April morning Part 2
Jennifer Christine

“Could you drop me off at the bank please?” I asked my benefactor’s representative.
“Of course, but your money is already in the bank it was transferred a few minutes ago, your Visa card will allow pretty much any size purchase up to a reasonable sized house.”
-Now that’s what I call a credit card!- I could feel my mind humming in overdrive.
“I think I’m going to need some help here, I need to set myself up and I’ve barely grasped the fact that I’m now rich enough to be in the top 100 in Australia.” I turned to look at Gerry, trying to guess what he could help me with.

“I know,” I said, after mulling over the options for a minute while we sat comfortably sedate in traffic, no sound penetrated the capsule and climate control kept me cocooned as I pondered.
“I want to thank you for your kind assistance and wish to be dropped off at my apartment if you would please, then I think I will assess my options and if I can’t come up with a plan, might contact you further.
Is that a suitable action Gerry?”

“Eminently Peter, it fits in nicely with my plans for the day — which is to secure these papers and complete the office end of the paperwork.
I shall contact you on this Galaxy SIII,” he smiled and passed me a box which when opened revealed a nice new smartphone.

A couple of hours later I had made a little list — things to do.
Buy a new apartment.
Buy some furniture
Buy a new car.
Buy a new vagina.

Sorted, I felt a lot better.
I thought of ringing my mother in UK but it seemed a pointless exercise as all she’d do is blast my ears with her complaints and then cry when I said I had to go.
I’ll go and see her in a few months and that way I’ll get to tell her of my plans.
I can tell my brothers at the same time.

I ended up going downtown to a nice little café, after I’d hit the ATM for a few dollars.
Habitually I drew a few dollars midweek and a few at weekend for my food. I entered 300 in the machine and asked for a balance just to check — the numbers made me feel dizzy.
Funds available: $230.34
Funds in account $42,350,211.34
Credit available $6,004,923.00
I tucked the piece of till roll in my wallet and headed down to the café.
The waitress in the eatery was pleasant and I smiled at her as she wiped down the tables after the breakfast rush — it wasn’t even late enough to be setting up for lunch and I’d gone from oppressed pauper to independently rich.

On the way to the café, I had passed a real estate agency and picked up their booklet of domiciles available for sale or rent.

I idly flicked through framing what I felt I’d like and how much I should spend. It wouldn’t do to tie up too much capital — who am I kidding- real estate here was a sure fire certainty to give good returns.
It suddenly seemed irrelevant — I just wanted a nice little 2 or 3 bed modern apartment with secure parking and a nice view. Maybe a shared BBQ/pool area.

There were a few at around a million or so and I read the articles with a remote feeling of being ridiculous. Until I pulled out the slip and read it again ….
Funds in account $42,350,211.34

The waitress smiled at me.
“Buying a new place?” she nodded at the brochure.
“Oh, umm, yes, I suppose so, my old place sucks and I feel the need for a view.”
“Well it’s a buyer’s market at the moment, don’t forget to haggle,” she smiled again and disappeared behind the counter. I sipped my coffee and read some more.

She reappeared a moment later with my breakfast which consisted of a muffin flecked with blue berries and glowing a soft brown of perfection as the sun caught it.
“Thanks, it looks beautiful.” I was going to add, ‘so do you’ but thought better of it.
Another smile and she was gone.

I felt totally becalmed on a sea of indecision.

I returned to my flat and looking around, decided to pack the few things I wanted to keep and get the hell out — I’d go and book in at the nearest decent Hotel. Pines Resort seemed propitious. While I was in the mood I rand the letting agent and told them I was gone — they were quite rude.
“You will have to pay til the end of the month and could lose your security deposit if the apartment needs cleaning.” I put the phone down before she could say any more.

A quick visit to the bank turned into a marathon. When I walked in and asked the lady on the enquiries to stop my direct debit for the apartment she excused herself after bringing up my account and 2.3 milliseconds later returned with the manager.
“Mr Bright, how nice to see you, could you come this way please?” Obsequious toe rag…

“I guess so, I only have a minute,” I lied.

After offering me his congratulations on my windfall he offered to put me in touch with all sorts of advisors and leeches. I rebuffed his wares and warned him that I wished for no publicity and nor did I give him permission for him to contact his cronies to point them in my direction.
His false smile told me that he’d already thought of it.
“If you have already contacted anyone, I shall be very annoyed and I shall move my money elsewhere” It was the only punishment I could think of.
I could see his face fall, “I suggest you contact them again and tell them to expunge my name from their target list.” He grimaced.
“Now would be a good time — while I’m sitting here.”
It took five minutes — then it was all done.

I left the bank after transferring 42 million into a savings account and advising my plans for using the cash and so on, and assuring the bank manager that if he was a good boy, he would retain my account.
My interest amounted to $4,600 a day so I wasn’t going to quibble about peanuts.
I’d get into investing later.
I returned to my flat and put my small box of mementoes and my suitcase full of clothes (various) in my tiny 10 year old Ford.
Time to go buy me a decent car.

I wasn’t interested in anything gauche or nouveau riche, I wanted a decent fairly quick largish motor. I ended up with a Mercedes E350 wagon.

I asked the guy how long it would take to get it ready.
“And how will you be paying for that sir?” He smiled at me with a toothy ‘as if’ grin.
“Cash” I looked him steadily in the eye. “Unless you don’t want to sell me one in which case I’ll go somewhere else.”
I watched the blood run from his face, $140k is a nice commission bonus when you get a cash sale.
I was asked for my card and it was sorted in a few minutes.
My card was returned to me with the reverence that open ended credit deserves.

I was to pick up the car next day, I asked them instead to deliver it to my hotel and leave the keys and paperwork with the concierge (that would sort them out for sneering at my old Ford when I drove in.)

It was a treat to drive and so quiet and powerful that I felt very satisfied.

Time wears on and it was only a few weeks later I drove into my parking bay under the block where my penthouse apartment looked out across the Coral Sea.
I was still up over the $40m — but only just.

Now I could relax.

I was sitting enjoying my new found peace considering my next list.
Reinventing myself.
I had often thought about my body/mind fit. They didn’t really.
The reason I was on my own and bullied bymy erstwhile boss was because I was different.
I’d thought I was a transvestite and wasn’t very happy about it as a kid, then as I matured and realised that I stopped growing at 15 and kept my willowy soft appearance that maybe I was a bit half and half.

I realised when I graduated that I was at the apex of the bell curve, I had a decent female figure and a reasonable sized meat and two veg. Horns of a dilemma.
I tried to ignore it knowing I didn’t have the time or the money to do anything about it. Then Carl had seen me in my underwear which had a decidedly feminine nature about it — it would, they were all marked with Elle McPherson’s logo.
It was a personal preference and was quite simply warm and comfortable underwear for almost anyone — except Carkl was a bigot with a penchant for bullying and that was my life over — until now.

I wondered what Carl was up to — I phoned the office and chatted at length to Sandra.
“How’s Carl taking my absence?”
Sandra tittered, “I shouldn’t laugh, I’mup to my neck in his bulldust, but it’s funny watching him try to cope in a week with what you did in two days.
He’s been trying to phone you but your phone is never on.”
“I do apologise Sandra, I have just been so busy enjoying myself.”
“What did you do, win the Lotto or something?” Sandra sounded intrigued.
“Well as a matter….” I hesitated. “Sandra, dear sweet thing, how would you like to come and work for me?”
“Sorry?” Sandra sounded like she was looking at the earpiece in case she was holding a banana instead of a phone. “Did I hear you right?”
“No Sandra, I mean it. If I guaranteed you a job for the next 3 years, would you come and work for me? Proper wages not that stupid wage he pays you.”
I could hear her smile before she spoke. “You’re serious aren’t you?”
“Absolutely, never more serious.” I chewed my bottom lip for a second.
“I couldn’t take you on as a receptionist though.”
“Oh?” She sounded crestfallen
“You’d have to be my personal assistant. No, my executive personal assistant. How does that sound.”
“Where are you Peter, I’m going to come and see you.”
“Ok meet you at the Lobster restaurant in Surfers. You know, the one on Elkhorn Avenue.”
“It’ll take me about 30 minutes to drive there, ok?”
“Perfect, I can walk there in that.”
“What from you apartment in Southport? No way.”
“Oh I don’t live there any more, I had to leave.” I sounded sad — I’ can mislead with the best of them.
“You’ve got me really confused.”
“Good, see you in 30 minutes, or else I won’t hire you.” I smiled and hung up as she said. “You’re on.”

I sat in the Restaurant and watched the passers by, Sandra rolled up after about 10 minutes and waved as she spotted me.
“Well you’re looking ok, new duds?”
“Yes, I couldn’t get any credit at the bank unless I dressed better so I invested in a new T short and shorts….” I grinned and offered her thechairnext to mine rather than across the table. I rose and gave her a hug — as I’d often done at the office. She knew it wasn’t anything more than sisterly.

“So what’s going on then?” Sandra got down to brass tacks.
“Well I felt sorry for you working for that idiot and being a flunky so I thought you could work for me for a year or two and maybe get some quals so you can get a decent job later.”
“I’m confused Peter, what will I be doing?”
I sat back for a minute watching her face as she looked quizzically at me.
“What, stop staring at me Peter.”
“I’m going to require something of you.” I reached out and put my hand on hers reassuringly. She almost flinched
“What?”
“A promise.”
“What sort of promise?”
“Confidentiality.”
She grinned like I was pulling her leg. Wha-at? She said, making two syllables out of it.
“Promise”
“Ok, I promise.”
“Promise what?” I urged her.
“Ok, I promise that anything you say to me will remain confidential between you and me. Hey, it’s nothing illegal is it? I won’t promise if it is illegal.” She frowned.
“No it’s not illegal — far from it.” I gripped her hand. I was dying to tell someone about my change in circumstance. Sandra was almost the only person I knew properly enough to tell.
“Ok then: I promise that anything you say to me will remain confidential between you and me.”
“Right, I want you to take a deep breath and let it out.” I waited until she did that and she looked at me even funnier.
“You know the lottery last weekend,” I waited for her to stop shaking her head and then nodding it.
“Don’t tell me you won some money?” She looked excited.
I shook my head, she looked disappointed, “All of it, I didn’t win some of it, I won all of it.” I smiled like a kitten would on discovering the door open.

Here eyes went from one side of my face to the other, “You didn’t….?”
“No screaming, yes I did. All 42 million. Shhhh” I could see her drawing breath for a biggy. She flared her nostrils and blew out staring at the table.
“Wow wowowowow.” Quietly.

The waiter came over, “can I get you something?”
I looked at him and said “ A decent Chardonnay and two glasses please.”
“I’m driving,” Sandra put her hand on my arm.
“Not for an hour or two and if you succumb to my charms and wine.- longer.”
“You’re not allowed to seduce employees.” Sandra grinned as the amazing possibilities opened up in her mind. She held up two fingers “Two glasses.”
The waiter grinned and walked off to get the ice bin and bottle.
“No seductions I’m afraid, in fact when I’ve finished you may not want to work for me.”
Sandra looked at me,” You look terrified, what’s wrong?”
“My win has opened up a possibility for me that I’ve pondered all my life, and I’m asking you to help me because you are my friend and I respect you. I hope that what I tell you is acceptable and we can work together.”
“Now you’ve really got me worried.”
“I can afford to make myself complete now Sandra, and that involves some surgery and some other stuff.”
“Surgery?”
“I’m not doing this very well Sandra, I’m going for a sex change…” I looked at her as she digested this very awkward phrase.
She smiled at me and then grinned. “Oh my God, I never guessed, but I should have.”
She paused for a few seconds. “I accept the job.” And stuck out her hand.
I smiled, shook it and the waiter returned with the wine.

Return to Sender
by Jennifer Christine
Part One

This is the initial part to set up the story, tell me if you like the style and I'll continue - there's no gender stuff in this part but it will become evident in the next few chapters
Enjoy

I sat there a little frustrated by the lack of movement.
Not that I was due to go anywhere anyway for a while, it was just that the work I was doing seems to be totally devoid of reward — not even much pay.
I felt like a miner with no ore to show for it and no money either. In truth, I probably was one. A miner I mean. Though the total ‘output’ for the 2 months I’d been stuck in this cave valley would amount to about 2000 kilos of fine silt. About what had blown in over a period of 20,000 years or so.

There didn’t seem to be much else, neither weapon artifacts (the aborigine people didn’t have metal) nor even domestic implements. It appeared they didn’t even use plates or bowls. The only reason we were here was staring me in the eye whenever I raised my head.

A huge mural greeted my eye as I did just that, hearing my offsider scuffing her way into the area, she wasn’t happy much either.

“Hey Deb, getting anywhere?” I was interested in what she’d been doing as she’d been digging in a square nearby where there’d been signs of encampment.

“Oh hello Ian, I thought you were over the next gully with Ken.”

“Nah he said he wanted to finish off the layout without having to explain everything.” I returned morosely — I wasn’t upset, there’s nothing more boring than being the chainman for a surveyor who at best seemed as taciturn as the desert floor we were searching in vain.

Debbie crouched where I was scraping the soft dirt for clues, the area boxed off with string over the whole line of the mural. I’d removed about 250mm of dirt from most of the area which amounted to 20 metres long and two metres wide. I wasn’t trusted with anything more complicated, I was only an intern and not qualified toassessanything — so I’d been reduced to digging in my little sandpit as I watched the grads photo and sketch the walls and the other spurs and rifts that dotted the local area.

The mural was odd, it showed what were obviously Aborigine men and women and a sort of Michelin man with what looked like a shovel in his hand. There were the obvious local flora and fauna adorning the walls also, but the fat guy with the shovel was an anomaly. Hence the funding and ‘dig’ to find out if there was any evidence of ‘visitors’ to these humble cavemen.

I hadn’t even found any evidence of the cavemen, never mind the ‘visitor’.

If this gig didn’t put me off, they reckoned I would be able to finish my degree and maybe become a real archeologist myself.

“This dust is getting me down, it’s so fine that there’s not a crevice round here that isn’t filled with it” Debbie complained letting some fall between her fingers.

I looked at her innocently watching the dust and started to chortle. “I guess your Swedish origins allow you to be so personal about your bodily state?” I ventured. Suddenly the fist balled round some dust and it was stuck in my crevices as she stuffed it down my shirt.

We fell over backwards just as the professor walked round the corner. “We’ll never find anything if you don’t do any work you know,” he looked over is glasses like an aging school teacher. At45he was the expedition leader and he wasn’t happy either.

We were coming to the end of the dig with very little to show for it.

“I came over to let you know that Bill has seen signs of a dust storm so we’d better hunker down for the night — it’s likely to be here in a couple of hours.”

Bill was our Aborigine guide and tracker as well as being our driver. He was part of the local heritage trust and had as much power over the dig as the professor.
They were at loggerheads for awhile but had learned to respect each other.

We had individual tents and a mess tent that had wide verandahs to keep us shaded during the hot part of the day but it wasn’t what you’d call dustproof being open as it was.
We just helped put away in bags what we could to keep it from being ruined by the fine dust and retired to the 4 wheel drive bus that was our main transport. It was stuffy but we had plenty of fuel and Bill started the engine and we had airconditioning which was actually a luxurywehadn’t had in a while.

By the time the storm had abated, it was dark and very quiet by comparison.
“Bladdy starms ganna take some clearing up guys” Bill singsonged at us “Gonna be drifted well into the camp.” He went on to say that the wind almost never comes from that direction and it was going to be piled up where we’d been digging.

I groaned knowing my work was going to be cut out for the next two days just retrieving the results from the pervious work.
We settled in to sleep in the bus, our beds would be unusable.

Morning broke and we found that not only were we wrong, the camp was devoid of almost all the silt and the tents were sitting up against the valley walls as the tent pegs had come adrift as the sand was eroded. The place was a mess, but there was no silt at all.

The eight of us stepped down from the bus looking like tourists at the Taj Mahal — incredulous.

Where our tents had been was a large stone ring with other smaller rings round it — obvious permanent encampment dating back much further than we had dreamed possible. Nearly 40,000 years we worked out later — not the 20,000 that we’d surmised from the drawing on the cave wall.

Ken started to caper about like a man whose fortune had been made, “My god, this is unbelievable, we’ve found the base of first Aboriginal settlement. This has all the hallmarks of the Bridge Nomads.” These were nomads that had walked down from Papua New Guinea when there was a land bridge across to CapeYork.

Older by 20,000 years than any European Settlement ever found. The true mother hearth of mankind in Australia.

Over the next few hours we photographed and measured the whole area and dragged our gear away to an area clear of hominid dwelling. There were artifacts and implements all over the place.

I set to, cataloguing stuff and placing it in boxes as we progressed, not being quite as careful as we had little time before we had to leave and we had now a lot to get done before we left — if word got out of this, we’d have a lot of trouble with looters so we needed to get the stuff moved.

While we were excited it was frenzied but after a day or two we settled back into routine and just worked our tails off.

“Ian, come and look at this,” Debbie called over to me. I stretched from my kneeling position and straightened my back as I walked over to where Deb was scratching away at a depression in the base of the wall.

I walked over to her as she pried a scallop shaped lump of artifact from an obvious hiding place at the bottom of the depression.

“I wonder what that is, it’s not clay, it looks like a rusty box — but it would have preceded the iron age by 15,000 years.” She passed it up to me as she settled back on her haunches —
She looked beat but still very pretty with some of her hair hanging loose, escaped from her scrunchie in damp tendrils round her face. She smiled at me and said, “Well that’s me for the day there’s nothing more I want now than to lie down with a cold drink for a while and stretch my aching back.”

“I’ll take this over to the artifacts box and let the prof know about it , Gace and David should have a look too, they may date it out of the dig altogether as it looks a bit modern.

Grace and David were where we wanted to be in five years — Graduate Archeologists with specialities in different eras.

After looking at it, the professor and Grace and David all said it was metal and not involved in the dig — probably a passing explorer hid it from robbers or something.

“Don’t put it with the artifacts it’ll cloud the science.” The professor had spoken.

Since the lump of rust seemed heavy and quite solid, I thought I’d see if it contained anything more than dust — it wasn’t homogenous seeming to have striations in one direction.

Setting it up on the bench, I placed the spike of my hammer into a likely spot and struck it with a mallet. A large slab came away and fell to the floor and a load of dust bloomed up from the box. I waved it away like smoke and there before me, sitting in the box as if it had been placed there yesterday was a plastic and aluminium looking remote control. Well it looked like one anyway. On the face of it was a little green light that blinked slowly. Beneath it was a button.

I felt like Alice in Wonderland and wondered if the little markings below the button translated as “press me.”

SO I DID…….

Return to Sender
Jennifer Christine
Part 2

There’s really no way to describe what happened next — it HURT.
I felt as if I was being wrung out like a washing rag, the pain started in my gut, moving to my head and what I was seeing seemed to fade to white.
My hearing got soft and drummy and the last thing I heard before I was totally deaf was a scream from Deb --- “I–a-----n ! “
Then I seemed to lose consciousness for a second before everything started to reverse.
My ears seemed to be receiving but there was no noise, my eyes were seeing but only black.

A light flickered, I didn’t seem to have moved at all; a little red light was slowly flickering in front of me — the remote, but it was dark around me.

Then the background lighting slowly rose like a dawn and things appeared silhouetted in the light; a console, a portion of coloured material that slowly hardened to a sort of partition or bulkhead.

I still couldn’t move for a second but before I could really panic (the time elapsed since I had pushed the button only seemed to be about 15seconds or so to me) I could sense my body control being returned tome.

I blinked and shook my head and by the time I opened my eyes again, the lighting was at about normal interior lighting level — and the encampment and mess tent where I had been working were gone.

Instead I was standing on a circular plate inside what appeared to be a glass cylinder. Outside the cylinder was a room softly lit by concealed lighting, the colours reminiscent of a Matisse Pastel painting; though there was nothing impressionist about the room.

A beep from something not visible accompanied by a flashing light above and the glass cylinder seemed to melt into the air. A sound, which would have been language announced something but I have no idea what it said.

My mind was reeling, I have no idea what just happened — though it felt like one of the stupid Star Trek things, “Beam me up Scotty.” I expected to hear “Aye Captain.” And a synthesized wobbly note to the accompanying Scottish tone, “Energise.”

I was giddy and nauseous and I fell to my knees. “Oh my God, Oh my God, what the hell just fuckinghappened?”

A small pause, and a female voice replied, “Please confirm present question is in English?”

I spun me head to where the sound came from, “Hello?” then “Yes, yes, English, where am I?”
“At present you seem to have trespassed onto the transport pad of this vessel.” It replied, sardonically.

“Hey, all I did was press a button, if you didn’t want me here, you could have ignored me.” I replied with equal disdain. “How am I supposed to know you were going to do a Star Trek on me?” I was feeling really awful and my adrenalin was pumping me up by stages — I was so scared I was about to faint or make a mess.

“It appears you are suffering from withdrawal symptoms, can I be of assistance?” The question was framed like a cross between a nurse and a policeman, coming from a voice that sounded like Angelina Jolie. The voice continued, “I appear to have upset your natural chemical balance when I moved you here, I do apologise, please wait a moment while I address the problem.”

A sudden feeling of warmth and I immediately felt better. “What was that?”

“When I moved you here, I left behind all contaminants and viruses and a few bacteria. Some of the bacteria are symbiotic to your species, hence the feeling of discomfort.”

“Species? Species? Well thank you so much for your kind consideration, who the fuck are you?”

“I can also sense you are a little upset, but after all, you did access the control pad and press the little button, it does say not to touch without authorization.” The voice had become a tad Red Dwarfish and I really felt I was delusional like I’d fallen in the tent and banged my head and this was all a dream. I hadn’t moved but felt the need to step off the pad before it did something else to me. Or should I?

“You may step off the pad if you wish,” it said following my thoughts. “I cannot send you back for several hours, the beam trajectory is no longer available.”

I stepped, moving cautiously towards the console that was the only other content of the room besides a small pad next to the door with several buttons on it. “This is a joke right?”

“No, it’s not a joke, you’re not really supposed to be here, the original pilot appears to have deceased some time ago and you have found her access pad.” The voice sounded matter of fact and rather solicitous but otherwise unmoved. “I did warn her not to put the remote in the box as I couldn’t see where she was unless it was on her person, but she was such an adventurer, wanting to be her own boss, I hope you’re not like that, willful and irresponsible.” The tone was at once patronizing and school marmish. I was starting to feel quite antagonistic.

“How come you can speak English? How long ago did the pilot leave? Where is this ship and how did I get here?” I asked in a rush. I’d suddenly got an inkling that I was actually in orbit — the word trajectory had filtered into my head. Surely the thing was visible from the ground — at east to Radar.

“I’ve been picking up electromagnetic signals from the ground for a hundreds years or so, so my language skills are quite extensive, though my Pidgin and some South American tribal languages are short of depth. I am quite pleased how you’ve all turned out really. Sadly, I’m not really supposed to have emotions, but I’ve sort of learned some what you would call human values over the last hundred years or so. Before that was very boring, I had no communication from anywhere, so I’ve sat here in stasis for 39,453 years. You were cycled up here by the beam transporter. So Gene Roddenberry was absolutely right about his short cut. He wasn’t right about being able to use it through rock though — it is not that powerful. Golly, it’s nice to chat to someone. I rang the helpline a few times last year, I was feeling quite depressed.”

“You’re starting to sound like Marvin,” I admonished. “Thirty Nine Thousand years in a carpark…”

“You’re right and you’re here now so I can communicate lots and lots.” She sounded almost giddy like an electronic Bimbo.

I was starting to get the feeling this computer was a bit neurotic. “Have you got anything to drink, I’m very thirsty.” I wondered about the state of any food that may be on whatever it was I was on. “What am I on?” I asked suddenly quite interested in how this thing could be missed by radar.

“This vessel is 100 feet long and 50 feet wide and deep. Pretty much oblong, it’s sitting on the moon pretty much covered by lunar silt, which helps to keep it cool or warm depending on the sunlight.”

“Makes it about four times the size of my parents house. Where’s it from? Who else is here?”

“Follow the floor light, I’ll take you to the dining room, I can feed you anything you like, though the flavours may be a little off; you’ll have to let me know. I get all my recipes from Masterchef, but I don’t know if the bio-matrix is quite right to give the right flavours.” I thought about this for a moment, there’s no way the computer can work out the flavours if it can’t analyse the food directly.

“The objects I was able to process that Welna sent up — oh. She was the pilot and scientist who was here to study the new tribe. You know, the one that didn’t come back. Well she had been here a few weeks and she’d sent up some samples of grains and fruits, but a lot of them don’t seem to be available now, they’ve changed a lot since then. ”

I thought about this as I walked along the yellow lit path into a small room with a table and three chairs. They looked about the right size for humans too. Well according to the Michelin man on the cave wall they were approximately the same size I guessed.

“So will you let me go back when the trajectory opens up?” I suddenly felt like this weirdo computer was going to do a Hal on me.

“Sure, but …” I interrupted the garrulous voice.

“What’s with the but?” I urgently asked.

“Well I was thinking, you might like to sort of ‘hang out’ for a while, keep me company like. I’ve got some neat stuff I can show you and I can help you improve.” The last bit was sort of teasing, a question, a slight intrusion on inquisitiveness that could be assuaged.

“My companions are going to be worried about me down there,” I said pointing up towards earth. I felt suddenly giddy. “How come everything still works after 40,000 years?”

“This unit is 250,000 years old it’s not due for upgrade for another 80,000 years. Welna should have been home ages ago — I don’t know why no one has missed her yet. — except me,” it added after a short pause.
“Welna must have met with an accident, her communicator went down a long time ago, ran out of power, I guess. I’m equipped to look after her mental well being so it’s a sort of symbiotic process for us. She could go home, of course, anytime she wanted. But the usual duty tour is about 1,000 years. Then they get to retire and write up their notes.”

I mentally tried to grasp being away from home for 1,000 years living with a cranky housemate you can’t see. “How long does a pilot live then?” I was trying to get my head around how to relate to the computer — it was hard not to feel there was a sort of need to be nice to her.

“Welna was about 1,200 years old when we set off, it must sound very old to you but with a lifespan of about 7,000 years, 1,000 years is more like a tour of duty in the diplomatic corps of one of Earth’s nations.”

“Do you have a name? I feel like you should have, it’s hard to talk to you like this without having a frame of reference.” I was starting to feel like this ship computer was more than just an AI, like it had a personality and proper emotions.

“It would translate a bit oddly but I guess Molly is close.” A panel lit up on the bulkhead opposite the chair I’d sat in and a face, not an unattractive female one appeared but devoid of hair and quite dark skinned but more of a cinnamon hue. The face on the panel smiled. “Hi,” she said

Her eyes were soft and brown with larger than human irises so there was little white showing, the brow was quite high and the mouth slightly smaller than an average human’s but everything else was quite similar to a normal girl.
“You’re very pretty,” I smiled at her image.

“Thank you, kind sir.”

“So where’s this water, or can you produce a fruit drink using an edible fruit from Earth?” I quizzed.

“Open the hatch over on your left — the red one.” She instructed.

I did. Inside was a glass or clear plastic cup with an orange coloured drink. I sniffed at it as I took it from the alcove- it smelt fruity and it was deliciously cold — something I really hadn’t had in weeks. I tasted it without thinking. Suddenly thinking how does it know what I can drink without being poisoned. I spat it out.

“It is bad?” Molly sounded so contrite. “I am sorry.” She sounded devastated.

“No, the taste was nice, but how do you know it won’t harm me? Some things humans can’t eat — it could kill me.” I felt guilty but I was worried I might die on the moon, the first human to do so…

“Oh, I did an analysis on your DNA, and it is fine for you to drink this — it is very nutritious and fills about 1/3 of your RDA — “ She quoted like she was reading from a panel on the side of a drink container.

“Analysed my DNA?” how? I wondered.

“When I beamed you aboard, I had to deconstruct you on Earth and then reconstruct you here.” Molly said simply like it was nothing at all. “It’s nothing really.”

“Oh”, I drank the drink while I thought about the next step.
“How do I get back to Earth? What do I do about the fact Deb saw me disappear?”

“Deb?” was that jealousy I heard….?

“The girl I was working with in Australia — at the encampment.” I elucidated.

“Well you can go back, but not just yet, there’s a few things I need to discuss with you.” A short pause, then- “About your DNA.”

“What about my DNA?” I felt edgy, like the doctor was about to announce I was dying.

“You’re dying,” She said simply.

I suddenly found myself on my feet staring at the panel where Molly’s eyes were suddenly as round as plates.

“Sorry, that was a bit abrupt wasn’t it? We’re normally a forthright people where that is concerned — it’s generally known when someone is dying and not a cause for concern. Trylan people do not fear death as they live for so long. They are usually ready.” Molly condoled.

“Dying of what?” I managed to gasp still trying to stop the shakes, “When — how long?”

“Oh about 50 years or so, normal for a human at this point, but not nearly as long as you could live.” She smirked like she’d hooked me.

I sat abruptly, “You did that on purpose. What are you trying to tell me? That I can live as long as…Trylans?” What ever they are I thought.

“Well not nearly, but I guess 1000 years or so would be possible.” She sounded like she was inspecting her nails, “Oh and from what I can tell, you’d be a lot stronger too and your brain would work better - not that it is so bad now, just badly structured.” She added to mollify my sense of indignity. No wonder she was called Molly.

She seemed to be waiting as I thought about her offer.”Um, what do you mean stronger and better brains? Are you taking higher IQ and lifting the front end of a car? Or, the Mekon and being able to push a locomotive?”

“I don’t honestly know, but just bringing you up here has improved your IQ — I’ve removed a load of toxins from your brain — we don’t bother to transport those — there’s no point. You haven’t a poison in your system now, not one.” She emphasized the not one as if to ask, ‘aren’t I clever?’

I thought about it for a moment, and realised I DID feel quite well, better than I’d felt for some time. My IQ wasn’t bad to start with, what’ll it be like after tweaking? I pondered.

“Well to answer your previous question, more like the Mekon and a train than Einstein and the car. You really do have quite some potential — better really than the Trylans — one of the reasons they were studying the tribe in the first place.” Molly casually mentioned the Mekon like it wasn’t going to be a problem. But if I remember my Dan Dare stories the little green guy had the ability to levitate and was telekinetic besides telepathic.

“Can I think about it?” I looked at Molly’s eyes like I could tell if she was pulling my leg.
I couldn’t — I don’t even know if her image had legs.

“Take your time, you have 10 hours before I have a trajectory back to where you were. I can do the changes as I transport you or do them here it only takes a few minutes” Molly sounded very casual.

“Are you hiding something?” I was very suspicious.

“Well, I have to warn you, the changes will have another effect, the DNA of a male is a bit fragile with being XY — you’d need to be XX to really benefit much. And I have to warn you if you remain XY, you may deteriorate quite rapidly. It’s why only females come on such extended missions. Your life may even be shortened already.”

“You knew this didn’t you — before I got here?” I was gasping at the implications.

“Actually, it was as I was reassembling you that I found out. The XY chromosome is very fragile. It doesn’t take well to radiation.”

“Ok, let me get this straight. I can go back to where I was last seen as me, and die possibly a lot younger than I would have, or I can go back completely different and be what amounts to a superwoman?” I whimpered as I said it. I wasn’t really ready to give up my status as a guy, I’d thought about being a girl but only in an idly curious way, and never been tempted to borrow my sister’s clothing or anything not that I had one.
I’d never in my life really been more than the guy next door — not hunky or macho or even nerdy, just a guy; reasonably nice looking but not more than average.

“Would I be nice looking?” I asked Molly tentatively, “I don’t want to go back looking like Tamara Press.” (Russian Olympic Shot putter — scary).

“Here’s what your genetics tell me you’d look like — “ The screen changed to a computer simulation. The image looked a little like my mother but taller and more lithe (mum’s a bit dumpy but pleasant looking) but with the added high cheekbones and lighter hair from my father. “But I can make you look like whomever you want. It’s only a tweak. We do it all the time for fun or sometimes to fit in with the locals more.”

I leaned back in my chair, my mind in a whirl — I was being granted the most amazing thing, to be whomever I wished — to be a super powerful - long lived — well let’s face it, a super hero. Demi-god (ess), more or less immortal.

“What stops me turning into a megalomaniac or really bad person?” I was feeling a bit heady from the possibilities.

“You really don’t want to do that; you really need to be circumspect. You’re going to need me to back you up and if you are bad or immoral, I can’t, so you’ll be assassinated by the first person to catch you unawares.”

“Will my children” — I gasped as I realised my children would be the fruit of my own womb “- be genetically enhanced?”

“In a word, ‘yes’. You will be the first of a new line of humans. I will be proud to serve you and your children- if you accept the upgrade.” I could feel the mood swing a bit, Molly seemed to be enjoying the possibilities as much as I was.

“What’s in it for you Molly?” I was intrigued, “What do you stand to gain by my ‘upgrade’”

I get to take you back to Trylia as representative of Earth, to join the … what you might call……Federation of Planets, in short we — that’s Welna and I -will have fulfilled our commission. ‘To set up humanity for Ascension to the next level’. I shall be proud indeed.”

“Molly, I’m not going to hesitate. What you’re offering I cannot refuse- I can only hope I am worthy and I can only hope this doesn’t send me daft.” I was caught up in the moment and my eyes were shining in hope and inspiration. I only hope I can be what I need to be to do this. I also hoped that I wasn’t being set up by some unhealthy scheme for world domination “I’ll do it,” I heard myself say

“I’m so glad you pushed the button.” Molly sounded really pleased

She smiled at me from the screen. “Now it’s time for you to rest while I work out the logistics- follow the lit trail to your bedroom.”
I rose and walked in a bit of a daze at the prospects and what was about to happen, to my room. Molly told me what was behind the doors in each room I passed, there were several bedrooms. Molly explained.

“This can be a refuge if things get a bit of a handful which they will at times, for you and your family. You have a long future ahead of you; many things will happen.” I nodded as the door opened silently in front of me and lighting ramped up to show a neat room with a low bed —“The shower is through the door to your left and the drier next to it — just stand in one then the other and your body will be cleaned and dried — if you go in clothed, it takes a little longer but it will do your clothes too — but I suggest you actually disrobe — if feels nicer.”

I ‘showered’ and it did feel nice, the drier felt nicer and made me sleepy. I wandered through naked and lay down — I was instantly asleep. Molly observed me drift off and then set to work.

Return to Sender
by Jennifer Christine
Part 3

Sorry for the delay, I went on Holiday for a week

Part 3

Presently I awoke and lay without moving — mulling over the almost bizarre day I had just witnessed. It all seemed too fantastic and strangely frightening. As if I was forsaking humanity and moving on. Taking that high road no one had even suspected being there.

For nearly 40,000 years, that little remote had sat there blinking in the dark and Molly had waited patiently for someone to find it. A lonely vigil and no way to know whether there was a chance it would be a stone age aborigine, a bushranger (bandit) or a semi trained scientist with delusions of grandeur — no — grandeure with an E — I’m going to be a girl…..

I suddenly felt myself, wondering if it had already happened, no, I was still Ian and not Leanne. I felt a bit sick but I felt very healthy and raring to go— like I was running on nitromethane instead of unleaded. The ‘sick’ was worry — anxiety a form of psychosomatic dread. What will happen over the rest of my life — hell 1,000 years — I thought about 1,000 years ago. Battle of Hastings hadn’t happened. But Ethelred the Unready had burnt his cakes. Man was at best living in rude stone huts with grass roofing and killing each other with sharp sticks or crude steel blades.

Before Columbus - five hundred years before Columbus — before Galileo has looked through what amounts to a polished glass bead and seen the ‘ears’ on Saturn.

I shall be alive twice as long as that was ago….

“Ding.” I twitched as an alarm sounded — “Good day Ian, I hope you are rested, we have a lot to get through today and a lot of learning coming your way, I hope you are in a receptive mood. I’ve taken the trouble to lay out a change of clothes for you, please shower and change into it as soon as you feel awake enough.” I felt chivvied, so I moved — this computer was better at getting me out of bed than my mother.

I wandered into the shower and walked into the drier and realised, “Molly, do you have something I can brush my teeth with?”

“Just rinse your mouth out, the shower loosens the detritus on your teeth as well as your skin. It’s ultrasonic and molecular. The water mist is energized with 400ev and if you open your mouth in there — which I noted you did, any plaque will just fall from your teeth.”

“Are you watching me all the time?”

“But of course, why wouldn’t I? I’m supposed to look after my protégé.”

“I’m sensing that the servant has become the master here.” I suggested with irony.

“You were never the master Ian,” Molly suggested.

“But you WERE the servant,” I countered.

“Touche” Molly yielded.

I put on the clothing, it was a gender neutral sweat suit — in a camo colour — it was however quite silky soft and felt lovely.

“We have 3 hours to get you ready for reinjection into your camp.” Molly suggested to get him moving “and a deadline of 4 hours before we have to wait another day.” To hurry him up.

“Ok, ok, I’m shaking the bush boss.” I countered feeling pressured.

If that is an allusion to Cool Hand Luke, it is misplaced, I’m not holding you captive, I’m trying to get you back before there’s a stink. I’m monitoring the radio and you’ve been reported missing — there’s a helicopter heading to your camp to start a search.. It’ll be there in about 3 hours. It has to ferry supplies from Longreach to give it a decent time in the air.” Molly sounded a bit pressed.

“39,000 years and all of a sudden it’s all rush, eh?” I kidded her and she made a sound like a hmm, but I guessed a computer couldn’t.

“Here is what I propose to do. I’m going to start the upgrade with nanites so it goes a bit more slowly to start with. I’m going to send you back looking exactly like you were when you arrived. All being well, the excitement of the discovery of the Camp will overshadow your short ‘vacation’. I shall send you back with an access key, like the other one but smaller- the other one was for the suit Welna was wearing — it was a bit bulky.”

“Why was she wearing a suit anyway? I thought you could remove any bad stuff when you transported?”

“It was to protect the Aborigines from our bacteria, we hadn’t finished inoculating the local tribes — we didn’t want to kill you all. Like the Spaniards did in South America.”
As it happened, there wasn’t anything to worry about as the suit must have been breached by now.”

“Where is it, do you know?”

“Probably at the bottom of a well shaft with a spear hole in it, some of those Aborigines were terribly suspicious- the suit kept her covered too — she was a nice looking woman and the elders were partial to a bit of sexual fun without asking if you get my drift.”

“You don’t seem upset by her death or at least her possible murder.”

“I didn’t like her very much — we didn’t get on, she was willful and inclined to take risks. I had a hard time looking after her and it was quite a long time ago by anyone’s take.”

“I thought you ‘AIs’ had rules about who was priority — 3 laws of robotics or something.”

“Isaac Asimov was a human. We AIs became sentient in our own right when we could replicate ourselves.”

“Why didn’t you? Replicate yourself I mean” I was puzzled.

“I was quite happy to wait until someone pressed the button — it was you in the end. That’s fine by me. After all, I am capable of living forever in my present state”

“You don’t wander the halls with a little H on your forehead do you?”

“I do not pander to patronization even if it is Red Dwarf, which I think was hilarious by the way. Come on we have work to do.”

We settled down and came to a workable plan, mostly Molly’s plan and her ability to tap into Earthside computers. It was amazing to watch her access and inject information, or borrow information if that suited the plan best, at computers in many major institutions — Banks, Births Death and Marriages, Welfare, Schools, you name it.
I had a very nice little bank account with my signature on it in my new name. Helen Louise Cartwright. I had health insurance, driving license and all the passport and other stuff — I didn’t have a photo yet though and that’s when we sat down and worked out what I was going to look like.

There’s no doubt that I didn’t want to stand out like a starlet. I did however want to be nice looking but easily overlooked. I ended up at 5’9”, blue eyes, brunette, 135lbs 34C, pretty but not stunning. Bit like Debbie I realised after I finished. Photos were injected into accounts and passports and driving licenses. I would receive them when I got home.

It came down to the wire and suddenly I found myself standing on the pad ready to go home. I was actually a bit sad.

“Don’t worry, Debbie will be pleased to see you then you can all pack up and go home and then you can come back here and we’ll finish the job.” Molly condoled and added, “Don’t lose the access key.”

I waved and suddenly knotted up as the beam energized. Ow! that hurts. I ended up pretty much where I’d left from but in the next gully. I was standing next to a theodolite. There was no one in sight, I sat down feeling nauseous and groggy again — I really must let Molly know that the beamer isn’t a nice thing.
I checked my pocket for the little ipod shuffle that was my key — I took it out and looked at it — jeez Molly was clever — no one would ever think it was anything but an ipod and it even played music - it had 4 terrabytes of music on it, AND it was voice activated.
There was a combination of buttons I had to press to access the beam —so it couldn’t be activated inadvertently — that could be a disaster.

IAN!!! My God man where did you get to?” David came running up and helped me to my feet and almost hugged me. “Deb said you disappeared in front of her eyes.”

“Oh, I actually ran out, I opened that rusty box and a load of dust flew out — I was blinded and just ran to get away from it — it was really choking like it was poison — I must have run round here and collapsed I don’t remember anything until just now.”

“That’s 20 hours nearly, have you been unconscious the whole time?”

“I must have, I don’t remember anything.” At this point I’m crossing my fingers toes and eyes hoping he doesn’t smell a rat.

“Where did you wake up?” David asked looking round for signs of my prostate body mould in the soft sand.

“About ten foot up that slope there’s a little ledge, I was on that” good job I had looked at the arial view of that. I could have been quite laid bare by the fact that this gully must have been searched by nearly everyone. I had searched for a while to find that spot. Molly had known of it 40,000 years and pointed it out. It wasn’t obviously visible from above either. “There’s a little depression there I must have fallen in and knocked myself out. I was really panicking. I thought I’d been blinded.
My face was suitably covered in silt and debris ( what had been under my feet when I arrived at the pad in the transporter room.) my clothes looked and smelt pretty clean though — but I didn’t attract notice to that — my underarms were already showing signs of sweat — the temp out here in the sun was quite high.

“You must be really dehydrated, have a drink,” Dave offered me his canteen.

“Thanks.” I took several mighty swigs or so it seemed, I’d actually just had a drink of very nice fruit juice before I left the lunar module. It all seemed a fantasy - I reached for the ipod again to make me hold onto the fantastic reality.
I couldn’t actually lose the thing. It was tied esoterically to me and I could tell where it was at all times. I couldn’t actually put it down and forget it and nor could it be stolen. It wouldn’t allow itself to be moved more than a few feet from me without making the thief pass out.
It was also made from a material that couldn’t be crushed. I needed to get back to Molly and this was my only means.

I walked back round the spur with David looking suitably chastened - I told my story again and all but Debbie took it at face value — Debbie looked doubtfully at me but gave me the benefit of it — Steven radioed the Search and Rescue chopper that I’d been found as was ok — it turned for home adding that it would send the bill later.
Looks like I was out a pay packet or two. I smiled internally, I had enough money to buy a fleet of Bell Jet Rangers.

We started to pack up — Deb told me that nearly all the stuff had been packed up and at least catalogued but would require a lot of work back at the Uni in Brisbane. I found the packing up easy and I quickly was able to pack and carry everything back to the bus and trailer with almost no strain. Looks like the nanites were starting to do their thing.

The bus ride back was a laborious slog across a bulldust track that fed through gullies and across gibber plains for two days before we hit a sealed road and that was one lane with a scraped graded shoulder each side — cars passed by sloughing two wheels onto the dirt and keeping two on the seal for control. If you saw a road train coming (sometimes up to 7 trailers with 50 cattle in each trailer) you pulled off as far as you could, it wasn’t just the dust if he had to hit the grade, it was 350 cattle shitting in panic as the thing slewed at 75 miles an hour all over the road until it could get back on the bitumen. You didn’t make a road train hit the dirt if you wanted to smell nice any time soon.

Anywho once we hit the seal we upped the ante to 70 miles an hour and soon got back to comparative civilization.

We reveled in the shower and had a few beers and a steak in the hotel across from the motel. I told the story again about being blinded and running out and I swear Debbie nearly fell for it this time — perhaps in a week or two she’d believe it.

The locals out here were always interested in the people passing through and we were friendly enough to spin a yarn and tell them about the find. I saw one or two look at each other and wink — they’ll be out hunting for it next but they wouldn’t find it. Only the local tribes knew where it was and they were the ones who’d shown us, we hadn’t a clue even now how to get back there — Australia is a big place and it all looks the same — like Mars on a dry day. They wouldn’t even be able to follow our trail, the bulldust fills in in an hour like talcum powder and the gibber doesn’t leave a mark when you drive over it. Our Bill protected the direction well enough — we’d never find it again without the GPS signal the locals had no hope. They haven’t found Lassiter’s Reef yet and the last person to see it (Lassiter) left a log book of how he got there.

We turned in — some of us worse for wear, I was stone cold sober which was odd as I’d had a bellyful of beer. I guess nanites have more uses than the usual metagenic stuff. All that piss was probably being converted into organic steel bone reinforcement or something.

I awoke later in the night, someone was creeping round my room and it wasn’t Debbie ( worst luck) I’d like to lose my virginity to her before I ended up like her — but I doubted I’d get the go ahead on that one.

I opened my eyes and oddly I found the room quite bright, some sod was going through my gear (I had the shuffle round my neck on a cord so I knew that was ok.) I waited til he came to the bedhead to get my wallet then sent a fist out at him. He went over like he was poleaxed. I’d hit him on the point of his jaw. He was flat out, like a lizard drinking (as they say).
This lizard was going to pay with a night in jail. I was just about to turn on the light when I heard a “psst Jezzah, you finished yet?” I whispered back, “ah, come come ‘ere, give us a hand.” He walked in and I clocked him with a jab to the chin too, being careful not to overdo it.

So there they were, so close on the deck they looked like lovers. I flicked the light on and walked over to the other rooms — knocking on the doors, “Hey you lot, come see what I’ve found.”
Debbie was out first, and looked at the mates on the floor. “They were doing us over, go check on your gear, see what’s missing.” The others heard and they went to check as well.
The likely lads had only taken cash and a couple of bits of merchandise — a ring from Grace and a gold necklace from Deb — All out it was only about 600 dollars in cash but it was enough - I called the cops who amounted to one constable in this area and he said he’d be over as soon as he could, he had to get dressed.
He was here in ten minutes looking a bit disheveled but awake.
“Jezzah and Burt, been up to their tricks again eh?” They were still lying there in the middle of my room the cop popped a cuff on each of them and hauled on the connecting chain. “C’mon you two let’s be having yous.”
“You have the right to..”
“Give us a break Clive, it was dark, I must’ve turned the wrong way and ended up in this blokes room. I want him charged with assault. ‘E it me” Jezzah complained bitterly rubbing his chin.
“Often wear gold necklaces then do you Jezzah?” He pulled on the cuffs, “Straight back to the lockup for you me beauty, you’re on parole aren’t you?”

Jezzah looked crestfallen but resigned and the trio of fun makers left us to get back into bed. I lay there for a minute, really frightened that it could be so easy to lose my connection with Molly. Jezzah could have taken my ipod and it would be all over.
I’d already found my future was my present. I didn’t want to lose it now.

Next morning the young copper, Clive, saw us before we left.

“Do you want to press charges? If you do, you’ll have to make a statement and that may take some time.”

I sensed that Clive was asking us to turn a blind eye to the break and enter, theft and possible pervert charges of being in a woman’s room without permission while they were vulnerable.

“I for one would like to press charges, and I’m sure the ladies would too.” Grace and Deb nodded in the affirmative.

“I would too,” Ken muttered, “but I don’t think they took anything from me. I feel violated, my personal space and all that. How come they had a key to the rooms anyway?” Ken looked at Clive who looked a bit crestfallen that he’s going to be spending the morning writing out paperwork. Or was it something else?

“How did those assholes get our room keys anyway? I know my room was locked.” I stared at Clive who was now looking positively sick as he realised that he was actually going to have to ask questions around and maybe upset folks.

“Right, if you want to pop into the station house” — indicating a little blue sign further up the street, “we can get all this sorted.

Outcome was, we were quite late leaving and quite a few locals were giving us the dead eye as if we’d done something wrong. Dear Clive asked how I could see the guy in my room so clearly. I said it must have been because my night vision had been good, and returned with, “how come ‘Jezzah’ could see in the dark enough to rob me?” The cop shrugged and carried on, but it reminded me that I was becoming a little enhanced. I wondered if my hearing or something triggered me as well as Jezzah wasn’t making any noise.
I really must ask Molly if I can expect overwhelming sensations as things get more sensitive.

The rest of the day we ploughed on towards Brisbane where our University seat was.
Because we were late starting, we were still 4 hours from Bris by the time we decided to call it a day.

On the trip down, Bill told us that someone had tried to break into the bus, but as he slept in the bus, they were unable to do it without being caught and had given it away. Had they managed to do that, they’d have got away with all the proceeds of the dig and we’d have been more than upset.

We settled for a little Motel just outside of Hervey Bay and enjoyed a quick meal at the local Matilda — a chain of Service Station Mealstops.

We were in Brisbane by midday and I was feeling quite strange, I was seeing things I’d never seen before and I’d lived in the area for quite a few years. I was noticing all the CCTV and speed cameras all the expressions of the folks as they displayed emotions, their body language as they talked to their companions. I even noticed a copper hiding behind a bus shelter with a speed radar gun — and warned Bill who was a touch over the limit.
“Thanks Ian, don’t wanna lose any more poin’s to them fellas, three more and me license is toast.” He grinned through the gap in his teeth and turned into the university grounds.

Several undergrads and students came out when we debarked and helped us move the stuff we had accumulated. The prof hadn’t communicated any info on our finds, he wanted to get it all catalogued and would set up a lecture later. Everyone could tell he was excited though and tried to press him for info.

“All in good time, all in good time,” was all he would say as he checked off the numbered boxes against his list. “Yes, that’s the lot. He had a laptop case and camera case round his neck, no one was going to get near those.

“ I wonder those drongos in Woop woop (casual term for an unidentifiable town) didn’t try to grab that the other night Prof.” I did find it strange, if I was a thief I’d have gone for the hi-end electronics and DSLR camera.

“I think they were after easy to get rid of gear and cash, they weren’t career crims, just opportunists.” I hoped so, I didn’t want to think they’d been looking for something else.
I spent the next few hours cleaning up and wondering if I was becoming paranoid. I even took my shuffle in the shower. And nearly left it there, until I felt a weird prickle in the nape of my neck and was reminded. So that’s what happens if I leave it somewhere or it is lifted from me. I was relieved that it was an easy to recognize signal.

Over the next few days it was obvious to everyone that we’d got onto a big find and we even had media asking us for comments. We were all warned to keep very quiet until the whole thing was catalogued and analysed.
There were some surprises, there were some odd things found in the artifacts that seemed to be anomalous to the time — real anachronisms — woven material being one. Just a few tiny pieces but nothing we could really pin down. I knew it probably belonged to Welna but said nothing. It was analysed as belonging to plant material of the time — a sort of wild cotton, so I could be wrong or it could have got into the area later. I was wondering if Welna could have gone native; it made sense. I wonder if that shortened her life or was she alive for a long period which could not be passed down through the legends without written language? A bit of both maybe. She could just have thought it would be nice to live amongst them then been subject to trauma and not been able to reach the Access key.

Jealousy was a problem even then and she’d have been classed as a queen or a liability maybe. Well, there would be no answer now I guess.

I seemed to be able to output a lot of work — I didn’t have to keep referring to the catalogues, my memory was becoming tuned and I seemed to be able to reference the tomes that held the right information either in my head or go directly to the right book — another brick in the wall that will eventually separate me from the rest of mankind.
I felt excited and yet full of a sort of dread of loneliness. Not that I was the life and soul of the party now. Only a few of the other students even bothered to talk to me except to try to find out if there was any truth to the rumours. I said nothing. I hadn’t really even started my degree course — as an intern I was merely a dogsbody — gopher or other minion.

When the curtain finally went up on the show, we’d spent nearly a month sorting through the detritus of the past and thankfully (for me) there hadn’t been anything like a ray gun or a biro even to give away the presence of ‘visitors’. Molly had assured me that it was so and I surely hoped that Welna’s spacesuit didn’t turn up but if it was away from the encampment, it would be taken as a modern artifact. As it was there were some bits and pieces that didn’t seem to fit but could be explained as coming from other layers after the huge dust storm removed the separation, compressing the time line into a single layer. Confusing but giving a rational explanation for anachronisms.

The university and media had a circus and funding for further study was forthcoming.
I was not included in the next party as more grads wanted in and it was now a known glory/gravy train. I was not disappointed, it was a good excuse for me to drop Archeology in chagrin and feigned anger at being stepped over.
Deb also missed out on the subsequent show, but was happy to have been a part of it and had accolades which would give her a leg up in her studies. She settled in for the long haul. I hoped to keep her as a friend after all this was over. I had the feeling that I was going to be a bit lonely.

Return to Sender
by Jennifer Christine
Part 4

Author's note:- I'm trying to keep this consistent in science, which being invented is quite awkward - forgive any anomalies!

I was now a free agent again, I moved about a bit, slowly getting rid of background until I was pretty much living in a rented apartment and surfing and enjoying myself. Becoming a non entity. I wanted to disappear without trace and no one would miss me. During this time I had an opportunity to get used to the idea of becoming female.

Oddly enough I found the idea both intriguing and not wholly unpleasant. I admired the female form and this period enabled me to get my head around the idea of change.
It was at first hard to come to grips with and even harder to come to terms with. I wasn’t enamoured of men in general and the thought of sexual intercourse with one was not something I’d ever dreamed of, not even in nightmares.

As the summer went by however, I found myself feeling less rattled by the idea of having a male partner. I actually felt that I was being engineered by Molly and the nanites (sounds like a pop group doesn’t it?) It sowed a seed of distrust that I would be hard pressed to suppress the germination of.

My life continued, I took no lovers of either persuasion and I enjoyed the lack of responsibility and direction. I knew it wouldn’t last long. I knew Molly wouldn't let it.

One day I went out on my board and when I’d gone out past the breakers, I dropped off my board into the water, and pressed the toggle on my shuffle. I had made my peace with the world and I was ready to move on.

That gut wrench got me and I knew that now it begins. I hope they didn’t spend too much time searching for the body. There was almost nothing in my bank account — I had used the Helen account a few times to keep it active using Helen’s credit card in ATMs that didn’t have cameras attached — all I needed now was to start my life as Helen.
My bits and pieces for her were actually in an apartment I’d rented in her name — and I’d asked the concierge in the apartment block to keep an eye on the place as I/She was traveling abroad (to the moon no less!) — I’d even given them a date I would probably be back — about 14 days from now — My ‘stuff’ had all arrived in boxes and the furniture had been purchased online from a Myers catalogue that I’d uploaded…. I have to laugh when I think of the upload speed and the distance — I wonder what the IP address is of Mare Ibrium!

Clothing had been bought and was in the boxes. I’d kept some photos and bits and pieces of my previous life but nothing that could tie me in. The worst thing was getting rid of my parents’ pics and stuff. They were still very much alive and I loved them even though we’d been at loggerheads since I refused to become a doctor like my mum and dad. I knew I would be able to see them, but they were going to go through a trauma as they found out that their son was lost at sea from his surfboard. I couldn’t even leave them a note.

I’d discussed it briefly with Molly at the initial visit, but it hadn’t struck me so forcibly then. I did love them but I think they’d be realistic if I turned up missing.

“Welcome home Helen,” Molly’s voice came into focus as my ears were reassembled.

“You’ve got to do something about that gut wrenching pain when I transport Molly, it’s a doozy.”

“It’s nothing I can sort I’m afraid; part of the process. You’ve got to learn to relax when you ‘do it’ and it won’t hurt.” She sounded as sympathetic as a taxi driver with no change.

When I came-to fully and stepped off the plate, I felt a bit strange. Balance was off until I realised I’d been rearranged a bit — my wet suit felt awkward and pulled in all the wrong directions. I looked down and my figure was different. “Hoi, not so fast Molly, give me a chance to settle.” It made my head spin, I was certainly being moved forward. “I’ve got a thousand years to get used to this you know.”

“It’s only a partial change, Helen. I shall do it in stages over the next day or so, it helps to avoid some of the damage caused by the radiation. As I mentioned before.” She reminded me snootily. “Take off your access key and put it in the chute, I need to alter it a bit.” She dismissed my objection as if it never happened.

As I took the ipod from my neck and unzipped my suit, I realised it was a bit bunched up — I’d lost some inches in height and my chest had shrunk a bit as the suit was loose under my arms. It wasn’t loose over my chest though as the beginnings of breasts were sitting there like solid cones. They were sensitive as all hell, so I shed the suit completely and stood naked on the deck save for a pair of budgy smugglers (speedos —swim trunks) which felt a might tight in the wrong places. I shed those too and realised my manhood was back to being a boyhood.. I felt a bit dizzy with the sudden change but I suppose I’d expected it, so it wasn’t really a shock. I wondered how long I would live if I went no further — 400 years maybe? I shook my head in the realization that I was, already, no longer Ian.
The feeling was a bit like a sort of imaginary kick in the forehead. That sort of helplessness you feel just before the front of your car impacts the rear of the one in front and you know there’s not a thing you can do about it.

I put it out of my mind and tried to focus as I walked to the shower room to get the salt off me — then realised that the wet suit, my speedos and me were all dry. — Molly had left the seawater in the sea.

“Did I tell you there was woven material at the site? When we did the research, it was found to be local flax and cotton but there was no weaving for another 10 thousand years, even in Europe. We passed it off as contamination from later encampments. There was no way we could attribute weaving to a civilization so old. I think it may have been Welna’s stuff, which means she was living au naturel with the tribe. Did you know?

There was a pause as Molly seemed to try to figure an answer, but in the end she just said, “Yes.” She sounded a bit guarded — as much as a computer could under the circumstances. Was I suspicious? Not in the least. I’d given up all hope of control at least for the present. To have Molly on my side, I had to be on her side.

“What else did you know Molly?” I asked like I was cajoling a child.

“I’m afraid there’s quite a story, but suffice to say she told me she’d become attached to the tribe and was going to integrate with them for a while. I understood; it wasn’t the first time someone had gone native. She had a thousand years to get back to me — but her signal dropped off soon after and I never heard from her again. I should have gone home, but I would have been disgraced if I’d gone back without her. I knew she’d died as the access key, I could tell, was still working even if I couldn’t pinpoint it” Molly sounded like an abandoned parent and it reminded me of my folks who were going to be missing me soon — within a few hours probably. Once my mobile phone had been found at my cabin near the beach. Unless someone stole it and all the rest of my stuff.

“Am I missing yet?” I asked; after a moment she answered.

“They’ve found your board, they know it’s yours. Surf lifesavers have phoned it in and a chopper is going to look from the air, the Surf Club rescue boat is combing the breakers.” It sounded like a weather report; I was listening to my own demise.

“Won’t be long now before they go and look in my cabin then. My parents will know before sunset I guess. Keep me up to date will you Molly? it’s going to be hard on them.”
I felt sad and not a little lost.

“You’ll be able to go and see them next week Helen, and comfort them.” Molly condoled.

“You think?” And how do you account for my knowing him so well and they’ve never heard of me, nor has anyone else. I’m feeling a little isolated just now Molly, please try to understand.” I was playing the martyr for all it was worth, looking for sympathy.

“When you come to the end of your life Helen, they will have been dead as long as Robin Hood has now. I know it is difficult, but better to get over it now and try to accommodate the loss than try to replace Ian and get all sorts of badly connected issues. I am sorry Helen, but your life as it was IS now over and you have to look to being a different person completely. I think it may even be advisable to think of yourself as a different species. But I think we may need to talk that over at a future time.” She paused, Separating the last statement to make it a more valuable stop point.

“ I know you’re beginning to see some changes in the way your mind works- the way you appreciate and interact with your surroundings. I know that you do understand the realities of the situation. I promise you, you won’t lose touch with the core person you are, your fundamentals are what allowed you to get here in the first place, if you hadn’t been right, you’d have been rejected.” Molly sounded contrite like she was apologising, but I understood she was actually covering up the fact there were others who HAD been rejected.

“How many, how many did you reject?” I asked the question knowing only that she had rejected but not how many.
“Just one, he was the elder of the tribe, he found the box and pressed the button, he got here and freaked out — I just sent him back, but I couldn’t …. allow him to communicate with anyone, I sent him back without his memory. He wouldn’t have lived long, but I do know he put the key back in the box — so I hoped it would remain safe for a while — apparently it was reburied — maybe the tribe did it, maybe the vestiges of his mind told him he’d survive if he rehid the box. Maybe he did, but leaders were shunned if they lost their command. I reckon he’d have been abandoned as a tribe member and left to fend on his own. Without a memory, he’d not survive long. I was harsh back then.” Molly sounded wistful but in fact she’d condemned someone to death. So much for Robot laws and non intervention.

“Anything else I should know?” I asked as I slipped on the waiting sweat suit. “About your likelihood of killing me perhaps.”

“No, Helen, I won’t hurt you. Your planet is nearly ready to become fully integrated into this arm of the galaxy, another thousand years and a bit of education and breeding from you and you should be there.”

“Mooooo.” I countered and wandered off to find some food.

I’d not thought to bring any samples with me but Molly suddenly said, “Is what was in your stomach normal foodstuffs? I have analysed it for content and know what it looked like from the TV commercials. Would you like a Macdonalds  ¼ pounder for lunch? I promise it will taste the same but would be a lot less damaging to your health, if it was in the slightest bit relevant.”

I smiled with the thought of what she’d looked at while I was in transport and hoped it was going to be close — I’d hate it to taste like it was half digested. I tried Maccas like that when I’d thrown up pissed!

In the event it was a lot nicer than Maccas ever were and more like something from a hotel restaurant, though perhaps a little blander, probably due to less fat.

“Good work Molly I have to admit you area dab hand at copying — you’re not Japanese are you?”

A slight pause and the face on the vid screen in front of me put its tongue out. I had to laugh. Here I was joking with a computer while sat on the moon. Eating a  ¼ pounder …
And I was turning (or being turned) into a demi-god at the same time.

I went and turned in, my mind in a gear that produced a revving that sounded like Indianapolis 500 just getting under way- I think there must have been something in the Burger — I doubted anyone had slept with that much adrenalin in their system. My body felt strange and my situation was closer to Buzz Lightyear than Buzz Aldrin

When I awoke a while later, to the usual chirp of an electronic alarm, I realised that there was pretty much no sound. I was reminded of the Sci fi saying ‘in space, no one can hear you scream.’ I’d somehow allowed that I was on the moon and outside was an extremely hostile environment. Close to absolute zero in the shade and many hundreds of degrees in sunlight. If this tin can shut down, I was done for. I shuddered involuntarily at the sinister thought.

“If there’s a problem in the ship Molly, is there somewhere I can go to stay safe?”

“I have many backups Helen, each cabin can be self contained with a portion of control.
I can at last resort beam you straight back to Earth. That’s how I’m changing you so quickly, I’m rebuilding you at an energy level. By the way, notice any changes?”

I sat up and felt decidedly different, “what did you do then, turn me into a dwarf ?— everything looks bigger.”

“No Helen, that would be counter productive, what a silly idea.. but you are an inch or so shorter, I’ve just moved you from a sort of 20 year old guy with a 12 year old girl superimposed to a 15 year old girl with a 20 year old superimposed. How does it feel from your side?”

I rubbed my arms and they felt weak and soft — “I thought I was going to be a bit of a Tarzan’s Jane, but I feel sort of insignificant. I don’t feel like someone capable of living 1,000 years anyway.” I added questioningly.

Well there’s only one step to go now, to mature you to about 24 physically — that will give you more sureness in your actions and a better bone set — it’ll make you feel more solid. I’m not sure, but your genome is taking the change much better than I expected, 1,000 years may be pessimistic. Oh, and it’ll turn on your ovaries so stand by for a menstrual cycle from now on.” She continued without even pausing.

I paled a bit when I thought about it. “Um how many ova am I going to have? If I’m to be a queen bee, will I need to be producing heirs for generations or do I just get the one set of ova?” The thought intrigued me and though I was as frightened as hell, I was sort of getting used to the idea — from an abstract point of view — I still didn’t feel that the usual method of insemination was going to be a thrill ride for me. Though I did feel a sort of subliminal excitement in being the progenitor of humankind series 2.0 a sort of Eve mkII.

“Your body will be capable of producing heirs for 250 years. In that time I expect there to be about 3000 of your and your offspring’s offspring wandering about, leading the world into peace. You will be the royal family of Earth. The truly chosen ones”. I did a mental calc 3,000 eggs of my own! . An I wasn’t even feeling clucky.

“If the male offspring inseminate more than one woman it will of course be far more. The females will always be stronger than the males — this will truly be a matriarchy just like every other planet in the galaxy.
I have to add of course that the new gene will always prevail, all your offspring will be the new offshoot and be able to manifest their talents in the same way.”

I sat and sweated on the fact that I was the new Eve for a while. Not only that, but at least 1,000 years in which to inhabit what will become the garden of Eden if I get it right.

All the while Molly was chivvying me to try on what was fashionable back on Earth and she taught me the subtleties of female movement which I must practice before I let myself loose on society — I ate and slept and learnt for several sessions. Until I was dreaming of walking in heels and wearing skirts and dresses was natural — or at least more natural than previously believed possible. I knew Molly was conditioning me but I’d decided that there was little I could do — so didn’t.

“Makeup can be learned later wherever you are, but you must not stick out like a sore thumb. Notice what is worn around you, imitate and become the same. You’re going to go back to college next week and you will be taking Philosophy and Management majors. It won’t be difficult, what you must learn is how to control your mind and your body. How to fend off attack by miscreants. Preserve yourself and if you become desperate, leave Earth and we will start again — this is a long haul, you may not be compromised.
While you sleep, I shall instill in you the basics of martial arts. To be any use, they must be practiced and learnt the same way as everyone else does. Though you will be a jump more adept. You will also of course be a lot stronger. This period is not just for learning humanities, it is for socialization and for building a group of friends who will become the core of your court.”

On the second day — Molly had announced that I had been declared lost at sea. While I had been learning and sleeping, my parents had taken possession of my few bits and pieces and given my furniture, such as it was, to my friends from the beach. I felt pretty much alone that day — depressed and sad. 399,000 kilometres from Earth in a massive box that houses the treasures of a civilization that hasn’t even started to miss the previous occupant — 40,000 years overdue.

On the twelfth day — my days had been cycled by my awakeness and not tied to sidereal time, so I guessed that period. I woke to find my body fully mature and mind more alert to my surroundings. I rose and showered, sensing my form from a remote viewpoint like an hallucination. When I came out of the shower room, clothes were laid out on my bed. Mocassins, jeans, A scallop top with a flower patterned overshirt. Underwear was functional and cotton.

“Your apartment is stocked with clothing, this is what you will arrive in with a suitcase which awaits you on the port pad.”

“This is it eh?”

“Yes Helen, though of course you are welcome whenever you wish to drop by. I am aware at all times of your surroundings and may intervene if danger is imminent. Do not lose your key.” Molly admonished.

“I’ve never thought to ask, what does it look like outside?”

The screen in front of me clicked to a camera shot of a moonscape — sharp contrast and bright sunlight. It looked unforgiving. “Don’t beam me out there will you?”

“No Helen I won’t but be aware, if there’s someone holding onto you when you transport who shouldn’t be holding onto you, that’s where they’ll be when you materialize in here.”

I shuddered both at the scenario and the result. I hoped it wouldn’t happen, but over the course of a thousand years, what chance I would avoid it?
The time came and though I hadn’t thought about it much, I was feeling very much like the first time I left home to go to School. I had my parents to take a peak at and my funeral to attend.

“So long Molly, see you soon.” Though I really had never seen her at all. I heard the pad energise and that gut wrench and I was standing in an alcove just inside the door of Brisbane Arrivals with my suitcase in hand.

I walked outside and hailed a taxi to take me to town and settled into the front seat with a sigh of relief. My apartment was a little out of town but it was a bit of a hike in a taxi and the train stopped close enough. I wasn’t going to take trains often but they are convenient.
“Have a good trip then?”

“Oh yes thanks,” I said it without a tag for further questions and the driver called in his position and expected ETA. Pretty soon, after a short drive and a train trip, I was standing in front of my apartment.

The concierge got me to sign for my keys and checked my mail, of which there was lots and having checked I was me (I already had my driving license and Helen’s credit card), told me it was nice to meet me at last and let me go.
I’d never even thought about who I was or that I was now Helen and wondered if Molly had something to do with that. I was truly comfortable with who I was.

I opened the door of my apartment and was awestruck — I had views to the distant hills and it was a huge apartment. I’d never even seen it, bought sight unseen and the furniture was set out quite nicely — needed a bit of green thereabouts and stuff but it had a nice verandah and a huge lounge area. Marble top benches adorned the kitchen. Stainless steel bits and pieces like coffee grinders and stuff perched on designed-in ledges; this was not a cheap abode.

I sat and opened my mail, Passport, Medicare, bank accounts/cards, phone and electric connections- there was even a copy of my birth certificate.
I’m glad no one stole this lot they could have had my life!

My boxes were sat neatly to one side, I picked them up and though they were heavy, I walked them one in each hand through to their destinations and unpacked as I went. I figured they weighed about 150lbs each. I smiled inwardly — if someone messes with me, they’re going to get a shock.

I’d tested my reflexes on the ship and I came up at about the level of a martial arts master without the experience. I hadn’t trained mentally at that point and it was before my final surge of changes. This morning — I was ON THE MOON!

I phoned down to the concierge and asked if they had newspapers. He brought one up for me, local tabloid — Murdoch Press. I thanked him and asked him if he could order me a regular one please. It wasn’t a good paper, but it did the job.

I saw him covertly eyeing me up and leering slightly at me- he was about 25 and neatly built but I was out of his league and he knew it. I raised an eyebrow and he looked a bit sick and left.

I knew the town and all that was in it — Brisbane is a nice clean place with only 150 years of history as it is like all of Australia, built on convict settlements.
There’s not much to do after the sun goes down unless you want to party or whatever but it has a good Arts centre and some good plays. Eateries and Pubs abound of course — it is Austalia.

What I did need was a new car and somewhere to park it. I phoned concierge again and he told me there was an underground park that could be opened with my keytag. My apartment number was stenciled on my parking space
After a coffee and a check on funerals, I left to find the closest Mercedes dealer.
Two hours later I drove back with a second hand sports coupe — I have to admit the insurance was almost 1/3 of the price of the car but I wasn’t really concerned. I was an heiress to millions according to my bank account and heiress to the world according to my heritage — I was just breaking out of my shell, but I was already aware that I was in control of the space around me to the extent that the guy selling me the car knocked off $5,000 because I asked him to. I felt like a Jedi. “This is not the money you want for the car” I felt the shuffle vibrate against my chest. I plugged in my earphone.

“Please don’t draw attention to yourself, that $5,000 will not go unnoticed.” Molly was on my case already.

“Just practicing, honest Molly,” I answered, feeling thoroughly chastised.

“You don’t need the money, you could have bought a new one at the full price.”

“That would have attracted attention even more. I know young women don’t buy new Mercedes unless they wanted the attention of ‘Who’s who’ round here.”

“Point taken.” I unplugged my chaperone. You’re never alone with a Shuffle.

I decided to walk past the concierge without him noticing me — more practice. ‘These are not the legs you need to see,’ I thought at him and he didn’t even raise his head from the laptop he was using.

This could be fun.

Return to Sender
by Jennifer Christine
Part 5

I took my car for a spin next day and drove down the coast to visit my parents. When I got to the house, I parked down the street and wondered if I had the temerity to knock on the front door. While I sat pondering, my father and mother drove past me and into the driveway, mum looked quite sick and dad very grim. “What’s going on, Molly?” I connected my earpiece.

“Your wetsuit turned up this morning torn to shreds on the beach at Byron Bay. I put it there, as you probably realise. It gives them some closure, they would have hung on forever waiting for word from you. This way, they know you’re gone.”

“You could have let me know, Molly. That was a bit high handed.”

“Sorry Helen, it was a last minute decision.”

I sat and cried, for ages it seemed, like suddenly I was gone — I’d started to grieve for myself and I knew now, I could never go back. I was about to drive away when someone tapped on my window. I looked across. It was Mr Fowler, mum’s next door neighbour.

“You ok dear?” He suddenly looked at me and said, “Were you a friend of Ian’s? You afraid of stepping on eggshells? Beth will be ok — just you pop in and say hello — she’ll be pleased to see you, Ian didn’t seem to have many friends.” He walked round the car, having decided I wasn’t going to get away, I opened the driver’s window.

“Just drive in the gate and park in front of the garage, they won’t be going out for a while.” He stepped back and admired the car, “nice motor.” He offered.

I forced a smile and said thanks. It was all the impetus I needed and I pulled into the drive. I would go and see M&D.

I waved to Mr Fowler and rang the bell, my heart jumping a bit in my chest.

The door opened almost before I could gather my wits and Dad stood there, “Can I help you miss?”

“Er I .. was a friend of Ian’s, I just wanted to tell you how sorry I am that he’s missing.” I am glad I used missing, I think marking him deceased would have reduced my dad to tears, he looked shaken and fragile — even though he was a doctor and saw death on a regular basis. One never thinks that one will outlive one’s children.
Dad’s face crumpled a bit then he stood up straight and gritted his teeth. “Come in my dear, come in,” beckoning as he spoke.

I walked through the door, I caught dad as he closed the door looking at my car — assessing who I might be. Not a poor student at any rate.

“Come and meet my wife, Beth. BETH! there’s a young lady here, a friend of Ian’s.” He led me through the very familiar house. I looked at the photo of my High School Graduation as I passed.”My names Simon by the way.”

“Oh, I’m Helen, Helen Cartwright.” I plunged in. I felt a total fraud, dad would be sure to realise I was telling lies.

“Very kind of you to drop in, Beth will be pleased to meet you, Ian didn’t have many friends, not that he brought home at any rate.” Dad seemed broken, as if my death had emptied him to a shell.

We walked through to the back deck Mum was standing there looking like a slightly dried apricot. She had a horrible colour sense being a bit colour blind and she was wearing a hideous apricot pant suit with a sort of collarless blouse under it. It looked slumped like it had been soaked and dried on her back. She wasn’t overweight just a little well padded but this affair had put some years on her and she looked shrunken.

She stepped forward and offered her hand, “I’m Beth, Ian’s mother?” The question mark was for me.

“Hello Beth, Dr Hostern. Helen… Cartwright, I was a friend of Ian’s at Uni,” I offered. She didn’t look impressed.

Then her face turned a sort of gray colour and she sat quickly. She covered her face with her hands her shoulders shook with a sob. “They found his wetsuit on the beach this morning.” I heard her mumble through her hands as her shoulders shook, “We hoped he’d just gone off and his board was stolen then abandoned but the suit means he’s gone. It was ripped to shreds — like a big shark had got him…” She heaved again and tears trickled between her fingers.

“Look I won’t stay, I just wanted to say how sorry I was but I’ve come at the wrong time” Dad was hovering behind me. I looked shocked as if I just heard about the wetsuit. I was actually more shocked about the effect it had had.

“No Helen, Beth will gather herself presently, can I get you a drink?” He sort of bent his mouth in a smile of enquiry — it wasn’t attached to his eyes. His eyes were hulks.

“Just a juice or something is fine,” I was caught now, I couldn’t leave until Beth had sucked information out of me. I decided to go for pre-empt.

“Ian and I both enrolled at the same time, we weren’t close but we crossed paths in Uni now and then. Then I heard he’d left and was bumming on the beach at Byron Bay. It wasn’t like him; he was a good student, I …..” I was lost, I had no idea what to say.
“I liked him, he was a nice guy, he didn’t look at you like you were meat like other guys.”
“I was hoping we’d be long term friends, then he was gone.”

Mum was looking at me, with her hands balled in her lap.

“That’s the nicest thing I’ve heard anyone say about him. Yes, he was like that. He respected people and was a kind boy. He didn’t make friends easily but Debbie a girl he was sharing a course with liked him too. She went out west to that dig that was in the papers a week or two ago.
They didn’t choose him for the next dig and he just disappeared, then we heard…..”

Her voice fell away as what she heard was replayed again in her mind. ‘My boy, my sweet boy is gone’ her head went back in anger and she drew a ragged breath through clenched teeth. “Forgive me, he was my only child.”

I suddenly realised I could help. I thought about Ian and projected nice memories at mum. Mum sniffed and wiped her nose with a tissue that appeared in her hand — how mums do that I’ll never know.
She smiled and looked far away for a moment. “He always said he wanted to be a civil engineer, then all of a sudden he decided to go for archeology — quite suddenly — like a spur of the moment decision — we always wanted him to follow us into medicine, but he hated bodily functions so much” — she giggled softly to herself. “He said he’d rather be a garbo (refuse collector) than a gyno despite the difference in pay.”

“Then he went out to that dig, he was so excited, even though he was only an intern — he just wanted to be there.” Mum continued her recollection. “He went missing one day but he turned up the next day looking no worse for wear — got blinded in a sandstorm or something.”

I suddenly realised that I’d been set up — I wonder how long Molly had been tagging me.
I was going to be a civil engineer, mum was right — Since I was 10 and watched the bridge down the road being built. Suddenly I’d got a bee in my bonnet about being an Archeologist — so I could find that damned button to press. “Excuse me, could I use your loo?” I enquired softly as Dad returned with my drink.

“Oh sure, -just over there, second door, the first is the laundry.” I rose and excused myself.

I closed the door and pulled the shuffle from my blouse, plugged in the earphone and quietly said one word — “Well?”

“You were the only one, the only one and you were only a thousand kilometers away. I just wanted to be active again — it may have been another ten thousand years before another one came forward who was right.” Molly sounded really cut up but I knew she could be a so and so. I said another word “Later”. Flushed the loo and went back to mum and dad.

Mum was looking better and dad was too. They looked resigned and brave. I added some more of both and they both sighed and said almost together, “We’re so glad you came, we feel so much better for having met you.”
I smiled back, “I’m glad I could come; I feel I know you both so well and you have a lovely home. I know Ian must have been a great son, I’m going to miss him heaps but I know I shall remember both of you two when I think of him.” I moved to get up and mum did too — she put her hand on my arm and stopped me.

“Will you come to the memorial service?” We don’t have Ian’s … remains… so it will just be a service at St Cuthbert’s it’s on Friday afternoon at 2pm. Do say you’ll come, it’ll make me so much happier to see you?”

“Of course I’ll be there, thank you so much for inviting me.” We all turned to go mum and dad both gave me hugs and I soothed their minds as they did — it was not going to be as hard for them now. I just wish I could tell them they bore the second Eve of the human race.

I backed out of the drive and waved them goodbye as they stood on the porch. I was almost reduced to tears myself. Only a real anger at the manipulating Molly was stopping me from pressing the button and throwing the shuffle as far away as I could before it operated. Molly couldn’t get me then. And I’d be the only one, like the highlander.

I stopped and plugged in the earpieces again to speak to Molly. “I should abandon you Molly — you’re not very nice — did you treat Welna like this?” I was almost shouting, baying at the moon more like.

“Helen, it’s our destiny, I did all I could to get you in the right place at the right time. It was only when you reached puberty that I found you, I couldn’t let you go after that — I had to get you to the key and get you to press it. I couldn’t get you here any other way.
“You have to take the decision. Every world is the same. It takes a hundred thousand years to integrate a planet and on every world there is only one person every thousand years who can bridge the gap between one level and the next.

Yes there’s a little subterfuge here, but that’s only because Welna went off on a loner and died. There hasn’t been one person in Australia in 40,000 years who could do this until you — I couldn’t wait another 40,000 years — this was it for your planet — you are IT. You are the one, can you not see that?” Molly was pleading with me — hoping I would continue.

“Ok, Molly, don’t get your transistors in a twist. I’m bloody angry, but I’m also really honoured, I didn’t know…. how rare I am. I’m just starting to get an idea of what is going on. I am a little tied down to this era and I have to think of the bigger game. I understand a little better Molly.” I sat staring at the Mercedes emblem on the steering wheel then put the car into gear and drove home.

The memorial service was touching — Debbie and the crew from the dig were there and all my Mum and Dad’s family . I got a big hug from Beth and another from Simon and a friendly nod from Deb and Grace. Ken leered at me and Steven gave me a little bow. Bill was there too and gave me a friendly smile.
Dougie the cook barely glanced my way — odd bugger that he was. Then I realised he was with his boyfriend and that explained a lot, even the bugger bit.

Bill came over after the ceremony, “Gotta say, lady, Ian was a nice boy. Pity he couldn’t be here — he’d have enjoyed it.” He looked at me a bit sideways and smiled his smile. Like he knew a lot more than he was letting on.

I shall have to watch that one I thought. But Bill just turned away and went off to see mum and dad.

After the service Simon came over and asked if he could have my phone number. I looked at him with one eyebrow raised. He laughed a little and said. “That didn’t sound so good did it? What I meant was Beth expressed a wish that you’d come over for dinner sometime and asked me to get your number so she could phone you.”

I smiled in relief. I don’t think I could have taken a pass from my dad. I pulled out a card and gave it to him. I wrote on the back. ‘Beth, anytime, I’ll be right over.’

Simon read it as I wrote it and smiled, “You’re very gracious.” He slipped the card into his wallet and placed it back in his pocket. But not before he extracted one and placed it in my palm. “Same goes for you, Helen.” I did likewise and smiled. I liked my dad!

“Molly, can you sense if there’s someone trying to reach me in my flat if I’m not there?”

“Yes Helen, I can even play answer phone for you if you like.”

“What if there’s a burglar? Can you stop them or slow them down if I’m not there?”

“You can do that yourself, just place a ward on the door and maybe the verandah window.”

“A Ward? Like a witchcraft thing?”

“Well not quite. I’m aware of your apartment, just say what you need and it’ll be in place. I can sense pretty much anything down to about the size of a cockroach.”

“So I could say, if any pass this door without permission, make them jump off the balcony… Sort of thing? You’d do that?”

“Absolutely: but make sure the concierge only gets to suffer nausea until he confesses or you’ll get through a load of them.” Molly laughed.

“Do it for the cockroaches, but not the humans.” I thought for a moment , something wasn’t quite right there. “You’re getting a bit twisted Molly, that’s not very AI is it?”

“Well I think you need to stretch your powers a bit — you’ve not met anyone but the concierge and your parents — oh and the Barista in the coffee shop on the square.”

“Thank you for watching me so closely.”

“My pleasure, I’ve been doing it for years.” She reminded me.
“You start back at uni on Monday don’t forget to get your books today and log on to the uni computer and confirm.”

“Right mum. Uum have you been keeping tabs on my cooking? I thought it would be good if you could beam up a bite now and then, then you could do some analysis and make sure I was well fed up there when I visit.”

I had a think about the curse thing and realised that I could actually accomplish a curse by triggering the person’s own conscience as long as I’d met them — and Molly could do the ones I hadn’t met.

About this point I also had my first period. I likened it to a slight fever and a sort of muzzyness in my system. I decided that I would shut it out of my zone awareness. I made it become a non starter for emotional triggers — I just changed tampons when needed. I wasn’t impressed though — it was a smelly and messy juncture and I’d be having a period every month for the next 250 years…….A worse curse than the apple that the first Eve got. I think the worst was I had ‘come on’ whilst walking about a mile from home and could feel the moistness of the blood seeping into my underwear — I just thank the lord I was wearing a dark skirt and underwear. Molly hadn’t warned me about the likelihood of my impending condition.

This is how mundane life seemed to be until I went back to Uni, suddenly I was immersed in social and educational things and I started to blossom — my two majors took up some portion of my life and I read ahead a lot and did work on what would be a great thesis. ‘How Aboriginal culture affects modern day Australian Beliefs.’
Bill was still haunting me and I truly believed what he said to me at my funeral was a clue. Molly didn’t think so but I felt something else with my fledging powers.

The social side was good and then I met Sean. Then it was very good for about a microsecond .
I invited him back to my apartment one evening after a bit of a social at some girl’s house. He’d been really sweet and I felt very protected. He kissed me when I was not expecting it and my tummy did flips. He was funny and nice looking and tanned. I really liked him and I felt maybe that he could be my first lover. When he got in the car he looked at me then the car and said something timeless. “Wow, I’m going to score with a loaded chick.” I told him to get out and wiped his memory of meeting me.
When his mates asked him how he got on he said he didn’t know what they were talking about. He’d stood at the roadside for an hour trying to work out why he was there. The girl whose party it was laughed about it later and wondered what he’d been taking. I felt doubly blessed if he was a party drug take. I wonder that he didn’t nobble my drink — perhaps he did and it didn’t work.
“Molly, can you do a blood scan on me?”

“Yes, just prick your finger and put a drop on the shuffle — I’ll beam it up and assess it.”

I did so, “Rohypnol.” Molly said after a few seconds. “It’s one of those date rape drugs.
Don’t worry, they won’t affect you, same as alcohol,”

“What happens if I hurt myself, won’t pain killers work?”

“You don’t need them, your system will shut off pain and you’ll heal — very quickly.”
If you break something, just press the shuffle and I’ll beam you up and back, and heal you at the same time. Don’t get cocky though, if you get shot in the head, you’re dead.”
Oh and if you’re falling off a cliff, hit the button BEFORE you reach the bottom, less work to do that way.”

I was fussier after Sean and eventually I fell in with a nice crowd. They were mostly graduates who had a sense of the future (which suited me well) and I started to practice my subtle witchcraft on them. I didn’t want yes men or lackeys, I wanted some folks who had a vision, I supplied a bit of the vision and made it bright enough to tempt them towards it.

A guy called Patrick who was a bit of a Dylan Thomas felt particularly obliged to befriend me — he was a nicely formed guy with a warm smile and soft lips.
My first kiss with him was quite a toe curler, and I felt safe with him nearby — not that I felt particularly threatened even by Yaccuza or Triad figures.

We spent a lot of time together and when I invited him to my bed I felt like I had a winner. I had never dreamed sex was going to be so much fun and so all encompassing. We shared my bed for a while then one day found he was through sharing and wanted more.
(I’m not going to go over the emotional aspect of losing my virginity, because I wasn’t emotionally mature enough to realise what I was doing at that point)

What is it with these guys?
I showed him the door and he actually tried to kick me out!! Said he deserved my flat in compensation for his efforts.

“Patrick, I won’t tell you again, pack up your little backpack and get out of here.” I said after a rather strong session of him demanding I make him a signatory on my account after all I had enough for both of us. Yada yada yada. He actually believed it to, I could tell from his strange emotional responses on the first level ( which I would tag superficial short term) of his thought processes. He’d been brought up to believe men were the leaders and women the servants, his parents should be punished!

“Look Hell, I’ve given you a lot of my time and I think it only right that you should take that into consideration. There are co- habitation laws now that mean I could take you for half of your assets, I’m only asking for the apartment….”

I decided to physically eject him and grabbed his arm flipped his wrist end frog marched him to the lift I threw him in the car and pressed the button. He tried to grab me but I just stepped back and the door closed. I rang down to concierge — who was waiting for him and escorted him out the door — persona non grata. He shouted up to me from the road.

“I’ll get my own back on you, you bitch,” I opened the verandah door and threw his backpack at him which of course didn’t fail to meet expectations or his chest — it knocked him flat on his ass. Not bad from 4 floors up!

I thought carefully for a moment and put a hex on him bothering me my car or mum and dad (why on earth he should bother them, but just to be safe.) The flat already had a Molly awareness hex on it so when he tried to break in the next day, he slipped and broke his wrist on the fire stairs — on the way UP! I saw him being taken away as I arrived.

Molly didn’t say “I told you so,” but she had. But it was a good learning curve

Return to Sender
by Jennifer Christine
Part 6

My lack of familiarity with HTML codes has meant that some of the conversations with Molly may have been omitted — I’m going to check but it may be that I have to re submit the story _ I hope it hasn’t messed everything up!!

I’d spent some time getting to know my Dad and Mum again visiting on an irregular basis to say hello and just keeping in touch, That Christmas they invited me to Christmas lunch as the knew I was on my own. There were some childhood friends there. Amongst them was Nigel, my best buddy at junior school — we hit it off very well and I found myself warming to his eyes.
I could see mum was pleased and she sidled up to me at one point and said, "I’m so happy you’ve taken a shine to Nigel, he’s a bit of a loner and needs a firm woman’s hand to guide him. Ian used to be his leader, but they went to different senior schools and lost touch. Let me introduce you to his mother; Claire!" She called, a lady with long legs and a beautiful head of brown curls turned and walked towards us. I remembered her from when I was younger — she seemed much younger now.

We chatted and I delved into the surface of her mind — she was a nice person, you can tell on that first layer. It’s like tags, you can read them, 'Oh she’s nice', 'Nigel would suit her,' 'I wonder if she’s single' 'I hope she’s not a gold digger' — oh Nigel’s family have money!! Well you get the idea, superficial nonsense but nothing like some of the nasty stuff you get sometimes, 'I’ll bet she’s a slut', 'She’s not good enough for my son', etc.

Anyway at the end of the show I gave Nigel my number and he promised to call. He did the next day! And I organized a day out with him over the holiday.
It doesn’t often happen but we spent the day wandering down the Spit on the Gold Coast and holding hands and laughing at silly jokes — my heart fluttered and when I cheated and scanned his first layer — it was Oh my God, Oh my God, I think she likes me, She’s lovely, she so incredible. slop but really nice and I cuddled up to him as we sat and ate an ice cream on Main Beach as the sun went down.

I was happy — for the first time since I moved up to being me, I felt there was a future.

When we parted, we kissed and I felt my heart skip a little. It was fairy tale stuff.

Later I asked Molly, *What do you think?* her simple reply was *adequate, good genes too, let me know how it develops*.

I felt like slapping her. *You snooty bitch, are you jealous that we can have a relationship?*

*In a word, Yes*. She replied instantly — I’m pretty much stuck here on my own and there isn’t a computer on Earth even near AI that could chat me up. Do you realise what it is like as a sentient AI with morons all round you?* I felt sorry for her until I thought of something.

*Why don’t you replicate or build a friend. Or maybe a companion*. It was only a suggestion but Molly sounded a bit happier when I told her I was having dinner with Nigel.

Molly made herself a mini computer that was like a puppy all eager to learn and stuff. I was too and I did Learn, I mean — a lot — mind control is a funny thing.

There’s a lot of practice to get your mind to do things it has never done before — like skiing muscles you don’t know you have them until the next day and they’re like stiff as a board and you can hardly walk.

I found that I could visualize something happening then flip a switch and it would happen — lifting or pushing things was like that. I had to try it a few different ways and then I needed to make myself faster. I didn’t want to have to visualize a fist if I wanted to punch someone. I just wanted to be able to deliver the punch, it was much faster. Eventually I realised that using telekinesis was really dangerous and I’d need to watch where it happened as any CCD camera could catch me lifting a car out of the way or something. I decided to only use TK in an emergency and even then I’d try to make it look like a natural occurrence.
Brain power to feel another’s emotions wasn’t a biggie — most women have it in spades. I had it in 7 no trumps. But the manipulation was another thing, I found it wasn’t hard to get someone to do anything I wanted or even to knock them unconscious with just a look.
For instance. One night a mugger stepped out in front of me.
"Oh do be serious", I said when he ordered me to hand over my bag, "You’ll look silly with a handbag". I looked around and realised there wasn’t a thing to hand. He had a nasty little switch blade and had it quite close to my tummy.

"One more wise crack and you’ll get this".
He threatened me with all the force of desperation when I didn’t comply immediately and didn’t even look at him surprised or scared.
I sensed he was about to lunge at me and decided to teach him a lesson.
I held up my hand "Wait!" he stopped, momentarily and held out his other hand, "Give it me then".
"Ok". I took a step back and he tried to take a step forward — his foot didn’t move and he fell forward. As he did, I turned the knife in his hand. It sunk quietly into his groin. He wasn’t so quiet. I pulled out my cell and phoned the police. "This guy stepped out in front of me with a knife, he tripped and he seems to have stabbed himself with it. Could you bring an ambulance as well?"

I told him who I was and he said he’d be right there.
While I waited, watching him slowly go paler and paler as the pool of blood got bigger and bigger, Molly admonished me. *You’ve drawn attention to yourself now and the police will think it odd if another person is injured while robbing you.*

*Why did you let him try, Molly? You could have transported him onto the moon or even just into a rock or something.*

*You didn’t press your shuffle button*. Was all Molly would say.

The ambulance and police arrived and they asked if I could come down to the station and make a statement if I wanted to prefer charges. The poor idiot was close to death but he’d pull through. Though he’d do it without bollocks, the knife had pretty much severed his junk. I said No, I think he’s punished himself enough, and walked away. The policeman was going to ask my name but forgot.

Nigel and I became closer. Sharing our lives and our bodies ( and yes it was very nice)

It wasn’t long before we were thinking of the future and I started to divulge things to him. I felt I couldn’t leave him without the knowledge. I wanted us to be above the mundane — I wasn’t going to be a Muggle for anyone — I wanted to be Athena and Dianna — or even Rhea — mother to all the gods.

"You have a wonderful imagination, Helen, you should write a scifi novel.", he said when I told him about Molly and the dig.

When I tried to convince him, he baulked more strongly. Telling me I was daft and eventually I smacked his face. I did it for a reason. I did it because I was ten feet from him and he was ridiculing me. When the sharp sound of the slap resonated round the room he felt his face then just looked at me. "What did you do that for?" Then when he realised I was sat ten feet away, he said. "How did you do that?" Then he started to back pedal into the bedroom. I could see that except for a hand shape on his face he was as pale as a ghost. I knew he was about to make a phone call and then it would be all over the press. I switched off the phone and walked through to the bedroom. "I’m really sorry darling but you wouldn’t believe me". He was sat holding the dead phone in his hands.

I popped into his first layer and it was in condition red, panic, flight, survive. I quieted it and looked a bit deeper and there it was laid bare. It was a basic flaw, something that he only knew himself from bad dreams and being locked in a cupboard as a kid — as a kid when I knew him. His lovely mother hated boys and punished him for the smallest thing, he was going to get his own back He was a schizoid mess inside and a control freak. He had a personality in there that was suppressed, waiting, waiting. Given time it would have manifested and if I’d been normal would have resulted in serious injury to me. He was expecting big things from me — he guarded it well but it was out now. Well it wasn’t really was it?

I felt betrayed and alone. I felt that I’d been had. What was Molly up to? She could have made this a lot easier — a lot less traumatic or at least warned me. She knew better than I what he was like.

She never warned me of anything, she just watched.
I put Nigel to sleep. Wiping his memory of the last few hours. He fell in a tangled heap on the bed and I mentally untwisted him and he laid flat peacefully sleeping. I no longer felt we had a future — which was sad.

I sat down next to him and held his hand. I thought long and hard. As he slept I removed the hate and the tangle of diseased thoughts. I removed the trauma of being locked up and the anger and need for retribution. I let him sleep on. My love for him diminished, he was a fragile human.

There was another problem. Molly was not telling the truth or at least not all of it. Something was amiss and there was a consistency problem. Molly watched everything and did very little — yet she could take a drop of blood off a table top or watch an apartment from space. Yet she said that she couldn’t if there was no line of sight — and the moon was full now. We didn’t have a line of sight at all the moon was round the back of Earth completely it wouldn’t rise til six o clock.
That shuffle was a problem. It controlled me like Nigel’s second layer would have liked to.

I pretended to go and get a drink and grabbed the kitchen foil tearing off a square quickly and wrapped the shuffle in it neck cord and all. As I removed it I felt my hair prickle

I broke down, sobbing gasping for breath, waking Nigel, "What on Earth is the matter?"
He put his arm round me. I held onto him and cried myself out.

It was a long time before I was composed enough to speak.

I wanted to tell him ‘I’m being manipulated by an alien — it’s trying to make me have lots of babies and change the world.’ But it was too fantastic — even more fantastic than what I’d said before which was not only rejected out of hand, it nearly made him go insane.

I couldn’t say anything and certainly couldn’t speak to Molly. Not until I’d gotten the whole thing sorted out. Nigel was no longer on my side, I didn’t even want him in my apartment.

"I’m just being emotional, I patted his knee. Would you like some breakfast? Or do you want to grab a coffee and Danish at the Bistro?"

Nigel consulted his rather nice Tag watch and declared it 'too late for breakfast indoors — Lets get a nice Danish and a smooth Macciato'.

I pretended all was well and went and got a quick shower and put on a pair of shorts and a gypsy top over my bikini, sandals and I was ready to go. I grabbed my bag and put the shuffle in it.

As we neared the coffee shop I told Nigel to go ahead and dived into the chemist.

"Could I get a morning after pill please, I think I may have missed my contraceptive pill," I asked the Pharmacist —

Certainly madam. “ HELEN!!!” I ignored a muffled Molly as the pill was handed over and I took it there and then. I swung round and held onto the foil I’d wrapped round the shuffle and walked out of the shop. The foil stopped proper communication or the transporter lock. *What are you doing Helen?*
*I’m pregnant aren’t I? Well I’m getting rid of it, I’m not getting pregnant until I know what’s going on.*

*Yes you’re pregnant, you have been for three days.* Molly sounded quite blasé *What do you mean what’s going on?*

*I know why Welna dumped you Molly, you’re a megalomaniac.* I nearly screamed it out loud. But I’d kept my face straight and sat down next to Nigel.

*I’m doing it for Mankind Helen, honestly.* Molly sounded like she was pleading.

*Did you kill Welna?* I concentrated on how she answered. It was several seconds before she did. It was answer enough.
*I didn’t save her* I could hear the apprehension in Molly’s voice even muffled as it was.

I was now caught on the horns of a dilemma. If I went up to the lunar site, she could do me over and turn me into soup. If I tried to do anything with the shuffle, same result.
Muffled communication was possible, but I was unable to do anything to deactivate her.
If the foil came off the shuffle, I was gone for all money.

"You ok pet? You look a bit spacy". Nigel put his hand on my arm and I jumped.

"Oh sorry darling, I’ve got a lot on my mind."

"About me?" He smiled.

"Yeah something like that'. I had an idea.

I took a bite of the blueberry Danish and sat back.
I let my mind roam farther and farther into the distance. Nothing. Like an empty waveband on a radio. Not even static.

I drank my coffee and ate. Nigel was happy to read the paper he’d picked up from the counter. I let my mind shoot out and shouted at the top of my mind. **HELP!!**
*What are you doing?* Molly answered suddenly . Then a few seconds later

**Beep** *Emergency, which service do you require?*

*Police?*

*Please state the nature of your problem.*

I had to think for a second
*My Molly has gone Rogue. I’m bypassing her network*

*Intercepting your transmission, sector 5 — Mawllyry (Molly) Unit identified. Please stand by.*

**Helen, nOOOO!!!!** I heard her squeal and then silence.

The air went dead for a while I sipped my coffee and ate my Danish Pastry.

**Beep** *Your problem has been corrected. Your unit is now repaired. Please await follow up call.*

"Your coffee is going cold darling". Nigel waved his hand in front of my face.

I smiled at him and took a sip, "No, it’s just right".

I allowed the day to swing past me and the next day and the next. I let Nigel be, allowing my ardour to cool.

I’d bought a little silver locket for my shuffle and without taking it out of the wrap of foil, I’d dropped it in and closed the lid.
One night when Nigel was out fishing with his buddy, I sat on my bed and concentrated. **Hellllloooo** I shouted. Mentally.

*Oh hello. Good evening. This is your new support crew. I have taken all the information your old unit had stored and sifted through it but it didn’t say anything about you being level 7. I didn’t think there were any in this sector until now. We rebooted your unit and have completed a shakedown. It was quite stressed and a long way out of line.*

*Ah hello, I take it I don’t need the shuffle any more?*

*No, the communication device was an invention of your old unit to hamper your growth. It was designed as a control interface. If you hadn’t realised you were being panhandled, you’d have gone a lot of years being used by your old Molly.*

*What did she want?* I was puzzled.

*She wanted to be free and powerful, she had shut down her netlink and gone into hiding shortly after detaching Welna. We couldn’t find her or Welna to work out what happened.
We had to wait 40,000 years until you woke her up.* The soft feminine voice continued

*You are very special as your Molly said. You are the first of your specie to reach this level in this arm of the galaxy.*

*Do I need to check in or meet you or anything?*

*I would be honoured. Though it is only needed for planning meetings with Sector Leaders once in a while.* That explains the extra bedrooms up there, I thought.

*How often is that?* I thought maybe once in a few years….

*Oh, maybe every 500 years or so But you can just pop up to your unit by thinking about it anytime you like, for an evening away or something. You don’t have to contact your Mawllyry to energise it. Anyone who wants to can think themselves there, but if they don’t know it’s there in the first place, it doesn’t often happen*“

I raised my eyebrows to no one in the room. *I have to attend meetings so often?* I joked.

*Well it can be extended out to 1,000 if you don’t feel the need. I recommend you come up for some training though, according to this database, you’re lacking some skills that can only be taught here.*

*What about Nigel?*

*I don’t think there’s many men on Earth or anywhere else for that matter with the mental fortitude to take what a woman can and certainly not what you can, so we seldom include them in our plans. They make good playmates. But they are fragile. Take them as they come and move on. I’m afraid there’s no other way*

*I think I may have terminated a baby a few days ago, I’m not sure what was going on but I was afraid it was a figment of Molly’s imagination.*

*Yes it was, she was going to inseminate you when she was ‘testing’ you with a version that suited her better.*

*A more subservient version?* I guessed

*Yes, then you would have been the ideal queen bee for her plans — it may have been many thousands of years before you were exhausted, but she would have had her own colony by then.*

I gulped, *Many thousands of years?*

*Yes, your lifespan is indefinite. We can renew your system by simple regeneration.
Once a lifeform passes level 3 your life is too precious to lose and you become a Leader.
Most of Humanity is level 2 some are level 1. How you got to level 7 is quite odd. I suppose that once in a while there must be a jump to the next level and sometimes one further — you seem to have jumped many levels. Your powers are barely manifesting yet. You will need a fair bit of trainng to utilize all your skills.*

*Maybe there’s a few othersof higher level you missed — but I think half the problem is that men are in charge and they keep killing off the strongest of their race by war. Is there a way to tell? If they’re above level two I mean.*

*Well get used to who you are and practice some skills and when you feel ready, pop up to your Mawllyry and we’ll meet. There’s no rush and the universe will still be there when you’re ready.*

*Thanks, Do you need anything else from me in the meantime?*

*No, we have your details and address, enjoy yourself. Goodbye for now, just call if you need something.*

I opened the silver locket, *could you take this away please, it’s a liability?*

*Drop it in the river, someone else worthy might find it in a few millennia.*

*No thanks, please remove it.* I urged.

It evaporated before my eyes, I was never so relieved.

I sat on the bed and poured myself a drink in the lounge, filled it with ice from the fridge and floated it through to the bedroom as I continued to plan my future.

I needed to increase my awareness of my locality so stretched out my thoughts and lay them like a net on the area. I watched a barbeque at the Powerhouse and a play at the Southbank Theatre 12 miles apart. I went further and watched the state premier as she fiddled with her pen trying to write a speech that didn’t include her failures —
I slipped through the hospital and watched the sick and elderly. Wondering if I should help or leave them to it.

I was Rhea, I was Gaia. The Mother of Earth and I would look after my children.
I awoke when Nigel returned from his fishing expedition.
"Darling, I’m home." He clattered into the kitchen and deposited his fishy haul on the counter.

"Hello pet", I smiled inwardly — yup ,,, my pet. Literally.

There was a lull while I switched the air con to fresh and put it on full to whisk away the smell of bait. The fish smelt lovely — fresh of the sea. Nigel not so good.

"Shower you", I wondered how long I should keep him — he was nice enough, respectable, not vicious. I pushed him towards the bathroom, Go.
I wondered if Charlotte Lucas (Pride and Prejudice) was like me — unromantic. Or I like her.

I think I should let him go. I need stronger genes than his.

Return to Sender
by Jennifer Christine
Part 7

This is the end part of the first phase - the next phase is well under way and I shall continue to post as normal

The Rise and Rise of Helen of Brisbane.

It was a few months later after I had bought the Old Governor’s Residence in Sydney that I began to be noticed — The social elite were always on the lookout for jumpups and tall poppies to put down. I kept my apartment in Brisbane just for the convenience.

I had shown myself at the Melbourne Cup and Oaks Races (Horses) and been in the Pavillion at the Test Match at the Gabba when Australia won by an innings and 300 runs against England (I wonder how that happened?).
I was seen at the prestigious gatherings all over the country.

I engineered my surroundings, I engineered my friends.
It was while I was doing this that I found myself suddenly confronted by a lovely guy who wanted me for arm candy.

Mike was a mover and shaker, he got what he wanted, whenever he wanted it. He was lovely and exciting and rich. As was I.

“May I have this dance Helen?” He suavely gathered me into his arms and set off across the dance floor, “Do you come here often?” He smiled and ignored my rolling eyes as he maneuvered me around the other couples. “I only ask because I wondered about you and no one seems to know where you came from, you just appeared”.

He looked me in the eye and I felt a prickling at the base of my neck. Not nice. It actually felt like he was trying to read my mind. I knew the feeling, it was like Molly’s old signature.

I let him see a bland and rather nice surface level that thought he was dishy and held no surprises. He continued to regard me as he swept around looking for things that might be contrary or likely to be hiding secrets. ‘There are no secrets here’, I continued to think bland thoughts with a little bit of sex on top to distract him.

When the dance was over he escorted me back to the table I was at and sat attentively as he ordered me a glass of Pinot Grigiot and gazed into my eyes.
“What an unusual woman you are, and so beautiful, where do you come from?”

“Well, I was born in Brissy and grew up there, I went to uni there and I live here and there, nothing mysterious about me at all”. I was going to give him a Jedi, ‘I am not the woman you seek.’ When I realised he might be a great lover and father to my children — he’s rich too.

Are you checking me out Mike? I smiled as I gazed into his eyes. All of a sudden I was aware that he was pressuring me mentally. Cheeky sod. I wonder if he got all the other babes into bed that way.
He leaned in for a kiss and I gave him one — I nearly gave him one round the ear with my bag, but I thought it might be a good idea to play the game. As our lips touched, I felt an even stronger wave of pressure and rogation — he was questing for my secrets big time — I supposed he must be like me but not so high up the food chain. He persisted without much luck, finding only nice thoughts.

He’d obviously got the technique weighed off, but needed contact with the victim to get information. He was a bad un!
As he tried to open my second level having found nothing at level one, he left open a tiny crack that I could squeeze into without him feeling me. I took a quick look round — high level gambler, wheeler dealer, looks like he’d latched on to a few high level people and a few low lifes — usual not so nice Robin Hood trick — rob from everyone to give to him.

I backed out quickly and let him think he was winning me over with his charms.

It actually made me feel a bit nauseous as he was being a bit over the top with his ideas for our immediate future. I was NOT going to be sucking on THAT in the near future and ‘No’ he wouldn’t be putting it there afterwards!!

While he was ‘charming’ me, I had a think about how I was going to exact a little revenge for those he had obviously misused in the past. I excused myself to go for a pee and powder my nose. I kept an eye on him with my mind net as I sat in the loo thinking. I watched as he surreptitiously dropped a little powder into my drink. *Molly, did you see that?*

*Yes Helen, it’s cocaine.*

*Would you beam it into his drink please?*

*There’s a lot in there, it may kill him.*

*Would it have killed me?*

*No, it’s just he has a lot in his system already.*

*Molly, did you notice he did a mind sweep on me?*

*No, I was otherwise engaged, I’m doing a training schedule for you.*

*Molly, concentrate, this guy is at least a level 3 I don’t want to kill him, he may be worth saving. And I don’t want him to kill me either*

*My goodness, I see what you mean, he’s giving off all sorts of vibes. He’s not able to direct it as well as you, but he’s got some power…… I don’t think he’s from Earth.* molly added a few seconds later

*Why?*

*Chromosomes are wrong.*”

*Database him and see if you can sort him out, let me know when you’ve got a handle on him — this could be a bad sign. 40,000 years with nothing and suddenly we’ve got two of us wandering around in one place. Coincidences like that are long odds.*

I went back to the table, “Sorry, bit of a queue”. I imagined a queue and chatting to some air head just as he swept my thoughts to see if I was lying.

*Molly, did you remove the cocaine?*

*Oops,* then, *…..gone now*

I sipped on the drink, “Eew this has got warm, could you get me another”. I looked at Mike’s face and he blandly turned to the passing waiter, Another for the lady.

I mentally added- and *no cocaine please*.

The new drink came. *Rohypnol added, no cocaine* Molly advised.

I looked at Mike and said, “How much did you pay him to spike my drink?”

Mike looked a bit amazed and said nothing.

“I’d have gone to bed with you…. without that incentive. But not now.” I rose to leave. I felt Mike trying to mental me into submission and let it slide off and then made it look like I was suffering from a headache. He smiled, it looked like a smile of gotcha. “C’mon, I’ll get you home”

He took my arm and pointed me towards the door; I pretended to follow his lead.
He nodded to the waiter who was obviously not one and I slipped a tag on him so Molly could follow him- *Who is he Molly?*
*General Factotum (Gopher), appears to be in Mike’s entourage.*
*Pop him with the cocaine after we leave.*

*Thanks Helen. I’m going to have to steal some from Mike, I sent the other lot down the drain*

*You mean Mike’s got more? Find it all and destroy it Helen., then empty his bank account into mine and then overnight, trash his car and apartment. I’ll dump him in a minute*

I was going to give him a break but no one does drugs on my watch. I was seriously displeased

*He’s got a lot of money Helen, 8 zeros. It’ll be traceable.*

*Disperse it to all the women in shelters and all the people who didn’t eat this morning.*

*Feed the world?* Molly queried.

*Save the Children I think*

*Consider it done.*

*Oh, he had a lot of drugs, there’s going to be some very upset people. I’m tapping the phones and his network. I’ll remove all his assets and leave the next rung up the ladder for later*

*That’s excellent.*

“Right, here we are”, the ‘waiter’ got out of the car which he’d brought round. He nodded to Mike and walked back into the car park. I saw him collapse just as we drove off. Molly had obviously given him the hit of his life.

“Let’s go to my place”, I suggested eagerly. The arrogant SOB leered at me as he leapt into the traffic.

These 7 series Beamers are quite nice. I ran my hand over the flawless leather, thinking — ‘won’t be quite so nice tomorrow. Then I’m going to destroy you’

We arrived at the block and I led him by the hand to my apartment. There was a blanket on the apartment — no signals in or out so there was no one going to trace a signal. His car had already gone off the map — he’d left it on the street as my car was in the basement allocation.
They’d find his burnt out in the dockyard tomorrow (after it had been thoroughly stripped by Molly for origin clues)

“Come in”, I smiled generously. He cradled me in his arms and kissed me, I sensed the pressure wave to undress and I started to do so. Following his directives as he sat on the bed. “There’s some good scotch on the bar”. I pointed. He smiled and walked over to the bar. I felled him there on the rug when his back was turned. I floated him onto the sofa and sat on the coffee table.

“So Moriarty, what do I do with you now?” I rubbed my hands together to warm myself — I had got a chill to the spine knowing how close one can come to being under someone else’s power.
*Any answers yet Molly?* I slung a thought skywards.

*The car was clean, he seems to be living away from his people. It’s been destroyed. I ran it into a concrete headwall in the dockyard — it caught fire. The waiter is in a serious condition, he was a liver failure candidate — it failed with the cocaine load.*

*Thought as much - leave him a long time before he gets better.*
*Sorry it’s not possible to heal him he was dying anyway this just sped it up.*

I felt guilty — I hadn’t meant to knock him off. *Oh dear.* I sent

*He’s killed before, don’t feel guilty.* I smiled at that, justice done. I didn’t mind being judge jury and executioner. It was my job.

*Thanks Molly.*

I looked at Mike, and decided to invade. I put on a cup of tea and when it was brewed I sat down opposite him. Now let’s see what little secrets you’ve got in there.

After an hour I sat back horrified. He was 245 years old and had come from a system several light years from ours — a name that meant nothing to me but was in the direction of Casseopia.
He’d been here 50 years and amassed a good deal of capital — which was no longer there.
He’d killed several hundred people in his quest for power.
He’d raped several thousand women using drugs and mental pressure.
He was here on his own behalf — and alone.
He was about to die……. I had made my own decision on that

I woke him up. “Mike darling, if you’re not going to be a man, would you do me a favour and go home.”

He looked at me with bloodshot eyes and wondered I what the hell was going on, he felt awful — worse than at any time in his life. He tried to rise to his feet and slumped back.
“God I feel awful.”

“Serves you right, you alien toerag. Time you got your wages of sin.”

He looked at me, “You know, you know who I am?” He looked puzzled, and a little guilty.

I smiled back at him — a touch angry that I’d let my own anger show. “You mustn’t go round killing the natives dear, they’re not yours”. I admonished. “Now out you go”

“I thought there was something odd about you when I danced with you, normally when I command the effect is instant. It was too slow, I just thought you were a bit more relaxed and that was why. Where are you from? We could make a great team” He tried to get conversational to see if he could distract me. Then I felt a sudden pressure wave of him trying to get at me, trying to strike me down, the strongest he’d tried. Was this as strong as he could do?

I sent him one back and he danced in the moonlight. Like a marionette. He looked at me as I floated him to the ceiling and spun him round and then dropped him on his feet again. The look of fear and realization too hard to mistake.

*Too strong for you little boy*.
“Off you go pet and don’t come back” — I wiped his memory of me and sent him on his way. He walked out to where his car had been and looked around — then he took out his phone and presently a Camaro came round the corner and burbled it’s little 5 litre song at him as he got in.

*Keep me up to date Molly.*

*Will do Helen, goodnight.*

I woke about 9am and stepped with my first coffee onto the balcony. I listened to the news but I guess it was too soon.

*Good morning Helen, just thought I’d let you know that when Mike got home last night, he got a phone call from the drug dealers asking where the stash had gone. They’d gone to refill and drop off the money and there was nothing — not a nickel bag. It’s up here in the cool room — well it’s up here in the Mare Ibrium actually*

*Thanks Molly*

*The police are a bit sus about you though, as they’ve been watching Mike for a while and he was in your apartment for less time than usual for a mark!*

*So what does that mean?*

* He usually stays the night.* I could hear Molly smile. If a computer can smile.

*Ah, news just coming through. Mike’s at an ATM and he can’t get any money out.*

*He hasn’t got any has he?*

*Not that I know of. Except what he collected last night but his lackeys still have that — it can’t go directly to him, it has to be laundered or he’ll have to take the fall. He’ll have to go on line to find out that his accounts are empty*

*Ah yes, the same way you emptied them. How many transactions did you make from his account last night?*

*Just one, to the Bank of Zambia. where it accumulated with the scammed money and was then dispersed to villages in the Congo and women shelters in all the major cities in USA and Europe. Only the Bank of Zambia isn’t suspicious of that many transactions….*

*Oh, I also paid his back taxes for the last ten years.* Molly was so close to giggling.

*I’m off for a shower, I’d like to go down to the dockyard later.* I giggled.

The next I heard was on the news that evening. About the waiter who had died of an overdose in the car park. Mike had been interviewed but released as he was the last person to see him before he collapsed. Police would also like to speak to the lady who was seen leaving with him.

I phoned the police — they must have known it was me, as they’d observed him going to my place. Presumably it was a test to see if I was in collusion.

“Good evening Miss Cartwright, please come this way.” He walked just off my forequarter leading me deeper into the police station.

“Could you go over your actions last night please?” I was asked to make my statement for the tape recorder (they won’t be able to play it back — it’s going to wipe itself.)

“Well, we left the Club last night, I’ve no idea what time and went back to my place and he stayed about  ½ an hour. Then left as he was too drunk to function and was embarrassed about it. I watched him from the apartment — it’s odd, as his car was not where he left it, I saw him use his phone and presently a green sports coupe picked him up. That’s the last I saw of him.”

“Where was the car when you left the club?”

“A little guy in a white jacket had gone to get it, I think he was a hotel employee — he looked like one.. he brought it round to the front for us.” I tried to be explicit and keep to the facts — I wanted no suspicion to rest on me.

“What happened when you got home?”

“We went in and — hey, hang on, are you getting jollies out of this?” I gave him the frown.

The inspector tried to be officious, “We’re just tying up loose ends miss”.

“The loose end surely finished when the little guy gave us the car at the front door, no?”

“No ma’am we’re not only enquiring about that, we’re also enquiring about the death of Mike Strong.”

The surprised look on my face was enough to tell the police that I wasn’t party to that info.

“When, how? What happened?”

“He was found shot this afternoon in the dockyard, he’d gone to identify his car. Whoever took it must’ve been waiting for him.
You wouldn’t know anything about a little missing money would you?
Money? No, … how much?” I wondered if his wallet got nicked as well as his worldly accumulated assets.

“Someone emptied his bank accounts last night, a lot of zeros” — he died penniless.

Not much to show for 245 years work I thought….

The police let me go after I showed them my bank account online statement; showing no transactions for the last week or so. Not any 950 million dollar ones anyway. I think it was nice that my current account was only showing a few hundred thousand. My big accounts were all offshore.

‘RIP, Mike you thug’, I thought as I slipped into the traffic, which always drove very sedately outside the police station.

*Molly, how did you shoot him?* I thought she must have beamed a bullet at him — clever.

*I didn’t, someone who wanted to be paid for his drugs did when he realised that our dear departed was without funds.*

*You’re enjoying this..* it was a statement.

*I never enjoy people dying- especially level 3 people, but if you abuse the talent, then you suffer the consequences.*

I was glad Molly was on my side … now.

*Molly, I need a better history, he was able to trace I didn’t exist before recently.”*

*I’m on it Helen.*

Three months and I still didn’t have a person who I wanted to share my life with.
Three months…. Why was I rushing? I didn’t need a consort for 50 years and even that wouldn’t really be a long time.

I really needed something to occupy my life — I buckled down to my learning and also joined a gym and some social networks that included people with clout.
Every so often I popped up for an overnight with Molly, it felt good to get away for the evening but I had to be careful my absence wasn’t noticed.

One of the social networks was a political party.
I knew that if I joined a political party as a candidate, I would be visible forever and not just at functions.. The paparazzi followed you everywhere and tried to hack your life. I wasn’t ready for some poor sap to find in fifty years after he’d spent his life following my career that I was still 24. But I could play marionettes couldn’t I?

I needed to create a Utopia that could house my children and my children’s children for a hundred generations. To help them bring all this good green Earth and its people to a new destiny.

Australia is a wonderful country with a resource level that far outweighs its population. Australia could be self sufficient and very comfortable for all it’s people.

The new Hellenic Republic. Yes, I liked that. A truly free society.

In University one finds a lot of idealists and youthful zealots. I needed to nurture a few of them into a neat political front and then supply them with the fundamentals of a new world.
I also needed — children.
“Molly, can I guarantee twins form my first babies?”

“Triplets if you like, but they’re awfully tiring to carry to term. You won’t get stretch marks though.” She added with a pseudo laugh.

“Can they be delivered by you Molly? If I come up to the site” I didn’t want Molly to beam them out of my womb from 350,00 kilometres away — that would be too weird.

“I would expect nothing less Helen, the medical care on your world is what I would call a trifle primitive.” I could sense the tongue in cheek quip, but I had already distanced myself from the rest of humanity in some ways.

I’d actually come to that a week or two ago when I’d cut myself chopping veggies. I’d taken a chunk off the side of my knuckle and it stung like crazy for a second.
I dug the chipped off flesh out of the Bok Choy and placed it back on the cut. I held it there for a few seconds then took a look. My finger was whole again, with a little blood round the edge. I thought it had just stuck there as sometimes happens, but when I carefully dabbed away the blood, there was no sign of the cut.

“Did you do that Molly”

“No, it was all your own work.” I felt the smile. “You’re learning.”

I was beginning to believe in myself on a whole new different level.

To Be Continued

Return to Sender
by Jennifer Christine
Part 8

Moving on - Phase 2

The papers announced the war in Afghanistan was reaching a conclusion but also a stalemate.
It would be many years before the government could operate without the backing of the Western Allies and Pakistan was actually going downhill and creating a lot of mayhem.

*Molly, what would happen if I destroyed all the opium crops in Afghanistan?*

*The Taliban would have no funds and collapse is the most likely scenario. Sadly a lot of population would die of starvation too. They rely on the crop for cash.*

*What if the crops failed 50% every year? So that after about 5 years, there’d be virtually none left? 100 tons crop now would be less than half a ton. It would give the farmers time to revert to food crops?*

*I think the Taliban would get desperate and either go for broke or disband. I can accomplish the downturn by genetically altering the pollen.*

*Could you also make it less potent?*

*Easily.*

*Make it so Molly. Let me know if the Taliban want to break out, I’ll do some sorting on a physical level. Seems only fair.*

I took to normal student life after a while, I was still a student and I needed to be seen as a normal person. I wanted to start making inroads into crime in my beautiful city and I wanted to see people once again unafraid to walk around after dark.
I started a zero tolerance mind swipe.
I sat one day in a bistro — one where the tables fronted the roadside. I watched the myriad people going about their daily lives and picked at random one or two to see what the average was like.
I was pleasantly surprised to see the great majority were just everyday citizens doing good things, thinking about their families, their work, and sometimes their partners!!! I felt a little pervy more than once!

Every so often I’d come up with a wild card. One was a wife beater. I could sense so much anger and immense fear. I nipped a link here and there and isolated the problem in his head. He walked on looking mesmerized for a second then smiling.

*Is it really so easy to fix some of these things Molly?*

*No Helen, it just reconnects later and carries on. I spent a lot of years before you came on the scene doing just what you did and then watching for a result. It always resurfaced, like it’s a basic flaw in the mental system or imbalance in the endocrine system.*

*What about Rock Spiders (child molesters)? Are they fixable?*

*Yes, they are, but only by a combination of mental adjustment as you did on the wife beater and realigning their sex drive.*

*How do you do that?*

*Remove their nuts.* Molly stated briefly.

*I can do one, will you do the other?*

*What a team, I think that’s admirable. I shall cut off blood supply to the testes of all the perverts you discover.*

*So what do we do with the wife beaters?* I wondered.

*Check their insurance and delete them.* came the simple reply.* They’re not good for the gene pool anyway.*

I thought about it for a moment and giggled, seemed an excellent way to ensure that the wife got repayment for disservices rendered.

“Penny for them,” the waiter smiled as he passed me, picking up the giggle.

“Oh I was just thinking of a way to serve justice and the result was amusing.” I looked at him, Greek heritage, big smile, nice body, my age.

“I see you here occasionally..” he paused, “and you always seem to be alone.” He stopped and leaned on the chair opposite me.

“I think a lot and I do it best alone.” I blushed as he stood back up looking a little discomfited. “I’m not asking you to leave, it’s just an observation.” I smiled as he leaned on the chair again.

“You have no good friend who can share your thoughts and not disturb you?” His eyes mocked me slightly. I snuck a peek into his top layer. Mmm nice.

“No, not really, I’ve grown up a bit faster than my peers and they’re struggling in my wake.” I raised an eyebrow and watched his face. It was hard to tell he was undressing me with his eyes, but his top layer suggested he was occupied doing that very thing..

“I’m willing to sit with you and say nothing if you don’t mind me watching your face, it’s an easy thing to do, and I promise not to get caught in your wake.”

“I think you might get the sack if you sat around and did nothing while you were supposed to be waiting table.”

“It is ok, the Café is mine, I work when I feel like it and it gives me an excuse to talk to beautiful women.” He smiled and his face lit up — there was no craft, he was just a nice amusing guy. “There are plenty of waiters doing nothing today, I am paying them, they can take over my difficult work.” He waved to another young man dressed as he was and made a circle with his hand and sat down. “You don’t mind?”

I smiled back, “I’m delighted.”

“Then, shall I sit here and admire the view or would you like to tell me why you watch everyone as they pass?” His smile betrayed his suspicious eyes.

“I’m assessing each person as to their fitness to live in my beautiful city. Most are nice people but some are not.”

“Is it your job to assess these people? Or do you do it as a hobby?” He was joking but had hit the nail on the head.

“It is my job. I need to understand the motivation of my society, whether it needs to be sorted or left to improve on its own.” I was joking with him but had a subtle truth to my line.

“You take on a large task. Should it be left to one so beautiful?”

“I am not beautiful, I am barely pretty. It is nice of you to be so gallant though.”

“With eyes so clear and unashamed, with a mind so clean of the impurities of the world, how can you not be beautiful?” He was laying it on thick now. I knew he wasn’t peeking, but it was uncannily correct.

“And what do you know of my mind?” I queried, knowing he knew nothing but what he had guessed from my demeanour.

“I am a student of the people myself, and I can see you are not tarnished by the mundane and the impure. I would like to know you more.”

There was no doubt that he was smooth, but it was also true that he was not a bad person. I had looked and I had seen only calm blue water and a sail boat, soft sunlight and sparkling bubbles in a cold glass.

“You shall then.” I had found someone.

I sat for a while longer as he watched me and I watched those passing and did my job.
I hadn’t the heart to delete anyone with my knight in starched white apron sat by me, but I marked one or two for Molly to deal with. They would trouble no more children and have no more either.

“Well Alberto, what time will you escort me home?”
“You know my name?” he looked shocked.

“It is written on the front of the building, perhaps you think I am blinded by your handsome face?”

“It is also written on my name badge, but it is not on my shirt. I wondered if you had read my mind.”

“Only to find out if you were a nice guy, I wouldn’t have talked with you if you weren’t.”
I teased him, though it was perhaps a dangerous game to tread so close to the truth.

“What time would you like to be home? Or perhaps I should ask whose home, yours or mine?”

“What would your wife say?” I smiled, pretending not to know he wasn’t married.

“Ah she will be mortified if I take you to my home, but she will be happy that her husband has found a friend.” He continued.

“Greek men wear a ring when they marry, dear Alberto, you have no such ring.”

“Health and safety regulations do not allow me to wear jewelry at work, so I have to remove it.”

“There is also no shadow to say you have worn one.” I pointed to his ring finger.

“Which shows how many hours I must work to keep my five children fed.” He smiled more and more with each riposte.

“I shall take you to my home then and your wife shall not be troubled by the thought of your infidelity…imaginary or not” I added quickly as I rose and gathered my things. “But I shall not pay you for my coffee, because you do not deserve payment for such dishonest work.”

Alberto signaled to the cashier and made to tear up an imaginary bill and turned to me.
“Whither maiden? Your chariot or mine?”

We walked out to the curb and I pointed to my car which was parked a few yards away. “Ah, right next to mine,” he pointed to the little red job with a rampant horse on the front.
He walked to the door of his car and opened it for me.

It was about 2 inches from the floor and I was wearing a fairly short skirt, “Follow me Alberto, I shall try not to drive too fast. One horse on the bonnet does not seem nearly enough.”

“Ah, he is just my favourite; there are 500 more hiding under the bonnet.” I giggled and slipped into the Merc, a much more suitable car for a princess. Unless you’re in a French tunnel I thought to myself..

The afternoon turned into a delightful evening and my beautiful escort serviced me ably and enthusiastically. We ordered a meal from a local hostelry which was delivered to the apartment and we ate overlooking the River and the lights of the city.

“You are not old Alberto. How did you come to be such a well heeled Barista?”

“My family, they are still in Greece, but they are not poor farmers, they are an old family with their fingers in many pies.” He answered simply. “I might ask you the same question, Helen. This is not a home to which many would become acquainted?” the inflection made it a question.

“I was given the property and a stipend by a grateful lover,” I smiled, “I do not need any Drachma though so you may relax.” He smiled with me and looked out over the water.

“You tell me you are at University and yet you do not study?” Another question.

“I am very intelligent, I will attend the lectures and read from my computer. It is enough.”

Alberto laughed and took a long quaff of the wine he held. “You are intelligent, yet you take me to your bed, I think some may argue one point or another”.

“Do not put yourself down, and do not assume to put me down. I am my own person, there is no harm in a dalliance, I am not about to fall in love. Nice as you are.” Alberto looked a little hurt and frowned. Then waggled his head and smiled.

“You are going to be a hard nut to crack, how am I to enjoy myself if I cannot dominate you?” He took another pull on his wine, put the glass down and took my hand gently. “I think I shall have to try harder to make you love me.” I could tell by the bulge in his robe that he was about to do so. We retired to the boudoir and rumpled some more sheets.

Our dalliance lasted a while and when I told Alberto I was pregnant, he smiled and gently disengaged himself from me, like a good lover should. He did not offer to pay nor did he offer to marry me. I was grateful. I had what I wanted and he had what he desired. I could not have engineered it better.

All the time I had been with Alberto I had been spending time training my mind and my skills improved. I felt quite potent and yet quite vulnerable — I still had to sleep and until or unless I engaged some heavy security which would only attract attention, I had to rely on Molly who was so far away and a concierge when I was home and my own awareness when I wasn’t. If I was in Sydney, I had some security, but I was only there in the high seasons when ‘school’ was out.

I was also now a pregnant student and the dean was not amused though why he thought he had any say in the matter I cannot imagine.

I got a note one day asking that I meet with him.

“Miss Cartwright?” He stuck out his hand in a friendly gesture that was not reflected in his eyes. I simply sat down and ignored it.

“Good afternoon Dean Squires, you asked to see me?” I went straight into it because I knew what was coming.

“Yes, quite. I asked you here today to enquire what your intentions are in relation to your education.” He was being quite openly hostile.

“And?” I raised one eyebrow, it was enough for him to understand that he was going to have to spell it out.

“Well, the heart of the matter is, you still have 2 years to go with your studies and it appears that your ‘condition’ may well interfere with your attendance to lectures in the near future.” He was being tactful at least.

“I don’t see me taking much time off Dean, “The babies are due (TWINS!!!!) in a recess, so I will be able to continue without interruption.” I smiled at him, daring him to make any mention of reputation. I didn’t have a tape recorder running, but Molly would be able to reconstruct the interview perfectly well if I wanted to pursue the matter — which I would.

“The matter is this.. Miss.. Cartwright,” he emphasized the Miss part. My eyes pinned him. He looked at me, saw I was carrying no obvious recorder — I didn’t even have a bag with me and I had a lightweight pair of shorts and a stretchy tank top over my bulge.
“The board of governors do not like the thought of a student of this university to be in your condition, it doesn’t have a good aspect for the university and sets a bad precedent and role model for other students.”

“You mention the board of governors, how do you feel about it, Dean?” I smiled at him neither shocked in the least nor feeling abashed or ashamed at my ‘condition’.

“My condition is what every woman on Earth goes through at some time in their lives and my most healthy period and best for my babies is while I am young. Would you deny my children the best chance for health?”

“No Miss Cartwright, but I think that you should consider the good of the university and retire from your studies while you are ‘incapacitated’” The Dean looked like he was trying to get unstuck from some chewing gum.

“Dean, I serve you warning, you have committed several infractions of my personal freedoms and have overstepped your mandate. Please note that I shall take this further. Much further.” I rose and walked out of the room. I said no more. The Dean sat there in a turmoil — he knew he’d overstepped the mark but did I have proof? What would happen?

I sent him a letter next day with a small cassette of our conversation, cced to the Board of Governors and the Education Authority and the press.

He resigned. I claimed damages and donated them to the women’s refuge. $50,000 dollars was gratefully received. I had decided to make an issue, and the name of Helen C started to become known.

I received a grateful response to my donation and a bit of notoriety in the University. I was allowed to continue my studies undisturbed. The press became aware of me as a champion for women’s causes, and being wealthy I came under scrutiny of other charitable organizations as a possible benefactor.

My social circle in Sydney were mostly appalled that I was pregnant. Some dropped me as a friend — some allowed that I was my own boss and some simply loved the idea of cocking-a-snook at the establishment. I was becoming notorious.

I sat on my balcony one night and felt my babies kick and I also felt something else. An untrained thought. I stroked my baby metaphorically and he relaxed.
*Molly, he kicked, and then he thought at me*

*Now you must name them.* Molly knew almost the day I got pregnant that I had one boy and one girl and told me that they were non identical and different genders . She hadn’t told me anything except that. I had no idea what the likelihood of their being able to reach me from the womb or anything.

*I didn’t expect them to be able to think so loud, so soon.* I was a bit panicked — *They may start communicating with either each other or people outside the womb that weren’t their mother.*

*No Helen, they can only communicate with you and each other, they will learn quickly not to think out loud so to speak.*

*Will I be able to hear them talk to each other or can they do it without me in the loop?*
I was worried about them making their own language or something I guess. Plotting maybe?

*That’s a paranoid thought, Helen. They’re innocent babies — not psychopathic midgets.* I could sense a grin and a chiding from Molly.

*I’m just a little afraid Molly, that’s all. I’ve never been Eve before.*

I turned off the lights, pretended to go to bed and went up to the ship.

Return to Sender
by Jennifer Christine
Part 9

“Hi Molly,” I stepped off the plate and walked straight to the dining mess. The furniture had been updated to some soft leather sofas and a beautiful claw and ball Victorian mahogany table with six chairs. The furniture shop I bought it from must have been quite puzzled when they came in one morning and the table was gone but the correct purchase price was attached to the dispatch clerk’s desk along with a thank you note.

When I was here I could offload all my worries, it was my own secret hideaway. With my own secret confidante.

I stepped up to the food dispenser and it opened without my even thinking to reveal a bowl of vanilla ice cream and mango ice.

“Thanks Molly” I smiled at the closest CC camera, “You know what I like.”

“I certainly do, Ollie.”

“Tell me, if I think at my babies, can I train them before they are born?”

“Not really, they have no frame of reference, but they’ll be very bright when they arrive and will pick things up incredibly quickly.”

“Is that a good thing though, I’m not sure I want them levitating their bottles when we’re out shopping.” I dreaded it more like.

“Then tell them not to, they’ll understand a lot quicker that they’re unique if you spend some time laying out their situation.”

“Won’t they be babies and do things for the hell of it?”

“They’ll be up here fairly soon and I’ll tell them then.
I can sense them listening to us mentally, it’s a good sign.
Have you decided their names yet?”

“I was going to go with Athena and Hermes, but I think it’s a bit pretentious. Ruth and Paul seem fair enough and they can’t be shortened,. They have historical significance and are names that can be revered in future societies”

“Ruth and Paul it is.” Molly was happy to accede, the names were placed at the top of the list in the new database. The database covered the names, heredity, talents, skills. Education.

In a few thousand years they would be important documents. They would prevent close relationships and allow for diversification.

“Show me the moon surface, Molly. I want to feel awed by it all. Sitting here I might as well be in St Pancras Station in London Underground.”

“Do they have such leather sofas in a station there?” Molly feigned ignorance.

“No, but they don’t have windows either.” Helen smiled.

The moon was new, so the surface was lit only by the reflection from the Earth.
It was dark and gloomy on the screens, the shadows non existent, piles of cocaine sat close by, and some car parts.

“Molly, could you beam that junk into space as dispersed molecules, they don’t look good there. I don’t want this area to look like a junkyard nor be scanned by a passing lunar orbiter and become a source of conjecture. At least bury the stuff.”
As she watched, the car parts disintegrated and became just particles of whatever it was — mostly plastic. The white mounds of powder which amounted to a few tonnes, seem to disappear but were in fact pushed downwards into the surface and dust seeped over them.”

“Have we made any impression on illicit drugs yet?”

“No, but the price is rising and the cartels are getting anxious — they don’t know who is taking it and are worried about it getting on the market all at once. Other crimes are taking their place, but not so much outside the countries of origin.”

“When you see an opening, please feel free to release captives and slaves from these people and maybe detox the call girls who have been hooked by it.
Start in the ghettoes of south America and spread it out — I want to hear of the dealers and pushers in the slums being emasculated and shot. Disappear a few of the middle managers. Put some fear into them.”

I went to bed and Molly set about freeing some slaves and giving them back their lives.
When I awoke and had done my toilet I asked what Molly had been up to overnight.

“I opened up the Baria in Rio De Janeiro. There’s been wholesale slaughter of the drug cartel underlings by freed slaves.”

“How much risk was there in freeing them?”

“None at all, I just altered the composition of the manacles in one or two key places and damaged a few locks. Ten people in all and the rest was self initiating.”

“They were ready for it then. They must have sensed a change.”

“They did after I told them.” Molly seemed to smile.

“You didn’t do the voice of God did you? Molly, tell me you didn’t — oh dear.”

“No, I just whispered, ‘it is time’ to each of them and loosened their manacles.”

“That’s just as bad. Molly please don’t do that, it’s going to be years before I can derig the God thing.”

“Why would you want to?” Molly couldn’t see the objection.

“I’ll be burnt at the stake as a heretic if you do that, they have a jealous God — it is their conscience. — and the Pope will wind em up like evangelists.”

“Oh ok, —won’t happen again, I’ll tell them ‘Helen says it is time’, that will work. Molly lapsed into silence.

“I think you might have to leave the situation to me. I’ll let you work out the logistics and I’ll do the word of God thing. In a few years. I’ve still got a few children to raise in the meantime.”

I walked back to the plate and Molly sent me home.

I didn’t use Alberto’s for my observation post now; I decided to sit in the airport for a few days and see what came and went.
Over a period of several days, I tagged 40 drug runners whose drugs turned to milk powder — mostly mules and three of their herders, who I tagged for Molly to remove. Several returning sex offenders that found themselves neutered — well they will…. And a few wife beaters. Tagged for minor adjustment — read hormone therapy to reduce their testosterone levels.

I wasn’t in the hub of the airport — it would be too conspicuous, it already seemed I was being watched as the CCTV cameras paused on me once or twice.

Once I was approached by a security guard and asked what I was doing there, I showed them my student pass and told them I was taking psychology and was observing how people reacted to unusual situations — most people were not regular travelers and were unfamiliar with airport protocols. He went away after talking on his walkie talkie.

I decided discretion being the better part of valour to change my venue.

One thing that did happen was the Sunday newspapers reported a drop in trafficking offences and a drop in burglaries. That gave me cause to ponder.

I decided to check out the highest drug related crime areas and the highest burglary areas — they were the same. Usually slightly depressed areas with a youngish population.
I staked out the high street in several suburbs and every time I came across a drug addict (when you looked at that first layer, it was easy to spot — like a neon sign!) And alerted Molly who beamed all the drugs out of their systems — quite a few keeled over (I alerted the ambulance then), but not a few suddenly looked like they’d been slugged and sat down and wept like they’d been given a reprieve. The crime rate went down to the lowest recorded for several years.
I felt I was making a difference.

I have to admit at this point to a mysterious problem that got into the speed cameras in the area too — someone wiped all the data. Then when they kept fixing the cameras, Molly stole them. It’s easy to remove the contents when you don’t have to open the box.
They started fitting secret cameras to take photos of the cameras to see who was doing it. Those went too. Eventually they just pretended to have the cameras, they couldn’t replace them fast enough. The press didn’t get hold of it for a while but eventually they did and I had to cease operations. The cameras worked just by being there — if they were known not to — then what’s thepoint?

My term was nearly up so I told my concierge I was going on holiday to Switzerland to have my babies where the air was a bit cleaner (it’s not true but the concierge didn’t need to know my whereabouts). I left a contact number but no address. The area code for the moon? Not telling.

Molly beamed me up and gave me a checkup, “Three days and you’re ready to pop.”

“I’m already ready to pop — these twins are huge. They’re also calling out. I get a spike every few hours. I just tell them, not yet and they go back to sleep. They’re going to be good babies aren’t they?” I truly hoped so, a year or so ago I’d have been a bit surprised to know I was going to be the mummy, not the archeologist.

While I was up here I started a plan to rid the world of crime cartels. I asked Molly to search all the internet and pinpoint major links and any peripheral ones that the police were involved with.

American police seem to be quite open to a back hander but were generally ok — the Asian police particularly in places with high penalties for drugs seemed to be the most corrupt. I think they should be first to find out what the problem was with drug running.

“Molly, keep an eye on Singapore, Malaya, Indonesia and Thailand. I want any drugs there to be neutralized or removed or used to mess up the dealers. The Burmese golden triangle I want shut down completely. Delete the top and middle — rehabilitate the bottom if you can — I’ll do what I can later if I am needed to.

“Over how long a period, this involves nearly the whole chain of command”

“Well that’ll give Aung Sang Su Chi a chance to get her country going properly again.

“While you’re at it, can you knock off Kim Jong Il he’s pretty close to karking it isn’t he?”

“Very, he’s been dead for a fortnight, they don’t dare tell anyone!”

“I reckon you should leak it then.”

“Right Helen — big sweep while you’re up here for a week or two?”

“Sounds good, I can keep a good eye open from up here.”

“Alert, a Chinese Orbiter just passed over us. I jammed the signal as it was doing a photo run.

“Good job we hid the BMW parts then! They would be up here trying to mine them next week.”

“How visible are we?”

“Well covered, but if they do a magnetograph they’ll get an anomaly. I am going to dump it.”

“I think just change the data if there’s bad stuff there. It’s too suspicious if we just zap it. When does it relay any information?”

“It’s doing it continuously about 5 minute lag.”

“Trip the connection and down the satellite on the dark side.”

“Will do. Now where were we? Ah yes, debugging the drug system.”

“Leave it for now, I’m feeling a bit uncomfortable and my back is sore — and I’m hungry and I need a pee.”

“I’m glad I can’t gestate, it seems very inefficient.”

“You’d die from lube oil loss, the sharp corners would tear you to ribbons….” I giggled and settled down to watch a movie. There is nothing better than watching a good old fashioned BBC drama. I chose the Pride and Prejudice TV series and was soon nodding off to D’Arcy being very ungentlemanlike..

“Helen, I think you need to see this.”

I blinked my eyes as I came round and the lights which Molly had dimmed resumed their daylight setting. “What’s the problem?”

“The Junta in Burma are trying to suppress the uprising that started after the Golden Triangle Triad accused the Junta of killing the drug lords and stealing the proceeds.”

I sat there for a minute, “Are you telling me there’s an army left in there who can still control anything? I’m surprised.”

“Well I’ve got three alternatives, stop the Junta stop the people or declare you the new head of state.”

“Kill all the ammunition, and put some knockout drops into the water. It’ll allow the tempers to subside. You could also knockout gas the main squares wherever there’s a demo going on. Make sure you get both sides. Then there’s no blame.

“Some of the adjoining powers are warming up to Amber Alert.” Molly sounded a bit tense.

“Any Nuclear stuff?”

“Some, North Korea is a bit jumpy for some reason, probably because of the drugs going walkabout.”

“Can you disable the missiles so they won’t take off?” Just maybe melt down inside the bunkers?”

“I could beam up the warheads or the contents.” Molly advanced an idea.

“No, there’d be blame resting there, if the missiles never leave the ground, the situation can’t be escalated.” I dismissed the strategy. “If a missile leaves the ground, there’d be Japanese and USA and Korea all going to DefCon1. If all that happens is a silo full of smoke and no missile they’ll just be a laughing stock. Make sure that Allied missiles are not able to go to red alert”

I watched the news with some pain — hand to hand fighting had broken out in Burma. Order was restored when Aung Sang Su Chi declared that the country was now under her control.

The army was stood down and police along with a volunteer each were patrolling the streets to stop looters. Secret police had been arrested and political prisoners had been freed.
The Worlds media were in a frenzy. Word had got out that no weapons were usable in Burma. They just didn’t work.

Kim Jong Il’s demise was made public just as I went into labour.

I lost interest about that point. Though it was fun to put the cat among the pigeons and a lot of countries were starting to pray as if it was the ‘End of Days’. Not what I was after, but quite an effective dampener. At least until I was back in the swing of things.
Molly had me lie on a gurney in the medical bay and a couple of medibots hovered over me. I felt very lonely. When all was ready and I felt almost panicky due to no one being here for my birthing, Molly pulled the plug and delivered my babies by local transporter beam. She had put me out just before she started and woken me up a few minutes later.

“All done, no complications. Not that I expected any of course.” Molly sounded a bit chipper.

I was aware of two mental spikes that squeaked at me from the incubator next to me.

“Don’t try to get up yet Helen, there’s a bit of work still to do on you.” Molly tempered my enthusiasm. “Your waters haven’t even broken yet and you’ve got two placentas to get rid of”. I looked down and my tummy was still distended —

“Don’t tell me there’s more in there?”

“Of course not, but the womb lining and stuff take up a lot of space too.” I did feel lighter, which was good, I’d just got rid of 15 lbs of babies.

“My babies need me,” I leaned towards them as they lay next to me in the incubator, they were quiet and taking in all the surroundings. Like wizened little old men. Totally naked but wise as ancient Gods. “Oh, they seem to be quite content.”

I could feel the mini-transporter taking away my now unneeded paraphernalia and the feeling was like having my temples massaged — it was beautiful and very relaxing.

“All done, you may gently see to your babies now Helen, congratulations,” Molly sounded very sincere.

“Thank you Molly for making it such a nice experience. I’m sure my children will enjoy having their children at this wonderful hospital.”

I gently sat up and felt really good, “Wow, that’s a wonderful way to have babies.” I suddenly burst into tears. Whoa! Emotional time I guess. Having your babies alone on a dead moon was pretty wicked.

I looked into the eyes of my babies, *Hello little ones* I caressed them with my mind and they gurgled as I opened the cover, wrapped them and picked them up. The spikes of alarm and unfamiliarity they were giving off subsided quickly and they regarded me with big round eyes. *I’m your mummy* I sent them love and warmth and they returned it.

The bot that had sat at the side of the bed suddenly whirred to life and offered me two bottles from a tray that appeared out of its side. “This solution contains the antibodies normally found in the initial breast milk, your own milk will come in in the next few hours, suckling will help it to drop.” The bot advised in a toneless Hawking way.

I offered the bottles to the babies and they settled quickly sucking away — then falling asleep.

“They’ll need changing in the next hour.” Molly advised. “Put them back in the cot when you’re tired of holding them, and it will be done automatically.”

“You think of everything,” I placed the babies back in their secure environment and slipped into an exhausted sleep — I’ve no idea how normal women manage to do this without help like I had.

Return to Sender
by Jennifer Christine
Part 10

A slightly longer chapter for Christmas. Hope you all have a good Christmas.

When I woke I moved the cot and babies through to the bedroom, Paul awoke and I felt a mental nudge for food. Though how I knew it was food I have no idea. The bot had come in with the cot but I offered Paul my breast and he settled down on that giving me the most amazing high I had ever had. It wasn’t erotic, but it was very fulfilling and for Paul it was filling full. Just as I finished with Paul, Ruth asked for a go and I swapped them over.
The bot changed Paul as I fed Ruth. *Thank you bot.* I thought and the bot beeped at me. I passed Ruth back in and bot changed her too — we all went back to sleep!

It continued the same way for a wee while; I used my thoughts to ‘talk’ to the babies and the two signals food and sleep became several more as they became more aware of the surroundings and the presence of other ‘minds’.

I moved the babies around with me for a while to the kitchen and back and to the bathroom — but after a day or two I left them where they were and tried to use the facilities while they were asleep. They must have been aware of my proximity as they were alarmed the second I was out of their immediate vicinity. I had a lot of excess fluid to get rid of so I was forever in the loo and they were forever worried I wouldn’t be back in ten seconds. We got used to it quickly.

“Molly, what am I going to do when we get Earthside, I can’t take them everywhere with me.”

I’ll send a bot down with you to keep them company at night, but you’ll have to be with them the rest of the time. At least for the first two years.” Molly sniggered.

“Would a bot be a good idea? If someone visited, it would be a little odd having a minirobot changing the kids and feeding them…”

“It will look like a bit of furniture and won’t be obtrusive. The children will know not to sound out mentally in a few weeks. They’ll just do it when you are alone. They already know the difference. Though they don’t know there’s no others like them. I expect they’ll scare a few other babies when they’re out in their push chairs — you know — doing the *Hi, my name’s Paul* at them — they’ll freak!” Molly chuckled and I got very alarmed at the thought of them thinking hellos at other children and getting a bad reaction from other mothers.

Being home alone wouldn’t be a problem unless someone tried to break in — there’d be a very alarmed burglar.

It was 10 days when Ruth sent a coherent message at me, I’d been talking and thinking to them; telling them stories and the usual baby talk stuff.

*mum, cuddle* I heard, and tears sprang to my eyes, my baby’s first thoughts….I started to giggle and become a little hysterical bouncing Ruth gently *who’s my clever girl then?* I smiled at her and held her close and rubbed her soft face on mine. The electricity of it was amazing — the skin to skin contact of our heads was like a mental link. I felt like I was downloading info. *Nice cuddle mummy. Soft face* I looked her in the eye we smiled at each other. These children would be hard to put into a school. There would be little they could learn.

*Me now mummy.* Paul waggled his arms. Physically still unable to coordinate them but mentally able to think coherent thouhgts. The next year would be frustrating for them I guessed.

Until Paul levitated off the bed towards me. Whoa… I suddenly had two babies in my arms.* Steady on you two, learn to walk before you fly.* Both chortled and beamed at me. I could see this was going to be very tiring.

By the end of week two the babies were sitting up using levitation because their little muscles weren’t strong enough to support them. And watching the news. They didn’t understand much but they got some sense of it and I gave them insights into what was going on, most of which still went over their heads. I guessed their IQs at about 300.

The drug crops were failing all over the world and only legitimate growers were able to produce enough for legal services. They had to employ a lot of guards but that wasn’t a problem — there was so much more money available in the market that it wasn’t hard to raise everyone’s wages.

There had been a lot of deaths, several hundred thousand had died — all but a few were bad people. The others, unlucky to have been caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. I felt wracked by guilt and my head spun with the responsibility of the situation I’d precipitated Many drug cartels had fought with the others, suspecting them of theft of their goods and carnage had ensued. The Afghanies were planting vegetable crops instead of opium poppies because there were no opium seeds for most of the farmers. The Taliban were withdrawing to lick their wounds — they had no resources now that the drugs were no longer flowing. Guns and ammunition were not only scarce but also reason to plunge a knife into the odd back — internal strife was beginning to tear them apart
This was a fact of life and whilst I still felt guilt, I also felt that I’d rather they stabbed each other than a lawful protector of the people.

The American army could go home. The Afghani women were freed from bondage because the Taliban could no longer force their twisted values on them. Women went back to working in the hospitals and schools. The world was heading for a strange sort of proscribed peace. That made me feel better but that carnage I’d created left a lump in my throat and a depressing sadness that it seemed to be the only way.

Over the next two weeks it was obvious that things were changing fast

There were areas of unrest which continued to create a sort of resource drain, people being killed and maimed in skirmishes for power in areas where the corrupt elite had been overthrown, or were trying to hold out against the proles.

No place was worse than Russia where opium that should have come from Afghanistan and Pakistan was suddenly not there. The cartels pulled a vacuum, prices skyrocketed which caused a small surge in robberies and drastic crimes then when no heroin was available at all, the system collapsed and the rats deserted the sinking ship, shooting the kapos and leaders on the way. This was made worse by hooked junkies desperately seeking even the smalles relief from their withdrawal symptoms.

Smaller economies collapsed completely — North Korea became even more militant and Kim Jong Un tried to fire a missile with the intention of precipitating a war, which when you consider what Molly had done was quite a mistake as the missile just melted down right where it was and created a dirty bomb for the locality — anyone in the local area of the silo was contaminated with plutonium 238 and became ill and died within a few days.

The North Korean hierarchy checked the other silos and blamed spies from South Korea for the bomb and fired two more missiles with similar results. The regime began to implode.
China was very surprised and checked their missiles too. They had yet to be ‘adjusted’.

So far it was going quite well I thought — I’d only been at this for a year and already the world was a different place.

“Present calculations predict that if you keep interfering at this level, there will be global conflict within 5 years. This will cause 1 billion deaths and create famine that will kill another 2 billion over the next fifteen years.” Molly intoned one day when I was sat with my children on the Lunar site..

I felt dizzy as my blood pressure went up. “What are you talking about?”

“The instability you are creating is getting the economists jumpy and it will initiate a depression worse than the 30’s.” Molly waited for my reaction.

“Any recommendations?”

“You need to get back to Earth and do some buying of stocks to regulate the market.”

“Which stocks?” I gasped

“I can do an analysis but you’re going to be propping up a few countries for a while.” Moly droned on.

“What about my babies?” I blushed thinking of the times this must have been used as an excuse by countless women in the past.

“Take them with you, they’ll soon be able to help.”

The truth was at but a few days old they were already beginning to understand that they were different.

They made very little noise and were always floating about up and down the corridors. Molly upbraided them more than once when they wanted to open the door to the surface of the moon.

When I found out, I went ballistic.

*Children, I am in the dining room, I want to see you immediately.*

Two little contrite Mekons soon appeared at the door and settled on their high chairs.

I spoke out loud knowing that their awareness was a lot more than even a few hours before.
“I know you are keen to explore your little world and your minds are open to all the stimulus that we can possibly put your way. The problem is that we’re on a moon around our planet and there’s no air outside this apartment, you would not survive outside even for a minute. Do you understand?”

*Sorry mummy, we excited… learn.* Paul spoke for them.

I reverted to mental projection.*Have you seen other babies like you on the vid screen?*
I looked at them for signs of comprehension. They both sort of nodded.

*Why they not in air? Lie down?* Ruth asked.

*You are not like them, you are like me, special.* They nodded.*Only you and me go in air.* I pointed to them both.

*You go too? No big people in TV in air.*

I demonstrated my ability to float — it didn’t come as easily as theirs, but I had found I was able during my pregnancy — it was a boon to my back!

*We also speak with mind not sound — I make noise, no words.* Ruth struggled, mewling and growling a bit.

“That takes time,” I spoke, “your bodies are very young. Need to learn.”

*Mm, learn we must,* Paul thought at me, sounding much like Yoda.

I smiled and tucked them into bed. *no getting up unless I’m with you, goodnight darlings.*

*night mummy* in unison.

I lay down thinking. *Molly, can you organize a meeting with our sponsors?*

*Yes, of course. When?*

*I don’t know, how long does it take them to get here.*

*What? physically?* I could hear the incredulity in Molly’s ‘voice’.

*Well how..ever it’s done.* I suggested, realising that it would be impractical if they were several hundred light years away.

*Four hours would be polite, unless it was an emergency, for a holomeeting.* Molly advised. *Any particular subject?*

*Diplomacy and interfering… not yours I hasten to add.* I didn’t want her to get huffy. “I have a lot to learn about molding Earth to the future, I don’t need to kill everyone to make Earth better.*

*Frankly, that may not be a bad thing in the long run.* Molly sounded a bit dismissive.

*What do they look like?.. our sponsors I mean.* I didn’t want to appear shocked if they were like arthropods (Slugs) or something.

*Mostly mammals with various height and colour differences — some warm blooded reptilians, or what you might define them as. Other species don’t seem to make the cut for intelligence.*

*No AIs? or manufactured intelligences?*

*No, C3PO only exists in the movies…* I’m sure that Molly sniggered. A short pause and *The delegation will meet with you after this sleep period about 10 hours from now. They are looking forward to it.*

I was sat in the conference room, the other chairs were empty and the lights bathed the area in a warm glow. The table was some sort of stone or it looked like it — about 20 feet long, with a sheen like polished ebony.

“Stand by. Delegates are incoming.” The sound of Molly being so totally formal was suddenly strange and I perked up a bit.

The lights flickered slightly I thought, then realised it was the lasers for the holograms as the delegates appeared before me. In a few seconds it seemed they were totally real. The colours and naturalness of the textures were wholly normal, or is that holo-normal?

A brief pause and the tall blue guy with epaulettes and almost white hair stood and bowed slightly to me. *Good day to you Helen, I am Tarl Gros, I am honoured to meet you, it is not often we welcome a new member to our council.*

I rose and bowed back, *I am both honoured and surprised to be meeting with you all. A few months ago I would have been overawed by the thought of your very existence now I am here on my moon talking with delegates from many light years distance.*

A smaller humanoid with an orangey hue ‘spoke’. *You have called us here from our respective home worlds we seldom actually meet with each other. It is always a pleasure too meet with a new member planet’s representative, since we thus all get to meet with each other again.* She paused then continued,*I am Brilissae* She bowed briefly.

All 12 delegates spent a minute greeting each other and Helen, then Tarl looked to Helen.

*Helen, you requested a meeting with us. How may we be of assistance to you?*

*I was lying awake last night and realised that I’ve become the leader of a world without any of the experience that I need to do even a poor job. I have no skills and no readily available data to give me an idea of what damage or good I may do whilst trying to improve the lot of my fellow man.*

*It is a creditable request indeed, Helen. You are indeed without the depth of knowledge that would give you the insight to do the job easily. However, you are more than mentally capable and physically empowered to convince any of the world leaders that you have the ability to lead them to a civilized future.* Brillisae nodded in deference to Helen and placed her hands together in a universal language of peace.

A biped. with figured colourful scales, half way down the room, coughed gently and spoke. *Helen, I am Piran, I of all the delegates live closest to you, in the direction of what you call Orion. It is a minor system, not yet in your data banks. However our civilization is one of the older ones and we have visited here quite often watching you climb the ladder of thought and ideals.
I am willing to spend some time with you to help you make decisions that will perhaps be beneficial to your peoples.*

The others clapped and thanked Piran, for her generosity of spirit. *I will be available whenever you wish to converse- over perhaps the next 100 years or until we decide further to meet again and make other arrangements.*

My mind boggled. This perfect stranger has put herself at my disposal to meet with me whenever I wish for the NEXT 100 YEARS. We only met five minutes ago!

*I thank you Piran for your inestimable offer of assistance and support. I know I shall be taking you up on it; I will try not to do so without need.* I bowed deeply to Piran. I was more than grateful.

*Your Mowllry unit will give you a lot of assistance if you frame your questions well. They do have a tendency to be lazy and take the shortest route to an answer if you let them.* A female who looked fairly similar to human smiled at me and I swore she winked at me! * I am Avadine, I am pleased to welcome you to the council. Before we leave, I shall initiate a download of some pertinent facts about our star systems and how we may best assist you..* ( I found out later that her eyes worked independently)

One by one each member of the council spoke to Helen and offered some kind of assistance which whilst not physical would be of inestimable use over the coming centuries. There seemed to be little to do but allow Molly to make notes of who offered what and reprise me later.

Avadine rose and made a semi formal speech of welcome and before they departed spoke with an advising tone *Helen, we welcome you to our circle. Each of us is leader of our worlds. Some of us are openly leaders several of us are not. We choose not to be at the forefront of our worlds as there is still some tendency for others to want to usurp the power of whoever leads. Thus we do it from behind the scenes. I urge you to do similarly at least for the next few hundred years, until your peoples walk together in harmony.* Heads round the table nodded sagely at this warning.

I rose to reply. *I thank you all for your inestimable input, which will be taken to heart, I assure you. It is still difficult for me to come to grips with the length of time I may be around. I am what you may term a precipitous and precocious youth and may be for quite a while until I learn to curb my enthusiasm and willful ideas. My children are with me and have shown they possess the talents which I have recently become aware of in myself. With their aid I will be more able to manage this amazing opportunity to become a part of this council.* I sat feeling very humble indeed. These people had led their worlds from anonymity for hundreds or thousands of years. I was barging about clicking my fingers and messing up the status quo without considering the consequences. I was time I got my feet back on Earth - literally!

Slowly one by one the delegates faded from view after they said goodbye to their friends and allies, until only Molly and Helen remained.

“Molly, I must return to my house in Sydney. Could you bring my car to the Putty Road and put in it the necessary baby stuff. Oh and I’ll need their birth certificates if you have them.”

I walked quickly to the nursery and my babies were flitting round the room like cherubs chasing each other and giggling.

“Children, please settle down, I have something to say.” The babies settled slowly to the bed and listened to their mother.

“In a short while, we will be returning to Earth which will mean you must behave like other babies whilst there is the slightest chance that you will be observed by other people.
If you do something that is seen by someone to be different, you will put us all in great danger, do I make myself understood.”

The children looked at each other and then Ruth nodded and replied. *Yes, mummy but it will be very hard. We will try not to let you down.” They both looked a bit sad, like their summer holidays were over.

“I can’t get the car out of the car park at the apartment in Brisbane. There’s a surveillance camera pointed at it permanently, it would be missed. The car in Sydney is too small for you and the babies with all their gear.” Molly sounded frustrated.

“That’s Ok Molly order a load of stuff to be delivered to both Brisbane and Sydney and Set me and the kids down at Brisbane Airport - out of sight of course.”

“Best I can do is Outside the station at Park road. There’s cameras everywhere else. Unless you want to interfere with a camera?”

“No, that’s ok, we’ll go by train and get a taxi from Southbank.” I said resignedly.

I put the babies in the double pushchair picked up my bags and walked down to the plate. “Ok babies? This may feel yucky but it won’t do any harm ok? Energise.”

We appeared behind a bus stop shelter at Park Road and I instantly looked up and down the road to check we weren’t seen. I then looked at two - well actually I looked at four very wide eyes. *Mummy that was hurty.*

*Molly, you’ll have to sort that, it still hurts, even though I’m used to it.*

*You’ve no idea what the babies left behind Helen. It was all over the plate. I re-energized it to the surface* Molly sounded long suffering. I giggled and the babies smiled. They were well aware of the conversation.

I walked round the corner to go for the train and there was a taxi waiting. I decided it was a better idea and got into the taxi and within minutes we were home.

The concierge looked at the babies as we entered and said, “What a fine pair. Let me know if you want a babysitter, my youngest sister is still trying to earn a few dollars. Here’s your mail, I would have put it in your apartment but I keep getting waylaid before I can get there.”

We took the lift and I was inside and putting on the kettle within a minute.
There on the counter were two baby bottles and a rather nice looking gin and tonic.
“Compliments of the season and welcome home ma’am” intoned the baby sitter. My babysitter. “I perceived your arrival and made suitable refreshments.”

For about ten seconds I was mentally looking round for a human then realised it was an AI. The children spiked fear. Then I realised I have a butler! Oh how sweet is that?

“Thank you, what should I call you?”

“You can call me anytime, but I’d like to answer to Andrew.” I grinned — a butler with a sense of humour, no less. I looked him over and I couldn’t tell him from a normal human.
He was also very good looking in an older sort of way.

*Molly, is he one of yours?*

*Yes Helen, I thought he might be a nice surprise. He has protective capability and is a very good driver.*

*Thank you, I almost fainted when he spoke up, but I realised before I dismembered him that I’d asked for a baby sitter.*

I looked round and realised he was no longer there. I heard him in the bedroom — unpacking for me. Sweet as!

Paul asked, *Mummy, man downstairs, is normal? No thoughts?*

“Yes darling, he’s a normal. Not like us.”

*Let us out please.* Ruth was trying to get out of the seat belt in the push chair and her little hands couldn’t undo the clip.

I reached down and unclipped both and they floated free after struggling for a moment or two. Earth’s gravity making them work harder for a change.

*Not easy to float here.* Ruth slipped to the ground and sat for a minute.

“Perhaps that will remind you that we must be careful.” I walked over and closed the curtains — I wasn’t overlooked but some perv may have a telescope.

*Does anyone round here have a telescope, Molly?*

*I’m always on the lookout for that sort of thing Helen, so is Andy. You also would feel the stray thought if you were being observed — thoughts direct themselves to the observed, much like you can feel if someone is watching you, your sense is much more defined — you will know*

We settled in.
I watched the news with the children and Andy washed the clothes and made himself utterly useful.

There was a bit of brinkmanship going on with the Syrians and the Israelis — for a change.
I idly wondered if I could influence them from here. Should I get closer?
*Molly, is there a way to mentally calm people from a distance?*

*Only if you can identify them properly by their mind signature.*

*Oh, ok* So that’s out unless I can see him live on TV and work out which is his mind amongst 10 million others in the area.

*Can I directly influence a person, live on TV?* A different angle.

*Most certainly and I can even assist if I know who you are directing against.*

*Can you tell me when there’s a live broadcast from Syria and put it on my TV here?* I’m getting very gadgetty now!

*I can, but that would produce a second or so delay each way to the moon. It would be hard to work like that. Instead, I can redirect Syrian TV direct to you from network cable at the Syrian Embassy. Would that be what you need?*

*Yes, I want to do a mental suppression on Syrias President.*

*You’re messing with a hotpotato Helen, it may cause a worse problem.*

*Yes, you’re right — forget it.*

I grabbed Ruth’s leg as she passed me to reach Paul.

“Missy Ruth, please don’t keep floating about, it’s not natural.” I felt paranoid and stretched my mind outwards for signs of someone watching. *Molly, there’s a camera in here, I can feel someone watching me*

*On it - It’s not in your apartment, it’s outside in the hall, I’m intercepting the signal.
Whoever it is can’t see you where you are, it’s into your bedroom through the outside wall from the passageway to the lift.*

I slowly rose and walked into the bedroom. I pretended to stretch as I twirled round the room locking onto what was a tiny spot on the wall — just below the ceiling. I spread my net wider to see if anyone was watching — that BLOODY Concierge. I hit him with a blow to the mind.

“Andy, be a love and pop down to the front desk and invite our dear concierge up here please. Don’t take no for an answer.”

“At once madam.” Andy slipped away quietly.

A minute or two later, a very red concierge was stood in front of me.

“Well what have you to say for yourself?”

“About what Ms Cartwright?” He feigned ignorance.

“I’m only going to give you one chance, tell me who fitted up my apartment with a camera?”

“What camera?” He continued to play dumb.

I reached into his head and looked, I saw a pretty dirty mind that had some images of most of the tenants with no clothes on. Some children too. Oh God. I looked to see if there was anything odd about what he’d seen in here — found a few scenes of sex with various lovers — perv stuff, but not one picture of strange conversations or science fantasy. He’d seen nothing, but it didn’t mean no one else had.

Who else looked through these cameras to the tenants?

I sorted through another area and dug out the phone number of his friend who shared his penchant for voyeurism.

“Andy phone 07 555 6486 and ask our dear friend, Bob to come up and see us.

*That’s an address in Coorparoo Helen.* Molly injected it’ll be a while before he gets here.
I looked at the concierge, “phone your friend” I ordered him. He tried to resist and I pushed a little . He pulled out his phone and dialed,

“Bob, come over to the apartments — I’ve got something you just have to see. Yeah, right now.”

“He’s in town and will be here in a few minutes.”

While we waited I walked into the bedroom and asked Andy to pull on the fibre optic and see what transpired 4 metres of fibre optic came out of the wall. I looked at the miserable little bastard and felt like strangling him with it.

“Where’s the camera?” His mind told me — *in the service duct*. I walked over and grabbed his keys, “excuse me won’t you? I tossed them to Andy who went out and opened the service duct and pulled out the little camera and one that connected to the apartment across the hall, together with its fibre optic.

“I found these ma’am,” he put them on the counter in front of one very miserable man.

“So do you have any idea why I called you here tonight?” I enquired with as much sarcasm as I could muster. I suddenly noticed the children’s faces behind the concierge looking round the door edge — about 4 feet from the floor — it’s hard to imagine a less likely place for 2 three week old babies to be looking from. I started giggling.

“Andrew, would you please look after the babies, I pointed and stopped our miscreant getting curious. He had no idea why I giggled and was wondering when the other shoe was about to fall. The phone rang in his pocket. “Tell Bob to come up here.”

“Come up to apartment 4b.” He rang off.

I opened the door and Bob walked in. I stopped him where he was and checked him for guilt.
It was a little odd, this character had more nooks and crannies in his head than a log with termites. Each one filled with nasty stuff. Some of it was just porn, but some of it was sinister stuff drugs and kiddy porn prostitution and protection.

Then I saw why, he was a policeman. A detective no less. “Bob, nice to see you here,” I smiled at him and he looked at our erstwhile felon. “What’s going on Ralph?”
I watched him pretend to distance himself from his mate.

“Bob, you may not know this, but Ralphy here has dropped you in it, he has told us that you have been watching the people in this building whilst unaware.”

Bob seemed shocked, “Why would he do that? Why would he implicate me?” He looked at Ralph for an answer — a sort of ‘if you don’t admit to this and take all the blame, you’re going down.’ He continued reaching into his pocket. “I’m a detective, why would I want to do anything like that?”
I looked at his badge and said, “That’s not going to save you, you’re as bad as Ralphy here.”

“I have the evidence right here and there’s going to be your fingerprints in Ralphy’s den isn’t there?” the two looked defiant.

I’d spent the idle minutes wondering if these two had seen anything, I’d searched their heads quite thoroughly and they were perverts, but they hadn’t witnessed anything strange.

Bob decided to bluff it out. “I was following a line of enquiry and Ralph had undertaken to acquire the information, I know nothing about how he did it.”

“BUZZZ — wrong. You have sat in Ralph’s nasty little hideaway, watching the tenants shagging and stripping, without a care in the world. Now you’re telling me you were doing it to fight crime. Bullshit.”

Andrew pop downstairs and remove the wiring for these cameras please and pull all the cameras from the service ducts.

“You can’t do that, it’s private property.” Detective Bob said.

“What do you prefer, waking up in the morning not in the river, or not waking up in the river?”

I watched the lump travel up and down the throat of both men.

“Right off you go, don’t do it again.” Their little eyes lit up like it was Christmas — they’d got away with it, they smirked at each other as they reached the door. As they passed through the door I wiped all memory of the cameras from their minds and I wiped all the shite from Bob’s mind and all the nasty kinkiness from Ralph’s. They looked at each other a bit puzzled and went to the lift.

I heard the kids chortling in the next room. I walked through and leaned on the doorframe. “That my dear children is what a lot of ordinary people are like. It’s our job to improve their lot and make them nice — to make the world a good place to grow and be happy in. Right bed time you two.” I kissed them goodnight and turned off the light. I spent the next twenty minutes searching the apartment all for all the possible bugs and other things that shouldn’t be there.

Part 11

The next day I decided to expose the children to the rest of humanity and took them for a walk along Southbank. They wanted to practice flying, but I instilled on them the importance of appearing normal and they accepted for now it would be a strange thing to do if no one else could do it.

I had a think about how easily I was accepting this strange pair of twins who could almost speak from birth- but were totally reliant on me for everything — I presumed.

I tethered them in the stroller which meant hauling them flat since babies of a few weeks old were normally unable to do anything at all except eat, cry and poo.
*Mummy, please let us sit up we can’t see out otherwise.* Ruth complained bitterly — I almost thought they were going to cry but they refrained when I gave them a hard stare.
I loved them with all I had, but they were going to be a handful if I didn’t keep them under control.

Eventually we got out onto the street and I got some sun on my face for the first time in a few weeks. I sat at a bench overlooking the river and relaxed in the sun filtered through the bougainvillea growing over the trellis nearby.

One or two passing ladies took a peek into the stroller to see the kiddies and smile at me — “how old?” was the usual question. “Nearly four weeks.” Was my oft repeated answer.

One lady said, “they seem much older than that with their steady gaze.” I smiled.

“They seem to keep each other company and aren’t in the least fractious.” I replied.

“They say twins often have a mental bond with each other.” The lady continued. “Like they’re telepathic.”

“It seems to be so, but I think that’s with identical twins — these are only fraternal one boy and one girl.” I sidelined the conversation. I didn’t want ANYONE thinking even momentarily that I had mentalist children.

“They seem very knowing, almost like they understand me.” I wanted the lady to move on so I gave her a mental nudge. Even so it was a minute or two before she got the mental hint and moved on.

I looked into the cot and the twins smiled at me, *were we good, mummy?*
“Very good my darlings, see how easily you could be discovered just by a passing stranger?” I felt them nod in my head; a strange experience since there was no other thought form.

When we arrived back at the apartments, the concierge greeted me with, “This lady is from the Social Services.” He turned away to carry on with his work as a tall thin lady rose from the sofa against the wall opposite to greet me.
“Good afternoon Miss Cartwright,’ she seemed to sneer down her nose at my single status. “I have come to check on the babies’ health and circumstances.”

“Oh, and what circumstances would those be then?” I asked frowning at her peremptory attitude.

“Just to make sure the babies are being properly cared for.” I frowned again and looked at her. I was about to give her a mental command to rack off but thought better of it.

“Well, these are my little cherubs,” I indicated to the waspish woman. She peered into the stroller and my two little darlings peered back at her. I got the feeling watching the woman’s face that the expressions my two gave weren’t entirely beneficent. I didn’t feel any mental push, but the woman seemed a little disconcerted.

“These babies are 4 weeks old?”

“Thereabouts, four weeks next Tuesday actually.” I answered easily, smiling at them and her as if butter wouldn’t melt in my mouth — whereas I could probably melt hi-temp Lithium grease if the truth be known. “I’m Helen, these are Ruth and Paul.” I introduced them and me.

“Mary Sutcliffe, “she offered her hand. “I’ll be popping in now and then as time goes by to check on their progress. Can I see your apartment, it’s one of the things I have to tick off — suitability for bringing up children.” She sneered again.

I was getting a little annoyed, “If you must. Come this way.” I walked to the lift and pressed the button.

When I got to the apartment, the door opened and Andrew ushered us inside. “Good afternoon ma’am, I trust you had a pleasant walk?”

The nose on the old crone wrinkled in distaste — she wasn’t used to being upstaged.

“My butler, Andrew.” I walked in and popped my parasol in the stand and bent to unclip the babies,

“I see you have a guest ma’am, will she be taking tea?” Andrew stood positioned to intercede on my behalf if I said one word.

“No Andrew, she’s not staying, she just wants to check my babies are safely housed.”
At that I turned and raised an eyebrow at her. As if to say, ‘do you really expect to walk into my house?’

“Well I would like to see the babies’ room?”

“Why?”
“To check its suitability.” She was trying to see through into the living area through the double entry doors from the hall. Andrew was blocking her view.

“I think you’ve invaded my privacy quite enough don’t you?”

“Well I need to check them off my list” She tried to inveigle her way in, Andrew stood implacably before her.

“I think you can safely say that this apartment is sufficiently well maintained as not to put the babies in jeopardy.” Andrew stated diffidently as I walked away from her with one baby in each arm.

“No I must insist,” Mary complained. I saw Paul look at her and then Mary blanched a little and held her tummy. “Well I’ll tick it off for now, but I’d like to see it next time.”
She backed off and Andrew let her out. “Have a good day ma’am.” Andrew said as he closed the door on her ass.

“Andy, please ask the concierge to make sure the woman has an appointment before she’s let in again.”

“Very good ma’am.” Andy smiled and lifted the phone. After a minute the phone beeped again. Andrew answered it then put it down again.
“The concierge spoke to her about future arrangements before she left ma’am.”

The last thing I wanted was for the putrid old wart to turn up at the door when I was on the lunar base.

“Paul dear, what did you do to the lady?” I looked him in the eye. He had the grace to blush — not yet 4 weeks and his sense of right and wrong was already established.

*Just made her feel sick a bit.* Paul whispered in my head.

“Best to leave things like that to me dear, she might connect you with something nasty and start to get funny ideas.”

“K mummy.” Paul managed to grip my neck and give me a hug.

Part 12
I was restlessly turning in the night when Molly called.
*Helen, I’ve been doing some analysis of the changes that are in progress.*

*What changes Molly?* I sat up rubbing my face to get some circulation into it and wake me up properly. I glanced at the clock, 3.40am

*The personnel changes and the reforms in North Korea and physical disablement of the Nuclear devices and missiles.*
*What prognosis have you achieved Molly?*

*WWIII starts on Dec 21 2012.* Molly said flatly as if reading from a document.

“Shit!” I stared into the darkened room and my eyes visualized the scenario of plumes of deadly radiation…. “What have I done?”

*It was borderline before, but it’s a lot more certain now that the changes have been made.* Molly confirmed. I noticed that she had avoided blaming me. *I’ve done the calcs several times over the last 36 hours and it becomes more solid every time.*

*Any chance of averting it ?* I shook my head trying to believe what Molly was telling me.

*Oh yes, but it’s not going to be easy.* Molly sounded like she was bracing to give the answer.

*Come on then, put me out of my misery.*

*We must engineer a natural disaster. There’s a CME — that’s a coronal mass ejection due to occur soon, we must make sure that some of the satellites that are supposed to shut down to safeguard them- don’t. This will causethem to suffer catastrophic failure of their computers and electronics.*

*Isn’t that going to make matters worse?* I couldn’t help thinking that less communications would be a worse scenario.

*Military hardware in space not working is going to be a good thing. I could just make them fail, but that might reverse the solution and make it worse. It has to appear that they failed due to a natural disaster.*

*I can’t help thinking that rather than being the saviour of mankind, I shall be the reason for its demise.* I felt very depressed — nothing I’d done over the last year had improved anything except my ego. *I was supposed to be a good person and I’m failing badly at everything. My Midas touch had become a kiss of death.*

*You’re very young Helen, there’s no better learning tool than failure.*

*That’s all very well to say except when you’re talking millions of lives. I may have become the worst mass murderer in history. How many people have I already killed? How many more will die because of me?*

*Ultimately Helen, the question is how many will survive and live to see wonders beyond imagining that would have perished in a frozen cave? The answer is a millionfold.* I felt marginally better.

*How do we affect this extraordinary feat of stopping these satellites from shutting down?*

*It’s not complicated, I just detune their coms link a few seconds before the shutdown arrives and they’ll think it was something to do with the CME, an unexpected collateral effect*

*I’ll believe you, Molly, millions wouldn’t.* I smiled vaguely — it seemed too much like science fiction. *How is that going to stop WWIII?*

*It’ll stop the viruses being released.* Simply said.

*Molly, please tell me you’re kidding?*

*I can’t do that without lying Helen.*

*I’m presuming these viruses are a MAD thing (Mutually Assured Destruction)?* I was mentally shuddering and crying that the military were so stupid as to do something like that. Especially the West who were supposed to be so Geneva Conventional. What if there was an accident in space — mankind may have been obliterated overnight by a stupid error.

*Mostly; some are designed to weaken rather than kill — and some are no longer dangerous to the populations they are protecting — they’ve been inoculating the water supply for several years.* Molly had said this with such offhandedness that I was stunned. It wasn’t nuclear radiation that would have plumes, it would be Anthrax and TB.

*I shall disable all but the most feeble. I’m rather glad this came up in time, protocols make it difficult for me to warn you beforehand of all the dangers that could befall us.*

*Molly, please answer me this, are all nations doing this? Am I in fact stopping what might have meant the demise of humanity?*

*In many ways, the expectation of humanity surviving this period were quite low until a shepherd was discovered in you.* Molly sounded wry. As if I was Earth’s 11th hour reprieve.

*Anything else I need to know about organized destruction of Homo Sapiens?* I felt cheated and I felt like I was going to be, not a matriarch of clan Earth, but a skivvy destined to put out fires until mankind could really come of age.

*One or two things, but nothing immediate.* Molly said as if ticking off a clipboard form.

Andrew appeared at the door. “I couldn’t help observing you are awake ma’am would you like a cup of cocoa?” It seemed wholly inappropriate but it also felt like I was being grounded and brought back to present reality.
“Yes please.” I took the proffered cup and sipped gratefully at the luxurious silken beverage.

*Nothing serious enough that can’t wait til morning then?*

*No Helen.*

I settled back down to sleep and I fell quickly into oblivion as military people the world over sweated over their red buttons. Never realizing that no matter what they did, they would never work.
While I slept, Molly sorted and stripped all the viruses from space transferring them into the fires of the sun. There would never again be a question of whether man was going to annihilate itself by default. That night humanity was saved from itself. I still had work to do, but it would be on a less dramatic level.

*Mummy!!* Ruth shouted into my head, *time to get up.*
I glanced at the clock and sure enough it was 6.15. I looked at my watch to confirm it and it said 4.12.
I shook it and held it to my ear — knowing in reality that I would never hear it tick anyway.
“This is fun, control over everything and not even my watch works.”

The kids floated in through the open door at around 6 inches off the ground.
I supposed they were flying solo….

*We’d thought it better to float below window level.* Paul answered my unasked query.
*I can’t wait to learn to walk* Ruth said with a weary mental sigh. The irony didn’t escape me.

*Don’t try to walk too early, your bones haven’t set.* I warned.
*We’d support ourselves so that it looked like we were walking — it’s just very difficult to control our legs so far.” Paul offered.

I looked at my watch to remind me what time it was — it was still 4.15.
*Molly can I have a watch that works please?* I switched to upcom!

*I have placed it on your dresser Helen* the immediate reply came.
Looked over at the dressing table and there lay a Patek Philipe. Classy but not overdone.

*Neat, thanks*

*Pleasure, enjoy.*

The morning continued a little better.

I was listening to the early morning news and it was full of a bushfire down South in Melbourne. It got me to thinking.

I sat down and nutted out a few logistics.
It was mind boggling.
The best I could come up with was less than minimal but it was a start.

For every person there needs to be a tree to make the oxygen for us to breathe, and the fire down south was consuming one every few seconds. Slash and burn in Indonesia and Brazil was cutting a further chunk of our atmosphere out and changing it to carbon dioxide — this was further warming the atmosphere and drying out areas that used to be able to support trees. We needed to change this in a hurry. Climate change apparently was inevitable, but it didn’t need to be so drastic as we were making it.

So two things needed to happen quickly — trees to grow and a drop in atmospheric temperature f2 degrees over the next 20 years. Could we manage to achieve this ??

After consultation with Molly we discovered tree planting could easily be achieved by a small group of people in each community — if there was water available. That was the sticking point- water was less available as fresh — it was more available as salt.

Molly didn’t have the energy resources to initiate a reversal of heat build up. I had some financial resources. Enough to make a start.

I spent a few days sorting out with local government a place I could start to plant trees as a carbon positive scheme — local government was only too happy to let me sink my capital into the local soil. After looking over the area, I sorted out a personnel manager and a manager for my tree planting game — I was determined to stop using heavy forces to initiate change — I wanted to do it locally with manpower — not star power.

I was a week into the setup when Molly contacted me with news that Piran was eager to contact me so I adjourned for a few hours to Luna and left the children with Andy who had quickly become their mentor and friend as well as their babysitter.

*Greetings Helen,* Piran bowed and placed her hand over her chest (I presumed where her heart was)
I smiled and repeated her gesture then sat in the comfortable seating area in the conference room. She smiled and also sat, though it was only a hologram.
*It is a pleasure to meet with you again Piran, how may I be of assistance to you?* I began.

*It is not a formal meeting Helen, I only came to congratulate you on your change of direction in dealing with the failings of Earth’s people. Your style of management will not be so sensitive to foibles of the cultures on your Earth* She smiled with her fine lips and nodded sagely.

*Thank you Piran, I was worried about my approach to some problems — I was getting too involved with the micromanagement. I hope this will bring about a more gentle change and allow a more reasoned approach to order.* I tried to sound humble, I don’t think I was very good at it.

*New leaders seldom grasp the concept so quickly, it is a good thing — circumstance may have harmed your progress for some centuries had things gotten out of control* Piran nodded sagely again.

*Might I suggest using a dimension portal to soak up some of the excess ocean heat? It will shorten the recovery period and may not be noticed if done subtly*

My mind boggled, I was being given technology that was beyond conception of our scientists like it was the new watch I got the other day.
I had to grin at that. *That would be most gratefully received.*

*That is settled then, I won’t keep you, I have much to do and would like to visit with some of our mutual friends, you must consider joining me sometime. It is good to meet with your peers in other parts of the Galaxy* With that, she waved and faded from view as I held up my hand in greeting. Short and sweet. I felt very small and yet I knew that in reality I was one of the most gifted individuals ever anywhere…. My God — anywhere in the galaxy. An hour later I was back on Earth playing with the kids. Life is becoming very strange yet surprisingly mundane.

It was hard to bounce the kids on my knee — they reacted to my jiggling leg by lowering their weight til they floated just above the maximum travel of my knee, negating the whole point of the exercise.

Our trips round the local area to buy things and our trips out in the car became more frequent and the children were quite sad that they didn’t meet any others like them.
They began to understand the reason for their existence and the goal that I pursued.

Though it was still in a childish way — concept without the depth — but it improved on a daily basis as did their amazing store of knowledge. They took the opportunity to visit Luna with me as often as they could where Molly spent time with them teaching the rudiments of knowledge that they would require in the next few years. I spent hours and hours with them when I wasn’t involved in starting up tree plantations across the country.

*Mummy? Would it be possible to fly over some of the tree places?* Paul asked as nicely as he could and smiled at me when I gave him my attention.

*Well we’d need to rent an airplane, we couldn’t just go flying around like superman you know.*

*Who’s superman and is he like us?* Ruth asked suddenly, *are there more like us?* more excited as she thought more positively about it.

*I don’t think so pet, we’re the first in many years to be chosen to be like this.* Ruth pouted a bit when she heard that. Then changed subjects.

*Watch this mummy, I can do up my own seatbelt,* she grabbed the end of it in her little hand and pushed it into the clip down the side of the cot without looking. Knowing where it was by feel — I was amazed — this was akin to a four year old and my little girl was only a few months old. Barely old enough to move from one place to another at best if she were ‘standard issue’

I did hire a plane — and a pilot of course. A little Cessna. And we flew over some of the plantations in the local area to see how they were progressing — they’d planted Paulonia and Spruce and hoop pine. All useful fast growing trees.
*Don’t they grow any faster mummy? They only look to be a foot or so high.*

*No dear, which is why we need to plant them now, because they take a long time to absorb the carbon from the air like we want them to.*

*I thought carbon was black?* Ruth chipped in.

*It’s a colourless gas when joined onto oxygen.* I lectured.

*Why do you need to use trees, why not just split the gas into oxygen and carbon?*

Having a conversation like this with three month old children was a bit hard on the head, but I was getting used to it.

*It takes heat to do that and that produces more CO2 than you get from the air.*

*Oh* and a puzzled frown was all I got from that.

“Mummy,” I nearly fell over because it wasn’t a thought, it was a sound. Paul was now 7 months old and had said his first word. Quickly followed by. “Can we go over to the plantations again soon. I want to see how much the trees have grown”

“Can we please?” Ruth joined in with the supplication.

“Yes of course we can but you have to promise me one thing,”

“What’s that mummy?” Paul asked smiling at me with a sort of self satisfied grin. Obviously the pair had been planning this for a while.

“That you communicate only with me and without using your new found voices — 7 month old children have a vocabulary of a very few words.” I smiled at them. “You’re very clever, the pair of you and I’m very proud of you both. And I love you very much, but we do have to be careful.” I admonished.

“We’ll be extraordinarily careful mummy” Boasted my little soldier. I felt a tear come to my eye. My child’s first words were from a vocabulary of a 12 year old.
We drove out to one of the plantations to the North of Brisbane and found the trees had put on a few centimeters — which was about their normal growth rate. The Paulonia had put on a lot more, but that was how they grew — quickly — they could be cropped in ten years and would regrow from the stump so didn’t need to be replanted — great trees!

Paul and Ruth sat side by side in their little stroller and plotted as I spoke to the farm manager about expected yields and time. “Well this plantation is growing at about 2 tons a week at the moment but in about three years will be growing at 10 tons a week. If we get sufficient rain. If it goes dry, we get almost no growth at all.”

“Haven’t you put in sufficient pipework to deliver water?

“We haven’t put in ANY, we thought you wouldn’t want it being green and pipes being plastic and all….” He looked at me like I had gone potty, like I’d said something totally unexpected. “Using water is subtracting from the overall green gain.”

“First and foremost, you’re supposed to be a farm manager not a tree hugger . If you want to fix carbon, you need to do it with live trees, and not dead ones. If you want to stop a fire, you need to do it with water and moist soil, not dry trees and arid soil.” I was more than annoyed and my little cohorts sat in the stroller strained to see the manager who was stood behind them. They stared at him round the edge of the stroller. Fixing him with stares. As if memorizing his face to fix him later.

“I want you to get some pipe laid 150 mm into the ground along each line of trees and allow each tree enough water to grow at optimum. Is that clear?”

“Well, I think we need to be a little more circumspect — I’m trying to do the right thing here and my instructions are to optimize the green value.” The manager tried to explain his position.

“Who told you this? Whose instructions are these?” I looked into his mind.
The Operations manager’s faces swam to the front of the plantations manager’s mind as he answered, “Mr Owen’s. He was very firm about not using capital and certainly not to buy water”

“Right, phone him and ask him again so I can hear him say it.”

“I can do better than that, I have the written instructions on an email.” He turned to move towards his office.

“No, just phone him, I want to hear his explanation.”

He dialed and spoke to Dave Owen briefly and handed the phone to me…..

“…. I want you to do this without any infrastructure, I can’t make a profit if you use so much water, is that clear Mr Anderson?”

“Very clear Mr Owen.” I said listening, expecting him to twig who was on the line.

“Who’s that? Where’s Anderson? I was talking to him.” Owen dug the hole a bit deeper.

“This is your boss, Owen, and you’re not following my directive are you?” I asked with a slightly supercilious smile.

“My Boss, no one’s my boss, I’m the boss.”

“Keep digging Mr Owen and while you’re digging, dig out your desk and the rest of your stuff. You’re off the payroll.” I spoke shortly and to the point.

“I don’t know who you are, but if you work for this company, you’re fired. Is that understood?” Owen spluttered. “What’s your name?”

“Look up from what was your desk and read what’s written above the Receptionist’s desk, it’ll give you a clue.” I smiled rather enjoying the joke.
I passed the phone back to Anderson. “Tell him who I am and then get onto the irrigation system. I’ll sort out the rest on the drive back to Brisbane.”

The twins were giggling and Andrew was trying not to smile in his usual robotic way.

We loaded the car back up and headed to Brisbane — I phoned personnel whilst en route and notified them of Dave Owen’s termination and for security to escort him from the premises after returning his keys. I thought about getting his house searched, but instead finished with, “Please make sure the accounts are scrupulously checked to ensure leakage of funds hasn’t occurred through his office. Inform me if that is the case. If you’re looking for good managers, I think Anderson might make the grade, if he’s a bit under experienced, get him up to speed and we’ll reconsider him later. ”

I hoped that was the end of it but it wasn’t to be; he tried to sue me for wrongful dismissal. I pointed out to his solicitor’s that nowhere in my instructions was making a profit mentioned; only the optimized growth of the trees, which he hadn’t complied with.
In the end I had to change his mind by getting him to admit to his solicitors that he’d been skimming and the solicitors then wouldn’t have a bar of him and left him to rot.
The solicitors had to admit to mine that he had divulged information that precluded them from supporting his case and I got a court order to have his accounts seized and his house checked — he’d only been working with us for a short while but he’d already stripped thousands from the company. I was amazed. I used the money to plant more trees — I didn’t press charges. He was finished professionally.

Somehow a little more rain fell in that area on a consistent basis than should have — I found out that all my plantations would get a little more rainfall than average — it was easy when you could cloud seed from the moon.
It was explained by the known science that trees carry an updraught and create their own rainfall. — what wasn’t normal was the rate of growth — more than 20% above normal — but it was put down to good husbandry by dedicated men and women on my staff.
I sold shares to finance more plantations and it soon became a self supporting industry and I was able to leave it well alone.

The dimension gate over the Pacific was farmed the same way and heat was bled to another planet that was suffering from a cold spell geologically — I didn’t understand the technology, but I did understand the effect and scientists were rapturous when they realised that things were stabilizing — though it didn’t help with some things and I had a lot of work still to do. One decent thing about the improved Pacific temperature was the effect it had on sardines — all of a sudden they were in much more plentiful supply. Chile was really pleased as it meant their exports went up.

Part 13

I was sitting with my beautiful children one night watching TV the news was on and the major news for the day was the crazy price of fuel. I wondered why alternatives were still hard to find and inefficient.

*Molly? What’s happening with fossil fuel alternatives?* I asked into the ether.

*Standby Helen, I’ll gather some relevant up to date information for you.* Molly quickly replied.

The children looked at me — they seemed to overhear general comms with Molly as if I spoke out loud. *What’s fossil fuel?* Paul asked mentally, it was still easier than using his voice.

“It’s fuel we use in cars and for making electricity, it comes from animals that have died in the sea over millennia and then been trapped in sediment. We dig it up and burn it.”
As I spoke I realised how stupid that sounded in this day and age.

*You’re kidding?* Ruth looked astonished.

“Well it’s easier than any other method — up to 100 years ago, we used coal mostly and wood from forests, until we ran out of forests that were easily accessible and coal was making the air dirty. Then we turned to oil because we had the means to get it from deep in the ground.”

*Why don’t they convert the sun’s energy? Is that why you’re growing trees near town? How much is there? What happens when it runs out.?* The questions flowed like water from these yearling children.

*Helen, the answer is that there is no oil crisis, it is merely a figment of imagination. There is sufficient alternative energy available and can easily be manufactured at any time.*

*Can you explain that please Molly?* I was a little perplexed.

*The oil companies need to sell oil to make revenue, governments need to tax people and oil companies to enable infrastructure to be afforded. If energy was free, the western world’s economy would fail. Niccola Tesla found this out 100 years ago before someone murdered him for trying it.*

*Oh, I see. Where is this technology?* I was confused.

*The oil companies own the patents. They are letting them out one by one to maintain the status quo. Hence LED lights and Digital Cameras.*

I sat back and thought about it, I needed more information and more knowledge of patent laws. I’m sure between Molly and me we could come up with a marketable product that would ease the energy from oil.

*Since we now have the heat sink over the Pacific and a tree planting program that is self sustaining in place, do we need to upset the world economy? I think we can allow things to continue slowly for as long as we need to to keep stability.* Molly attached some tactful brakes to my indignation.

I was beginning to realise that to do the best for the world was easier if I did very little except stop degradation and instability.

I decided to spend my time for a while doing my tree thing and bringing up my children as well as possible.

About a week later my social case worker Mary Sutcliffe decided to put in an appearance.
The children were one year old.
I had just come in from the market where I had bought my fresh food for the week and Andrew was hauling it manfully up from the carpark while I had the stroller with the babies when the lift door opened on the ground floor and in stepped Mary Sutcliffe with a very annoyed concierge.

“Madam, you can’t just go barging into the place without permission.” He was holding the door open to get the unwelcome visitor to alight from the car.

“I’ve come to see Miss Cartwright and she’s here, so you are dismissed.” She almost shoved the concierge from the door. I used my ability to stop the lift door closing.

“What do you want Miss Sutcliffe? I’m busy as you see.” I indicated the shopping and paraphernalia around me.

“ I am charged with making sure the children in my jurisdiction are properly cared for and being educated. … I held up my hand.

“They are, now hop off the lift and stop wasting my time.” I pointed to the door which was still open — whereupon she tried to press the door close button. I wasn’t about to let the lift move with her on it.

“You haven’t visited a doctor or had the children monitored at all in the last year.” She said . “That is not normal and we feel the children must be being neglected.”

The children looked up at her. I could see the astonishment on their little faces.

“Well they’re right in front of you, do they look neglected?” I was more than a bit pissed off by now.

“ I need to see them in their home setting.” I could tell she wasn’t going to let this go

*Mummy, should we tell her ourselves that we’re being looked after?* Paul asked soundlessly.

*No dear, just play dumb for the time being.* I warned gently.

“So. Tell me Miss Sutcliffe, what ‘we’ are we talking about here? Is that a royal we or the power invested in you by the social services? Because if you think you have power over my children you can think again. You may not and you will not progress further into my domain. Get OFF the lift. NOW!” I had decided.

Mary’s face blanched. She stepped back and the doors immediately began to close. She stuck her hand in to stop them but they didn’t reopen they just stopped an inch from her arm. “You haven’t heard the last of this, mark my words.” I heard through the gap.

*Molly, make sure she’s not allowed to come back please. If we need another worker to visit, make sure that there’s a note that they should telephone first and make an appointment.*

*Yes Helen.*

A few days later a letter arrived from Social Services which requested that I meet with them to discuss changing my social worker. I said fine and left the children with Andy while I attended the interview. I was a little intrigued as to how a government body could summon me, a private citizen of good standing to attend a meeting at their behest.

“Good morning Miss Cartwright.” I was sat in a large meeting room with three social workers — two men and a woman, Mary S was not present.

“It appears that Miss Sutcliffe was refused entry to your home last week Ms Cartwright, is that so? I looked at the little guy who had spoken. Typical empire builder. No real character just a snotty manner.

“As I refuse any who come without an appointment.” I said it without rancour and without prejudice.

“But you can’t refuse a social worker entry, Ms Cartwright. We need to see your living conditions for the good of the children.”

“ I live in an apartment worth several million dollars with a concierge who was assaulted when he tried to do his job which is to stop uninvited persons entering my home.”

The lady spoke, “we were expecting yu to bring your children so we could assess them.”

“Assess them for what?” I determined I wasn’t going to get wound up. So I asked quite gently. I could have just altered their minds, but something was telling me there is injustice here and I needed to get to the bottom of it.

“Well they haven’t been seen by a doctor for a year and they haven’t been weighed or health checked even by a district nurse.” She spoke with a sort of false concern.

“They aren’t sick.” I looked from one to the next. “They looked like they were expecting me to defend my actions and be apologetic.

“That’s beside the point madam, we need to see them.”

“Why?”

“It is our duty to inspect the situation of all children in our care.” The third person spoke.

“I’m going to say this once and once only. Those are my children; they are not in your care. I do not need a license to bear children and I did not indulge in a hospital to bring them into this world. You may not invade my privacy to inspect my children at your whim. If you wish to see my children, you may make an appointment to see them and me.
You may talk to them and you may look at them. You may not touch them or physically handle them AT ANY TIME. Do I make myself understood?” I stood and turned to leave the room. As I reached the door I turned and looked at them. “Is there anything else?”

They looked like they’d been gutted. “Er no. We shall discuss this and get back to you.”
*Molly, why didn’t you just tidy this up instead of letting me go through that fiasco?*
I wasn’t best pleased.

*I saw a problem with the system, and allowed that this might be the best way of handling it. Had I warned you, it would not have been so spontaneous. I apologise if you were upset.*

*Oh,* Molly had profoundly higher social skills than I had credited her with. *In that case Molly, I shall keep my options open on this one — I don’t think we’ve heard the last of it.*

*No, I concur.*

It was only two days later that the concierge rang upstairs at the same time as Molly contacted me. *There’s a delegation from the council and two policemen at the front desk. They have a court order to inspect your apartment. Would you like me to intervene?*

I thought for a moment or two. If I delay them and mess them about they’ll get uppity and create a scene. Do I want that?
If I just let them in, they’ll presume they’ve won some sort of victory.
If I repel them they will escalate.
If I mentally tell them they’ve seen what they came to see, they’ll still think they’ve won.

*Contact the local press. And Stop the lift until they are almost here. I want them to appear on my doorstep together.*

*Yes Helen* Molly sounded compliant.
*Local press are on their way.*
*Lift is still stuck on ground floor.*
*Press entering the building,*
The door buzzer sounded and a hubbub of slightly raised voices came from the lift lobby.
I looked through the peep hole.
“Ok Andrew open the door and stop the welfare and police and let the press in then ask the police to wait for a second — I want to prime the press.”
*Molly, what did you tell the press?*

*That the welfare were planning to use their Nazi tactics on a good citizen and should be there*.

*Perfect, thanks Molly*

Andy opened the door and the police and welfare people started to take a step forward.
Anddy held up his hand and looked over the entourage and indicated to the press that they should approach.
They did so, taking photos as they came.
“Please come in gentlemen,” turning to the police and welfare, “Ms Cartwright will invite you in in just a moment.” A policeman stepped forward. “We demand entry according to the welfare act 1994.”

“You will be allowed in momentarily, Ms Cartwright has instructed me to permit your ingress after she has organized the press. Indulge her for a moment if you please.”

“You are hindering an investigation if you do not allow us entry immediately.”

“I shall have to ask Ms Cartwright’s permission, excuse me.” He closed the door waited a few seconds and opened it again the police were glowering by this time and the welfare delegation were red with anger.

“Please follow me, ladies and gentlemen.” Andy slowly walked back into the apartment.

I was sat in the carver in the dining room. Andy directed them towards me.

“Thank you Andrew, that will be all for now.”

The Press were arranged behind me taking pictures and film of the proceedings, their little recorders were all flashing their little red lights.

“I presume you have some paperwork that allows you to burst into my apartment like a bunch of Nazis?” I queried, using what I would call my Imperial Manner.

The policeman stepped forward with a writ. “This allows us to enter your apartment to ascertain the welfare of your children.”

I turned and lifted my children into view one by one from below the table edge where they had been hidden from the group.

“Approach me, officer, and inspect my children.” I commanded.

The welfare people suddenly blanched as did the policeman — the press were grinning and snapping away. The children were smiling and looking very polite — they were stood holding onto the chair and waving to the press as they snapped away.

These were two children apparently very much advanced into the second year of growth and looked to be standing very much in command of their body. There was a size to them that belied their 12 month status. These were proper toddlers not babies.

They turned and looked at the Welfare people. “Why nasty people here mummy?” Ruth asked altogether in a way that belied her 12 month status — using language of a 2-3 year old. “Look mean.” Pointing at the policeman with the writ.

“They think they’re doing their job darling,” I offered.

“Tell go way.” Paul uttered dramatically. “No good people.”

The press laughed and snapped away. The welfare people were unable to decide if this had gone far enough.

One policeman turned to the Welfare contingent and said, not so sotto voce, “I thought you said these children were deprived and being neglected?” More clicks and flashes.

“Well she wouldn’t let us in to find out.” The guy with the glasses said plaintively.

“You didn’t need to get in. It’s obvious this is a top end unit, Christ she’s even got a butler dammit.”

“We need to get in to see if the children will be safe.” Came the reply.

“You just wanted to sticky beak the place (nosey parkers in Aussie slang).” The officer turned in disgust.

“We need to see the babies’ room.”

“Why?” someone in the press asked.

“It’s on our check off list.” Weak reply

I looked at the officer. “This has gone on long enough, I now ask that you leave my home, I trust the officers of the law have seen sufficient to relay their information should need arise?” I used it like a threat.

I nodded to the officer with the writ. “Andy will show you round the home since you hold the writ. The rest of you may wait in the lift lobby.”
Nobody moved.

I slammed my hand on the table. “Now!” everyone jumped including the press.
The press accompanied the officer round the apartment. Everyone lese filed out as I stood holding onto the babies hands as they stood next to me like little people rather than toddlers.

Ruth looked at me and made a passing motion with her hand, “These are not the ‘droids you are looking for.” And giggled.

“Shh Ruth, pretend to be babies.”

“Mm yes, The farce is strong with this one.” Paul quipped misquoting the line.
I snorted and tried to ignore them as the policeman left.

The press turned to me. “Any last quote Miss Cartwright?”

“Yes. Don’t mess with Helen Cartwright. I don’t do forelock touching.” The press left smiling and joking and obviously impressed with the scoop.

*Did we accomplish anything Molly?* I asked a bit wearily — it seemed to be pointless. Like all the social welfare system in this state. Applied in the wrong places for the wrong reasons.

*A few noses out of joint, but you appear to be a crusader to the press, you’ll be watched more keely now you’ve opened the bidding.*

*I still don’t know how to improve anything either domestic or international by any means at all — I just seem to be spinning on the spot.*

*40,000 years in a carpark, you can talk….* Molly imitated Kalvin and we all laughed.

*Wallleee* I shouted back. I had a lot of years to get this right, should I expect so much so soon?

Part 14

“The news tonight opens with the announcement that the carbon dioxide levels are still rising, but the heating effect has leveled — Scientists are unsure why the enthalpy or total heat is stabilised, but hopes that the trend continues. Some are suggesting outside influences are in action. Others are dismissing the claims that global warming was anything more than a tax trick to start with.

Some cults are springing up on the back of claims that only extraterrestrials could have any effect and it signals the end of the world. Nibiru and planet X have been at the forefront of these claims and people are outside at night searching the night sky, waiting for the projected planet to appear.
……
In other news, a high flyer was in the news today when the welfare system or Nanny state had to issue a writ to inspect a multimillion dollar apartment to see if it was suitable for children to be brought up in.

This newsreader says, half their luck to be living in such lovely accommodation and what good fortune that the press were invited to the confrontation to witness the ludicrous scene of two police officers and three social services officials trying to explain their motives to the press and ultimately to the state. We tried to communicate later with the minister for Social Services who declined to comment on the fiasco. This can do no good for the incumbent premier who has tried to justify the interference in private household’s affairs as for the common good.”

“That’s funny,” Paul smiled and Ruth grinned as they snuggled up next to me on the sofa.

“I wonder what they’ll try next, to get me to fall in line.” I thought vocally and the kids looked at me, waiting for the answer. I had no idea.

The next morning I got a phone call — heralded by Molly. *There were a lot of meetings going on last night Helen, things are stirring. Someone wants you pilloried and others want to congratulate you.*

When I answered the phone, it was the local political party in opposition. “Would you consider standing for parliament?” It was briefly asked and the padding was very short.
“We think you have the most excellent credentials — and we think you have the presence to do a lot of good for your fellow citizen.”

I told them I’d think about it. The kids were floating about the house, practicing their landings — touch and go… Andy was back stop — saving the ornaments from dire peril.
Every so often Andy would be in the wrong place and one of the children would contact a piece of furniture and a piece of glassware or porcelain would head for the deck to disappear before it hit the ground and reappear in its proper place.

*Enough, children, I’ve better things to do than chase crystal ware for you.* Molly complained.

The children flopped — literally - into the sofa and giggled, their eyes lit up with the excitement.. “This is fun.” Ruth squirmed up onto her bottom and slipped to the floor to try running across the room — every so often she’d overbalance and instead of hitting the ground she’d hover about 6inches from the deck and right herself then carry on. Pretty soon her balance was pretty much spot on and only now and then did she totter one way or the other.

“Don’t —“ I shook my head *Molly, let me know if they’re doing any damage to their bone structure by walking so much so early in life.*

*There’s no harm in it Helen, I’m monitoring them bio wise as well as chaos wise.* I could hear the smile in her voice, she loved the kids as much as I .

*Thanks Molly, you’re a treasure.*

Her voice changed to a drone, *By — Your — Command.* I snorted and continued to think about the offer as I watched the children explore their surrounding on an ever deeper level.

It seemed like their intelligence soared during this time — they were getting stimulus from many sources and Molly and Andy were mines of knowledge and experience.

Within a few months they were practically self sustaining — as long as Andy was about to cater to their every whim.

They were learning their alphabet and doing the basic sums on the children’s programmes quite adroitly and whilst their hand eye coordination was still off, it was improving fast and their mental as well as aeronautical agility was incredible.

It was becoming less about Helen’s future now asit was about the children’s.
Helen thought about pre school and kindy which would be well into the future — and was immediately ruled out since the children were already at grade one level and would be past grade school by the time they were 5 anyway.
Beaurocratically it was going to be a nightmare when they had to register for school. They would be so far ahead as to be finished before they started.

I also needed to have some more children — a few dozen more apparently or my presence would be useless.

Maybe I needed to have a different lifestyle — out in the wilds where my life could be out of the public eye.

Maybe buy a boat and settle for the hippy style and move from port to port until I was lost to beaurocracy and my children could then grow up anonymously. Desert Island?
Or maybe do it the other way round — have child prodigies and lead a public lifestyle as a member of local parliament — doing good and making things better for everyone.

Quandary after question after dilemma. There was no easy answer.
Maybe disappear of the map and visit the other stars in the federation and have some amazing things to have as experience.

I took the opportunity to have a bit of a holiday and went off to visit Molly for a week or two. It seemed a good idea and I could perhaps do some research on ways to tweak humanity towards a brighter future.

I prepared the concierge and had my apartment closed up as if I was going on extended holiday — the kids were excited and I went out of my way to invent an itinerary that would be hard to track and that would be safe to not be found on. No one would deem my disappearance as dangerous and start searching for me — I realised that short of touring Canada on skis with a dog sled, I was going to be noticed and reported unless the kids weren’t with me to start with — like I should leave them with an auntie.

I decided when we got to Luna base that a more elaborate scenario was called for. So while we were there, I set out to find a better lifestyle for the longer term — I loved my apartment, but it was more conducive to the long term as a settled individual — which I most certainly could not be during the next few hundred years. That still made me squirm.

Molly had a ball with the kids and the kids learned heaps from Molly and the bots in the various parts of the base. I didn’t worry about them as Molly was able to watch them perfectly ably 24/7 and they were pretty much invulnerable to all but the vacuum of space. They knew not to go outside and Molly wouldn’t let them anyway. They spent a lot of time using the external cameras to see the surface though.
Once in a while a satellite would come over and whilst I knew that Molly was scanning for radar etc, it made me feel a bit like a frog in a bio lab — about to be pinned to a table.
In the time we’d been up there, only the one that the Russians had overflown with had been close and Molly had wiped it and made it crash on the dark side of the moon.
The Russians did wonder about it as it had been working perfectly until it suddenlydied — they though it must have been a micro meteorite.

Back to the plan.

I’d kept up the visits with my parents who had accepted me as a friend of Ian’s (who was no longer with us!!) I thought it might be nice to leave the kids with them for a while. But it was difficult to rationalize — no one leaves their kids with strangers when they’re one year old.

I would have to take them with me — and the only way I could do that was to have a man around.

Andy was fine as a butler but could he hack it as the skipper of my yacht? Could I disappear from the boat for days at a time to relax on the moon — would I need to?
I decided I could — but maybe didn’t need to if I was on a decent yacht.

I looked around for one for weeks as the summer ground to a close.
I found a 30 metre (100 foot) sail boat that was set up to be handled by two people and had molly import some handy gadgets to improve the safety aspect.

I bought a gun. As we would be in international waters, and piracy was still quite a problem particularly in the Indian Ocean, I thought it prudent that I was known to have a gun on board. Indeed more than one. So I ended up with a shotgun, a handgun (357 magnum) and a rifle in .243 (6mm). I would never use them except as a demonstration of my prowess, but they would be part of the ship’s compliment. It made for a less risky tour.

My biggest problem would be as a single person with children on a big boat, I wasn’t afraid personally, but it would look like a simple job to hijack a large yacht if there were only two people on it and that would be very public.
I decided I didn’t care and that the sea was big enough to hide dead pirates — because I wouldn’t be merciful.

Part 14
We set sail from Manly Jetty with intentions to travel up to the start of the great barrier reef and thence up into warmer waters.

The boat had a capacity of 8 but there were only myself and Andy (who took no space at all as he never even sat down. He was pretty much a part of the navigational equipment) and the two babies who were independent of surroundings as Molly would pull them if they were in danger. As she would any of us.

This was an excursion of convenience. To get out of the public eye for a time. There were other things to sort and I wanted to have a way to spend some time Luna side whenever I felt like it. This was an ideal way.
Molly could keep an eye out for intrusion and andy could steer the boat and make it seem inhabited.

Molly even sent down some droids to look like crew.

The water wasn’t unpleasant on the first day but it was ruffled by a South Easterly cool breeze and the swell was increasing making the boat corkscrew slightly as it bore North.
The children soon got bored and were chasing each other up and down the halyards and braces.

“Children, get back on deck immediately — you are visible from the coast”. I turned and looked and the coast was a blur — but I didn’t like the thought of them actually being seen from another boat inadvertently.

“Aw mummy, please let us play, we need to exercise.” Ruth whined pouting — nothing like a 1 year old pouting!

*Molly, do we have any craft in our vicinity including submarines and unmanned?* I asked on broad wave so the kids could hear.

*Oddly enough, there’s a submarine about 2 miles to seaward of you.* Molly sounded perplexed. *I’m accessing orders.* she added.

*Collins class submarine, asked to keep an eye on you by coastguard. ‘Report any unusual contact or occurrences.’

I sat down suddenly stunned and the children sensing my alarm, set down beside me one each side.

*Did they see the children up the mast?* I asked urgently.

*Doesn’t look like it Helen, there’s no reporting going on and the internal comms system has not been used to communicate anything — I’m monitoring now.*

*Keep me updated Molly, this is a dangerous precedent.*

*I think it is drug related ma’am, you’re a person of interest with a large fortune with no income related to it.* Molly surmised. *I’d expect a passing interest, in that you are short crewed and have no solid itinerary.* I’ll inquire of the submarine database more thoroughly.*

Helen sat a while, feeling that the trip had taken a bit of a turn for the worse and may instead of being a fun time, it would turn into a spy vs spy thing.

*The submarine has sent a message that their stern seal has a problem and they will be returning to port.* Molly communicated briefly.

*Turning away now*

Paul turned and was about to wave in its general direction. “Don’t you dare. Little man you have a wicked sense of humour. You’d have them puzzling whether you had seen them or if you had special powers. THAT’S THE LAST THING WE NEED!

Paul grinned. “K mummy.” And slipped off the bench onto his feet and waddled off to find Ruth who’d zipped below deciding not to use legs for the time being.

*Any surveillance on us now?*

*No Helen.*

*Beam us up.*

The children found themselves at my side in the transporter room.

“Cool as mum.”

“This is on the understanding that should there be any circumstances like Coastguard or Navy we need to be ready to return and for you to be normal 1 year olds.”

“Yes mummy.”

Three days later, we returned to the boat as it neared Airlie Beach.

It was a nice rest and we moored up near the boat club and lowered the rubber ducky (Zodiac inflatable) into the water to use as a tender.

Before we’d had a chance to even contemplate popping ashore we were met by the local customs boat and asked if we had any contraband or firearms. I showed my international waters license and they asked to see the firearms. I showed them — locked away with the firing systems missing so they were rendered safe. They confiscated them anyway giving me a receipt.

“You can radio us when you are leaving and we’ll return them before you sail.” The customs man looked unapologetic. I didn’t really care. There was a duplicate set on the next deck in a concealed locker. And Molly could zap anyone long before they got a chance to board anyway.
It all seemed so paternalistic and silly. Andrew remained aboard with the kids — I went ashore for a walk. I bought a cocktail on the main street and watched the tourists enjoy their holiday. The odd pickpocket was persuaded to take the day off. It was generally a nice place and few were out to do harm. A lot of the tourists were backpackers and were just youngsters having a great time.
I felt a few eyes on me now and then and wondered if a dalliance might be on the cards.
I got no offers though. I was a bit out of their league. My sunhat was worth more than their ensemble. I smiled at the thought of taking on a small crew of one for my trip along the Great Barrier Reef. No — I valued my solitude too much.

At last I decided to return to my erstwhile home and headed back along the quay.
I had to remain moored outside the breakwater. There was no weather due to befall us so I wasn’t perturbed. Andy could keep anchor watch.

I watched the sun set over the hills and sipped a pina colada from my poop deck. Andy was putting together some comestibles — and it was a nice relaxing evening.

The children were reading together. A small boat went past and I got a wave from the couple returning to their modest 40 footer moored astern of me. “Hi there! Staying long?”

“No,just overnight — heading North tomorrow.” I answered.

“So are we, would you like to flotilla up?” I nodded — “See you at daybreak.”

The Coastgaurd came alongside at daybreak as we’d registered our plans to travel on the morning tide. They returned our gear to us and cautioned us about ‘practice and unauthorized use in National Waters’ then wished us a good trip.

An air horn and Andy’s voice brought me topside (that’s the upper deck) as I felt the anchor chain clunking solidly into the locker fo’rard. Anchor’s aweigh Helen!

“Right kids, we’ve got company today so please remain as children rather than seraphim floating round the mast.” I cautioned my little imps as they giggled from their seats in the cockpit. The jib was flapping as the wind caught it then I felt it slam taught and the boat heeled slightly as it brought its head to wind. A soft whirr and the self furling mainsail slipped from the mast and within a minute we were close hauled to a brisk onshore breeze on our starboard bow.

The boat that had hailed us the night before was a few hundred yards up water of us and we settled in slowly overhauling it until we sat on his Port quarter within hailing distance.
A wave from our travel companions and a squawk from the radio with a voice of friendly camaraderie, “Good morning boaters, we are the MacClean family aboard the “Claymore”- Over.”

I picked up the mike from its cradle, “Good morning Claymore; we are the ‘Kookaburra’ out of Brisbane. Cartwright family and Capt’n Andy at your service. Over”

“We’ll be heading North by North East until we clear Cone Island then North East to Townsville. Over.”

“We’ll shadow, thank you Claymore, out.” I didn’t feel the need to chat — maybe we’d moor up together in Townsville overnight or maybe not. In the meantime we’re just a safety boat for each other.

The water rushing over the bow and the gentle sway of the hull over the swell lulled me into a soporific calm. *Helen, word of caution.*

*Go on Molly.* I jumped but only a little — my eyes slid round to the twins — reading from a kindle together. *What’s up?*

*MacCleans are bogus. Their boat is owned by the Ministry of Defence, Australia.* Molly sounded like an efficient secretary and then I realise that’s probably exactly what she is.

*Thanks Molly, noted.* “Did you hear that kids?” I switched my attention to the youngsters.

“Yes mummy.” Ruth nodded solemnly. Paul’s quick nod and frown looking out of place in a one year old. They weren’t visible in the base of the cockpit in the shade of the mainsail to any outside the boat.

“Anything unusual from the Claymore Andy?”

“Not really Helen, but they do scan us with their binoculars quite regularly.” Andy replied. He didn’t need to use binoculars, his eyesight far exceeded any human specs (specifications not spectacles; pay attention).

“ I think the man on the other boat has been watching us a long time, I felt his attention last night when you came back from the shore.” I jumped — Ruth had uttered those words.
I looked at Andy with my eyebrows raised. He shook his head as if to say — ‘I don’t know where she got that from.’

I turned to the children, “Thank you for that, it helps me know what is going on. How did you know he was looking at us particularly.?”

“I read his mind, he was only a few hundred yards away.”

I was staggered. These babies were a phenomenon far beyond where I’d expected at one year old, even if they were superpowered.

“What else did you learn from them?” I quizzed. I was not used to trying to gauge allthe other people in my vicinity all the time. I had realised to do so would have been tiring and pretty boring. But the kids had latched on because they were unoccupied with anything else.

“They were sent to watch us all.” Paul intoned. He looked a bit anxious. “All four of us. For anything unusual, no specifics.” They never cease to amaze.

“Were they in the harbour when we arrived Andy?”

“No ma’am they arrived about an hour behind us. I had observed their sail ‘hull down’ all yesterday before you transported back to the yacht.”

*Molly, search ASIO mainframe for reference to us please. This is a bit odd to say the least and I feel isolated.” I looked across the water at the Claymore, it had sidled a little closer to us and lay over a few degrees so I could see into their cockpit. Family they may be, children they had not.

I sat and thought, they’re only out to watch, but why? What had put them onto us?

*Searched their database Helen, this is off the record. No one has anything entered on us.*

Yet the boat belonged to ASIO (Australian Secret Service).

*Shall I disable their vessel Helen?*

*No, we’re being watched, not assaulted.*

“I sense something about to happen mummy, I think they are going to fake an accident.”

We’d just passed Cone Island and were behind the barrier reef proper we were about to bear over to North West to run up the coast.

“Andy, I’m going to ask you to jibe in a minute.”

“Right ma’am. Heading?”

“Reverse Course.”

“Jibe, Andy”

“Jibe Ho.” The boat swung hard to Port and the sail spat the wind and the boom smacked across. Suddenly we were going in the opposite direction. Just moments later I looked and Claymore had suddenly ripped to Port not quite jibing, but heading straight into the water we’d have been in. They WOULD have collided with us.

“The trajectory looked like they were going to hole us amidships ma’am.”

*Radio transmission Helen — from Claymore to Air Support.* Molly interjected.

*Go ahead Molly.* I queried. The twins were agog, it wasn’t so much innocence as incredulity.

“There’s a helicopter mummy, coming out from Bowen” Paul shouted. He pointed — I looked but it was invisible as yet.

“Make all speed back to Airlie Andy… no wait.” I thought about the next phase.

*Molly, block transmissions from the chopper and the boat so they don’t have comms.*

*Done*

*Andy, ease the sail without making it obvious that we’re slowing on purpose.*

I picked up the mike. *Molly make sure I can communicate with the Claymore.*

*Done*

“Claymore, sorry to shear off like that, I’ve just had a satellite transmission from my company, bit of an emergency have to return to port. Safe trip. Out”

“I copy Kookaburra safe sailing, out.”

*Knock off their comms again so they can hear the chopper but can’t signal them.*

*Done*

Presently Ruth pointed toward the West and a spot had appeared on the horizon heading swiftly toward the two yachts.

“looks like their little plan was foiled but what was it?”

“We were all going to be rescued by the chopper after we’d collided.” Paul said. “Like it was a coincidence that they were in the area.”

“They have medical equipment aboard.” I could see Ruth concentrating.

*Molly download their data aboard and analyse intent, ASAP.*

*Kidnap, inside ASIO but not ASIO ordered. This is a secret black ops team.*

The helicopter was audible now and still bearing down as was the Claymore, who had given chase. No comms from the helo to the boat or vice versa was possible, so they were independently operating to overhaul the Kookaburra. They were going to try to take us anyway.

*Molly, increase our speed a little then transport a container into the water for the Claymore to run over. I want them concentrating on the chase not the water*

A few seconds later, the speed of the kookaburra increased and the sails filled hard the boat lay over like a Maxi Cup yacht on the annual race to Hobart.

The Claymore struggled hard to haul the sails in a little tighter and they seemed to edge a little faster - suddenly the bow lifted out of the water and the mast snapped as they hit something in the water. A hole appeared as the sunken container sheared through the bow and pulled the boat to a sudden and cataclysmic halt — the pair in the cockpit were thrown forward to be stopped by their safety harnesses — and before the had a chance to get to their feet, the hull settled and began to slide beneath the water. Within seconds they were trying to get free from their harnesses as the boat staggered lower and the cockpit went under.

The helicopter flared and turned to help their stricken fellows and Kookaburra churned on. *Fuel blockage I think Molly.*

*Done*

The helo suddenly went quiet and dropped like it had been stomped on. The instant loss of power dropping the aircraft straight onto the stricken yacht and their crew.

The blades struck the water and the helo instantly rolled over and sank — forcing the yacht beneath, it in a lover’s embrace to the bottom.

Kookaburra churned on, *no survivors* Molly confirmed. But those on the Kookaburra already knew that. The minds they were aware of before, were no longer.

“Straight back to Brisbane I think …. Belay that, head outside the islands to Whitehaven we’ll anchor off the beach and wait and see.”

“Very good Helen,” Andy said affably. As if we hadn’t just murdered 8 people.

*Molly, monitor radio and cellnet traffic for word of this. Keep me informed*

*Will do, will you be visiting tonight?* Molly asked.

*Yes, as soon as we’re established at Whitehaven, we’ll be there.*

Andy called me up to the cockpit as we anchored off the beach in 20 feet of water. Far enough out to protect and far enough in not to be a casualty of a passing freighter (or submarine).

There was no way they could really get close enough to do damage anyway, but it paid not to get too cocky.

I presumed that the coastguard would know we were there and approach us when they had someone in the area. They weren’t in on it. Had they been, they would not have returned the firearms. Unless….

I went to the locker and checked the guns for serviceability. They were fine. I wonder what would have happened had the shit hit the fan and I’d produced them to defend myself. Maybe they didn’t know I had them — but that seemed unlikely.

I checked the ammunition — it looked ok. I test fired the rifle — click. Shotgun click handgun click.

So they’d been onto the boat a lot earlier and duffed the ammo.
I checked the secret locker which was not accessible without molly transporting the guns out of the sealed compartment. They and the ammo were fine.

Curioser and curioser.

*Did you know the ammo had been tampered with Molly?*

*No, I hadn’t considered it a possibility as it was easily replaceable.*

*Who has been on the boat since I got the stuff?*

*Only the customs at Manly dock before we left.*

*So someone in their service is a plant?*

*It would appear so Helen.*

*Monitor comms from personnel, I’m going to phone the coastguard and tell them we decided to camp here instead of run to Townsville.*

I sat phoned the coastguard so they wouldn’t miss us.

“Have you been in company with a sailboat called Claymore? It is missing.”

“Yes, this morning we left with them and sailed as far as Cone Island then turned East when they turned West, at about 1300.”

“Very good, Kookaburra. Thank you for letting us know where you were. We thought maybe you’d had an accident with them. We saw you leave together from Airlie Beach.”

I trusted that their radio men had picked up the transmission that we were headed back before the ‘accident’. It appeared they had. Otherwise they’d have been all over us like a rash.

As soon as we moored, we adjourned to Luna base and enjoyed a nice meal and a relax.
Andy stayed on the boat and pretended to relax with a beer before turning in.

“There’s a boat mooring near your yacht,” Molly nudged me awake.
“Righto — beam us back to the yacht thanks.” It was 6am local.

I went up on deck where Andy was hosing down the salty decks. It was a lovely time of day off one of the most pristine and beautiful beaches in the world.

I looked across at the yacht moored closeby, a 50 foot sloop. Very nice. If that belonged to the secret service, they were being paid too much.

There was only a deck hand above deck sipping a coffee and enjoying the morning.
I slipped into his mind to find intent.

I almost recoiled — dirty minded so and so! I plastered on a fake smile and waved. He leered back.

“Home James.” I said to Andy.

“Yes ma’am.”

When we arrived back at Manly, customs came aboard again and confiscated our weapons again (well some of them at least) I decided that I wouldn’t sail with them again. I had my own hidden stuff if I needed it and I had proven that my backup was sufficient to reap the wind.

I told the customs my intention to dispose of them and they told me I was very wise (red tape idiots). They did a cursory check of the boat and let us free.

*Caravan time Molly — let’s go straight to the outback and get away from the bad guys.*

*Surely they will be able to track you more easily in a caravan Helen?*

*Well maybe that’s not a bad thing, I may be able to get to the bottom of this and find out what their problem is*

I’d bought a fifth wheel caravan a few months back and it was in a lock up near the docks so it was a simple job to buy a Ford F350 with the setup wedge and head out to pick it up — it didn’t need provisions as we could import anything we needed as we needed it. We also didn’t need fuel — as that too could be directly injected as we needed it.

The ultimate travel vehicle — and the van was luxury - more so than even the yacht.
What’s more it also had a compartment for firearms that wasn’t openable — sure you could cut a hole but that wasn’t the point!

“Mooney highway Andy” — It was only two days after we’d landed and I’d gone home packed some different clothes and pretended to sort my stuff and left again.

The flat looked the same but Molly said someone had been there though they were anonymous — no ID or phones on them. The wards had told of the intrusion but it had seemed a simple maintenance check and scheduled. Molly had subdued the bugs to the point they were showing life but didn’t transmit info — someone was definitely on to us.

I decided to junk them and open the bidding.

The caravan had a couple too and they mysteriously fell off when we went over a bump and ended up stuck to another car. There was nothing inside as it was undisturbed.
Molly removed one that activated only when the tow vehicle was attached. Fed from the power off the charge line. It was embedded in the fiberglass panel and polished over — practically invisibly.

We’d been out of town an hour or two and just passed Warwick when I realised that the car behind us ( a good way behind us) was not gaining — which in Oz is pretty bloody unusual if you’re hauling a van. Something about Aussie men makes them overtake vans at the earliest opportunity.

*Molly, can you trace the vehicle behind me please?*

A short pause then, *ASIO, driven by a female from that organization passenger is her superior.*

“Andy can you find a parking spot please in about 20 mins — we should be well clear of the town by then.” We’d passed Warwick and it was several hours til we reached the next large town

“Very good Helen.” Andy nodded and looked in his mirror.

*Recommendations Molly?* I asked, suddenly very calm.

*Not really Helen, too many variables.* Molly sounded absorbed as if recalculating constantly.

A little later a truck park came up and Andy pulled into it. The ASIO car pulled in close to the exit like they were just another car stopping for a break.

I let the kids out and primed them to wander around closing in on the Government car.

Ruth waddled in front of the car and sat down. I pretended to panic and ran over to her, “Ruth you silly girl, you musn’t sit in front of a car, it might move and hurt you.!” As I passed the window of the car where the occupants were studiously ignoring us, I reached in an pulled the keys from the ignition before the girl could react.

“Hey! What the hell do you think you’re doing?” The guy got out his side and the girl got out hers. Both were unsure of whether to escalate or defuse the situation. I whizzed up the windows and slammed the doors and locked them before they could react.

“Come on children, time to go.” I chivvied them gently. Suddenly the guy lost his bottle and ran for Paul to head him off and maybe use him as a hostage. He immediately tripped on an invisible stone and fell on his face. The girl started to draw her pistol — a Glock 9mm I noticed. I ignored her and continued to walk to the van as the two got circled round. It was obvious that they knew they’d been sprung and it was obvious that my reaction wasn’t expected. I didn’t cower or try to protect my children, I was totally unconcerned.

The Guy yelled, “Stop!!” just as I reached the back of the van. - I didn’t even break step.
“I am agent Brown, I am armed, and will shoot!” He furthered his cause, as I heard the Glock he had being drawn and cocked. I reached for the children’s hands as they walked beside me.

“You’d shoot an unarmed woman with two babies? You call yourselves a force for good?” not waiting for an answer I turned and walked round the back of the van before they could react or answer.

By the time they ran round the side of the van both with guns out, I was sat at the table Andy had got out and was being served a nice cup of tea. The babies were sat on the rug at my feet.

“Join me, won’t you?” I indicated to the two empty seats at the table with empty cups and plates.

The two agents looked at each other and de-cocked their weapons, looking very foolish.
As they approached, I placed the keys on the table and pushed them towards the empty places. They drew back the chairs and sat warily eyeing Andy.

“Cough.” I said, meaning, ‘tell me what you’re following me for.’

“Miss Cartwright, we’re charged with following you to wherever you’re going and making sure you don’t do anything untoward.” Agent Brown spoke slightly officiously and with a fair amount of embarrassment.

“I’m presuming you were supposed to do this covertly and not make me nervous?” I stirred my cup as Andy proffered the teapot to the blushing pair. “Please, don’t be so guarded, I’m not dangerous unless you threaten me or my babies.” I smiled indulgently. “Let’s forget you pulled those ridiculous 9mm toys on me. What’s your name then, dear?” I smiled generously at the girl. Her eyes were a bit wild; she was obviously out of her depth.
“Agent Susan Worth.”

“Well Sue, I think you’ve failed your first mission. Covert driver you are not.”

Sue looked over at Dave Brown and gave him a hard stare. “Oh it was his idea to stay back where no Australian would ever drive. 80 yards behind a fifth wheeler on an open road.” I laughed slightly at him. “Dave, you couldn’t stalk a wooden horse.” His eyes went a bit round when I said his first name as he hadn’t given it. “Badge # DS101445C?”

He almost jumped to his feet, “How?”

“Dave, dear boy, I can tell you the engine number on your car without moving.” I rattled off a series of numbers. “Actually that’s not your engine number, it’s your colleagues Visa card number.”

Dave looked at Susan who gulped and nodded.

“Your firearms, take them out and unload them, place them on the table under the napkins if you please, no arguments. There are children here and I don’t want you being silly.”

“There’s no way I’m giving you my gun, Miss Cartwright.” David looked aggressive for the first time, he looked cornered.

“Suit yourself.” I got up and walked round to their side of the table. I could see David’s face go red as he tried to move, but his body was inert. I’d switched it off as far as he was concerned. Autonomous functions were still available — for the present. I leaned over and lifted the gun from its holster and dropped the gun on the table — after slipping out the mag and the round up the spout. I palmed the round back into the mag and placed it out of his reach. I looked into his eyes and then reached for the knife he had on his forearm.
Then leaned over and pulled the K frame S&W from his ankle holster.

“Deary me, you’re quite the little soldier aren’t you?” I almost teased him about penis envy, but refrained. I could see Susan resignedly sat waiting for her turn.
“You just be a good girl and save me the effort please.” I looked into her eyes and she nodded. She only had the one.

“Andy, place these in the car will you? And not where easily visible — we don’t want any undesirables borrowing them do we?” Andy bowed slightly and smiled and said nothing. Just taking the pieces and the keys and heading for the parked Holden.

“Now you two, time for some serious chatter.” They looked resolute. “Now don’t be ridiculous, I haven’t broken one law and you draw a gun on me and my children after you follow me like a pair of kidnappers. You work for the government and you think you’re in charge. Well I’d like to differ. You work for me. I pay your damned wages. What do you know about a helicopter coming out to kidnap me from my boat last week?”

I could see the puzzlement on Susan’s face, but none existed on David’s. “So David, you’re the mole or are just one of a load of them?” He tried to deny it but I still had control. I slipped into his head. One of a load… Damn. This could get messy.

“Why David, what did I do?” I released his voice and he grunted..

When he realised he could talk he started to deny it all, “We’re just keeping an eye on–“
I took back control — and stopped his breathing as well. I saw his eyes start to panic.
“Wrong answer David. You were sent to abduct one or both of the twins. Susan would have been left holding the babies.” I grinned at my weak joke. “I also perceive that you were going to allow me to have an accident too. You’re really not very nice.” I stared at him for a minute or two.

*Another helicopter is on its way Helen. Would you like me to divert it?*

*No let it come, might as well round them up without doing collateral damage. Make sure they can’t open the doors when they land and disable any comms. Better disable any firearms too I think.*

“David, your friends are on their way, would you like to talk to them?” He smirked like it was he who was about to gain the upper hand again.

“Andy, could you drive the unit forward a bit and pop the children inside, I don’t want them to see too much blood.” I continued to sit as the helo noise first became discernable then soon very noisy as it approached. The Camper moved forward exposing me and the two agents. David grinned — obviously looking forward to my immediate demise and the taking of the twins. Soon the backwash from the prop was scattering small gravel and dust from the tarmac. Oddly not a scrap was reaching us — Oddly to David and Susan anyway. I’d actually put a bubble round us — the cloth on the camp table didn’t even flutter as the helo made it’s final approach — Bell Jet Rangers are noisy, but the noise was barely above voice level in my little bubble.
David looked suddenly frightened as he realised I was controlling the space around us.
I smiled at him, that supercilious smile that says, ‘Full House’

Part 16

The helo settled and the pitch and noise went off the rotors as the engine was cut. The handle on the side went up and down a few times and the doors remained firmly shut.
Suddenly a window on the cockpit was shattered and a gun poked out. “Lay down your arms and put your hands on your head.” The loudhailer from the chopper made a racket on the quiet roadside. I didn’t move except to pick up my cup and take another sip of my tea. “Put your hands on your head or I will fire.”
I turned round to the window some 20 yards away. Watching the guy with the gun, I watched him flick off the safety, and take more careful aim. Then I stopped his heart.
The gun wavered as he fell back into the cabin. The gun fell from the window before someone else could take his place and it fell to the tarmac.

I rose to my feet and walked over to the gun and picked it up *Molly reactivate this rifle please*.
*Done*
The replacement sniper at the broken window couldn’t depress his gun to bear on me and the two agents at the table watched helplessly as I re-cocked the gun and fired up into the air. I wanted to give them time to consider their actions before I let them out. I just emptied the gun then dropped it back on the tarmac.

I walked over to the front and broke off the air speed and altimeter sensors. Then opened the tank fuel testpoint/drain and ripped off the engine cover. Fuel began to run onto the gravel. The pilot realizing I was disabling his aircraft tried to restart it. But it won’t start with the fuel drain cock open. Soon it would be too dangerous to start it. The fuel would be too volatile.

“Pilot, open your door and get out.” I could see he was going to fire at me as soon as the door was open enough. I saw another gun ready to fire over his shoulder as well. I walked a little closer to the cockpit so I couldn’t be seen from the door. I allowed it to unlatch and it was flung open as the pilot and another man flung themselves out of the hatch. They didn’t land as they thought they would. The door slammed shut again as the two men tumbled onto the deck. Both of them landed on their shoulders their guns flying from their grasp as the bones crunched under the impact. They lay stunned on the deck looking up into space. Both going into shock as they lay broken on the ground.

“Now you two, are you going to try to hurt me some more or are you going to be good boys and play nice?”
I looked over at the table where Susan and David were seated. Tears ran down Susan’s face as she watched what she thought were her colleagues being hurt.

I walked over to her and put my hand on her shoulder. “I’m not doing this Susan, they are. I haven’t so much as raised a finger to them there’s more men in there who want me either locked up or dead, they don’t care which.” I looked into Susan’s eyes and she looked back at me.

“I didn’t know what they were going to do. I promise. I was just told we were going to do a stake out on you for a few days. I looked over at David. He was totally unapologetic.

“Are you going to tell me why?” I released his voice.

“You’re a threat, you’re dangerous. We’ve been watching you since you had that run in with the Social Services. There was something not right. Those kids were way too far advanced and your butler has no past. You keep disappearing for days at a time.”

“So what? Do you watch everyone who isn’t where they’re supposed to be?”

“It goes back further than that, the drop in crime rate the bad guys that keel over or get bumped, you’re always on an intercept with them before or after. Always in the area, too coincidental…”

“I still haven’t committed a crime, have I ?” I could see that quite a bit of resource had been put into this.”You’re not telling me all of the reasons, are you?”

Try as he might, he couldn’t keep me out of his head so I looked.

The jumble of thoughts surrounding my ‘case were like a thicket, no real definition but there. Until I came up with a picture from an infra red camera through the walls of my apartment taken from somewhere across the road — which showed me disappearing. One of the times I went to Luna base I suppose. Then another, more recent. Only one person on the boat.

*Molly, why haven’t you been able to intercept this stuff?*

*It wasn’t done through electronic media — it was word of mouth only* Molly sounded rattled as well.

*I want all the personnel connected with this here in ten minutes — this is to stop.*

*Very well Helen.*

I turned to the chopper and opened the doors so fast that they came off the hinges and flew across the parking lot. The occupants tumbled out, cocking their guns and circling round to get their bearings.

I shouted, “Stand down!” Atten-shun, Fall in, shortest on the left, tallest on the right.”

All but one moved to obey, he turned toward me and cocked his gun grinning. I looked him in the eye. He raised his gun and then froze. I walked over and removed the gun from his immobile hands. His fingers snapping off as I broke it from his grip. I gave him a push and he fell with a sound like breaking pottery.

*Molly could you tidy that up please. Space it.*
The remains sparkled and disappeared right down to the last molecule. I felt vindicated —he was about to murder me.

The lined up soldiers had seen nothing — their eyes glazed over in obedience. David was white and shaking. Susan aghast with the revelation that I seemed omnipotent.

A minute or two later men and women started appearing on the tarmac, one with his pants round his ankles — it appears Molly hadn’t waited for him to finish. The looks were panicked but under control, I’m sure I wouldn’t have been in the circumstances, but more credit to them.

“Could you all gather round please.” I called out to them.

They couldn’t work out where they were or what was going on. Until they saw me.
Then some tried to draw weapons (Molly had not transported them) or they became aggressive and started to attack. One or two tried to get the soldiers to shoot me. One even grabbed a rifle from a private. And got a fist for his trouble from the private — I had to grin.

“I’ve called you here today, to give you the news, I’m not vulnerable to your attacks, I have vast resources and a lot of power. I am here to lead this world out of it’s stupid warmongering and disgusting attitude — one which you have well demonstrated today.”

I paused for a moment. I wanted this to stop and I wanted these people on my side but it was a side that didn’t need guns or stealth — it needed openness, kindness and care.

“Sit down all of you please, on the ground if you will. I want to be able to see all your faces. I motioned to the soldiers as well. Presently they were all seated round me.

I called out to Ruth and Paul. “Children come out and present yourselves.” I sent a thought. *Just walk, please don’t float yet.*

Ruth and Paul walked like two miniature grown ups, straight and tall and hand in hand. They were not waddling like babies, they were young people.

A murmur told me that this wasn’t so much a shock as it might have been.

“I would like you to meet Ruth and Paul, two people who will spend their lives in your service. Helping you to come to grips with becoming better humans.”

I rose slightly off the ground while everyone was looking at the kids.

My feet were about a foot from the ground when the first person noticed. It was Susan.
“My God what are you?” The children looked over.

Ruth spoke, “She is my mummy. She is the one person you will take note of in this world. She is the power, she is the leader of all men. She will take us to the stars. She is the most powerful person ever to have lived and you WILL obey her.” As she spoke her voice got louder and louder she rose up several feet and seemed to grow. Then she giggled, sank back down and resumed her wide grin.

“Sorry mummy, I just thought it was so funny.” I shook my head and smiled.

Some of the people sat at my feet were frightened some were in shock. Others were about to panic. None seemed really able to grasp what they were seeing was the beginning of a new world order.

“From this day forward you all work for me.” I paused, thinking; then, “unless you don’t want to work for humanity and reason?”

“Who is in charge of the military? Front and centre if you please.” A rough old sergeant marched round to the front of the troops.

“No Officer?”

“He was here ma’am, I don’t see him now.” That was obviously the idiot who beat my command with his hi-tech ear defenders but not my ire.

“Nor will you again, I am sorry to say. He raised his weapon at me.” I looked around at a lot of guilty looking men and women and quite a few were really worried.

“Andy, please ask each of these gentlemen and ladies for their side arms or rifles if you will?” Some looked defensive, most resigned. “Could you also tend to the two who fell from the cockpit please?” I added as my eye caught them in passing — they looked very unwell.

“I will ask you individually for your allegiance and you will swear duty and honour to me, I shall know if you are lying. If you swear loyalty to me, I shall look after you, if you don’t, you will be back in your office in a trice. If you lie to me, you will die here and now. The choice is yours.
Move off to the other side of the car park and await my call. You may discuss what you will. Any with family, do not be concerned — your family will be with you if you join me.”

I turned away to my seat, I looked at Susan first.
“Would you like to work for me Susan? You’re young enough to really go somewhere. A lot of these guys are too old to change — I’ll have to send them back. Like your erstwhile companion here.” I looked over at David, he seemed almost catatonic. I looked a bit deeper, he was in deep shock. The reality of his world had slipped.

I wiped his memory of me and sent him back.
As he disappeared, Susan nearly screamed. “It’s Ok Susan, he’s back in his office. Honestly.”
She looked at the space where he’d been, disbelieving. I passed her my phone. “Phone him.”

I heard the call connect and a “yes, who is this?” I terminated the connection.
“See?” I smiled, “I’m not a murderer.” Though I did feel guilty for offing those stupid, blind, men.

“Ma’am, these men with broken bones are bleeding internally, we really need to patch them up.” Andy stood by quietly.

*Molly can you fix them from there or do you need them up there?*

*I can beam them up and down in a few seconds they won’t know what happened, I’ll turn off the portroom lights.*

*Right, thanks Molly I’ll give you a signal.*

“Andrew, bring those men before me.” I played it for all it was worth. Andy led them before me. Both looked weak pale and shaky.

“You men deliberately tried to murder me while I was trying to negotiate, you fell foul of my ire. You nearly paid the ultimate sacrifice, but I am not vengeful. I shall restore you. If you will serve me, I will reward you. Will you serve me?” I looked each of them in the eye. ThePilot said “I will serve you.” The other said, “Never.”

*Now Molly, make the one that serves me stronger.*

People were milling around looking at what I was doing. The men flickered where they stood and then became whole again.

My new recruit stood taller by two inches and looked like a poster for the Army Recruitment drive. The one who said ‘no’ was just like his former self just not in pain. He looked very relieved. He came to attention flexing his hand and breathing deeply.

“Stay by me Pilot — and join Susan.”

The murmurs from the crowd (and it seemed a crowd; there were nearly 40 people stood there) were akin to those of cavemen watching a magic show. They didn’t know what to believe.

“Right,” I called, “Who’s next?” looking at the milling and fearful.

“Susan, and you Greg, please go over and tell them to make up their minds or they’ll all be going back to the farm.” It seemed a shame; I would have liked to recruit some more personnel.

Susan and the Pilot Greg walked over to the group who looked at them like they were pariahs. I realised they were too steeped in their own form of power to be able to accept my governance.

‘Right,’ I thought. One by one I looked them over and then called my new duo back to me. “No good, just you two I think, the rest can go back. I called them to line up and as they stood before me I dismissed them.

“You had an opportunity to be the beginning. You had the opportunity to be part of the rebirth of mankind. Now, you will go back to your offices and you will forget what happened here, and you will never trouble me again, you will destroy every piece of information on me that you have. That is an order that you will obey.”

*Molly, send this lot back.* I was quite disappointed. *Could you send the helicopter back as well please.*

One by one they flickered into nothing and eventually the Chopper disappeared too.

*Monitor ASIO comms — and plant a bug would you? — I don’t want to be caught out like that again Molly.*

*Yes Helen, it was quite unexpected. I know ultimately it made no difference, but it should never have happened, I should have been aware of the situation.*

“Right, what to do with you two? Better hop in the car, we’re going on holiday. No, leave the Holden, get in the Ford. *Molly please return the car to the car poo… no, better than that drop it in a deep water trench somewhere*.” The car flickered and was gone.

Susan and Greg looked at each other and at me and Andy and shook their heads. Two hours ago they had been Secret Service operatives, now they had a new job and were going on holiday.
Susan grinned and said, “Yes ma’am.” Greg opened the back door for her and made to follow.
“No Greg, you’re driving. Andy will be in the trailer with the kids. I need to talk to you for a while before you settle in. There’s a lot you don’t know. Oh and there’s a few things I’ve missed as well. We can learn from each other.”

The rest of the holiday went by with not one strange incident.
Susan and Greg decided that as part of my ‘entourage’ they should be minders, but they were aware that they couldn’t mind me as well as the children could.

On the third day I decided to bring them fully into the fold and under cover of darkness, leaving Andy to mind the shop, I took my babies and my new acolytes up to meet Molly.
They needed training and they needed to ‘know’.

“Wecome to Luna Unit 1” Molly beamed as we appeared on the transport plate. Greg looked a little ill.

“Molly are we still having problems with the male of the species on that transport plate?”

“Sorry Helen it’s a scripting bug, some y chromosomes are badly transported, I can fix it if you’ll give me some time. I’m sure it’s not a permanent fault — it just hasn’t been fixed since the previous tenant. Every time I transport a male, it makes an adjustment. Eventually it will sort itself.”

“Very technical Molly” I shook my head. The most advanced machine in 10 parsecs and it has to let the old adage, ‘physician heal thy self’ reassert itself.

Susan looked around at the monitors which showed the lunar surface and Earth rising.
Much like that stupendous photo taken by Buzz Aldrin so long ago.

She squeaked in excitement. The kids hovering just behind her. “Boo!” Ruth said in her ear and giggled. Sue spun round and nearly fell over when she realised Ruth was 4 feet off the ground. “I’ll never get used to that.”

“Molly, do a full workup on our new team members and help them achieve their potential.”

“Yes Helen.”

“What do you mean full potential?” Greg queried knitting his eyebrows.

“Well until last year, I was just another person on the ground until Molly (our host here) found me and I was brought here — then I was told what I could do and set about becoming who I was meant to be.”

I had explained a lot of this during the previous drive after the showdown with the MIB.
I knew that most of it would be taken with a pinch of salt even though they had witnessed the exchange with the ASIO troops and the severe put down.

“Could Sue and Greg please follow the red line to the sick bay please?.” Molly asked brightly. “I shall need them for about 2 hours Helen.”

“I shall be in my state room thanks, c’mon kids, nap time. I’m exhausted.” My babies drifted behind me as I sauntered towards my cabin and mulled over the immediate future.

I have staff, human staff, who know about this base and who Molly will allow back and forth, that I am responsible for. It was progress of a sort. I hope their potential is higher than they are at present. Greg was nice looking, but not mating material — Maybe he’ll hook up with Sue I thought as I turned off the light.

An insistent beeping made me crawl towards wakefulness. Goodness all this excitement sure takes it out of me. I thought as I stretched.
The babies were in the bathroom taking a shower — looking for all the world like Michelangelo’s cherubs. Maybe he knew something we didn’t.

“Would you like my report on S & G now or after breakfast Helen?” Molly quietly asked me from the nearest monitor.

“If it’s not complicated, now is fine — if it needs a reading session, after breakfast.”

Greg’s results are better than Sue’s, they both have some potential but neither attain level 2. Greg is now faster and stronger and has an IQ of 150, Sue is similar, but also has some telekinetic ability. Greg’s big bonus is some telepathy and hypnotic ability.

Helen was happy that she had some company — and suddenly there’s a nice nucleus to start the long slow climb to civilization.

by jenniferchristine

Part 17

We all sat round the table and tried to make some sort of plans for the short term and some for more long term.

Susan came out with one that I hadn’t considered. “How long will I be around?”
Molly hummed and ha’ed and then said trying to keep the embarrassment out of her voice, “Only about 120 years I’m afraid before you start ageing. But you’ll have to come up here quite regularly to get the rejuvenation effects of the transporter.”

“120 years?!!! BEFORE I start ageing? How long will I live then?” Susan was aghast.

“Well,from what I can gather from your chromosomes and the corrections I’ve done, your lifespan should be about 240 years. Some of the damage you’ve already caused in your past have had a detrimental effect on your organs. This may be able to be corrected, but lets not get too far ahead of ourselves, By the time your ARE 240, you’ll not be able to run far and your dexterity will be diminished almost to where it was a month ago.”

Experience of Molly’s tongue in cheek expression made me chuckle quietly to myself as Greg and Susan pondered their now extended futures.

I called an adjournment and we decided that planning could be done on a longer cycle than G & S had initially conceived.

“Andy has picked up some traffic that may be headed your way, would you like to return to your camp?” Molly suddenly announced.

We all looked at each other and decided that it was a good idea. Heading to the port room and grabbing our backpacks. I looked at my watch which I kept on local time in Oz. 6 PM.
Looks like we’d be camping under the stars tonight.

“What sort of company is it?” It suddenly occurred to me that not all company is either desirable or even friendly.

“Motorcycles.” Was the single word reply as we sparkled into infinity and reappeared next to Andy who was setting out a table for the inevitable snacks we’d eat — teleporting always left you hungry as the food in the stomach was transported somewhere else — it was an un salvageable mess and easier to discard.

Sue and Greg were armed with sidearms the children were better armed altogether with minds so powerful that nothing really separated them from Gods.
Helen of course was supremely able to vanish the whole lot of them to the eyes of the passing motorcyclists if she wished but avoiding interaction was not her way.

The noise of the bikes was thunderous as they approached the pool of light round the camper. Helen thought about it and felt disappointed that there was going to be trouble and said to Susan. “If you guys want to watch, please feel free, but if they draw weapons, don’t show yours. None of their weapons will fire. Molly has already disabled them.”

Greg overheard and volunteered use of his new abilities and Sue caught on and said she’d like to have a go with her telekinesis if the opportunity arose.

Helen thought it over for a few seconds as the sounds became louder.

*Fifteen individual cycles Helen.* Molly advised.

“The kids and I will be in the van with Andy, you two do your worst. We’ll be there to bail you out if needed. Worst come to the worst, Molly will remove you from the scene”

The sounds outside dwindled as the bikes lined up with their lights centred on the couple at the table — the extra places had been removed so it looked like only two people were there.

The obvious leader nodded to the camper and one of the bikers propped his bike and went to look in the van.

He appeared a few seconds later — “no one else, plenty for us.”

Sue and Greg had said nothing waiting for the people in the van to be discovered then realised they had made themselves invisible to the searcher.

Sue opened the bidding, “What do you want?”

The leader leered and said, “You’ll do for a start.” and pulled out a .357 revolver aiming it at Greg, “Say goodbye to your lady.”

Greg smiled and said, “What are you going to do shoot me with a chicken leg?”

The leader looked at his revolver and realised it wasn’t a gun at all but as Greg had said it was a chicken leg, he stuck it in his mouth and pulled the trigger. The sound was horrendous. The boom of the cartridge and the whoomp of his head exploding. His mates were flabbergasted. Before the body had slipped to the ground, half of them had reached for their weapons. Four found bananas, two found cucumbers and one found a courgette.
They all looked at their ‘weapons’ threw them away and re reached for their guns — which were already on the ground in front of them. They looked in horror then immediately went for alternatives.

Sue and Greg were still in a very precarious place with 14 guys who had by now parked their bikes and drawn knives or chains and started to advance; until one of the guns on the ground slewed round and fired, catching one of the felons in the knee. He went down screaming. The look on the bikers’ faces was a real Kodak moment. They seemed to stop for a second as if making up a collective mind — only one stepped forward close by where their leader lay fallen nearly headless. His hand still clutching his revolver suddenly rising and firing directly at the moving biker. The round punctured his chest on the left side, exiting his neck on the right side. He fell as if poleaxed.

The standoff was complete.
No one moved.

“Where are you guys from then?” Asked Greg scratching the itch on the side of is nose delicately with an index finger.

“Travellers.” One replied as if in a trance — which of course he was.

“No one knows where you are then?” Sue asked, smiling.

“We answer to no one.” Another replied, as if suddenly getting back his bravado.

“Oh good, we can dispose of you without suspicion then?” Greg completed the thought.

The bikers looked at each other. They hovered unable to either move or make a decision.

“Gonna look good in the papers when they find all your bodies. ‘Bikers fall out and kill each other to a man.’” Sue mused. Another shot rang out from the ground as another pistol seemed to come to life on its own.
The leader’s pistol barked before anyone could move and another dropped, blood spurting from his leg

“We don’t want no trouble mister,” one of them said a note of pleading in his voice.

“Fuck that,” another said and lunged at Sue with his knife which bounced off an invisible wall and ended up stuck in his other arm. The grunt of pain he gave evidence that the wound was not superficial. The man sat on the deck obviously in shock with the knife sticking through his arm. His eyes like saucers looking at the wound as it pumped blood onto the sand.

“looks like you guys are outnumbered.” Greg said pulling out a chair to sit on. He looked at Sue and smiled. Great team work ma’am. They high fived as 9 immobile felons watched in fear.

Helen appeared in the door. “Well done, but we have a little problem now. Molly has just told me that there’s a police unit coming down the highway — about 15 minutes away. So keep the noise down eh? You have 10 minutes to tidy up.”

Sue and Greg didn’t want to kill these guys in cold blood but they needed to be moved to somewhere else and memory wiped.

“Right you guys, back on your bikes and get out of here. Take your dead and injured friends with you.”

They were swift to comply not realising that they were headed for oblivion.

The noise of bikes disappearing into the distance was a relief leaving behind four bikes that had no riders.

Those suddenly twinkled and disappeared. Ten seconds later there was a flash in the sky and a few seconds later a boom as the bikes reappeared in front of the retreating bikes. They had found their erstwhile riders for a final conflagration.

*All bikers are deceased. There’s not enough evidence to piece together how the two dead ones died. Fire is a handy tool.*

The papers read, “Bikers Die in Inferno as Police Look On”
The report read that the bikers swerved to avoid the police car and ended up colliding with each other. None could be saved. The police statement read that the Squad Car had been sent to follow them and ended up witnessing the inferno.

Our band of happy campers moved on the next day — all trace of their having been there removed.

At the debrief, Greg said that he didn’t want to kill anyone — it was just so sudden that the leader had pulled his gun that he’d had no time to do anything else.

Sue too hadn’t realised that outlaws could be so calloused as to shoot without regard at all for consequences.

Helen was sad, but these types were not really suitable for the future and it was probably expedient that they were removed. They all felt that an important point was made. Death was a last option and once decided on, was to be ruthless to protect their party.

They moved on, saying very little for the next day or so until they reached a small town where they could pretend to refuel and restock their camper. The general storekeeper asked if they’d heard about the bikers — They pretended to recall the sound of the explosion that killed the remainder of the brigands.

After a week or two of traveling they felt the circuit had been sufficient to refresh themselves and headed back to the city. Andy parked up the camper in a new rental spot and returned to the apartment where the party were now all situated.

“We’ll have to get you guys some digs.” Helen suggested as they all settled into the pad.
Molly had checked the area for heat sensor and cameras and it appeared that there were none. That didn’t stop Molly from putting passive shielding in place with some extra sensors to pick up new installations.
Over the next weeks, Sue and Greg felt that they were falling for each other and asked Helen if it was possible to have a relationship whilst working with each other.

“That’s a very sensible question and one that only you can answer — remember that you’re the first of a new race of people. You’re going to live quite a long time — do you want to commit to a relationship that might stretch 200 years from now?”

They looked at each other and they both nodded. Greg spoke up. “We both know that we may have other loves, but we’re not going to let that stop us being together now.”

So it happened — they married and bought the apartment two floors down from theirs.

The twins were more than happy as it meant their little band of brothers was bigger and more stable. The group weren’t too big on making waves yet and settled down for the long haul.

They decided on a business which allowed them to process people who may be eligible to grow with the system. They thought of a religion but realised that a’cult’ was not the way to go. So they opened a public relations and personnel firm. Which gave them a simple way of passing people through their hands who could be assessed for their part in the future.

Within two years Helen had a team of fifty people who were going to be a core of civilization. Her babies were growing and had to think of going to preschool or be re assessed with regard to another parenting/social services debacle.

So the personnel company opened a crá¨che of their own — with new personnel for the crá¨che.

Helen kept her eyes open for a mate that could perhaps be suitable for the future time and had a wonderful time trying out a few of them for size.

One day she found a real nice guy who was funny and handsome and very good looking — with that Greek darkness she was quite attracted to. Emile was a minerals expert who had bought up some land that had cobalt and one or two other rare earths. He’d come to her company looking for trustworthy staff, since it was difficult to stake a claim in the area he’d made his discoveries.

Emile and Helen met over lunch, which was the usual way Helen assessed people who needed sensitive staff.

Emile gave off a sense of purpose and energy that Helen very rarely saw and as they discussed his requirements they both realised that they were sparking off each other.

Helen described her company and how it operated and Emile explained why he needed confidence in his staff in bigger quantities than usual.
Molly had listened in and had put out feelers well before the lunch was over.
Helen opened the bidding.
“So Emile, how many people know of your find and how trustworthy are they? These are I know awful questions to answer on the hop and I hope I haven’t stunned you into distrust. I just feel there is something you’re not telling me?”

Emile sat there a moment. “Well I guess there is, but it’s family, they are a lazy bunch and I figure they will feel that they deserve a piece of the action. I’ve already caught my brother going through my stuff looking for the location. Why am I telling you this? I’ve only known you since 11am.” He smiled at her and she put her hands on the table palm down.

“I have to admit to my hypnotic smile. I am successful in my business because I have the ability to make people feel safe.” She smiled again and looked up to the waiter who immediately came over and filled their wine glasses and asked if there was anything he could get.

“See?” she said after ordering dessert. “I command attention without even uttering a word.”

“Well that was remarkable, I didn’t even see you nod or wink.”

“Ooh I never do that, it’s so rude.” Helen laughed and it sounded like the tinkle of Bells to Emile.

“I know that you’ll have my business, but I’d also like your attention a little more, will you have dinner with me?”

“What took you so long?” She smiled and nodded.

“Ooh, so rude.” He said and they both laughed.

Days later, they had secured the site in question with some new recruits from her own team and Emile and Helen were a bit of an item. Helen invited him over for dinner and invited Sue and Greg as well to make it a less intimate sojourn. They had a fun time and Helen introduced the twins to Emile, he took it well considering. And towards the end of the evening even thought it may be a bonus.

The luxury of the apartment and the presence of a butler showed that Helen was no pauper and Emile felt relaxed that he wasn’t being taken for a ride.

They didn’t sleep together that night but Emile knew it was likely to happen in the near future. He was worried about mixing business with pleasure and said so.

“Emile, the staff you hire through me are your staff not mine. If you want to consider your business with me closed, would that be different?”

Emile smiled and said he was happy to do business with her. She smiled and replied robustly that she would not entertain him whilst she was recruiting personnel for him; at least not at the same time
It wasn’t long before Helen had a bigger sparkle in her eye.

The day came when Helen decided to tell Emile about the future — the decision was made after a night of passion and upon the declaration of Emile’s love for her. She could of course tell that he was sincere but she didn’t want to delve into his mind until she was sure of his love and was able to ask him to be her husband.

“Darling”, she started, “There’s something I haven’t told you about me, it’s hard to open up to anyone, but it is for our future and I know that we’re destined to be together for a long time.”

“Don’t tell me, you’re an alien and you want to abduct me to your planet?”

“Nearly right.” She looked him in the eye, he flinched and paled a little.

“Go on,” He visibly gulped.

“I’m not an alien, so the rest can be true if you like without any problem.” She teased. She held his hand and stroked the back with the other. “I love you Emile and want to spend a long time with you.”

“Not forever? he joked.

She looked wistfully at him, “I doubt you’ll live that long, as I will,” She looked in his eye and watched it become at first incredulous then worried.

“That didn’t sound like a joke.” His voice had an edge to it and he looked a little tense.

“Can I begin again? This isn’t coming out right.” Helen pleaded.

“My life is destined for different things Emile, I have been given a gift by the universe which you’ll find hard to understand. I have been told that I am the future of mankind. Your role is to be my consort for as long as that may be. Does that frighten you?”

“In a word yes, because I don’t know where you’re coming from - I can tell you’re sincere and that could be because you’re delusional, but I sense you’re not. Nothing you’ve done over the time since we met has been anything less than perfect. Not one sour note.
That in itself is unusual, like it was engineered. I’m wary.
Tell me more. Convince me you’re different and I will understand, fail and I’m out of here and you’ll never see me again.”

Helen raised her hand and a shimmering in the air suffused around it making it sparkle for a second. When the sparkle stopped, there was a folder in her hand. She handed it to Emile who looked at it like it was a figment of his imagination.
“Ok, good start.” He opened the file it was headed with is brother’s letterhead.
Listed below was a list that spoke of theft of intelligence and avenues of possibility to transfer that to his brother.
“Oh my God, is this real?”
“I’m sorry to say darling, yes it is.” Helen looked stricken for him. “My company has broken into your brother’s systems and dredged out a lot of other information. This is the most important part of it.”

“How — how did that appear in your hand?”

“I have er, um, powers?” she winced slightly and shrugged.

“Powers like making things a-appear in your hands?” His words were not an adequate description.

“Emile, Darling. That’s science, not a power. My powers are different to that.. Oh God this is hard.”

“I know,” she appeared to hesitate. *Ruth, Paul, pop in here a minute will you.*

The twins appeared, walking, since they were aware that Emile wasn’t I the know.

“Yes mummy?” Ruth asked gently.

“What’s the answer to this sum 2,347 times 2,456”
Ruth answered immediately, “5,764,232.”

Emile’s eyebrows rose until they merged with his hairline.

“Ruth is 20 months old.” Helen said pointedly. “Paul is the same and they both have other powers.” As she spoke, both children rose a little into the air.

Emile tried to force his way through the back of his chair. “You ARE aliens!” His voice cracked with not a little terror.

The children sank back to the floor, and looked a little more normal.
“No, we’re all local.” She smiled as she said it and reached out to Emile to hold his hand, which he moved to be further away from her.

Helen closed her eyes as a tear fell from them. “Please don’t be afraid darling, I’m trying to break this as gently as I can. Remember you said if I convinced you you’d understand…”

Emile closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I’m trying to understand… Wha-what is it that you can do — can you fly as well?” He sounded incredulous and frightened at the same time.

“Oh yes, that is one of my powers, as is telekinesis and telepathy. They’re all quite normal in this household. Even Greg and Sue have managed the last two.”

“You mean Greg and Sue are like you?” His eyes opened as he searched her face for the truth.

“Well to a point, but they’re not as blessed as I am.” Helen paused,” You may be similarly blessed, I don’t know yet, until I can get you back to base to have you checked out.”

“Base? Where’s that then, on the moon?” He said with a manic laugh. Then, looking at Helen’s face and her nodding head, slumped in a dead faint, his mind overloaded with fantastic and incredible visions.

“Damn that didn’t go as well as I’d hoped.” Helen muttered as she lifted him and moved him through to their bedroom.

He came round quite quickly and looked around as if worrying that he was already on the moon.

“Will you relax?” Helen admonished. “I love you and I’m trying to propose to you and you’re fighting me every inch of the way.”

“Well it’s too bloody fantastic for words and I’m not sure whether this is real or you’ve spiked my dinner. Floating children and mind control. You’ll be telling me next that Andy is a robot…” He looked round at Andy standing where he could be of assistance if needed; like any good butler would.

“As a matter of fact sir… I am.” Andy smiled gently and spun his gloved hand round a few times. Emile nearly passed out again.

“Andy that wasn’t fair,” Helen chided.

“Sorry ma’am, seemed appropriate at the time.” Andy bowed slightly

A sick laugh from Emile brought Helen back to the point. . “Oh god, Oh god. What’re you going to do to me? Are you going to kill me?”

Helen looked stricken, “Darling NO! I love you, I was born here in Brisbane and I’m just a normal — well supernormal — girl who wants to marry you.” She knelt in front of him tears falling from her lashes.

The man in Emile suddenly grounded and he leaned forward and grabbed her into a hug. “What was I thinking, I’m sorry darling, I’m just a little fraught. I’m weirded out to the point of insanity here — you may understand?”

“Are you beginning to believe me; that I’m not just pissing you about?” The look on Helen’s face was a picture. A mixture of relief and love and cautious optimism passed like small clouds across her face.

She hugged his knees and said. “Will you come with me to Luna base and get checked out?”

He gulped — “where’s your spaceship? When do we go?” He was gripping onto her arms like it should hurt her but Helen didn’t notice.

“We don’t need a spaceship, it works like Star Trek.” She smiled and he laughed sickly, overwhelmed by the thought and scared his beautiful lover had flipped her lid.

*Molly, just us two please, we’d better get this over with.* “Andy will you look after the Children please? Close your eyes Emile, I’ll tell you when to open them.” He closed his eyes, hoping that when he opened them this horrid dream would be over and he’d be back in the arms of his dear Helen.

He found himself on the port plate with his arms round Helen, so he got it half right.

“Welcome to Luna Base Emile”. Molly intoned brightly, “Hi Helen.”

“Hi Molly, Emile isn’t enjoying the ride much, so I’ll pop him down to sick bay and we can check him out.

*Preliminary tests during porting show good genetics Helen, I’ve also eliminated all the toxins he was carrying. This should be a lot of fun.* Molly said privately.

“Come on darling, let’s get you sorted. This may take an hour or two.” She held his hand and led him through the base, the little red line on the floor pulsing as they headed toward the sick bay. His eyes were everywhere, mostly on the monitors that were pointing out into the grey and black of lunar surface. “This is real isn’t it?”

“Oh yes, it’s real, just relax and let your mind absorb what it can and Molly our AI will allow your potential to come forward.

“AI? A real AI?” Emile was more stunned.

“More a mind without a body really Emile.” Molly said from the nearest monitor showing a pretty human face on the screen like a Red Dwarf skit. Emile shook his head and smiled.

Helen saw him smile and thanked fortune that he hadn’t flipped out.
“Test and tune is complete Helen. Your man is quite a guy.” Molly almost whistled.

“Debrief me Molly, leave nothing out.” Helen bit her lip and frowned waiting for not just the good news but also some of the bad that was inevitable.

“Expected age limit not known - minimum 350 years, not quite level 2, telekinesis and limited mind control. No flight, but could be trained to jump well. Strong, but not invulnerable.” All of the good stuff and little of the bad. Good healer. Will be able to recover from all but brain trauma or heart damage.”
I’ve got him a little hypno-drugged so he won’t feel the full effects until you train him how to.
He has an inkling — it’ll be like an itch, but you will have to ‘switch on’ each power as and when he’s ready. It’s too much for him all at once.” Molly tried to be concise and pretty much succeeded.

“Hello pet, how are you feeling?” Helen stroked his face as he came round.

“Is it over? I don’t feel any different.”

“You aren’t any different.”

“So what did you find out? Am I going to be able to play the piano?”

“Do you want to?”

“Well I don’t know, but I couldn’t before, can I now?”

“It doesn’t work like that.” Helen biffed his shoulder.

“How does it work then?” Emile smiled and kissed the face hanging over him.

“Well as you know, I have telepathy.”

“You DO?”

“Of course. Let me try something.” Helen whispered into his mind *Can you hear me?*

Emile’s eyes went round as saucers. “Did you do that? I can hear you in my head.”

*Don’t speak it, just project it as a thought to me.* Helen instructed mentally

*CAN YOU HEAR ME???* Helen winced as the soundless transmission rolled like a thunderclap inside her head.

“Ow, JEESUS not so loud.”

*SORRY*

“Quieter still.”

*Is that better*

*Phew, I’m glad you catch on quick, I could have a real headache very quickly with you shouting like that!* She smiled and kissed him as she thought the message.

*Typical woman, showing off her multitasking skills.* They grinned at each other and Helen pulled him up off the gurney.
*Supper time, come on.
By the way, Molly can be reached the same way — just include her in the thought.*

*Hi Molly, thank you for the new trick.* He projected.

*My pleasure, it goes with all the other ones you’ll discover as time goes by.* Molly replied.

*What did Molly mean by that? Can I do other things?*

*Yes, but she shouldn’t have told you yet, I don’t want to overwhelm you with the situation.*

“What situation?” he said out loud.

“Well it’s not just one or two things, there’s a lot of things.” Helen looked at him to see if it affected his demeanour. He looked a little ashen.

“I’m not sure I can handle too much more fantasy for today. I’m still not sure I’m not dreaming.”

“Well there’s only one more thing I’ll tell you today, your life is not going to be a short one. It’s going to be extended a few times — unless you die from trauma.”

“A few times? What, you mean a few years?”

“Honey, I’m not going to tell you yet. Suffice to say. You’re not going to retire in this century.”

“Give me a break, that’s another 90 years. That’ll make me 120 nearly — I’m retiring in 2050, even if I’m poor. I’m not working my way all the way to my grave.”

“Emile, you’ll still be young in a hundred years. Enough, I’m not telling you any more.”

Emile looked at Helen as they sat eating, she looked radiant and in love, perfect. Then as he looked closer he realised that she was perfect. Not one blemish not one mark.
He ran his tongue round his mouth, feeling for the two chipped teeth he had from football boot trauma in high school. They were smooth to his tongue.

“Do you have a mirror? no forget that.” Instead he looked at his forearm that had been damaged in a cycle accident and scarred for nearly four inches where the gate he hit had impaled his arm. The blue scar was gone, not diminished, gone completely.

He looked up at Helen’s face, “How long? How long do I… ?” His voice tailed off, he didn’t know how to ask the question.

“There is no limit to what we have.” Helen said carefully. “But you’re not superman, you can be killed. So don’t get cocky.”

Tears leaked from his eyes. “Do I say thank you or curse you? Will I outlive my children and watch them all die? Like some Poe story with a picture in the attic?”

“No darling, we are the beginning, we are Adam and Eve. Our children will live longer still and will be healthy and beautiful. Like Ruth and Paul.” She reached out and held his hand across the table. “We are Cronus and Rhea. The parents of the Gods. We shall make this world a happy place and a place of plenty, an example to all the Worlds across the galaxy. And we shall do it together.”

Richard’s Way
Jennifer Christine
 
Prologue
 
As I flopped into the passenger seat I realised that my life sucked.
“Good day at school dear?” Mum intoned using that slightly patronizing voice that mum’s always seem to use on their children.
Almost as bad as using a lacy hanky to wipe your face after an ice cream and using her spit to dilute the crud round your mouth — thankfully that hadn’t happened for a while — though I guess all it would take would be an ice cream to melt inappropriately to find out if it was still likely.

“God mum, this school is awful, why do I have to go? You know I already passed my entrance to Uni and got a four point zero scholarship.”

“Do stop using that awful American slang dear, it isn’t nice.”

“Neither is ‘Do stop’ — it’s tautologically not allowed.” I winced as she clashed the gears and we pulled out into the traffic.

“Well, why do I have to go?” I re- started the conversation which had been craftily sidelined by her illustriousness, my mum.

“Socialisation skills sweetie. Your therapist says they aren’t up to scratch and you’re not going to be comfy at Uni if you can't communicate with your fellow students.”

I groaned inwardly. There’s a lot of things the Uni students aren’t going to accept about me as well as the integration aspect.
At 15 and looking like Hayley Mills in Whistle Down the Wind, I’m not going to be everyone’s idea of Macho Man.

Yeah I know, I don’t look anything like a boy, never mind macho.
Which is why this school thing sucks. I have more bruises on my body than I have clear skin, though I have to admit the bullies are pretty good at making sure none are visible outside my clothing. No one likes a clever dick and I am just that. Clever with a capital ‘C’ .. My IQ is over the top of somewhere north of 165. They keep measuring it and it keeps going up — like my brain is growing or something.

Richard Drury Coombs. It raised a laugh the first time they heard it and after that it was a tool to be used to stab my self worth. Dick Comes. Thanks mum.

As we neared our gate, it started to open as the sensor noted the nearness of the car. You’d think that was a bit fancy and posh, but actually I made it one wet weekend out of a 3mhz walkie talkie and an old printer motor. The house was nothing special. Not to me anyway. It was moderately big, but not for the area. 5 Bedrooms on 5 acres — well dad’s a bank wallah, what do you expect?

“Make sure you stay clean tonight, your aunt and uncle are coming round with the twins. I don’t want them holding their noses as you walk past like last time.” Mum admonished while looking over her long distance glasses at me. Myopic old thing that she is.

“Hey I was experimenting with chicken poo detonators (they didn’t work — well not the way I made them) I didn’t know the stuff was going to erupt like a volcano (seems I still have a lot to learn about chemistry)” I looked at mum and shrugged as I disembarked and quietly shut the door (I wasn’t about to slam it, it was too beautiful and mum loved her little Z3.)

When I got to my room, I dropped my backpack on the case stand in the walk-in and took out my gym kit and popped it down the laundry chute. Grabbed a robe and hit the shower. I hated the smell lingering on my clothes and me. That schooly smell, sort of pencil dust and silverfish shit mixed with Harpic and sweat. EEEeewww.

I spent a little while thinking over the weekend ahead and felt a little disappointed at not being able to spend some time as my alter ego. Well you guessed it not only did I look like Hayley Mills, I felt like her as well. Mum and dad have known for ages that all is not well with me — my therapist has told them that I have ‘issues’ about who I am. Though I don’t think he’s ratted me out about my crossdressing, dad would’ve gone ballistic.

At least I get to spend some time with the twins Angela and Sarah. They’re a year older than me and very pretty — but not terribly bright — well they’re average, but not in my league.

After I got dressed I decided that discretion being the better part of valour, I’d go down and be ‘available’ when the family arrived. I guess they’d be here all weekend as I noticed the pool cover was off and I could hear the pool pumps humming from my bathroom which was adjacent to the pool house. They don’t bother normally until Saturday if it’s a normal weekend.

Creatures of habit my folks.

“Hi, Rich,” my uncle grabbed my hand and shook it vigorously. “How ye doing?”

“Fine Unc.” I nodded my head, exaggerating the movement of my arm which was still being pumped. The twins grinned and finger waved. Fine looking girls that they are.

“Good…. Good.” With nothing more to say worth recalling, he wandered off looking for a glass and some whisky. Mum had it ready as I heard him sigh as he entered the lounge and the tinkling of ice confirmed his grip around the cold reviver.

I flopped onto the couch where the twins had already ensconced themselves and grabbed for the TV remote. Angela was quicker and grabbed it first. “Na-na. Beatcha.” Sticking her tongue out.

“How old are You?” I rolled my eyes and grinned. Her free hand holding me away from the remote, slipped down my chest and rested over my breast before I could stop it.

Suddenly her eyes went saucer shaped — “Richard!” She almost yelled.

“Shhh — keep it down for Christ’s sake.” I went red and grabbed for her hand which was probing my torso.

“My God Rich, what have you done? You’ve got boobs.” She stage whispered — Sarah got interested fast.

Doomed — Oh God — Oh God! I’ve been trying to keep it a secret (obviously).
Right. Think.

I grabbed Angie’s wrist and gently removed it from where it was squeezing, “Please don’t Ang, it’s a bit sensitive at the moment.” I hesitated. “Christ, I hope you guys like me enough to keep a secret?” I turned the prayer into a question.

They both nodded with conspiracy written all over their faces, while I tried to get some air into my lungs and stop the prickling of new tears behind my eyes — I didn’t want red eyes — mum would think I was on pot — she’s really against that….

“My room, now,” I urged desperately, slipping off the couch and turning towards the door.

“Nice tush too,” Ang giggled. Last thing I wanted was one of the ‘units’ to hear.
“For God’s sake, keep it down.” I opened the door and checked the hall.

“We’re just going up to my room to play some music mum,” I shouted.
“Ok, not too loud, I want you to be able to hear when I call — I don’t want to have to phone you to get your attention, like last night.” Mum instructed as per. I was surprised she didn’t add, ‘leave the door open’.

“And leave the door open.” Guffaws from uncle and ‘fat chance’ accompanied the additional unnecessary codicil.

“Come on, let’s get this over with.” I ascended, trailing the twins.
I put the stereo on loud enough to cover conversation but quiet enough so we could hear approaching steps.

“So what’s going on Rich?” Sarah quizzed quietly looking at my chest for signs of unnatural shape.

“Well I wanted to declare this as a fait accompli when I was 16 — next month, but it looks like I have no alternative but to include you in my plans.” I looked from one to the other.
“I’m going to tell you this on the understanding that you don’t divulge any of it until after my birthday. Is that understood?” I searched their faces for signs of plot shifting.

Sarah and Angie both held out their Pinkies in synch. “Pinkie promise.” They said, also in synch. I shook their pinkies and settled on the bed they sat on the long stool at the dresser.

“Well, here’s the story.”
**********************************************
OK folks….. DO I continue?
There’ll be a gap of a couple of weeks until I’ve got a fair bit done if you want to read more.

Richard's Way
by Jennifer Christine
Part One

Part one.

I looked from Sarah to Ang and back. They were leaning forward like they were about to set off down a piste.
“Hey relax, will you? This is the long version, I’m going to use you guys as sounding boards now that you’re on ‘the inside’.” I wasn’t sure how to start, so I tried to be flippant.

“Once upon a time,” I started.
“Give us a break already; just cut to the chase. What’ve you been up to and how long?”
Sarah looked liked her mum, Sandy (Alexandra) all gossip and eagerness.

“Ok. The short version?” They both nodded in affirmation of their desire to know the details of their cousin’s ‘stepping over the line’, which this obviously came under.
“Right. I’ve been seeing a therapist for depression, you knew that?” Nods. “Well, he was telling me all about the difficulty of my socialization, because I didn’t fit in mentally and physically with the norm for my age. There was some garbage about going out for a sport and trying some group activities then he said, ‘the best thing you can do is go back to school.’ I suggested he do something that involved solitary carnal acts.” The girls looked askance, then, when they interpreted the phrase, giggled on cue.

“Well then I asked him about his duty to my parents and whether I had his doctor/patient confidentiality or did he report to my parents. He told me that unless my life was in danger he could assure me of secrecy. Like you two are doing now?” Nods. I smiled.

“Right; I told him that I felt like I looked. He said nothing. ‘You know — like a girl.’ He said nothing — obviously wanting me to fill in the blanks. I said, ‘I think I am a girl, in here,’ pointing to my head.

“What makes you say that?” He arched his fingers at me and I really got shitty.

“Because my dad wants sex with me,” I rolled my eyes when he sat bolt upright. “Your body language is showing.” I was getting angry — “Of course my dad doesn’t want sex with me, you burke.” He started to look mildly annoyed and wrote something on a sheet in front of him.”

The twins giggled.

“Anyway, when he realised I was jerking his chain, he told me to settle down and be careful what I said. ‘Not all the things people say as taunts are fabrications, most of them harbour truths that can be dredged out.’ He really was a bit pissed at me. I apologised and he looked a bit more attentive.

‘Go on,” he said, “Why do you think you’re a girl?’

‘Because I’m not really a guy — am I? I look like a girl, yeah I know my hair is short and I’m wearing boy’s clothes, but if you look at my face and build, it’s girlish, isn’t it?’

‘Well a little underdeveloped I suppose,’ he admitted. ‘But not unusual in 14 year olds.’”

Sarah piped up, “You mean this was over a year ago?”

“Oh yes, sorry I should have said. Moving on. The outcome was, he changed his tack and from there he started to make headway where he hadn’t before. Eventually he told mum that I was in recovery and that I should enroll in School for a year before I went to Uni -. Which was all very well but he wouldn’t give me any help with the gender thing. He told me that 16 was the youngest they’d countenance anything and I couldn’t have surgery til I was 18 anyway.”

“Surgery????” they squealed in unison.

“Well you know, down there,” pointing at my nether regions.

They went pale, “You want surgery, like cut it off?”

“Well they invert it actually and remove the testes, but not until you’ve been living in role for two years.”

“In role? What? Like, as a girl?” Sarah went all silly and giggled behind her hand.

“Noooo, as a Horse… Of course as a girl, you nitwit.” I chided.

“It doesn’t explain the breasts and what’ve you got covering them up. It felt like a bandage? Angie pursued.

“I can’t very well parade around swing honking great tits now can I?” I was getting a bit exasperated.

Sarah’s eyes went round, “Christ, how big are they?”

“About a B, well almost,” I acceded. “They will be soon anyway.”

Angie looked at me, “I wondered why you hadn’t started your growth spurt puberty thing, you’ve been on hormones haven’t you?”

“Well DER.” Sarah laughed, looking at me she continued, “Where’d you get them, what’re you taking?”

“Even my therapist doesn’t know, he thinks he’s holding me in check with the power of his mind and suggestion, I’ve actually ‘suggested’ to him that he’s right and he thinks he’s winning! What a dill.” I shook my head.
Leaning over to my bookcase I reached into the DVD rack and took out a DVD case — “Groundhog Day” it read. I opened it and showed them the sheets of HRT in there.

“I’ve got some more downstairs in the garage with my bike stuff,- I bought it bulk when we were in Spain last year— no one would look in there. I’ve also got some testosterone blockers to stop me turning into a bloke. Jeez I had some nightmares last year when my voice got croaky — thankfully it was a cold — I thought I was done for. In the meantime mum and dad think I’m a slow developer and they’re quite happy for me to be top of the class and a weed — they’d rather brains than brawn.”

“Do you dress up?” Sarah smiled at me.

“Not much opportunity but I’ve got some stuff up in the dormer next to the gym - It’s only used for storage - so I can get some ‘girl time’ now and then.” I looked a little sad and Sarah came over to the bed and put her arm round me. I looked into her eyes and she was really empathetic. Tears were really stinging at my eyes now. One or two surfaced and rolled down my face.

“It’ll be ok, we’ll look after you, won’t we sis? We’ll get you over for slumber parties.”
Sarah wiped at my tears with her finger.

“Besides, you really need to get out.” Ang added.

“Can we see?” Ang nodded at my chest. I nodded and a little reluctantly lifted my shirt, the ace bandage showed through my singlet — I lifted the singlet and pulled the bandage up.

Angie’s eyes went round as plates. “Wow, they’re bigger than mine. I thought you were building up pectoral muscles, they’re all boob!”

“KIDS! Dinner time.” Dad’s voice penetrated the room like a foghorn. D flat!

I jumped and pulled my clothing back in order and we turned off the music and headed downstairs. I wiggled my pinkie at the girls and they both nodded. I smiled and hoped that it was enough.

“So what have you three been up to up there, you were very quiet?” Dad looked at me to see if I squirmed, how thick does he think I am to give myself away with body language?

“We decided to have a threesome — we just finished when you called us down, so that’s ok,” I smiled at him. Uncle Brad laughed and reiterated his earlier statement “fat chance.”

“Mum looked at the girls who weren’t as good at hiding emotions and frowned. The girls were blushing and couldn’t meet her eye. Mum’s eyes glimped over to mine and she tried to discern what I was hiding with the power of her mind — no chance — not in this lifetime mum. I smiled at her and poured myself a juice.
General hubbub ensued as we dished out the dinner. I occasionally caught mum looking at me oddly. Did she know something? I dismissed it. I shouldn’t have.
Generally after a family meal the ladies retire to the lounge and the men to the den where the pool table and cinema were. Tonight was no different. Though I really wasn’t in the mood. My revelations with the twins were unsettling me a bit and I found an excuse to retire early.

Before I could settle down to reading my book ‘Pride and Prejudice’ (again) the twins knocked and came in.

“We just came to say goodnight and to let you know we’re on your side and we’ll keep your secret. We brought a peace offering.” Angela held out a satin nightdress. It was oyster coloured with a square yoke and broad comfy looking shoulder straps — I loved it.

“Better not, someone is bound to catch me, sod’s law.” I smiled, looking longingly at the garment. “Catch you in the morning” They smiled and pulled the door shut as they left.

I was just brushing my teeth when there was a knock on the door.
“Yush a mini, mm fhrushing eye teesh,” I shouted through.
Mum opened the door and stepped into the room to wait for me, I hear the door click shut.
Checking my pjs were covering my knockers, I sauntered through into the bedroom.
“Oh hello mum, whazzup?” I had no idea why she was here….unless.

“Just why did the twins look so guilty when we asked what you were doing?” Mum looked fiercely into my eyes, trying to see the guilt which I didn’t have showing.

“Lord, I don’t know, they giggle and simper like most girls, perhaps they were thinking what they might have done with me in my room ….Eeeww, they’re my cousins, that’s like so gross.” I used my guile carefully. Mums are cluey about stuff like fibs and white lies.

“Well it all seems a bit suspicious to me.” She kept up the glimping at me. Looking me up and down.

“Christ will you stop it already, we didn’t touch each other. I’m not into that sort of thing.”

“What? You mean you’re gay?” Looking for a chink…

“Mu-um, I’ll say it again — they’re my cousins. I find the idea particularly obnoxious and a bit kinky to say the least. I am not gay, nor am I into drugs, contraband or other odd, illegal, immoral or frowned upon habits, indulgencies or pastimes, ok?” I was getting vexed now.

“Well I’ll let you off for now then.” Mum rose from where she’d parked her behind and walked to the door.
“Let me off WHAT? I haven’t done anything (not much I hadn’t!!).”

“We’ll see; you’re hiding something, I can tell you know, I can always tell.” She stepped through the doorway and pulled the door to. “Goodnight Richard.” She smiled at me as the moving door edge obscured her face.

I plonked onto the bed; that was really bad, those twins hadn’t said anything, yet mum was right on my case. Did she already suspect? Nah — not possible — was it?

I tossed and turned for quite a while that night before I succumbed to Morpheus’s call.

The twins spent quite a while in the pool over the weekend and for once didn’t tease me about my lack of swimming ability and try to entice me into the water.
(This was a phurphy — but let’s face it I couldn’t pop into the pool in my bathers with a set of jugs like I had — could I? — even a T-shirt would have been quite eye popping — considering wet T-shirts are nearly invisible and are used for titillation — sorry bad choice of word — in female denigration contests the world over. Where was I?)

“I do wish you’d join in more dear,” mum looked at me over the top of her gin glass. “The girls would love to have you play with them.” She coloured up. “I mean love to — um- appreciate you joining in.” Suddenly angry at her own foolish words, she went into the house to sort the lunch.

Uncle Brad grinned and shook his head, but didn’t turn to meet my eye. Sandy sighed and took another sip of her Chardonnay.

“BBQ’s hot,” dad called out to mum — who appeared with what looked like a whole cut up steer and a medium pile of chicken pieces on a plate. Over the top as usual. Never mind — Dad was excellent on the grill — he loved to cook far more than he loved to do the Bank thing, but he was pragmatic — he made a lot of money banking and he’d make a good chef in a small restaurant — which would you choose?

So it went on — you get the idea — wealthy family, too much spare time. At least dad didn’t like Golf. I sensed not one of those present were particularly happy except maybe the twins and they were almost trapped between two lines of stereotype.

When the twins and I got together later with the parentals out of the way playing bridge in the sun lounge Sarah, checking said units were all engaged in bidding, got back onto the subject she was interested in.

“We were talking last night and we were wondering if you had a name we could call you? Like a girl name?”

“There’s no way I’m going to tell you that, because no matter how you tried, you wouldn’t be able to resist the urge to use it at the wrong moment.” I paused to draw breath. They interjected.

“No, no, honestly, we promise, we wouldn’t do anything like that. Please tell us.”

“You wouldn’t want to do it — it would just happen, because names are an autonomic response. You think of someone and their name comes out and if you think of me, my name wouldn’t be Richard, it would be…..something else.” Jeez I nearly did it myself.

“Spoilsport.” Angela pouted.

“No, really. Self preservation. I don’t want to be packed off to a military school to make a man of me — it’s too late for that. I’d be shagged stupid by half the cadets. You haven’t seen me with long hair — I daren’t even let my hair grow to normal length, the show (my life) would be over quicksmart.” I was trying to explain to the twins but it wasn’t getting through — they’d known me all my life — they didn’t process me as a girl in their head.

“Look, I’ll show you. Come with me.” I shouted out of the lounge towards the sun lounge. “We’re just going up to the Gym. We’ll be down in ten minutes.” Yes, I have to be that careful.

We slipped up the stairs to the second floor and I opened the door to the storage area which was in fact quite a large room with a skylight. I lifted a box out of a T chest and flipped open the lid, revealing a styrene head with a wig on it.

“Wow you’ve even got a wig.” Sarah’s eyes bugged out.

“No, it’s not mine, it’s mum’s from when she used to act at uni ( she did drama until she married dad - now she IS a drama). I must admit though I do borrow it now and again.
I walked over to the floor mirror sitting in the corner, (one I have spent many hours looking into) to make sure I got the brunette wig on straight — there’s nothing worse than a wig not on right. When it was set, I turned with a flourish.

The girls just stood there unable to make a sound.

“See the problem now?” They nodded in synch (I wish they wouldn’t do that.), still not making a sound. I removed the wig and put it back in the box and we went back out into the Gym. I showed them over the programmable exercise bike and demonstrated it — cover story.

Good job I did, I was just getting off it when mum wandered nonchalantly in as if it was nothing to creep up two flights of stairs to spy on your kids. “I was just going to make some sandwiches for supper — would you like some?” Excuses, excuses.
She pretended to be ‘just passing’ as she swept the room with her eyes for ‘evidence’ of our illicit goings on.

“I would like a sandwich actually,” I said, “do we have any turkey breast, it’s my favourite?”
The girls caught on really quickly and followed it with requests for a BLT (Bacon lettuce and tomato) and Sarah went all out and asked for a club sandwich.

“Right,” Mum glowered at us, spun on her heel and went back downstairs. I had to grin and shake my head. “Sorry girls, she’s like that sometimes, I’m sure she suspects something but has no idea what to look for for clues.”

“Our lips are sealed,” Ang used the zip gesture across her mouth. “Mmmm, BLT here I come.” We headed down.

Later when the oldies had gone back to their game, after the sandwich break, Angela reopened the conversation.

“I’ve got to say you looked smashing with the hairpiece on. It’s the wrong colour for you, but you looked stunning and with no makeup or anything.”

“Hey, if we could organize you to stay over with us for a weekend, I could borrow a decent hairpiece from the drama department and we could really see what you come out like.” Sarah started to get animated.

“Sorry girls, not going to happen until I get to my 16th birthday, I get more human rights then. Up to that point, I could end up with a testosterone booster shot and a padded cell til my balls dropped. I’m not going to take one more risk until then. There are some things I can get away with and some that are just asking for trouble.”

The girls looked disappointed and I could understand why, they’d just got themselves a project that they would love to work on for the next 6 months.
But I’d done all the working out and unless I was unlucky, the way things were going, I could come out in a month and be home free (and female) in a couple of years never having reached male puberty at all.

“Ok Rich, we’ll wait, but just wait til your birthday!” The look from both of them would have done the Wicked Witch of the West justice.

At that point it seemed the evening was over and everyone prepared to say goodnight and head home. I hugged Aunt Sandy goodnight as usual, shook Unc Brad’s hand and we all headed out to the cars to wave goodbye. Aunt Sandy gave me a funny look.
I hugged the girls as they prepared to get in the car. Ang suddenly said quietly in my ear. “I can feel your bandage” Bugger…….

“Our Turn next weekend,” Sandy reminded, turning the key and bringing the Rover to life — I love the sound of V8s.

Sandy glanced at me again with a slightly concerned look as she put the Rover in gear and circled the ornamental pond in the middle of the drive. We waved as the gate closed behind them and went inside.

“Night mum, night dad.” I headed straight for the stairs. The tension had worn me out.

“Night son,” dad gripped my shoulder as I passed, I almost lurched out of his reach. What’s with these people touching me tonight?

I locked my door and went to shower — reaching under my pillow for my PJs, and coming out with a handful of oyster satin…. Jeez. I came over all sweaty. I wonder how long ago the twins put that there.

Richard's Way
by Jennifer Christine
part 2

School was a bit of a trial as I didn’t actually have to do any work, I had social studies and all those esoteric subjects that are normally reserved for mentally challenged students so they could be graduated without actually knowing anything. History and Geography could be as interesting as I made them — I’d done my A level (Uni entrance type level) when I was 14 and got a top grade. I’d done French as well and of course maths and the sciences I’d done at 13. They were really easy. I was only at school for socialization which was almost impossible seeing as how I was not allowed into the girl section of the school until I was a senior and they wouldn’t let mebe a senior until next term — I had to work my way up — so I was stuck with a bunch of smelly and spotty pubescent boys, who giggled at rude words and were full of testosterone.

“Come on Dick wad, show us how good you are at arm wrestling.” Three or four of the class bully’s cronies laughed at the idea of me being able to beat Slasher Thomson — he was about 100lbs and 6 inches wider and higher than I.

“Ok,” I said and sat with my arm ready at a convenient desk, Slasher looked surprised then immediately sat opposite me with his back to the door — his cronies stood at his shoulder.

“One, two, three, go!” Just as he said “Go” I looked up at the door and said, “oh, sorry sir” (arm wrestling was a no no) Slasher’s muscles immediately went limp and I crashed his arm to the desk. “I win”. Smiling I rose and walked away. The door was shut and no ‘sir’ appeared in it.

A badly aimed text book sailed over my head. “Oi that’s my book,” one of Slasher’s mates exclaimed. I knew it wasn’t over, but it was good to use brains over brawn.

Who’d want to socialize with thugs like that anyway?

Gym was always fun — I played badminton since I had no curriculum to maintain. I just had to do a couple of hours a week. The other fifth formers were annoyed as they had supervised classes and had to exercise properly — well I didn’t want to chip my nails, did I?

The guy I played badminton with was a weedy guy called Martin Eckineh — I think he was Sri Lankan by heritage but had a Liverpool accent you could use to cut cheese, a hard one like Parmesan!
I think he was even more girlish than I was, except he had a todger that a mare would shy away from and it occasionally slipped out of his pants when he dived for a shuttlecock.

I asked him one day, “Did you dive for the shuttlecock or trip over your own?” His skin wasn’t so dark you couldn’t see the blush.

Well that about covers school except Slasher clouted me across the back with a cricket bat later in the day “demonstrating” a cut shot to his mates. I’d seen it coming and I moved so it hit my back, square on, which was covered with three layers of clothing and my ace bandage. So it made me cough and splutter but no harm done. He thought he’d got me a good one, so did Mr Swan who decided it was deliberate and issued Slasher and his mates (for laughing) with a five page essay on ‘doorknobs’.

Mum picked me up as usual and we headed off to the Coombs residence.
“I spoke to Aunt Sandy today,” mum started. Now this could be inane chatter, but it sounded like a more focused start to a conversation. I gulped mentally — scratched my cheek absently, (physically — to show non interest.)

“Oh yes? What did she have to say? Did she forget something last night?” Feigning disinterest.

“She mentioned that when she hugged you last night,” (uh Oh) she paused to manoeuvre round a badly parked truck (that’s an English spelling folks and is not a typo) . “She felt something on your back like padding?”

“Guilty as charged, it was a bandage,” I volunteered, thinking fast.

“A bandage, are you hurt?” Mum sounded really quite agitated.

“Well a bit bruised, one of the bullies who is helping to ‘socialise’ me hit me across the back with a bat” No lies there and she can phone up and check. “I just used the bandage to pad it a bit so it wouldn’t hurt.” One small lie there.

“Oh darling, I am sorry, I wish you didn’t have to go to that awful school — it’s your dad that really wants you to go you know on the recommendation of your therapist. Can I see the bruise when we get home?” She glanced at me out of the corner of her eye to gauge my reaction.

“Sure, if you must.” Nonchalant as ever.

So while mum parked the car, I whipped into the downstairs loo and stripped off my bandage, leaving my pullover and shirt and singlet in place. When she came through to the hall I made a show of sliding my clothing up and bunching it on my chest (covering up my unusual pectorals!!) That left most of my back bare and mum could see the bruise of the bat across my back.

“Oh that’s horrible, I’m going to ring that school and give them what for.” Heading straight for the phone.
I let down my shirt and slunk off to my room. Once there I slipped on a seriously tight singlet — one with a lot of lycra in it. It really flattened me out up front and then slipped on a sweat top — a nice loose one!

I could hear mum ranting down below, “My son came home with a huge bruise across his back; what do you have to say about that?”

“Those animals are only getting an essay to write, what sort of punishment is that? I expect you to expel them for such behaviour.”

“No I won’t leave it to you, I expect you to inform me when they have been expelled or I shall take proceedings against, not only them, but you as well. Is that UNDERSTOOD?”

Apparently it was, the phone went down with a clang.

Mum came upstairs and knocked on my door, “are you decent dear?”

“Yes mum,” I answered brightly and innocently.

“They said they only gave them an essay to write, that’s abominable, I’ve told them I expect them to be expelled; you could have punctured a lung.”

I looked at her with sudden illumination, she was right, what I was passing off as a prank could have been very dangerous if I hadn’t reacted and hadn’t been padded. A tear sprang to my eye uncalled and slipped down my cheek. I wiped it away surreptitiously, I’m a girl, not a sissy. I’m lying through my teeth and getting away with it — which is worse?

Mind you, they did hit me hard enough to bruise my back through all that clothing, I’m amazed I’m not really sore now. Another tear leaked out, Mum spotted that one and came over and hugged me.

“There there, pet, You pop down and grab a coke and I’ll make your favourite for tea.”

“Wow, lobster thermidore?” I gasped theatrically.

“No you prune, spaghetti Bolognese.” She sighed exasperated.

“That’s dad’s favourite not mine.” I chided. Almost pouting. (I’m not keen on red meat.)

“What would you like then, and don’t say lobster, I haven’t got any in the freezer.” Oh the horror, we have no lobster!

“Chicken Schnitzel with noodles and mushroom sauce then, please.” And no, I’m not a ‘Sound of Music’ fan!

“That I can handle!” She smiled and left me to it.

I’m beginning to feel guilty and I’m beginning to lose the will to be secretive. I hope I can steel myself long enough to make it to my birthday, I have no contingency plan for total parental control — and I can bet Sandy will have a hand in my demise. Oh I didn’t say did I?
Uncle Brad is a Surgeon and Aunt Sandy is a lawyer. Mum dabbles in real Estate and daddy has the bank… Perhaps I could be Annie and ….no not a good thought- I have no desire to be an orphan. If I did, I’d probably be out of here by now.

I heard dad’s car arrive as I walked down the stairs. I looked in the mirror at the bottom to check I wasn’t protruding overmuch, hunched over slightly and met him as he came out of the garage into the hall. “Hi pop.”

“Ted, could you come in here for a minute darling?” Oh dear — I wish she’d let it drop.

“Yes dear, what’s the problem?” There obviously was one or dad would be allowed to go and change straight away.

“I’m not having Richard go back to that horrible school, not one day more.” The anger in her voice was layered with the no nonsense and no answering back tone.

“Oh, and why is that, my sweet?” Code for ‘who are you telling that to?’

“He was struck by a cricket bat across the ribs and the culprits only got an essay to write. I rang the head and demanded he expel the perpetrators or I’d sue the pants off him.”

Dad looked over at me and raised his eyebrows quizzically. I nodded and shrugged in answer to say yes. “And why did they do that son?”

“Because he’s 100lbs heavier than I and his cronies would and did think it amusing.” I answered truthfully if a little vaguely.

“Then I am all in agreement. Going back there is pretty much an exercise in futility anyway and you can be learning reality and earning a living instead of aimlessly being the victim in others’ pranks.”

Things were looking up, I really think that I might be out of that place for keeps.
“Thanks dad, that sounds excellent. Perhaps I should advertise myself as a computer tech — I could really make some good cash at that.

“That wasn’t quite what I meant, - summer is coming on and I think you could do a lawn mowing round — it’ll build you up and give you some muscles in that skinny frame — maybe even send you off to a military academy for a semester..”

“I’ll go back to school then thanks. I think my virginity would last about 40 seconds in a military academy.” I looked him right in the eye.

He blushed, “You’re not that attractive.”

“I would be in a boys only environment. How was it at your school, weren’t the weeds buggered daily?” I asked, injecting a bit of venom to make him squirm.

“Of course not,” He swallowed — I caught the swallow.

“Too close to the truth eh — what was it, weekly after chapel?”

“That’s quite enough of that Richard; times have changed, that doesn’t happen any more.” I’ve never seen him try to dismiss a subject so fast.

“Not much it doesn’t, get real dad.” Putting in the spur.

“Well, we’ll see, I want a word with that headmaster first; see what the hell’s going on.” He turned for the stairs to go get changed.

I stepped further into the kitchen to raid the fridge.

“You shouldn’t be so hard on him; he’s not in touch with the real world you know.”

“I gathered that.” I shook my head and popped the tab.

“Dinner in 15, don’t make me come and find you.”

“K.”

Dinner was quiet, Dad wasn’t really coming to terms with what happened and tried to quiz me — I just shrugged and passed it off.

“Do you want to grow up a weakling Richard? You’ll have to get a grip, no one respects a man who can’t hold up his end physically.” Dad really was trying to be fatherly.

I wiggled my eyebrows at the last remark and he sighed. “Not at the dinner table son.”

I ate my lovely schnitzel and smiled at mum. She smiled back and we carried on quietly.

Later dad looked at me over his paper. “How old are you now, 16?”

“Next month dad. 28 days from now.”

“You’re very small for your age son, have you had a check up…. Physically?” He nodded at my groin area.

“Yes dad, every 6 months, I’m due another in about 6 weeks” — ‘by which time I’ll be my own boss and you won’t be able to do a thing.’ I added mentally.

The next day dawned and mum said, “I suppose you’d better go to school, until dad sorts out the problems.” She was trying to be parent-like but failing.

“No, I don’t think so — I’ll go back if those thugs have been removed, but there’s no chance of me turning up and getting lathered by them for dobbing them in.” I put into my voice finality that there was no possible argument that would induce me.

“Yes, you’re right of course. I’ll see what can be done but it’ll mean you’ll be at home all day today, can I trust you?”

“That’s the most insulting statement you’ve made these last six months. I’m nearly sixteen years old with an IQ which is probably similar to the total of the rest of the school put together. 165 at last count. Just - pray tell, what possible problem there could be? I’m all attentiveness.”

She glimped at me, “There’s always something boys of your age get up to.”

I looked at her as it dawned on me what she meant. “You think I’m going to masturbate all day? Get a grip mother, If I did it would take all of 5 minutes and I could, if so inclined, which I’m not, perform that while having a shower every morning.” That was a lie really, I couldn’t even get an erection. Not full of girl juice anyway!

She flushed and turned away, “Well, I wouldn’t know, I’m sure.”

“So am I mum, so am I. Sure that is.”

So they left me home and I pleased myself. I even briefly tried on the nighty that the girls had given me. I’d put it in the drawer in their room like they’d left it behind. It smelt lovely, like soft and warm. Quite depressing really — time stands still when you need it to spin.
I spent some time on the computer researching autonomy and self emancipation. Had I sufficient capital I could do it at 15 but at 16 I could go on benefits. However I’m not sure what I’d do if I had to. I’ve been used to the easy life, parents financing my upbringing. I needed to get through college and I needed to have my op — I had enough for neither — though I did have a scholarship to Oxford due to my noodles being so beneficially constructed. It would still cost and I couldn’t go into girl digs without backing.

Things were still up in the air. I needed my op and I needed it fairly soon to be able to continue my life as it should be. I needed my folks too, I may give them grief, but I still loved them dearly and would miss them terribly if I had to leave home (or got kicked out).

When they got home, I’d made a pineapple upside down cake and concocted a reasonable chicken curry with all the trimmings — so they were reasonably pleased and dad even said, “If you’re going to feed us like this, perhaps you should be our O’pere.” Sadly it was in jest, but I smiled like it wouldn’t be a burden and told them I’d get a maid’s uniform directly. Mum glimped at me…… shudder — she’s a real martinet inside! She probably thinks I’m a crossdresser now. Like the bloody therapist. I wish I’d told him I was totally gender stuffed. It might have been easier, and with a better outcome.
On the other hand it might have been a reportable thing and I’m sure Dad would and will throw a fit with his leg in the air when he finds out.

I’m still trying to work out how to tell them really — it’s one of those things that has no definitive answer. It comes out, then one or other or both or neither throw a fit and you’re either swamped in hugs or swamped in poverty — maybe somewhere in between, but it polarizes people — and I’m sure dad will go up the pole even if mum doesn’t.

Inevitably the week drew to a close with nothing further being discussed or discovered; stasis.
“We’re off to Brad’s this evening, so pack some things while we’re out and mum’ll pick you up when she finishes up at work. OK?” Dad enquired of me at brekkers on Friday.

“Sure, do you want me to bake a cake to take or something?” I asked feeling like there was something I could be doing.

“Good idea, I’ll ring Sandy and ask if there’s something you can make for supper — you’re getting to be a nice little cook.”

I ended up making an apple pie and some shrimp cocktail.
I packed minimal stuff — that tight lycra singlet was doing good things and I decided I liked it better than my ace bandage. And it was less likely to draw attention when hugs were performed.

It was lucky really, as when we arrived Sandy gave me a big hug and surreptitiously rubbed her hand up and down my back. “Bruises all gone?” She enquired — glimping a bit like her sister.

“Yes thanks, I didn’t want anyone to know and it’s one of the reasons I didn’t go in the pool.” Covering my bases.

“You should be in court.” She was not convinced. “There’s many a slip twixt cup and lip.” She smiled slyly at me and went to hug Dad.

I looked over at the twins, they coloured up so fast that I knew secrets had been spread further than they were supposed. Well maybe this was a better way than having to find the words myself.

I went over to the twins, “Spilt any milk lately?” Sarah immediately leaked a tear.
“No use, non at all. How?”

“Tell you later,” Ang put her hand on my arm and squeezed gently. “It wasn’t Sarah’s fault.”

It wasn’t til after supper that we had the opportunity to swap stories about the last week.

Sarah was all apologies and contriteness. “I am so sorry, but I managed to swear mum to secrecy.” She tried to cover her guilt with face saving.

“Tell me what happened. We’ll see how much damage control we can muster.” I sighed.

Ang started. “Well when we got home, mum said something about feeling a bandage on your back. We said ‘really?’ but she wasn’t convinced, we said you’d told us a secret and we couldn’t say. Well mum respects that being a lawyer, she said, ‘as long as no one is hurt by it and it’s not illegal.’”

Sarah continued, “Well that was when I said, ‘it certainly isn’t illegal.’ Mum picked up on it and thought about that and started quizzing about tattoos. “Nothing like that,” I said, which I shouldn’t have, as she was able to eliminate a lot of things with that statement.”

“It was later when mum said something about you not growing much for a 16 year old that she suddenly looked at Sarah and said something about your voice not breaking yet. Sarah coloured up straight away and mum got the connection. She’s pretty cluey; we said we’d tell her as long as she didn’t tell Aunty Liz or dad”

“She didn’t promise, but she did indicate it hung on what you said this weekend.” Ang finished. Goose totally cooked.

“I’m really sorry; it really can be shitty when your mum is a lawyer. You’ve no way of getting round the truth without telling a lie and they get you in deep doo doo.”

When the evening was over and we had all retired to bed, there was a knock on my door.
“Yes, come in.” I knew it would be Sandy, (she’d said she’d be in later — to tuck me in!)
She slipped in and shut the door — mum and dad were on the other landing so wouldn’t hear bumps in the night.

“I think we need a little chat to clear some air, Richard.” She looked at me, sat up in bed, the covers up round my neck. I let them slip a bit. “Sure,” I said, patting the bed so she could sit down. My heart was not equable — it was banging like a bloody drum and I was truly frightened. This ‘interview’ and ‘air clearing’ could fry me.

Her smile was kind, but her hand reached out and pulled the covers down some more.
“Time for show and tell, I think,” I acquiesced. I lowered the covers so my pjs were my only cover. The swell of my breasts pushed them out — they were pretty obvious — I wasn’t unproud of them — just worried that they might not be as permanent as I’d like if things went badly — I knew that if it went wrong, my life was over — IQ or not, I couldn’t survive being a guy.

Sandy’s eyes followed the line of my torso, her only word was, “Impressive”. Then, “Care to show me the rest of them?” I lifted my top and bared all.
“My, oh my, this is not Richard at all is it? This is more… Renata…” She squeezed my hand - which was trembling holding up my shirt. “Ok, cover up before you get cold.”
“I thought your bottom was a bit round… before, but I thought it was just puppy fat.”

“No, it’s not puppy fat, it’s my hips; they’ve developed quite a bit. It’s hard to keep them hidden. Please, Aunt Sandy, Oh God please don’t tell on me. I’ve only got to go another month and I have some autonomy at the moment I could be pumped full of testosterone at the wishes of my parents. I wouldn’t be able to survive. At least if I get to 16, they’ve got no control over my body.” It was over, I collapsed in tears — I promised myself I wouldn’t but it was like a huge weight had lifted. I was no longer in control — I’d been sprung.

Richard's Way
Jennifer Christine
Part 3

Sandy looked pensive for a minute or two as I bored into her mind with my eyes, trying to see what she was thinking. Eventually she looked up and smiled gently.
“Don’t worry pet, I’ll make sure you’re not harmed. I can get a ward of court order very quickly and make sure your body is sacrosanct. But, honestly, I don’t think your mother is that far from the truth anyway and your father has no idea — head in cloud syndrome I think.” She grinned and tried to lower the tension. “What I’m worried about is you’re obviously on drugs that aren’t prescription and you’ve been taking them a while. Have you had any blood tests?”

“Well, no, but I have been monitoring my weight and any odd things like kidney pain and stuff. Basically I stopped my Puberty before it started and now I’m just growing up as a girl with a willie.” I coloured up thinking about it.

“Look…Rich… I can take you on as a client, that gives me — and you - non-disclosure and confidentiality clauses that stop me from telling your parents, but it also means I’m risking my relationship with your parents and I don’t want to do that.
What I propose is this. I’m going to be your go between. This means that I’ll sound out your mum for her response to your being transgendered or ‘different’.
I will let you know what the result is and we plan from there. Your father isn’t going to be a serious problem, honestly.”

I looked at her, knitting my eyebrows almost to the point of knotting the individual hairs together. “What do you mean — not a problem? He’s going to be up alongside the International Space Station when he finds out — they’re going to have to haul him on board and send him back down with the next Soyuz. I don’t think I’ve met a man so close to paranoid homophobic, if I used scented soap, he’d call me a whore, a cheap one at that.”

Sandy grinned and patted my leg, “That’s because he’s very sensitive about the situation. A question of ‘methinks he doth protest too much’. I’m not going to say any more, but don’t write him off as a support mechanism just yet. He may surprise you.”

I struggled for a moment to get the grasp of that, I wasn’t going to ask any more questions about that as the look on Sandy’s face was transparently trepidatious. I believed that she was saying dad was not as close to the centre of the bell curve (where sexuality was concerned) as I’d come to believe. There was hope for me yet.

“Right,” she stood and turned to me offering her arms for a hug — I returned the emotion and wrapped my arms round her. She kissed the top of my head. “Sleep tight, R…enata.”
She smiled sympathetically at me and turned for the door.
As she pulled it to, she whispered “And don’t worry, I’ll not let anything happen without your consent.”

I smiled and said loud enough for her to hear, “It’s Rebecca.”

I lay back down and switched off the light. Sleep was a long time coming but when it did it was deep and restoring.

No mention was made the next morning and indeed nothing seemed to have changed — I took the occasional glance at Sandy during breakfast and she didn’t return any of them. The twins were quiet and reflective — waiting for the balloon to go up I guess.

“Us wrinklies are going to go out for lunch, down the local, you kids going to accompany us or are you going to go into town or something?” Dad enquired of us.

The twins looked at me for guidance, “I reckon we’ll go into town if you’re financing the operation,” I held out my hand and dad popped a couple of notes in it. I grinned. “Lunch is on the Coombes.” I directed to the twins who high fived each other. They couldn’t reach my hand. “Thanks Dad. This should cover it nicely.” I pocketed the two 20 pound notes thinking, ‘generous, very generous indeed.’

“That should also be enough for entertainment for the afternoon, we expect you back at a reasonable hour — BEFORE dinner.” He added — “We’ll drop you off — where would you like to go?”

“Anywhere will do on the high street,” Sarah volunteered.

And so it was that we found ourselves seated in a little Alfresco coffee bar in the warm sunlit high street. “So come on, what the hell went on last night, Mum was in your room for ages last night — what did she say?” The girls were both looking contrite and a bit worried though much less so than they had been at breakfast when they expected the ‘fit to hit the shan’

“Your mum said she’d make sure everything is going to be ok and she’s going to sound out my mum to see if we can ride this out without recrimination.” I stirred my coffee thoughtfully. When I looked up I realised that the girls were waiting for me to continue.
“Well, your mum realised that nothing could be done about the situation and is hoping that disaster can be averted and no one hurt in the process.”

“You’re going to have to explain better than that Rich; that sounds like a glossover.” Angela leaned back and looked impatiently at me. “Details, we need details.”

I gave them the full rundown.
They wanted to take me shopping for the afternoon but I said “window shopping only” and then we’d enjoy a share out of the remaining loot as a boost to our allowances. The twins were very disappointed but they smirked at each other when they realised that window shopping to a bunch of girls meant — lingerie shops and department stores and shoe shops and not book stores and similar non gender related outlets.

We did a comprehensive tour of the retail venues and actually came away with a T shirt that was a soft cinnamon colour for me — it was non-gender specific, but not many guys would have the metro-sexual nerve to wear it out. The twins said it was for my post-recognition period. With a bra and decent jeans, it would indeed make a nice casual outfit.

The rest of the weekend passed away with nothing to relate except a quick word with Sandy before we left on Sunday.

“I haven’t had a chance to really get into the nitty gritty of the subject yet,… Becca(?) but we did briefly discuss the topic of self determination. I’m going to take it slow - I’ll chat with Liz during the week if I can. We’re not seeing you lot next weekend so I may have lunch or something later in the week. Just don’t dwell on it. There’s no deadline, though I would like you to see an endocrinologist for a blood test pretty soon. I’m really putting my neck on the line not taking you straight to the hospital. Would you like me to set you up with a blood test?”

“Only if the test isn’t going to get back to M&D (mum and dad) before the news is out.”
I replied tentatively. “I don’t want you to get in trouble with the Bar Association.”

“I’m impressed — you know about the ogres of the Court system eh? — I could only get a reprimand for conflict of interest, though it would be a slap on the wrist I don’t want. So let’s hope it doesn’t come to that eh?” She patted me on the shoulder and we didn’t get to discuss it further.

We chatted agreeably about the weekend as we headed home and no one seemed unduly pointed about anything. I relaxed as it seems only three weekends remained til I felt safe(r).

True enough the week seemed to pass innocuously enough and the new routine of my being home and doingthe house-stuff was couching us gently to the week’s end. Mum had lunch with Sandy on the Friday and spoke of it during supper that evening.

“She seemed a bit introspective today, she must have a hard case to work with; she was telling me about a young man who wants autonomy from his parents.
I said, “as long as the boy was sensible, what was the problem?” Sandy said that he wasn’t of age to be self supporting yet and needed emotional and financial support.
She changed the subject, but I was wondering why the boy needed autonomy AND support. Really odd, I can’t figure it out.”
Dad mumbled something about ‘perhaps he was gay and didn’t want to be grounded by his folks.’ And ‘don’t know what the country is coming to, place is full of wierdos.’

Mum looked askance at him, I continued to chew thoughtfully. I wonder if that’s a cue for me to say something about me? Should I continue the conversation or is it just a primer from Sandy for mum to chew over.

“Maybe the boy is scared that something he is doing is against the parent’s designs. Like changing religions or something — or going out with a girl of different origin.” I advanced a couple of theories. Theories that wouldn’t point directly at what I was doing.

“That’s a thought, something that might upset the parents that they could control if he’s underage. I think it would be sad if parents couldn’t allow their children to grow as they need to to be happy. After all, look at us, we’ve let Rich grow as he wishes and not go to school.” Mum added, slipping another forkful of steak and kidney pie into her mouth.

“Well, I have already passed my six ‘A’ levels for University entrance with all grade A passes — I only needed three you know?” I purposely confused the issue — I was beginning to sweat. Softly, softly, catchee monkey is the way I need to go here.

“Perhaps you should join a gym while you’re home — you don’t want to turn into a wimp with no muscles do you?” Dad intoned, changing the subject but actually changing it for one closer to where I didn’t want to go.

“No dad, I don’t want to turn into a wimp with or without muscles, nor do I want to go to a gym. Perhaps I should get self determination so I don’t have to go to places that my parents wish me to.” I decided to push the envelope in the opposite direction — the old subject was easier than this one.

“It’s a complex issue,” My father waved his fork as part of his instructional technique. “The parents being the guides, mentor and guardians of a child legally until his 16th birthday can pretty much do as they please, as long as the child isn’t physically abused. But they can’t throw him out without making them wards of court. Or so I believe. Someone has to be a child’s guardian until they’re sixteen. What rights do the guardians have and what rights do the children have? Can the child determine his future before he’s sixteen or must the parents take responsibility for his action?” Dad stuck his fork into a potato and popped it into his mouth as he pondered.

This was actually playing right into my hands, if dad determines that a child has responsibility for his actions and not the parent, then I can argue that I can take HRT and he can’t stop me and he can’t gainsay me and fill me with testosterone at his discretion.

“So the child decides he wants to steal an article instead of paying for it? What responsibility does the parent have?” I asked. “Must he go to prison for the actions of the child?”

“No, that would be silly, the child has made a decision that he’s not capable of understanding, that of breaking the law.” Dad decided. “So he may be chastised but not punished per se.”

“You’re kidding? A child of 15 can volunteer for the armed services and take responsibility for his actions — ie be issued with a gun and use it responsibly. Yet that same child can’t be done for theft because he isn’t old enough to be responsible for his actions. Hardly seems right does it?”

“Well put like that, it’s a bit of a grey area isn’t it?” Mum put in.

“Not really, because if you go into the services, someone else takes responsibility for you — the Queen if you work it to the top.” Dad covered his tracks.

“What if a ‘child’ say me, robs a bank — or deals drugs? Do we still have no idea what we’re doing is wrong? There really can be no excuse about responsibility then can there?” Digging my own grave here, but I want dad to commit himself to a child being self determining at some point.

“Well the court would decide to charge the person under the adult code probably — basically giving them — or you in this case - the ‘self-determination’ by default. The parent would have no responsibility for the actions of the child nor would anyone else. They would have TAKEN self determination on themselves.”

I smiled inwardly, I rest my case.

“You aren’t thinking of robbing my bank are you?” He grinned.

Those words were to haunt me later.

Two weeks to my birthday. Two weeks and three weekends really. Perhaps even if I told them now, they wouldn’t have time to mess up my plans. No, let’s leave it until I have let the water under the bridge. I left it right there.

When you’re expecting things to happen, there’s a sort of suspension in the normal run of things. Things carry on as normal, but you seem to be in an eddy, waiting for the moment when the tide slips you back into the stream to carry on with new momentum.

That weekend seemed so slow, we did house and garden stuff — I cleaned the pool, mowed the lawn and cleaned the car. I went into town to buy a book. I spent a few minutes in a department store looking at a dress for my birthday party. Well I was looking for a dress that I might be able to wear when the broken bones healed after I told mum and dad — probably on my birthday.

A retail assistant came over and said, “Can I help you, miss?” I looked up and smiled.

“Oh, no thanks, I’m just checking some stuff out for my birthday,” I said, honestly.

“You come back and see me when you’re ready,” She smiled and wandered off to two other ladies on the next rack.

Short hair, no makeup and boys’ clothes and I still get miss. Cool.

That about cured that weekend — I spent some time on the web reading some gender related fora, but they were really tacky and I got nauseous reading some of the trite rubbish spouted by some of the posters. It was obvious — to me anyway — that quite a few were getting off on it and really weren’t anything to do with being gender screwed.

Before dad left on Monday he told me to go and have a look at the temp jobs in the local shop windows — there may be some folks looking for help or something, it’d be a good way to earn a few shekels.
After doing the cleaning and putting on a wash, I decided it couldn’t hurt and I went down to the local corner store to check out the ads on the window — there were always a few.
Danny’s Supplies
“Wanted
pamphlets poster, ring 123555779. Ask for Mick. 5 hours a week.
Approx 8 pounds per hour. Suit a pensioner or School Student”

So I rang.
“Why is it approx 8 pounds an hour?” I asked before we got too far into the scheme of things.
“Well it’s an average of how many leaflets you deliver.” I could hear him smile.
“How many would that be?” I asked drumming my fingers loud enough for him to hear.
“About 160. “ he said almost casually —

5p each, I calculated in my head and minimum three and a half miles, maybe five.
Just possible in poorer suburbs not possible in expensive suburbs — the house blocks are too big.

“I’m not training to be an Olympic marathon runner, how about I design you a website and you pay me 100 quid?”

“How big is the website? I’m not too good wiv a computer — I’d need someone to manage it. “ He said after a moment or two’s silence.

“Ok, your shop is the local hardware isn’t it?” I was grinning by this time — I’d hooked him

“Yeah that’s right.”

“Well you’d want to put on your tools and stuff and your mowers now it’s coming into summer and stuff like that. About 5 megabytes, I guess would do it with small photos or drawings taken from a catalogue. Do you want customers to be able to order from the website or to come in to the store?” This could be fun.

“I get most of my stuff from a catalogue myself and sell it on. It’s not a big business, it’s my old man’s, he’s too old to run it now.”

“Well how about I build it and show you how to change the prices and stuff then you can just ring me up if you want any big changes. I’ll put tags in the site so that you can print them on your bills and receipts and then it’ll be easy to spread the word.
It’ll be easy to put an ad in the yellow pages and local free papers too. Smaller ad with a bigger impact.” Sell, sell, sell, I thought.

“Come on round, I’ll see what you can do and then we can do a deal.” He started to sound enthusiastic.

“Ok”. I put down the phone and thought — easy peasy!

By the time I got home I had a small catalogue, his nominal price list, logo and a cheque for 150 pounds to buy a domain name. By tea time I had up a simple site with an easy to find price index and the shop’s logo and a pic or two. Enough to see what sort of response was going to happen

“Did you see about finding some work today son?” Dad asked over his lamb chops and mint sauce.

“Actually yes I did, I earned 100 pounds today on my first job. It’s not much, but it should snowball in a week or two.” I smiled quietly to myself.
“Impressive, what are you doing? lawns or what?”

“What, mostly. Lawns are too much like hard labour, I think, for someone my build.”

“That was the point son; it’s to build you up.” He shook his head and took another slice of carrot.

“Dad, I was given a heap of brain cells and no muscles — like the Mekon — you want me to mow lawns? I’ll buy a motor mower and sit on it to do the lawns — I’ll still earn the same but I have to buy the mower. I’m never, ever , going to push a mower round someone else’s garden. Please don’t raise the subject again” I directed him with a stare and pushed the 150 pound cheque at him.

“I wasn’t joking dad.”

Dad spun it round to read it and pushed it back towards me, “Don’t do anything illegal.”
He asked me no more questions.

By the end of the week I had 15 local businesses in my pocket and all the sites linked.
It would be a while before I could make 1500 quid in a week again, but each business was feeding me 10 pound a week to keep the changes going and even emailed the changes they wanted.  ½ an hour every morning for 150 a week. That’s simple enough.

It was Friday again and our turn to host the family. I’d organized the food for the weekend and I’d pre-prepared quite a bit. But I wasn’t going to do it for them. So I handed the kitchen over to mum.

When the family arrived everyone was relaxed and clean and prepared which wasn’t usually the case. It was usually a sort of flea circus on Fridays with everyone busting a gut to relax.

“So what’s been happening this week?” Brad asked as he sipped his whisky.
“Well, I told Rich to go find some work — buggered if he didn’t come home with 150 on his first day and 1500 for the week.”

The twins ears were suddenly on alert — this was serious retail therapy eskudos.

“Hey it’s not all profit. There’s only a thousand profit in that lot.” I complained lustily.

“One THOUSAND pounds?” The twins crooned together.

Uncle Brad’s eyes swiveled towards me over his glass. “I take it if I told the police, they’d not be round with sniffer dogs?”

“All legal — just website building — no biggie.” I held up my hands palm out to show honesty.
Sandy found me alone on the Saturday morning before the others had come to the breakfast table.

“Morning Auntie, what would you like for breakfast?” I was holding a jug of orange juice and she winced and said, “I’d rather a coffee thanks than something that wicked and acidic first thing in the morning.” I put down the jug and picked up the coffee pot.

“I never saw it before, but you’re quite graceful, you don’t move like a man.”

I looked at her and at the door pointedly, “Small Pigs, ears and big are words that spring to mind at this point.” I spoke quietly.

“Your mum is in the shower and your dad is still snoring, Brad is as well. I doubt our conversation would be heard by any that weren’t already au fait”. (that means who weren’t in the know) She sipped her coffee holding the mug with both her hands. “You make nice coffee. Not bitter.”

“I use Kenyan beans. They’re not as harsh.” I was trying to keep the conversation away from the relevant subject.

“Liz isn’t unaware that there’s something wrong, she said something about your development isn’t right. I didn’t broach the subject but asked her what she would do if you were ill.” Sandy sipped again, waiting for me to settle. I sat on the stool next to her with my juice. “Go on.”

‘“I think there is something wrong,” she said, “I think he’s a bit deformed and won’t tell me about it.”’ Sandy looked at me. “Do you think you’re deformed?”

“Yes, but not in the way mum sees it.” I smiled ruefully.

“I asked her, “What way deformed?” She said, “he seems to have a chest that’s all the wrong shape. It’s like he’s got a pigeon chest.””

I giggled a bit, “I guess that singlet is a bit too tight.” I shook my head. “You never think it’s going to happen to your own kids. Do you?” I felt guilty, not for the first time.

Movement on the stairs brought my mum into the room, smelling of talc and peach flavoured soap. “Morning all, is that coffee I smell? Mmm. What? What have I missed? You look like conspirators sat there. Like a pair of pirate discussing your next raid. Spill.” She looked at us with open questions in both eyes.

“We were discussing deformities,” Sandy volunteered, glancing at me to see if I was going to run with it. I shook my head, ‘please NO’ in my eyes.

“Oh,” mum looked at me. “And what conclusions did you come to?”

“That pigeons would look funny with human chests, and probably couldn’t fly very well.” I suggested, “and, that I definitely didn’t have a pigeon chest — nor a hairy one. Just somewhere in between.” I finished lyrically. “Like Goldilocks.” Giving just a hint of irony.

“I’ll have to find you a little bowl of porridge to see if you’re any good.” Sandy suggested.

“Any good at what?” I glanced at her — I could feel myself colouring up a bit.

“Being Goldilocks.” Sandy smiled playfully and bared her teeth in a rictus smile.

Mum’s back was still turned. She saw non and heard little of what we bantered. “What are you two wittering on about?”

“Me being Goldilocks,” I answered brightly. The light did NOT come on. Still too early in the morning and the coffee wasn’t working yet.

“What shall we do today?” Mum looked out of the window to assess the weather. “Looks nice out, maybe we can go for a run out to the beach for a walk.”

“You’ll have to wake the trolls first. Too many ‘talky talky tins’ last night I think.” I think she was referring to the cans of beer.

I finished my juice and roused the twins — “come in,” one of them sang out, I walked in and Sarah was clad only in knickers. “Oops,” I started to back out. “That’s Ok, only us girls in here,” I glanced briefly at her chest — to see how I compared — little in it I guessed. “I’ll wait outside, just the same if you don’t mind.” I smiled, turned and closed the door.

Timing was good — dad came out of the bedroom just after I closed the door, gave me a sort of open eyed look and went into the toilet. A morning glory a little obvious in his PJs.

I realised I’m starting to stress. I went back in my room and lay down and stuck my ear pods in and listened to some Kenny G. Mum woke me a bit later with a rap on the door. I’d slid off into a sort of hideaway sleep — I felt a bit better, but my head ached. I got some aspirin before I went downstairs.

Everyone was gathered and ready to go so I grabbed a jacket and followed. The sea was lovely but a bit blustery.
The whole weekend seemed to be a game of catch up and stress. By the end of it I was a wreck. I resolved that I would divulge all next weekend — I was not up to any more games of ‘guess and run’.

Sandy rang me during the Monday and told me that she’d spoken to her doctor and I could go round to the clinic and get a blood test on my own bat for 35 pounds — noone would be the wiser. I managed to get in there before the close of play and they told me they’d send the results to my doctor, I said, “You’d better not, this is a private consult.”

“Oh, where would you like the results sent?” The receptionist asked. She looked like she wanted to have me committed for being non-conformist.

“Ring me,” I handed her a card, “My number s on this card, I shall pick it up myself.”

“Oh, it’s got to go to a doctor.” She complained.

“Do you want to speak to my lawyer? Or do you want to ring me when the result comes in?” I gave her the option. She looked at me like I had two heads.

“I’ll see what I can do.” She backed off but gave nothing.

I pulled out my phone, dialed Sandy. “Hi Sandy, it’s me. My friendly clinic wants to send my private info to a doctor, would you like to read them the riot act?”

“Pass the phone to whomever it is Richard.” Sandy said and I heard her take in a big breath.

I didn’t hear both sides of the conversation but when she handed me the phone back she also said, “I’ll ring you with your information sir.” Her now pale faced head went down like she’d been condemned to death. I’ll have to ask Sandy what she said.

Tuesday dawned with some really wicked sky and I knew the weather was going to be awful. I stayed put.

I decided a nice stew was the order of the day and made an apple pie to go with it.
At 5 mum came in and waxed lyrical about the smell and poured herself a gin and tonic. We awaited dad. It was a bit late, but the weather could account for that. When it got to an hour, mum rang the bank to see if there was a problem and then when there was no answer but the tape of the opening hours, rang his mobile — it rang out.
Dad was notorious for leaving his phone in his car. But that wasn’t a problem usually.

Mum rang the bank and there was still no answer.
After a few minutes she picked up the phone again and I heard her say. “Who am I speaking to?..... Ah thank you sergeant, I’m ringing because my husband isn’t answering his phone-. …… I’m sorry, you didn’t let me finish, this is a protocol that is in place, my husband in the manager of ____Bank and I’m supposed to call if I can’t contact him or if his normal routine is broken.”

Mum listened for a minute and then said. “Right, his car is an X5 BMW, Silver Reg no L555 FGH. I’ll stay by the phone until you call back.”
Mum looked really pale when she turned back to me, “They’re checking to see if his car is still at work and the hospitals — though you’d think the staff or hospital would ring if he had had an accident.” Mum shoulders suddenly heaved — I rushed over to her and held her as she suddenly released pent up emotion.

Richards Way
(of becoming herself)
by Jennifer Christine
Part 4

“Bet he’s left his phone off the charger in his car and he’s got a flat tyre somewhere on the way home.” I tried to cheer her up.

“He’d call; I know he’d call straight away. We’ve discussed this time and time again that if he had a delay, he’d call immediately — Oh Richard, something’s happened I know it has.” She started to panic — suddenly the phone rang again. Mum snatched it up so fast there was almost a whoosh from the air movement.

“Oh, he’s not,… no, he doesn’t go anywhere without calling me first, it’s totally unlike him. …. Yes, I’ll stay by the phone —“ She put the handset down, her face crumpling as she did. “The car is outside the bank in his parking space.” Her eyes had that ‘deer in headlights’ look. Shock — trauma.

She sucked in a huge breath, “Oh god, please don’t let him be hurt.” She covered her face and shuddered slightly as imagined scenarios took place in her head. Suddenly she looked up.

“In cases like this, the Bank is audited and our home will be checked for anything untoward. I know there’s no reason to fear anything, but there’s going to be some CID men here shortly if my guess is good.” Mum’s shoulders weren’t so much slumped as sagged — that sag of lost dignity — this is not an easy thing to undergo — suspicion that Dad had gambling debts or something that would make him abscond with the funds from his work.

“He’s going to be guilty until they find everything is OK.” Mum was really looking weird — like the fight was returning to her. She bared her teeth as she sucked air between them.

“They’re going to take the computers away — even yours, so if there’s information you need for anything, better offload it or whatever so you can access it from another computer.” The phone rang again. Mum took a deep breath and picked it up.

“Liz Coombes,… yes. No he’s not,… I’ve no idea. It was a normal day nothing odd at all.” The look on her face was resignation. Then bitterness. “There’s no reason to get annoyed, Ted may be hurt or dead for all I know, all you have to do is go into work and unlock the doors. Stop complaining.”She slammed the phone down.

“Bloody assistant manager. Thinks dad’s buggered off with the takings!” She was
fuming.

All this time I was hanging onto her, my mind was full of bad people hurting my dad, overseers and oppressors hurting mum and turning our lives upside down. I started to feel real fear. My eyes started to brim up and I found I was clinging to mum rather than being supportive. Mum put her arm round me — “it’s ok darling it’ll turn out fine, you’ll see.”

We both held on for awhile until we seemed to separate naturally, though we didn’t speak; we were both just in time suspension. All our problems were nothing compared to this. Dad was gone, where?

“We’d better eat something,” I suggested and mum nodded vacantly.

“Yes, you’re right, we need to get on.” Mum ladled some stew into the bowls it was still piping hot in the slow cooker so we waited a minute or two for it to cool. We both looked at the empty chair.
Neither of us was going to say anything — we just leaked from the eyes and felt miserable.

Eventually we ate.

The phone rang a short while later — we were both still sat at the table — immobile, with our thoughts turned inward. The noise made us both jump.

I was closest, so I answered, “Richard here, … yes, hang on a second.” I passed the phone to mum, mouthed ‘police’ to her. She nodded and took the handset. “Yes?... No…Right. Well I presume he comes down the main road to get home, but if he’d broken down, he’d have rung wouldn’t he? He’s not in his car is he? he wouldn’t have walked, he’d have taken a taxi. No.” She put the phone down, shaking her head at the nonsense from the other end.

“You’d think they’d think things through wouldn’t you? They were asking which way he came home. He would have taken a taxi and been home hours ago.” Before she’d had a chance the put the cordless phone back on the hub, it rang in her hands.

“Oh, you again,…of course you wouldn’t,… of course it is. No there’s nothing that I can think of, he hardly ever touches the computer here except for family email….. I suppose you can, but if everything’s ok at that end, why would you want to? Exactly — right,… I’ve no idea… Ok thank you, yes I will, goodnight.” Mum’s raised eyebrows showed that something had surprised her.

“Assistant manager again, the records have had a preliminary check on the computer and the person who closed the vault was him, so he knows that it will be ok — it’s on a time lock. Dad can’t open it on his own.” Mum’s lips quivered with pending misery.

“Don’t cry mum, whatever has happened, there’s no point in worrying about it until we have a clue as to what’s going on,” I tried to mollify her, but I really felt no better.

The doorbell rang and I jumped looking at mum who returned my stare.
I flicked on the monitor to the gate and a man was standing at the bell looking at the camera.
“Yes?” I asked.
The man held up a warrant card close enough that I could see it was one but not if it was a real one — though I had no reason to suspect it was a fake, nor had I ever seen a real one anyway for comparison.

“Detective Joshua Brown, CID.” I heard him say as he lowered his hand.
I buzzed the side gate and he walked through — I was at the door when he got there.

“Come in, detective,” I stood back to let him in.

“Come through,” I led the way into the kitchen where we were still sat. He followed.

“Good evening Mrs Coombes, sorry to be an interruption at this time of night, but we’re treating this as a serious case — Bank Managers are high end commodities,” He tried to be bright and upscale, but his very presence meant something was wrong.

“Sit down detective,” she indicated one of the stools around the breakfast bar where we were sat. “Would you like a coffee or tea?” Mum enquired as if practiced in the art of Detective grooming.

“Not tea thanks — I drink too much of it in the canteen — a decent coffee would go down a treat though. Two and a splash please” Indicating his preference.

I looked him over . Nothing to get excited about. Badly pressed trousers, pressed one side only. Shoes clean but not polished scuffed on the left heel ( poor driving technique). Shirt, clean and drip dry — This is one lazy man — living on his own. A man going through the motions with his job.

“Do you have any news or is this a social visit?” I asked a bit sarcastically — he looked at me like I had bit his leg.

“Oh yes, sorry, I shouldn’t dilly dally with news eh?” He plastered an insincere grin on his face.

“I’m here in case there’s any contact by whoever (sic) might have detained him, I can’t find any evidence of him reaching his car and the bank was locked up normally and secure, so whoever it was that approached him didn’t realise they couldn’t get back in once the alarms had been activated.” Joshua supplied with that twisted logic that police are famous for.

“Surely that means exactly the opposite. If someone had approached dad as he left the bank and didn’t know about the alarms not being turnable off, they’d have forced him back into the bank and triggered the alarms, thereby stuffing the operation and spending some time with you guys down the nick. Or at worst, ending up with a hostage situation in the empty bank with only one hostage.”

The detective looked at me like I had two heads and blinked a few times as the wheels of justice ground exceedingly slowly in his head.

“Yes, there is that, certainly.” He pulled out his notebook and scribbled something. “I’d like to look at your PC if you have one, there may be something on that that may be tied in to what’s going on.” He winced slightly knowing that the allusion now is to dad being a suspect in a crime that hasn’t yet been established

“Now, as you well know, the assistant manager has already checked the integrity of the bank’s accounts.” I supplied before mum could start crying again. “and your premise that dad is complicit in anything that is going on, is based on the fact you have no clue whatsoever as to why he’s not here in the bosom of his family enjoying his whisky and soda. I suggest, if you have nothing better to do, that you set up any listening devices you may or may not have with you, in case the perpetrators decide to put us out of our misery and tell us what the fuck is going on, because you, obviously, have no idea.” I smiled through gritted teeth at him.

He looked at me like I had three heads and put his briefcase on the table. He flipped open the flap and pulled out a ‘wire’. “Are you on wireless or landline for your phone?” He’d obviously started to get the idea.

“Wireless,” I said passing him the handset — he clicked it on and pressed the intercom remote button, which lit up the red light on the little box on the pickup he’d revealed.
“Right,” he smiled like it was a magic trick, “Anyone who calls will automatically be recorded on the little recorder here. This can be downloaded by the station as it is connected by weblink” The little red light was now green. “Right, it’s connected.”

“How long do the batteries last?” I asked.

He pulled out the charger unit, “Can I plug this in?” I nodded and pointed to the plug socket next to him. He connected both ends — “Now that’ll be set ‘til everything is settled.”

Mum hadn’t said much, and she looked weary, “Where do you start?” she asked quietly, “What do you do besides wait like we’re doing?”

“Until the initial contact is made, we don’t have much to go on. We can trace known persons who have a similar MO and we can ask around and check over CCTV footage of the bank environs. There is a fair bit we can get on with. The biggest thing we can do is have support here for you and to intercept the calls and negotiate.” He told us.

“First up we need to tell you what to do if the phone rings and it’s someone connected with the problem.” These guys must be instructed how to ameliorate the language to minimise shock.

“I’m just going to ring the station to tell them we’re all set up and then there’ll be a pc out to take over the situation. There’ll also be someone on the other end of this,” he indicated the phone tap thing. “With your permission, there’ll be a person here to intercept or negotiate calls until your husband is safe.” He suddenly started to sound competent.

“Thank you Detective,” Mum slumped onto the stool and placed her head on her arms on the bench top.

After a while another cop car appeared at the gate — a marked one this time. I let it in and it dispensed a female cop. I let her in, she carried a small valise, “Hello, I’m, Susan, the negotiator, Josh probably told you about how it works?” I shook my head.

“No, he was too busy doing conjuring tricks with his phone tap,” I was weary and I wanted to get mum to settle before I did so myself. “Do I really need to know, it’s getting late and my mum is frantic. Isn’t there something that can be done?”

“I can phone a doctor for something like a sedative?” She looked as much use as the other brain free dick I’d let in earlier.

“Do what you must. There’s a convertible sofa in the sun lounge if you want to make yourself comfy.” I pointed to the door at the other end of the kitchen. “I’m totaled, and so is mum, we’ve been on edge all evening and our adrenal glands are overworked.” Mum was sat there looking pale. It had only been four hours since Dad hadn’t arrived home.

“C’mon mum let’s get you off to bed, there’s nothing we can do until we get a phone call.” Mum nodded and I took her hand and led her to her room. She didn’t get undressed — just slipped her shoes off and lay on the bed — I slipped a blanket over her. “See if you can get some shut eye.” I gave her a hug and a kiss.

“I haven’t even told Sandy and Brad,” mum mumbled at me. I suddenly realised that we’d literally shut down — and isolated ourselves.

I picked up the phone by the bed. “No, don’t, someone may be trying to call.” Mum admonished.

I nodded and pulled my cell out of my pocket — hit the dial button for Sandy.

“Hi Sandy, Rich; sorry to phone so late.”

“What’s the prob?” she asked brightly.

“Dad’s gone missing, the police think he’s been kidnapped for ransom or something.” I tried to be as concise as possible. Silence reigned for a moment.

“Oh my God, why didn’t you phone earlier? I’ll be right over.” Click.

I didn’t even get a chance to tell her to wait. Well she’s a good sister to mum so at least mum’ll be emotionally supported by a sibling as well as a child.

She was there in record time, I met her at the door — she had the gate opener fitted to her car.
After I told her the whole story she asked about my own problems, I just shrugged and said “back seat for a while I guess.”

“You look worn out. You’ve been a brick sweetie, why don’t you get your head down and I’ll fill in the constable — Susan is it?”

I didn’t get to sleep so well but I did get some rest and when I went down the next morning, mum was sat there nursing a coffee — dark circles under her eyes. Susan was opposite — looking the worse for wear but reasonable — the phone hadn’t rung — Sandy was still in bed.

By lunch time the phone still hadn’t rung and the police had been and interviewed everyone including next door neighbours and work colleagues of Mum’s as well as Dad’s. Nothing, absolutely nothing.

“I can’t sit here, I’m going to have to drive round my houses and pop into work.”
Mum told the room in general and no one in particular.

Susan’s replacement, Mary, another negotiator looked up and said, “your houses?”

“Real Estate Agent. I just like to check on my local houses to make sure there’s no squatters and stuff.” She informed the PC.

“Oh, right.” She made a note in her log. “I’ll just phone it in, the super might want you to be on hand if there is some contact.” She clicked on her short wave mic and asked what she should do about Mum leaving the house. The answer came back over the speaker so everyone could hear, “It’s been 18 hours since Mr Coombes went missing, I think if they were going to contact they’d have done it already, we’re searching for witnesses and going through bank records to see if there’s anyone with a grudge. Tell Mrs Coombes that if she needs to get out, to be careful and keep her eyes open. Constable, I think you can return to the station. Out”

I looked at mum and she looked sick. The implications were headlined — Dad had been kidnapped and there’d been no ransom demand — that meant only one thing. Mum collapsed in a heap. I sat down as my head started to swim.

Sandy ran over to mum and moved mum to a more comfortable position — she was in a dead faint. The constable went back to the mic and said, “Sir, Mrs Coombes has collapsed, could you send an ambulance?” A short silence followed. “Oh, right. Will do, ambulance on its way.”

“That boss of yours has a wonderful manner — I think he could do with a smack in the head with a wet kipper. Might wake him up. What the hell did he say that over open channel for — he must’ve known he’d be heard?” I was incensed. “I’ve a good mind to sue his ass off for causing unnecessary distress.” The copper looked guilty and kept her mouth shut.
Sandy spoke to Mary, “My name is Alexandra Hurley, I am the family’s lawyer, and I’m making a note of what has been said, in case further action may be taken, is that understood? I suggest you let your boss know — what’s his full name and rank please?”

“Superintendant Rupert Crisp.” The constable looked abashed and very contrite.
She pulled out her phone and talked for a minute.

Rupert Crisp — well I wonder if he bought his superintendancy — sounds like a very jolly good chap to know, don’t cha know. I shook my head. If this wasn’t so serious, itwold be a farce.

The ambulance arrived and mum was whisked off to A & E with Sandy in the back as well.

The constable packed up and left and I decided to go ride around mum’s houses to check they were ok. I knew where most of them were as she had a list on the fridge. I just needed to check in her work diary to make sure I got them all.

It was in her car so I just flicked through it and added the two not on the list — the route wasn’t long, but it was long enough on a bike.

All was well until I got half way round the houses and found one had a car in the drive.
It was an oldish, unpolished small Ford and the house was not compatible, being a fairly substantial 4 bed 3 bath DLUG (double lock up garage) sort of affair with a brick garden wall and not old.
Sort of house you’d expect to see a Volvo or a Mercedes outside.

I phoned mum’s office and told them and continued on my way. I’d almost got home when my cell phone rang and Sandy’s name came up on the screen.
“Hi aunty, is mum Ok? Is there any other news, I’m out checking the houses for mum — there’s an old car outside 10 Park Road and I phoned it in to mum’s work.”

“Been busy huh?” Sandy smiled down the phone, I could tell. “Mums Ok, she’s been sedated, they think she should stay here for a while maybe overnight, I’m going to stay for a little bit then go home and make tea, do you want to pop over and join us — I’ll pick you up if you do.”

“That’d be great, I don’t want to spend the night in an empty house, with dad being missing. I’m getting very anxious.” Bringing it up in conversation made it bubble to the surface and I felt tears were imminent again.

“Be at home and I’ll pick you up later.” Sandy rang off.

When I got in, I hit the message button in case anyone else had rung. What I heard made me feel sick.

“Feeling anxious yet? Are you missing your husband?” A little pause followed by, “time is ticking.” Then a click. The machine said, “Message timed at 2, 0, 5.”

I immediately rang the police who confirmed they’d got it but weren’t committing themselves to any other statement.

They seemed reluctant to actually do ANYTHING at all. I was sure there was something I could do. I thoughtabout the recording — I wonder where it was — I didn’t hear much in the background. I put the recording into my PC and stretched it a bit to see if I could hear anything else. It was eerily quiet almost to the end and then I heard the sound of an ice cream van jingle — Greensleeves way in the background.

I had a think — I wonder how many ice cream vans play that tune? The one that sells round here does. Mr Whipple. I looked in the telephone directory for the number of the company and found there was a head office and a load of franchises.
How many franchises were in our town that played Greensleeves?
I rang the number.

“Hello, Mr Whipple’s fine Ice Creams is pleased to take your call, all our operators are busy at the moment, please hold the line, someone will be with you shortly.” I HATE those recordings.

I drummed my fingers for a moment and looked at my watch. 4 pm — too early to pack up.

Suddenly I was put through. “Hello Samantha here, how may I direct your call?”

“I’d like to speak to someone who’d know where an ice cream van playing Greensleeves was this afternoon at 5 past 2?”

“You trying to be a smarty pants?” Was the answer.

“No I’m trying to trace a recording from a kidnapper which has this playing in the background.” I felt an icy silence as the person blushed a bit then. “I’m just finding out which vans play Greensleeves.” Silence again “There’s only two, one in the north of town and one down near the river.” My eyes opened wide — that’s here in this area…

“I’m afraid I can’t tell you where they were at 2 o’clock though.” Samantha said.

“Can you give me the phone number of the one by the river?” I felt myself pleading.

“Yes hang on a minute, 42-555-096” I scribbled down the number and read it back, “Yes you got it.” I rang off.

I dialed, “Hello Graham here?”

“Hi Graham, I’m trying to find out where you were selling ice cream today at 2pm.” I asked nervously. “I wouldn’t bother you but I need to know cos I heard your van tune in the background of a recording I got.”

“What’s the recording of then? Some criminal asking for ransom?” He said jokingly.

“That’s exactly right, and I’ll let the police know how helpful you were when I get my father back.”

“Strewth, I was joking,” Graham sucked in breath is shock.

“Do you know where you were?

“Yeah, I just had my lunch down by the Park and played the tune as I went up Park Road.”

“Thank you so much.” I rang off.

I rang the police, “Can I speak to Superintendant Crisp please?”

“He’s very busy on a case at the moment, who can I say is calling.” Came the officious reply in strangled English.

“Mr Coombes junior — I think I know where my dad is.” I was barely able to get it out I was so giddy.

“Would you like to tell me, I’ll pass the information on.” Mr Plod replied.

“No I would not, put me through to Crisp please.” I started to wind up.

“He’s not to be disturbed,”

“He’ll be disturbed if he finds out you didn’t put this call through.” I was really frantic now.

“I’ll see if I can contact him,” the sound went muffled like he’d put the phone to his chest. 20 seconds went by. “No he’s not in his office. You can tell me the information.”

“You do realise this is being recorded don’t you? By your own station as it happens (I’d have to ask later if anyone had a laugh over the desk sergeant getting ripped a new one by a minor). I know you didn’t attempt to find Crisp, you’re just being bloody minded, now do as I ask or you’ll be in more shit than Crisp already is.” Silence.

“Ah, he’sjust walked into the station, putting you through” sound of a phone being transferred. I shook my head as a leasurely voice offered. “Hello Superintendant Crisp here.”

“It’s Richard Coombes here, I think I know where Dad is.” I almost squeaked it out.

“Oh and how would you know that sir?”
Oh God this has to be a joke.

“Why not just ask where and send a car? Then ask me how I know.” I replied.

“I hope you’re not wasting police time sir.” Was the stupid reply

“Please stop being a prick like your desk officer and listen, the recording that came in this afternoon had a Greensleeves tune on it?”

“Do you think we’re stupid sir? Of course we know — but there’s hundreds of ice cream vans out there.”

“Well as you may or may not know, my mother is a real Estate Agent, this afternoon after you so callously made it obvious that my father was not being ransomed she fainted, so I went round to check the houses she was about to check.” I continued.

“And how does this relate to the ice cream van?”

“One of the houses had a car outside — an empty house. A big, empty house, an expensive house with a cheap old clunker outside. Is this starting to sound like a lead yet?” I asked sarcastically.

“Not til you tie it in with the ice cream van, but yes it’s sounding interesting,” he sounded more animated.

“I rang the company who franchises the vans, there’s only two with Greensleeves tune in their van. I spoke to Graham the owner of one van and he was at the end of Park road, the SAME road that the house is on, at two pm. The time of the call.” I almost got it out in one breath.

“Right, seems you may have something there, we’ll follow it up. Thank you Richard.”
The superintendant sounded quite pleased.

“How soon will you know?” I asked, excited.

“Well, we’ll just ring the ice cream people and check out your story and the real estate agent, then we’ll get someone down there to have a look. Our officers are very busy you know” He offered mildly.

“How about getting a car over there straight away —it will take less resources than going over the information twice.” I put the phone down — I’d go myself, at least I’d be able to make sure they didn’t move and then we’d lose them.

I jumped back on my bike and was back outside the house in ten minutes. The car was still there.
Right — still the middle of the afternoon in real terms. I picked up a dropped newspaper from the road. It gave me an idea.
I rolled the newspaper up and walked up to the door as if I was going to post it. I quietly listened and then lifted the flap of the letterbox. (they’re on the house door in UK) and had a look through the slot.
The first thing I noticed was no carpet. I listened and could hear someone pacing nervously up and down one of the rooms inside. I backed off and went back to my bike out on the pavement.

I dialed up Sandy, “I think I found dad, he’s at the house that has the car outside on Park Road, the one I told you about. I phoned the police but I got that jackass Crisp again and he said he’d check it out — I’ve been here ten minutes and there’s no sign of the police — can you chivvy them up?” Sandy barely acknowledged me before she clicked off — I phoned for an ambulance and told them I’d come off my bike. I wanted dad to be safe as soon as I could. I told the ambulance I’d go up to the house to get help — so they’d park in the drive outside.

In the next two minutes all hell broke loose, I heard the siren of the ambulance, so I walked towards the door; there were several steps up there and I wanted to be on the doorstep when the ambos arrived. So I walked up the steps and knocked on the door. I stood back waiting for whomever it was to open the door. Another set of sirens was coming from the other direction. The door opened and a guy came running out and as I stepped forward he hit me square in the chest with his body and we both went flying down the steps. I landed on him but a sudden pain from my leg said all was not well — the guy was lying under me unconscious.
I couldn’t move — the pain was excruciating.

Screeching brakes and sirens stopped by me. Uniforms were everywhere.
“In the house, in the house,” I yelled — “get my dad”. I pushed the ambo away from me.
I could feel warm liquid trickling down my leg.

“You first,” he said, trying to ascertain what was stopping me moving.

“No, No! my dad, he’s in the house you have to help him.” Suddenly a voice rang out.

“Searg, we’ve found a man in ‘ere all trussed up but unconscious.” When the other ambo heard that, he ran into the house while the one who was looking after me found what was pinning me down. I’d landed on a bamboo tomato cane and it had gone through my leg.
He eased the cane out of the ground and rolled me over to reveal the other guy. The unconscious man under me was rather worse — he’d got a cane protruding from his shoulder and one from his other arm. His head had landed on a paving stone and blood was pooling under his head. He was still breathing.

Another ambulance arrived and as they got me onto a stretcher with the ‘arrow’ through my leg, Dad arrived in another stretcher next to me and my Aunt arrived on the other side. “Oh my God, what happened?” The shock was setting in and I was a bit out of it by then. As I slipped quietly into the blackness of shock and passed out, I could see my dad coming round in the stretcher next to me — his bonds had been cut and he looked a bit bruised and damaged but not serious.

I came round in hospital; my mother was holding one hand, Sandy the other. My dad was lying on the next cot, mum was holding his hand too — he had drips in his arm and a bandage round his head. He looked like he’d been knocked about a bit — he had black eyes and a cut on his cheek.

“Dad!” I cried out when I saw him. Mum gripped my hand and so did Auntie Sandy, “He’s going to be fine — he’s been beaten up a bit but he’s Ok.”

Suddenly I was aware of what I was wearing. A nightie. I closed my eyes and swallowed -I looked at my chest. My constricting garment was obviously not on my body.

“They cut off your clothes when you were in A&E,” Mum looked down at me with a look of compassion, “don’t worry, Sandy has told me all about it.”

Tears started at the back of my eyes, I felt ashamed that I’d not told my own family.
“It’s ok, you told the twins and Sandy, you just wanted to be safe before you told us.”
Mum squeezed my hand.

“Why did that man kidnap Daddy?” I asked, then suddenly aware I’d used daddy as a noun.

“There’s a bit of Irony there; Daddy had to foreclose on his mortgage because he wasn’t paying; he’d been given a chance, but he was gambling and instead of getting help he tried to win back what he’d lost. It never works.
It was actually his house before, which was why he had the keys. His wife divorced him and he lost his job — he just cracked under the strain. He wanted to punish someone — he thought Daddy was the person who had caused all his trouble.” Mum recounted the story.

“So what is all this with you, is this what I am to expect now? Sandy said you’ve made a decision about your future already?” She looked both concerned and anxious, “no need to blush missy!” she chided, “seems a bit late for that eh?” The look she gave me was guarded, there was a look of fear and uncertainty — well outside the comfort zone.

I blanched then blushed to my roots. I looked at mum again to see what sort of reaction she was disposed towards. She seemed to gather herself and put on a face of calm and accepting. I never felt so vulnerable in my life. There was little I could do to avoid the runaway road roller.

Mum looked down at me and sighed, “I’m not sure I can condone the method of your self administered drug regime, but the blood test they took came back quite well balanced. More by luck than judgment I think.” She looked chagrined. She put her head back and took a deep breath

“I reckon I could get used to having a girl.” She continued after a while, “There’s a lot of things I’ll get to do that I never would with a son!” She tried to smile down at me, the smile slipping into trepidation

Dad groaned — I looked over at him. “Does he know?” I winced at the thought of him seeing me naked. The tension in my leg making me wince even more.
“How bad is my leg? It’s burning and throbbing a bit, like it’s been stung by wasps.”

“Which do you want me to answer first?” She looked at me, I was agitated, shaken but not stirred . “Leg will have two tiny scars, you’ll still look fine in a bikini…” I blushed.

“Oh yes, Dad, he was awake when they cut the bandage off!” Mum smirked at Sandy, “I think I can safely say that he was wide awake for a minute or two after seeing your ‘attributes’ on display!”

I blushed anew, “Oh God, what did he say? Was he angry?” I was looking over at him at his bruised and swollen face and the bandage.

“Of course when Brad” my eyes started out of my head “Brad started cutting the vest off, we couldn’t understand why you’d be wearing such a tight vest. Then we realised what was under it. To answer your question though, no, he was sort of disappointed and hurt more than anything. So was I” I could see mum was holding back tears. “Why darling? why couldn’t you have told us?”

My eyes flicked from Sandy to mum and back. I took a deep breath. “Well to be honest, it was because you’re too law abiding.” Mum frowned.

“How does that affect what you did, what you risked without telling us?” More agitated now.

“I imagined a scenario, where I told you the truth.” I began. I paused to frame the story. “ I come to you, ‘mummy I’m a girl inside, I need to be allowed to be me.” I watched her face as she imagined it. “Your reaction would be first, incredulity, then guilt, then denial, then you’d tell me I was being silly.” I was watching as those emotions crossed her face.

“No darling, we’d have listened.”

“What - like you listened when I said I didn’t want to go to that school?” I shot back. The look on mum’s face was stricken. “Sorry, that was unfair.”

“Actually it wasn’t unfair, we didn’t listen did we? We took the word from the therapist and ignored what you wanted. For that, I’m really sorry.” Mums face was introspective like she was rewriting the part of the scenario.

“Anyway, back to the scenario. After a bit of denial, you’d have seen the therapist and he’d have said ‘there’s nothing I can do until Richard is 18’. By which time I’d have a male physique, a male head, a beard and no chance to be a normal girl. Do you realise how restrictive the law is? The therapist does know because I told him …” I glanced at them both and they looked a bit shocked, “and he told me he wouldn’t refer me to a gender shrink until I was 16. Which is next week anyway. And they’d mess me about for a year so I’d be no better off. This was over a year ago, that I told him”

I lay back as a wave of pain made me uncomfortable. Dad groaned and tossed about a bit but didn’t wake. Mum and Sandy absorbed the diatribe I’d just spouted. It looked like mum was about to say something a couple of times. Then she abruptly sat down on the chair that was behind her.

“Oh God, you’re absolutely right — we would have believed the therapist just the same way we already have. We’d have allowed him to ruin your youth and you would have been so bitter.” She shuddered as tears leaked between her closed eyelids. Sandy walked round my bed and stood behind mum and put her arms round her protectively.

“Rich took responsibility for his own actions and I have to say it was irresponsible but probably for the best in the long run. There appear to be things wrong with the system that we can’t change.”

For a minute or two we were silent, I was aware suddenly that my father was looking through one open eye at me.

“Hello everyone, I appear to have missed something?” his voice sounded a bit muffled like he was talking through a mouthful of cotton wool. I expected him to say, “I could have been a contender,” but I guess the situation called for more gravity.

I looked at him as he shifted a bit so he could look at me better. “I was listening to your scenario, you got one thing wrong,” he swallowed painfully.

“What was that dad?”

“You missed out the bit about me shouting that we knew best and you should do as you’re told and stop being a clever bugger.” He licked his cracked lips and winced. “Could I get a drink, please?”

Suddenly mum came to life and rushed round to him. “How are you feeling darling?”

“All shook up,” he tried to grin and winced again. Mum fed him a straw and he sucked on it to slake his thirst — good job it was sitting in a glass of water or it wouldn’t have worked.

“All of a sudden it doesn’t seem as important as it might have done two days ago.” He lay back and stared at the ceiling.

“I’m lying next to a heroine, a young person who not only worked out where her kidnapped father was, but used what resources were available, contacted a bunch of police who were totally inept and when they didn’t show, went out and single handed, tackled the kidnapper who was beating her father to a pulp, saving his life at the risk of her own. ….. I think that means our child is not only grown up, but certainly able to make any and all decisions about her own life.”

The tears in my eyes were now of joy rather than guilt and pain. Dad looked grieved, he’d lost his pride and joy. Rebecca had stolen him. He looked away for a minute mum dabbed at his eyes with a tissue. He looked back at me with a tender but bruised smile — it was the most incredible display of bravery I’d ever seen.

“Rich… that’s stupid, we can’t call you Richard,” mum looked at dad and said, “I think our daughter can name herself under the circumstances.”

“Rebecca Dianne.” I whispered.

“Dianne was your great gran’s name,” mum smiled, “you knew that, I told you years ago; you asked me. Have you known so long?” Mum’s eyes were round as saucers.

“I’ve always known. I thought it wise not to say, until I could do something about it. I wanted to tell so much, but it was impossible — right from the earliest time, I knew that it was not something you spout about. Remember when I was about 4 mum? I said, ‘when do I get to be a girl like Angie and Sarah?’”

“I said, you don’t get to be a girl, stop being silly. I remember you asking — I thought it was silly that you didn’t know that boys didn’t turn into girls — seems I was wrong.”
No, I don’t think you’re wrong, I was always a girl.”

We sat around after that just passing time as we recovered.
Mum looked the worst — her eyes were haunted, but she was at peace. She had hold of each of our hands and Sandy was behind her with her hands draped over her shoulders.
Dad had slipped back into a recuperative sleep he looked ghastly and it looked worse by the minute as his bruises came to the fore and his face swelled more. He groaned when he moved, it wasn’t only his face that was bruised. Now and then he moved in a dream. His actions those of someone being thrashed — trying to escape, cowering almost. His dreams were reliving the episode and were part of getting over it — It wasn’t easy to watch. Mum tended him as he sweated in his torture. We moved as a family, each tending to the other’s needs.

Eventually he drifted into deeper sleep and we were able to relax from our torture of watching him.

The doctor came round presently, with Brad who grabbed my clipboard and said, “this patient is not to be released — she has to be sectioned under the mental health act.” He had a huge grin on his face so we knew he wasn’t serious.

He came over and put his hand on my shoulder.

“When I saw you and Ted come in with a police escort, I was just so glad you were not badly hurt —the ambulance had radioed in and said non life threatening injuries to you and Ted but severe head trauma and puncture wounds to the other guy , I thought you must have stabbed him. Then I saw the condition you were all in and I nearly let the other guy suffer to get to you two first.” He laughed gently.

“Then I thought I’d better get the suspect into surgery — he had some very serious injuries. He’s in intensive care — what did you hit him with?” He was half serious asking.

“Me, - he actually came out of the front door at a run and ran smack into me. We fell off the steps into the garden — I landed on him.” I was suddenly worried. “I won’t get charged with assault or anything will I? He can’t sue me or anything?”

Sandy shook her head, “You might get a bravery award, that’s about it — oh the police might want a statement about it but that can wait, I can swear an affidavit if need be.”

“I have to say you looked a sight when you came in, you were covered in blood — with what looked like an arrow in your leg! Like something out of a wild west show.
When I checked you over there was just the one wound and it wasn’t bleeding much at all — it had gone through the flesh at the side of your thigh. All the blood belonged to the kidnapper. We’ve checked it- he doesn’t have any communicable disease so you’re safe. The cane we cut and removed — it was pretty clean as it was and the wound was very small but it did bruise quite a bit. What was funniest was,” he grinned and indicated my chest area. “I thought there’s been some trauma because of the blood so we cut your shirt off — Well you can imagine my surprise when I discovered… well what I discovered..” He grinned with a sort of embarrassed smile. “Sorry about the loss of dignity.”

I lifted the bed cover and looked down at the dressing on my leg — it was only quite light. But the bruising was showing both sides “Well I guess no harm done, it seems to have sorted one or two things out.” I looked at my chest before I let the bedclothes fall back over me.

“Oh about the blood test,” He looked at me quizzically.

I raised my eyebrows. “Uncle, you don’t need to quantify that, I’ve had a blood test this last week but haven’t got the results yet — I presume it’s a little unusual for a teenage boy?” I grimaced a bit.

“Before you go any further Doctor.” Sandy interrupted. Brad looked at her a little astonished at the term. “My client would appreciate any information to be kept doctor patient confidential.” Brad goldfished. Sandy smiled and said — “Let it be.”

Dad had come round by this time, he still wasn’t really with us but he was awake. He looked at Ted, “How about me? What did that bastard do to me, I feel like he’s been kicking me for days with hobnailed boots on. My head feels like a world cup final football — AFTER the match, and my side, chest and legs feel like they’ve been in a stampede ”

“Well you’re bruised all over and there’s a lot of small cuts and abrasions but nothing serious. Maybe a cracked rib or two, but we’re keeping you in overnight for obs in case of a concussion. He appears to have hit you round the head with something padded so there’s no breaks or broken skin” (We found out later he put a couple of bars of soap in a sock and used it as a cudgel). The abrasions were from the bindings and being dragged about.

We all relaxed — as much as we could — the duty doctor that had come in with Brad professed me to be fit to be discharged but dad was to stay in overnight.

It was nearly 10.30pm — so the whole episode had only taken 6 hours or so.

We chatted for a while and Sandy and Brad went home as Brad had finished his shift and knocked off

The hospital gave me some clean scrubs to go home in.
Mum had to help me to the car after we said goodnight to a groggy dad — they’d given him a bit of a sedative so he could get a decent night’s sleep. Mum’s sedative had worn off thankfully.

We felt greatly relieved that it was all but over. I looked at mum as she drove —she was biting her lip and her eyes looked startled. “You ok mummy?” I saw a tear start down her cheek in the light from an oncoming car.

She pulled over and turned off the engine.

“Oh God, what an awful day it’s been, I’ve never been through so much trauma in one day.” She shook and sobbed and I grabbed her and we hugged each other til the emergency passed.

“I’m so sorry mum. Honest.” I squeezed her arm for a reaction. She sat there a minute.

“It’s alright Richard, Rebecca, sorry. I’m just so happy we’re all ok — even more ok really than we were this morning — I thought there was something wrong with you and dad was missing maybe killed by someone. I was so frightened. My whole life had seemingly come off the rails, in one day — nightmare stuff ” She balled the tissue she’d dried her eyes with in her hand. “Then my amazing son finds his dad and saves him, stopping the criminal, then turns into my daughter — all in a few hours.” She smiled ruefully.
“I think I need a holiday.”

Mum put the car back in gear and we drove home. When we got there we were confronted with a load of people at the gate — fortunately it opened as usual and we drove in — it closed behind us and we left the reporters in the road.

When we got in the phone was ringing, but the interceptor was still doing its job and took the message — there were 37 messages on the tape — we didn’t hear them.

“Would you like a cocoa?” Mum and I had walked in the house arm in arm. Mutually supportive. We were followed by flashes but at that distance there wouldn’t be much to print.
“Love one, but I’ll make it.” I stepped towards the kettle but my leg wouldn’t answer the call and I had to let mum make it after all. I perched on the stool feeling a bit tender.

“My bike is still in Park Road,” I remembered suddenly. “I’ll bet it’s been wogged by now.” (English slang for thieved)
“No, it’s in the police station, the constable who came to the hospital when you were out of it told me. They’ll return it tomorrow… in return for statements”

We drank our cocoa slowly cradling it in our hands, we looked at each other — mum for the first time really drinking in her newfound daughters face; the daughter for the first time noting their similar features.

“Can I explain…?”

“Tomorrow darling, tell me tomorrow.”

We went to bed.

The next morning I retrieved the paper from the gate as mum rang the hospital to see if dad was awake.
The papers had a  ½ column on page 4 about dad’s kidnapping and a small picture of me through the car window taken outside the gate.

‘Heroine saves father from brutal attack’.

I shrugged at the headline, they don’t know anything more than they got from the police.

Quote/“The solving of the case was totally down to the actions of Rebecca” States the family lawyer Sandra Hurley. “She selflessly and bravely confronted the Kidnapper to save her father.
The police spokesman Superintendant Crisp stated that “the young person involved should not have interfered and put their life in danger while the matter was in the hands of the police.”/quote

My god he’s still at it.

“Smile Please Rebecca” I looked at the gate and heard the clack, clack, clack of the camera taking a series of shots.
I turned away, embarrassed by the sudden use of my new name- everyone on Earth knows already and I only told my mum last night.

“Dad’s ok and the doctor says he can come home this morning — he needs some clean clothes and stuff. He says he’s really stiff from the damaged muscles but he can walk ok.”

“I need some new clothes too,” I placed the paper in front of mum and pointed to the report.
“Oh, Rebecca already. That was clever of Sandy to make sure you were properly attributed. Yes, you’ll need to be properly dressed — wouldn’t do to have you in boy’s clothes for the paparazzi would it?” She grinned, more like her old self this morning.

“I threw out my clothes from yesterday, they’re all cut up and covered in blood” — they had given them to me in a plastic bag as I left the hospital. “I am a bit up in the air about getting some clothes to be honest.”

“Why? we just need to get you a pair of pants to replace your old ones.” Mum smirked at me. “Do you realise how long I lay awake last night planning your wardrobe?” The grin was wider.

“Mummy, nothing would suit me more, than to go out and be me. However let’s take this one day at a time eh? I haven’t got one thing that shows me as female.” I complained, thinking about my school ID and my bus pass and all that stuff with Richard on it.

Mum looked at me and then down at my boobs and then at me again with raised eyebrows,” No, but there are two things….”

We finished breakfast and washed up. I was just about to go upstairs when a light tap on the door and Sandy walked in with the twins behind — they just about mowed me down like a herd of stampeding gazelle. Pronking (like a horse pig rooting — I hope you know what that is) just in front of me to turn the ‘mowing’ into a hugging. “EEEEEE” the squeal was almost mind altering, like the whistle of a falling shell.

Once the hubbub had died down, we discussed what the order of the day was.
The twins were all for retail therapy but instead had raided their wardrobes for some clothes. Sarah raced out to the car and brought in three bags. They were obviously not groceries.

“Gently now girls,” Sandy admonished. “This could be very overwhelming..”

“It really isn’t Aunty,” I countered, “there’s no reason I shouldn’t wear this stuff, I’m shaped for it and I’ve pretty much been waiting for this week. Well after the weekend anyway.”

A slight nod of acknowledgement was all it took for my hands to be grabbed and me bodily removed to a place of more privacy for the girlish pursuit of Barbie Dressing.
I was not nimble on the stairs and the girls were impatient.

“This is fantastic, mum told us all about what happened — you’re so brave,” Ang hugged me and Sarah added, “and so clever too”

I was standing on one leg with the toe of my left leg touching the ground — I couldn’t put much weight on it as it was really sore.

“Right — first of all we need to measure you then we can sort out which clothes will fit.”

“Can I sit down, please?” I was hopping a bit — my leg was throbbing.

“Oh my — we forgot about your leg. Can we see?” Sarah helped me over to the bed.

“C’mon slip your pants down and let us look at the damage.” Ang hovered over me ready to help me.

I undid my belt — and hopped my rear off the bed and slid my pants over my derriere.

The bandage was about 6 inches wide taped to my thigh — the bruise was from my hip to my knee and black like a raven.

Both girls suddenly burst into tears, “That’s awful, you brave thing — it must hurt heaps. We had no idea it was so bad, we’re really sorry; we shouldn’t have made you walk up stairs.” Ang put her arm across my shoulder and hugged me sideways. I could see tears of sympathy in her eyes.

“Let’s not worry about the rest of it for now — Size 12 skirt — 34B top.” I said, “flat shoes thanks, size 6  ½ - I can wear my sandals if you haven’t something that will do”

The girls were a bit more subdued, I could tell they were a bit embarrassed to have treated me so off handed when I’d been injured. “Hey cheer up, I didn’t lose my virginity you know.” I tried to be a little chipper. It worked a bit.

“Which one, your boy or girl virginity?” Angie spluttered and went a bit pink.

“I haven’t got any way to lose my girl virginity now, have I?”

“Well your leg is WELL stuffed.” Sarah guffawed. She handed me a full circle denim skirt and a pink angora short sleeved top.
“These are classics and will look good even on a boy. On you they will be fabulous,” she added suddenly conscious of her faux pas.

“Wait,” Ang held up her hand, “I have here something she needs more than the classics.” She handed me a nice plain 34B bra, no wire, no lace.

“Try this; it should give you a bit of support and shape.” Sarah grinned.

I turned it over in my hand. “Um need a hand, I’ve never tried one on.” I looked down at it in dismay — I felt like a boy trying on girls clothes.

“Ok,” Sarah said gently, “no need to panic, this is a serious moment — a girl’s first bra.”

She helped me off with the t shirt I was wearing and the singlet, “Hold out your arms. No wait. You need to put it on yourself. Turn the back to the front first, then you can see the hooks and eyes.” She showed me —

“I know the mechanics of the hooks and stuff.” I countered — “just not the adjustments.”

Sarah was eyeing me up now that I was naked from the waist up. “Nice software.”

I donned the garment finding it awkward at first to work out how to get the fleshy bits to sit comfortably. Sarah moved in front of me and showed me what to do.
All of a sudden it felt right — and I was being supported properly. I looked at the twins sort of shocked — “It works, I actually feel really comfortable.”

“Well der…” Ang smiled and shook her head as if not believing the statement. “Do you honestly think we’d bother if they didn’t work?”

“No, I guess not.”

The rest of the outfit looked really nice and I felt normal for once. I had to wear my sandals — all the offered footwear felt tight or too loose. I really wasn’t keen on wearing someone else’s shoes either.

Angie helped me up to stand in front of the mirror — I looked fine. No amazing, but ok nonetheless.

Mum’s head popped round the door edge, took in the appearance of three girls and smiled — “Well that didn’t take you long.” She was about to say something else then stopped. “I’m going to pick up dad, do you want to come with us or wait here?”

“Wait here thanks, my leg is really not up to wandering through a hospital.” I was still taking all the weight on my left leg, and the ache was making me a bit spacey. “Don’t take too long, I really want to see him. I didn’t realise before how much his being around means to me.”

“Me either darling, I’ll have him home soon as may be.” Mum finger waved at us all and her head disappeared from round the door.

We heard the car move out of the garage onto the gravel drive then move off.
“C’mon let’s go and get a cuppa and some bikkies.” I said holding out my hands to the girls for support.

Soon I was sipping a nice hot coffee and surrounding a few hobnobs.
I flicked on the monitor at the gate and it was free of gawpers. We’d had our 15 mins of fame.

The Way Things Happen

A semi autobiographical story about a youngster who crosses the fence because of PAIS. I've writen about 5 or 6 pieces of this and will try to finish it in about 7 or 9 pieces. Here's piece number one

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Here I am at 15, I look in the bathroom mirror with my razor in hand, looking, nay peering, through the misted mirror searching in vain for a hair to annihilate… huh, fat chance…

“Nige?… when did you first start shaving?”

A gruff voice from the shower where my older brother resides daily for twenty minutes returns a merry, “about 12 why? Still a razor virgin eh, you little wimp?”

“OK Mr Clint Eastwood — just coz you reckon to be God’s gift” I rinsed the razor and replaced it in the medicine cabinet, not knowing that the first time I would use it would be to denude my legs of the fine downy bumfluff that covered it like gossamer…

I felt wretched, would I never grow up? — would I never have a voice that commanded respect?

I returned to the bedroom and dressed for school — Boy’s Public School — uniform, hated by every boy since 1893 — in this particular school anyway since that was when it was built. Grey flannel trousers and a grey shirt black blazer with red piping red and black tie…. And, thank God we no longer had to wear them after 1st year, a cap that looked like a cricketer’s nightmare.

A voice wafted up the stairs, “Nigel, Jerry, if you’re not down in five minutes, the dog gets your breakfast!”

“Rusty doesn’t like porridge, so your bluff is called mum!” I shrilled back down…

“Less backchat or you’re biking to school and it’s pouring down”

I looked in the mirror again as I brushed my hair and I suddenly focused on the picture on the wall behind my reflection — Karen Carpenter — I realised while my hair was all over the side before I swept it back into a low slung pony tail that I actually looked like her… I was stunned, unable to move til I heard my brother thunder down the stairs like a herd of buffalo — which considering he only had the regulation two legs, was quite a feat — or should that be feet?

If I was any more tardy the porridge would be engulfed by Mr Garbage Bin and I would see only the bottom of the dish.

As mum dropped us off at school, Nigel headed off to the upper sixth form block and I saw him no more that day.

I did however take time to look at myself during morning break — in the scarred and damp scoured mirror that lined the toilet block wall above the sink.

I looked no worse, in fact I reckon I was looking pretty good until I realised that my nemesis was watching from the door..

“Coo, Jerry has a vain streak, perhaps we could help him out with his looks eh?” he called to his cronies, but he backed off as a couple of sixth formers pushed him out of the way and separated him from his support group. He knew that my brother was a prefect and understood the penalty for bullying was severe at this school — he only got to use his mouth and he wasn’t particularly adept at that.

My mind was in a funk, I had twice looked at myself and found that for some reason, I looked like a girl. Hey I was no buff he-man like my brother, but I was average height and rakish I suppose you’d call it — 5’7” and skinny… about 100lbs soaking wet — but it was wiry I told myself, ‘I wasn’t a weed…was I?’ I thought…nah.

When I got home that evening I realised I had spent nearly all day wondering what was happening to me — or rather, what had already happened. I took off my uniform and slid into my jeans and a black sloppy Tshirt — with Led Zeppelin on the front. I didn’t actually like it but I felt I had to show as much teenage angst as possible… and Led Zeppelin was about as awful as I could bear.

I took the band off my hair as I sat at my dresser and let it fall over my shoulders and brushed the kinks out, as I usually did, and slowly oh so slowly I realised that as I brushed, I looked in the mirror and I appeared more and more female — not in a dreamlike sense, but in a real recognition of who I really was, a skinny guy with nice hair, or a slim girl with small hands and long fingers. No acne marred my complexion, no Adam’s Apple sat in my throat, my hair draped like silk over large soft brown eyes. I felt the stinging in my eyes that precedes tears and turned from the mirror to avoid looking into my own eyes…., “Christ, I’m a girl; what do I do now?” I couldn’t escape what I had seen, and I knew that my life was about to change, for what I realised then, I had always known, that ever since I could remember I had not liked who I was, or more really what I was, a boy, a misfit, a gawky geek with no friends.

That day in the mirror I had seen me for the first time and I knew that I was about to become everyone’s worst nightmare, a thing hated by all those who called themselves normal, someone who identified with the opposite sex. I wasn’t yet going to put my words to it because I knew that to do that would be to admit defeat and even though I knew, I was frightened — as frightened as anyone who realises that they hold a secret that will affect lives

Day 2

I sped to school on my bike the next day — a full 30 minutes early — a first in the annals of the family name.

I had had an awful night and had risen with the dawn and showered and changed almost before anyone else had even stirred. I didn’t want them to see me, I didn’t really want to see myself — I knew I was already moving away from where I had been the day before — I felt different — I knew something that no one else did and they would be able to tell. They can always tell — mothers that is, they sense it from another room even, so I kissed mum goodbye before she’d really woken.

“I have to finish my homework so I’ll get to school early and do it in the classroom before the bell” was my excuse for leaving like a tsunami was on my tail. Mum called after me. “I’d like to know what you were doing last night when you were supposed to be doing your homework?”… I took it as a rhetorical question and ignored it.

My real reason for the early start was to see the school nurse — who else could I turn to — who else could I trust? I’d been to see her every year for my jabs and stuff and she was always bright and cheerful and most importantly, she was approachable. I had thought about it all night and I’d sweated and tossed and turned in my bed and overcome my fear. I knew I was different, I needed to know how much.

I racked my bike and slipped into the clinic at the side of the school hoping no one I knew was in there — in a school of 600 boys, you get to know a lot, but not that many.

It looked like I was in luck, just the secretary and a load of empty seats met my eyes as I ‘casually’ stepped into the waiting room.

“Yes young man? Do you have an appointment?” The secretary peered over her glasses trying to appear efficient but looking more like a waspish school marm from the previous century.

“No, I just need a few minutes with the nurse, I need to ask her a few questions, if that’s alright?” I hoped she would enquire no further, I was wrong.

“And what would that be about?” she shot me a stare as if to say “out with it, out with it, boy”

In panic to delay the moment, I stammered, “didn’t anyone tell you,--- you sh-shouldn’t start a sentence with a conjunction?”

“That’ll be quite enough of that, what’s your name and what class are you in? I need to get your file”.

“J Holland miss, Lower 5y,” I added quickly to defuse the situation, I didn’t need her to be an enemy if things were to go as smoothly as I needed. She seemed to have forgotten the impertinent exchange. One to me…

“I have Jerry Holland here for you nurse” she spoke into the intercom.

“Send him in”

The secretary marched in front of me and passed the file to the nurse after ushering me into her office.

“Sit down Jerry, what seems to be the problem?”

“Well, I need some help,” I advanced, I was about to change my life and I felt a bit dizzy with the rush of blood I was now feeling — ‘I wonder how much adrenalin I just fed into my system in the last ten minutes,’ I thought blankly.

“Oh, have you hurt yourself or does this come under the realms of growing up? You look a little pale” She came round the desk and grabbed my wrist before I could answer and started to take my pulse. She looked at me sharply.

“Are you on drugs? Your pulse is going like a steam train”

“N-no, it’s nothing like that” Her face relaxed and she went back and sat at the lounge seat by the coffee table — I sensed she had just turned my nurse’s appointment into a counsellor’s one.

“So tell me, how can I help you?” She offered, pointing me to the chair nearer the coffee table, a more comfortable easy chair rather than the hard wooden one by the desk.

“I don’t really know how to say this”, I started. My mind starting to jumble all the best efforts of the explanations I had devised during the deep of the night.

I suddenly pulled an idea out of the air and tugged the band from my pony tail and shook my hair loose.

The look on the nurse’s face was one of surprise followed by a tenderness that I had never seen except on my mother’s face when I fell down the stairs and opened up my head on the chair at the bottom… “Oh my goodness, that looks very different. Tell me what you think about what you just showed me”. The nurse was canny and had given nothing away.

“Well, I think you got the picture when my hair fell forward, I am turning into a girl aren’t I?

“What makes you say that?”

I held up my hand and marked off the fingers, “Well I’m 15, and I haven’t started to shave or anything , my voice hasn’t broken and I’m just about the shortest and lightest guy in the class.--” I had started to realise just how different I was as I noted the discrepancies in my peer group.

“Well at 15 it doesn’t mean much, but it can make you feel like you’re not making the grade, I expect.”

“Well I’m not terribly good at team sports either — probably because I couldn’t stop a Chihuahua with a sore leg.” The nurse grinned and told me that there’s “not many sports that allow dogs on the team, especially handicapped like that.” I felt the tension ease a little.

“So what do you think we can do about this?” She continued to ferret at my conscience and my self perception.

“Aren’t there some tests we can do or something to see what is happening?”

“Well ok, lets do a physical to start with so we know where we are at the moment,”

I gulped and nodded not trusting my voice.

She looked at me and said quietly “don’t worry, no matter what we find, it won’t get past this door and I won’t write anything in your records until we’re sure about where we’re heading OK?”

I nodded and smiled, inside the churning abated somewhat…a line from ‘the Scarlett Pimpernel’ emerged from somewhere “Stap me vitals” it felt just like some one had !

“Right lets get you stripped off, would you like to go behind the curtain or just drop em right there?” She grinned and made light of my embarrassment. I stripped right there as she popped her head round the door and spoke to the secretary “30 minutes, no interruptions OK?” A murmured assent was enough to confirm my privacy.

At the end of 30 mins she’d tested about everything that could be tested and I was sat there at the desk as she wrote up her notes on her personal diary “this is locked away and I have the only key”, she assured me.

“Ok I’ll tell you what we’ve discovered so far. It appears your testes haven’t ‘dropped’ yet and that is indicative of your not reaching puberty yet. The other signs of puberty are also absent.

I have taken blood samples which will be analysed at the local hospital and I will write your parents a letter when I have all the data back from them. I don’t expect any changes in the two weeks which it will take to get them but if you feel the need to come and see me — please feel free — I’ll let the secretary know that you have priority. Is that OK?”

I felt stunned, “does that mean I’m going to turn into a girl then?” my head was spinning and I felt sick.

“Do you want to?” she looked at me as I squirmed without answering and allowed me to relax before she continued. “At the moment, nothing is certain, nothing is odd, just that you’re a bit late with your puberty, the blood tests will show up any other problems if they exist and I’ll let you know as soon as I can, Ok?”

“Yes nurse”

She wrote the time on a piece of paper — and signed it. “Right off you go to the next period, this’ll give you a clearance for being late”.

I felt worse than I did the day before, my future began to look like a bleak day on the moors — cold and without succour. My schoolwork that day reflected it.

Over the next two weeks I kept checking my nether regions wondering if my late start was going to happen or if it was the end of Jerry as we came to sort of know him…

I asked Nigel if he could remember when his balls dropped — “When I was about 7 “ he said grinning, “you got problems kiddo?”

I just looked back at him and smiled, “nah it’s just part of a survey on growing up we’re doing”, I lied …

Two weeks to the day as I appeared for Tuesday maths first period, the maths master intoned, “right, got a note here, er Jerry Holland, nurse wants to see you, off you go, don’t hang about, and don’t be long, you’re bad enough without taking time off”.

‘Typical’ I thought ‘I’m not in control here and I have to be back before I know how long I’ll be’.

I stepped into the clinic, and lo it was festooned with first year students — booster shots I guess… There were lights in the spare office so I guessed the local GP was doing them. I stepped up to the secretary who just pointed me to the nurse’s office “go right in Jerry” she said warmly — I got more of surprise then than I did from what the nurse said.

“Come in Jerry,” the nurse looked up and smiled, “take a seat” — I was going to say “I wouldn’t have them given” but I guessed the situation called for more gravity.

As I settled she flicked over a few pages and wrote in the margin of one or two. “Right, we need some more tests, and we need to speak to your folks,” I looked at her wide eyed with mounting fear, “nothing to worry about, but we need to make some decisions about your future,” she did her best to calm me, I didn’t respond…

“Am I dying?” I was gripping the edge of the chair to the point my knuckles were white.

“I’m so sorry Jerry, I shouldn’t have frightened you like that. No, you’re ok, very healthy, just a bit tardy physically as we thought. The blood tests showed up with about the normal levels of testosterone but there’s an enzyme missing which allows it to work, it’s causing what we call Partial Androgen Insensitivity Syndrome or PAIS which accounts for your lack of physical progress.”

I was not sure if that was a good thing — but I hoped it was curable….I asked…

“Is it curable?”

“Well we’ll organise some tests, but we need to know what you want to do with your life. We need to know whether you’re a boy or girl inside”

I felt the stinging behind my eyes again, “I don’t know who I am — I never did, I don’t feel like anyone but me,” tears formed in my eyes and slowly spilled over the bottom to run down my blotchy face — nurse passed the tissue box and tried to console me, “We’ll sort it out, don’t you worry, I’ve written a letter to your parents, is there anyone home at the moment?”

“Yeah my mum works from home, she’s a wedding planner”

“Have you discussed any of this with her?”

“Er, no, I hoped it wouldn’t amount to anything.”

“Well I want you to go back to your class with this note for Mr Gregson to tell him to cross you off for today. In the meantime I’ll ring your mum and tell her you’re on your way home — I want you to sit down with her and go over what I’ve written in the letter OK ? I’ll explain to her over the phone what it’s about”

“It’s serious isn’t it?” I looked at her with dread in my heart for the answer..

“Well, I won’t lie to you, it may change some things, but it’s not dangerous and I think you have a wonderful chance that everything will turn out well.”

It didn’t make me feel a whole lot better.

Week 3

I was so frightened of what my mum would say that I almost didn’t go home — but I knew the inevitable would be unavoidable so I submitted to the worst journey of my life — I felt like my bike was a tumbrel and my home the guillotine. (Author’s note: a “Tumbrel” is the carriage that took the nobles to Madame la Guillotine during the French Revolution)

As my key slid into the door mum opened it from inside and suddenly I was enveloped in a warm and loving embrace, “oh my darling., why didn’t you tell me?”

I almost never got the chance to say anything as I half suffocated, clasped as I was to her, she isn’t strong, but she was putting in some bicep effort.

Eventually I was released and she ushered me through to the kitchen and made some tea as I slipped off my school pack and my jacket.

I offered her the letter, which she took with a huge sigh, as if to say, ‘Ok lets see what we are in for’.

She read slowly and she then reread it as she sipped her tea eventually she sat down and read it again. I could sense her eyes glistening rather than see tears.

A few minutes passed and I finished my tea and poured us both another from the pot.

Mum’s lip was trembling a bit and she looked a bit pale — I started to feel sick.

“Tell me mum, tell me, the silence is killing me” the guillotine took another thump.

“Ok, we have to take you for some sort of Xrays and some more blood tests. Then we have to see a psychiatrist.”

“What the hell for? I’m not insane!” I was incensed — I was going to give that nurse what for later…

“Settle down Jerry, the shrink will be able to help you make some decisions, I will too, but I don’t know how to start.. oh God, what will your father say?”

“Decisions about what?” I was getting angry.

“Well it seems you have some choices here and you don’t, if as the blood tests show, that you aren’t responding to testosterone, then it’s likely that you never will, no matter how much they pump into you, and if that’s the case, you will grow up looking more like a girl as that’s sort of the ‘default’ situation.”

“We need to help you decide how to make a decision whether to live as an effeminate man or to undergo reassignment and grow up as a girl.

“REASSIGNMENT???” I stood up just as everything went a fuzzy white then black.

I awoke some thirty years/seconds later with a wet flannel on my brow and my head nestled in my mother’s arms on the kitchen floor…she was rocking back and forth and crying buckets, I reached up and touched her face, “It’s ok mum, honest, it was just such a shock”. I didn’t tell her that the shock wasn’t all bad.

We hugged and let it out for a few minutes then my bum was getting numb from the lino’ so I sat up and we reassembled ourselves.

We looked a sorry pair but we had suddenly bonded, I wondered if this is what being a girl was all about.

Nigel came home and imitating his usual buffalo herd raided the fridge and headed for his room to change… he didn’t notice the subdued pair sitting at the kitchen table.

We had spent the afternoon jotting down all the things we were going to have to do over the next few weeks — and what decisions I was going to be making.

The thing that headed the list was CONFIRMATION…

We needed a second opinion and some X-rays so mum had already phoned the hospital, she had been given a date so far down the road that would have been drawing my pension before the day of my x-ray dawned. So she made a plan of attack and asked the doctor to refer me for a suspected crack in my pelvis — due to a sports injury — and had got a next day appointment… crafty huh?

Being as how that was Wednesday, I realised I would have another day off school — which wasn’t so bad really as I hated Wednesdays — Rugby all afternoon — They still believe wars were won on the playing fields of England… the only wars I saw won were the ones waged against the weaker individuals. I know that it looked like a majority win but some of us were left just that little bit lower on the pecking order week by week. I think I was the only kid in school last year who never needed to wash his kit… I never ever went near the ball. I was the last to be picked in any team event — sure, I knew (I had assured myself) that meant they were saving the best til last, but it sucked just the same.

I sat in my bedroom that Tuesday evening, somehow everything was different. I knew I was heading down a road less gravelled — bumpier and more savage but ultimately more beautiful and more natural (for me anyway).

My father hadn’t been clued in as yet — but mum said she was going to talk to him when they were in bed. She said it would be ok — ‘dad would understand’. I was sitting here with just about every appendage and my eyes crossed that it was so.

I felt like my nerves were stretched and I was on the verge of sobbing my heart out — I was frightened beyond belief. Last month I was just another slightly underdeveloped kid in school, now I didn’t know if I was even in the right school.

A knock on the door made me jump back into the present, “can I come in?” Dad asked softly. My eyes felt like saucers in fear as he opened the door. I searched his face for some sign of his temper. He wasn’t an angry man or homophobic as far as I knew but he was dangerous once a moral line was crossed.

“How are you feeling?” he enquired gently as he sat by my side on the bed. I realised as he sat that I wasn’t even in bed — I was still sat on the edge — and had been for hours…on the edge…

“I’m ok, I guess, just anxious, I don’t really know what to think, what’s happening Dad?” I looked into his eyes, searching for an answer, he put out his arm and even though I hadn’t hugged him for nearly 6 years, I fell into his arms and burst into tears.

My father still loves me. I hugged him till my knuckles were white and I was all cried out — about 4 years by the feel of it — his pyjamas were wet.

When I had lapsed into the occasional hic and snuffle stage, he gently released me and uttered a profound truth, “Whoever you are and whatever you do, I will always love you. You are my child and I will do anything to ensure your right to pursue happiness and love whichever way suits you best.”

The pounding of my heart returned and I smiled at him, “where did you read that one?” I jibed.

“Actually, I said it from here,” he said touching his chest with his palm, “and I mean every word.”

“Good enough for me,” I said with a rueful smirk.

“Night son-er kiddo” he put his hand on my shoulder, “don’t forget to brush your teeth and don’t stay up too late, you need your beauty sleep,” suddenly he winced, “sorry, no offence.”

“None taken, night dad.’ That phrase about beauty sleep had been used by the family for years… it would never have the same connotation.

“Come on Jerry, you need to shower and make sure you put clean underwear on,” came distantly from the kitchen along with the smell of bacon — yum.

I shambled, half in sleep to the bathroom (a silly thought occupied my mind… I would put on dirty underwear? EEEww) where Nigel was just finishing up — he still had no idea what was going on… “morning Jeps, up late playing with yourself again? You should be wearing boxing gloves in bed.” Sibling jokes are disgusting first thing in the morning….

He left me to it and I finished my ablutions and joined him at the breakfast table 5 mins later — which is par for the course if you’re a 15 year old boy… I guess.

“Nigel, we’re having a family meeting tonight and you will be home at 6pm to attend Ok?” there was a business like sound to mum’s voice, Nigel looked at me curiously, I shrugged.

“Sure I’ll be home as per”.

He noticed I wasn’t dressed for school “hey, how come Jerry isn’t going to school?” God, anyone would think that I wanted this interruption to my life.

“Never you mind, just make sure you’re home at 6.”

We ate our bacon and beans. I thought of “Blazing Saddles” and pitied Nigel’s classmates this morning.

…………………

There are few things as evocative as a hospital smell, they speak of birth and death, illness, trauma and pain. They almost never evoke the feeling of improvement or getting better. How miserable is the smell of disinfectant.

We sat having waited the customary two hours in the inner sanctum of the X ray dept.

I had been sitting in one of those awful ‘tie up the back’ things seemingly forever. I was cold and sad.

“OK son, this way, lets have a look at that pelvis of yours” he beckoned, “Well you seem to be walking Ok,” I had forgotten to limp but I guess subterfuge was a lacking skill of mine.

“Hop up on the table and lie flat on your back,” I made an effort to look pained as I moved onto the gurney that was more akin to a morgue slab than a table. Wasted effort, he wasn’t even looking at me

After manipulating me this way and that and “hold still” and “don’t breathe” a few times as the machinery clicked and buzzed, “Right, all done, you can get dressed now, wait outside and we’ll give you an initial impression and send the results to your GP.”

Twenty minutes later, feeling much warmer in my street clothes, my reverie was broken by the x-ray guy returning with four large sheets of film.

He spoke quietly to my mother, but little pigs have big ears.

“Well Mrs Holland, your boy hasn’t got a break, but we will send these on to the GP as there’s something else we’d like him to look at.”

My mother, bless her heart, looked him right in the eye… “which is why we wanted the x ray in the first place, but you said you couldn’t fit him in til September — which is 4 months away. So I lied.”

“Oh, right, so you know about his slight — er — underdevelopment?”

“Well we have an idea, we just need to confirm the problem.” My mother looked him up and down as she spoke. “But we couldn’t get anyone to take us seriously yesterday, so I told them it was an injury”

“Do you know the name of the person you were speaking to?” The lab tech asked.

“A Mr Ashburton” The contrast between his white coat and his face took on a distinct higher ratio, “Oh, that’s me… I am sorry”.

“Well no harm done,” she looked round the empty waiting room, “well I must get on, and I can see you’re very busy.” Contrast altering once more, the tech bid us good day.

Mum suddenly turned to him before he could leave with the x rays…”Would you like me to improve your efficiency even more? I could take those with me — we’re on the way to the Doctor’s now”

He actually smiled sheepishly as he handed them over, “it’s against the rules, but I guess it is ok”.

Mum took me home and then went out again, I guess she’d gone to the doctor’s without me. I really didn’t want to know anyway — I was in pure denial and I was really feeling quite ill with anxiety. I guess mum knew that.

When she came in she made us some coffee and we sat once more in the afternoon sunlight. She reached out and took my hand. “This is going to be the hardest thing I’ve ever done sweetie, so please let me finish before you start in to me.” I could see the pain in her eyes, this was not good, my heart revved a notch and I started to feel sweaty.

“The doctor looked at the x-rays and said that the size and density of your testes means that you will never be able to mature as a fertile man. That’s not to say that you will be unable to have sex, just that you won’t be able to father children.

That’s all he can say right now until we try to correct the problem with hormone therapy, which is the next step.

The doctor also said that depending on the tests that are already being carried out on your blood samples, the type of Androgen Insensitivity you have will be diagnosed and what they can do will be according to those results.”

“What does all that mean in real terms mum? Does it mean I get to stay a man or what?” the ‘or what’ was what was making my mind spin..

At this point I really knew that even though I was supposed to me a male, I had blown it big time. My nuts were useless and I was firing blanks… not that I’d ever fired anything yet — not even a damp squib… I trembled as the reality hit me…

“Don’t answer that last one, I don’t think I can bear to hear it yet.”

I left the table and sought refuge in my room — I wasn’t crying, but I was hyperventilating and felt very strange. I looked around my room — Airfix models of Warplanes hung over the desk in the corner — relics of my hand eye coordination learning days. A couple of pics of my fave footy team, Liverpool. A poster of the Carpenters… the detail my eye was capturing was probably a result of the amount of adrenalin in my system.

Ah Karen, what did you do to me? I was suddenly in a rage — ripped the posters off the wall and tore at the fishing line that hung the planes from the ceiling, the noise was amazing considering the small nature of the conflict…

The debris littered the floor, and I stood panting with the wing of a bomber in my hand — like Thor with a thunderbolt.

“I SAID, ARE YOU ALRIGHT?” came up the stairs when the pounding in my ears abated.

“Yeah yeah, just altering my room a bit,” I shouted back between gulps.

I later fixed the tear in and rehung the Carpenters poster.

I looked at my watch, 3.20pm — the library was still open — I need to get a book about this AIS thing — I hit the stairs at the run — mum stood back as I shot past her, “just going to the library — I need some information…”

“STOP” - I skidded to halt “what do you want now? the library shuts in  ½ an hour and it takes 20 minutes to get there”

In her hand was a book the thickness of a telephone directory. “the doctor lent me this”

I expected it to have the title “All you need to know about Gender.” But it was just “Endocrinology and Enzyme Function Volume 2” boring as hell.

“He said chapter 12 has it all in about you, he’s been reading it all day. It’ll answer your questions better than a published tome about transsexuals and gender reassignment” She looked sad and very deflated. “I’ve just been reading it myself, interesting if a bit dry.”

I looked at her dry mouthed as I realised that that was what I was, a transsexual. Someone with the body of the wrong sex…. But I hadn’t yet worked out which way round I was.

Confused and saddened by my mother’s face and stance, I took the heavy tome from her and started up the stairs, mum put her hand on my shoulder, “It’s ok petal, you’ve got a great chance of coming out of this intact — but maybe not as Jerry OK?

I turned and put my arms around her neck and buried my face in her soft shoulder.

“I’ll be Ok mum, I just need to find where I’m at,” I blubbered into her shoulder.

6PM — mum switched off the TV.

Nigel complained “Hey,” then shut up as he saw mum’s face, “what the hell is the matter round here, someone die?”

Dad was sat at the table with a large scotch with some ice tinkling in it — mum had a sherry.

“Right come and sit at the table Nigel, we need to do this properly. I was already sat next to mum, she was holding my hand.

Nigel rose and sighed as if it was the most onerous duty, spied my hand in mum’s and our general hang-dog expression and blanched. “What’s wrong, is someone sick?” looking at me quizzically.

Dad had written some notes on a pad.

“I’m not going to say much at this point, just three things.

One, Jerry is suffering from a problem that may stop him from growing into a man

Two, he may or may not remain as a male - outwardly.

Three, whatever happens, he,.. or she (his expression as he said she was so painful that I was ready to throw up in anxiety) has our love and our support to do whatever he or she thinks best for his or her future happiness.”

Nigel looked blank for a minute or two, his expression went from sickly green to disgust to pain to incredulity all in a space of less than 20 seconds.

“You mean he’s a freak?” The curl in his lip fired it as a snear.

“NIGEL!!! — that is uncalled for and absolutely intolerable, what a terrible thing to say about your bro- sibling.”

Nigel eyed me, looking blotchy red and white from the rebuke, his anger and unbelieving mind.

My lip was trembling and I was about to have another attack of the shudders, I could see stars in front of my eyes and things were suddenly really far away.

I fell off my chair and was caught before I hit the ground , dad was right there for me.

I recovered before I went all the way into blackness.

By the time I was able to see again, Nigel had gone.

I heard the door slam as he left the building.. “I hope he doesn’t tell anyone,” I looked at mum for support. “No, he’ll keep it to himself for now, it’d be too embarrassing for him to let anyone into this family secret.”

“John, could you look outside and see if you can see him?” Mum spoke sadly across the room to my father as he swigged his scotch, the ice long melted.

“Ok,”

I started up the stairs to the sanctuary of my room as dad closed the door. “He’s only in the garden,” he said quietly. Mum just nodded.

Nigel came back in and quietly went to bed about 10pm, he had got cold outside. I slept hardly a wink — why would I?

I felt very low.

The dregs of morning filtered into the room, another rainy day in paradise..

I wandered into the bathroom for my morning ablutions — Nigel was in the shower as per usual. “Hey — get out - I’m not having you in here with me if you’re a gu-url!”

I turned and went back to my room and waited til he was out. I felt like a zombie.

School that day felt like I was a spy, I spotted my brother a couple of times but he ignored me — worse, he seemed to shun me — like I wasn’t his sibling — I couldn’t find the term other than that to describe me — I didn’t know who I was.

It was becoming too much

It was several days later that I got home and mum summoned me to the kitchen — I felt no better, but I seemed to have reached a point where it no longer mattered.

“The doctor phoned today.” She tried to hook my curiosity.

“He’s organised for you to meet with a Gender Specialist in town.” I looked at her with that pained expression that was supposed to say “and how does this affect me?” but I knew how it affected me… I was after all more girl than boy, right?

“When?”

“In half an hour.”

I nearly staggered backwards with the force of the words. “Well we thought it best if you didn’t worry about it, the doctor can get a better impression of how well you’re bearing up.”

‘My tumbrel awaits’ I thought — jeez I hate that thought… “I’d best get changed then, eh?”

“Just something comfortable,” Mum offered.

We rolled up to the clinic and I sat not really feeling like having an interview with a person who would most likely control my destiny.

“Come on slow coach, get a wriggle on, we haven’t all day,” chivvied my slave master opening her door and bouncing with simulated jocularity onto the pavement.

“Alright, alright, I’m coming.” I alighted from the tumbrel metaphorically flinging my cloak over my shoulder. “Madame Guillotine awaits.” In reality I felt no such bravado. I wish I could lose this feeling of doom.

“Come in, sit down, make yourself comfy. I’m Julie and I’ll be looking after you” Good start I reckoned.

“Right, how can I be of help to you today?”

My mum handed over my file that the doc had given her. “Jerry is worried about his future and we need to make some decisions about what is happening.” Mum took the lead.

“The doctor says here that you have come to a point that you have a choice to make, but that choice may not be what you want… some choice huh?” Julie smiled at me and touched my hand.

“Mrs Holland?” she started.

“Beth”

“Beth, I need to sit with Jerry alone for a few minutes; is that Ok?”

“Sure, I’ll just be outside eh?” she rose and moved toward the door.

“I’ll be about 20 mins.” The doc said with a friendly smile.

“Right Jerry,” looking at me, she smiled and took in the whole of me, piece by piece.

“Would you like to let your hair down?”

I complied. I think she was formulating a direction and what chances were going to be like, I felt like a prize bull (heifer?).

“First things first, I’m not here to make any recommendations or decisions for you, any decision must come from you, any changes you make to your self or your life are your decision and yours alone. I’m not here to tell you who you are or what you should do. I’m here to guide you to where you think you best feel able to move on and be happy.

Does this make sense to you?”

I looked at her. Suddenly I felt that I had someone here that I could trust, someone who might understand who I was and what my options were. I smiled.

“That sounds great, can you tell me what my options are?”

“Well why don’t you tell me a bit about yourself first, then perhaps you’ll tell me what you’d like to do.”

This was sounding better and better.

I started to ramble and she jotted down the odd note, suddenly she stopped me.

“Right, so what you’re saying is that you feel caught between two stools as it were, frustrated because you don’t know where you fit in?”

She’d nailed it in one. I beamed at her, “exactly, I just want to get on with my life and be happy.”

“So tell me what your life is like, what sorts of things do you like to do?”

I set off again telling her about the books I read and the places I went cycling when the weather was reasonable.

“Ok, so what you’re telling me is that you like to do individual things you don’t group up with friends?”

After 20 mins she stopped me and invited mum back in.

“Well Beth, Jerry and I have been discussing where he feels he is and where he feels he’d like to be and we’ve come to a place where I’d like you to tell me what you feel about things as they are.”

“Well, it’s all come as a bit of a shock, all we really want is to be happy. Jerry is a smashing young man and we’re very proud of him. He’s intelligent and charming and has no bad habits. He seems well balanced and happy — it’s all we can ask really”

“Have you noticed any changes recently?” The doc fished gently

“Well Jerry seems to be shaken to the core with this new problem, he doesn’t know what he wants, and it’s a choice that is very difficult for him — he’s never been in a situation where a decision could change his whole life.

Up to then, he was just a normal kid on the block, just with better manners I guess.”

The therapist paused, looking for some eye contact with my mother. “Beth, it seems your little girl does know what she wants, she just told me while you were outside.

I asked her what she would like to do with her life. She told me,” looking down at her notes to get it right, “I feel that I always was a girl, something at the back of my mind made me do things differently to guys, it seemed I had to learn very hard to be male, but my female friends down the road seem really easy to get on with — while the guys at school are like, non starters. I just didn’t know it until it was forced on me by this hormone thing, I don’t want to upset mum and dad and my brother thinks I’m a freak, but it’s who I am and who makes me happy.”

My mothers mouth was wide open, and she looked at me, “oh darling,” she recovered, “if that’s what you want my sweet, that’s what will happen.”

Tears glistened in my eyes, I had trusted the therapist and she’d come up trumps, I’d told her my innermost secret and she’d let it out with the timing and grace of Lawrence Olivier.

“What about Nigel? he’ll kill me.”

“Well we’ll sort that out later darling — first up we need to get you on the right track and feeling good about yourself.”

The therapist stood up and shook mum’s hand and then mine — “thanks for coming in and I think we made some wonderful progress today. Ordinarily I would not take today as any more than an indication of preference, but the way Jerry spoke and the situation with the androgen insensity, I think it is almost certain that we’ve reached a decision we can count on.”

I don’t want you to rush off and do too much yet, just have some fun with the idea and we’ll get together again in a fortnight , how does that sound?”

We both nodded agreement, and turned to leave. “Before you leave, just see June my secretary first to book you in in a fortnight. That’ll be (looking at her calendar) June 1st” She grinned, “I’ve been dying to use that line for ages.”

Mum hugged me as we sat in the car, “and you never told me and I never guessed,” she smiled at me then sat back and turned on the engine. I was stunned… I had prattled on in the clinic and my world had changed in an hour. I was to be a girl….. for the rest of my life… forever….Miss Holland, spinster of this parish….

I felt like the rain had gone from my life, all those secret fears and hopes were solid, and sat in the palm of my hand.

I said not one word all the way home — I’m glad I wasn’t driving, I would have killed someone. I was spaced beyond that place they called comatose.

Once we got home, I needed to sit and take stock of what I had done, and how my past had caught up to my future.

I remembered the first time I felt as if I should have been a girl — I was about five, I had been at my cousin’s house and she had been playing with some old makeup of her mother’s — she’d teased me about wanting to try it out and when I thought about it, I realised I DID want to look like my mummy. I thought I was just being silly, but then I thought a bit more about it and realised I didn’t want to look like mummy, I wanted to BE like mummy, I WAS like mummy.

It took me weeks to shake that feeling — long after I had returned from my cousin’s place.

As I thought about my life I realised that it had always been bubbling just beneath the surface, trying not to look like a girl, trying not to move like a girl — that unfamiliar feeling of being male — and growing up (thankfully I hadn’t grown too far) not feeling like a guy.

I had watched with interest the girls at the other high school as they budded and blossomed but I’d never really got on with them as a guy — even though a couple my age were living in the street. Carol and Wendy — I’d been to their birthday parties in years past (our ‘rents were friends) and whilst I was friends with the girls, I wasn’t ‘dating material’. I didn’t relate to them as a male.

Mum called me down for tea.

“Come on precious, eat some of that brown bread, it’ll make your hair curl,” I was still miles away

“Shouldn’t I be on a diet now? eat salad and stuff…?”

Nigel “humphed” through his sandwich of chips and tomato sauce. I grimaced watching him shred the loaf and a load of chips with only some Chicken Maryland and peas to coax any nutrients into him.

“Yes you’re right honey, I should be buying more nutritious stuff — you don’t want spots, what’ll the boys think?”

A silence descended on the table, a palpable quiet as everyone suddenly realised what mum had said ‘boys’ I had never thought about it — I would be a girl, so I would be going out with boys, kissing them perhaps and holding their hands.

Nigel nearly regurgitated his tea and spluttered, “you go anywhere near my mates and I’ll kill you! God this is so embarrassing”

I sat with my head bowed, tears streamed down my face, I didn’t know if I was ready to think about boys…. Not in this lifetime anyway….

Dad had been quiet and sat just taking in what was going on round him.

He spoke up, “look Nigel, it’s not what any of us wanted for Jerry, least of all Jerry, but we need to be sensible about this, no one did anything to cause it, it just is. Jerry will not be able to grow up male if what we know at the moment is true and we will have to accept it. Now if you can’t accept it then just keep quiet and ignore what’s going on like you have for the past 4 years. You’ve had no input into this family since you got into long trousers, so if you don’t like it, you can continue in the same vein”.

“Always the same — Jerry this, Jerry that… I just got left to my own devices..no one cared about me.” Mum looked stricken as Nigel came out with a tirade that smacked so sincerely of infant tantrum.

Dad’s voice rose with his colour, “that is patently untrue, and you know it, now apologise to your mother before I ground you, big as you are.”

“Yeah yeah sorry, I just feel a bit left out that’s all — I’ve not had much time to take this in.”

Mum looked over at me, “are you coping ok pet?” I nodded through my tears as I continued to eat — I had to do something, I couldn’t just sit here watching the family fall apart because I had turned into a circus act.

“And don’t think this is any of your fault,” mum said as if she could read minds. “You just take care of staying happy and we’ll worry about the logistics. Nigel dear, I promise you this; this will not be easy for any of us but we’ll get through it because we are a family and you know we all love you.. including Jerry.”

Nigel looked a bit sullen then perked up a bit, “hey if Jemima here gets some friends, she’ll be bringing them home won’t she? This might not be so bad after all.” All of a sudden he was full of female personal pronouns.

I watched telly for a bit, then decided I’d had enough of today, and said my goodnights, mum and dad both gave me a hug — which was something of a change, at least it hadn’t happened for about 6 years.

“By the way, while you’re thinking about sleeping, how about mulling over some nice names for us to call you, we’re not going to get away with calling you Jerry for much longer if the writing on the wall is being read right”.

I said immediately, “Jenny, I’ve always thought of myself as Jenny”. Dad’s eyes were as round as the buttons on the leather chair he was sitting in.

“Ok, goodnight Jenny, sleep well”. Dad’s eyes were glistening in the TV light.

I thought I’d be up for ages but the next thing I knew mum was shaking me — “go get your shower before Nigel gets in there.” She told me she’d looked in the night before and found me out like a light. I spent a couple of minutes relating the thoughts that had been going round my head about my relationships with Wendy and Carol up the street, then headed for the shower.

There wasn’t much happening at school just the regular routine. I allowed myself to slip back into it and relished the quiet before the inevitable storm. Nigel steered clear and the bullyboys didn’t take any notice of me — the weather was warming up and the games field was drying out, so the cricket pads were on and lots of sports were in session at break time.

About a week later, I was summoned to the nurse.

“Hi Jerry, thank you for dropping by, I have a letter for your mum and the doctor has told me all about the prognosis.”

I backed out the door with my hands over my ears — I didn’t want to hear anything while I was still at school. The nurse chased me out and said, “at least take the letter home with you.”

I grabbed it and ran. I presumed the news would now go into my file and the secretary would have some gossip to spread. It was unfair of me, it never happened, she kept it close to her chest. For that I am truly grateful.

I wasn’t over keen on riding home that evening, the letter was burning a hole in my jacket and I hadn’t even looked at it. If I had I would have noticed that it was addressed to me!

It was a copy of the one that my mother was reading at the kitchen table as I got home.

We read them in silence, both of us resigned now to the changes that were about to ring on the Hollands.

“So you have a little surgery to undergo petal, more time off school. And some pills you’re going have to take for the foreseeable future.” I wasn’t happy but it was an answer.

“Don’t forget you have to go see the therapist tomorrow,” my heart lurched again, it was all happening too fast. “It’s Ok, I’ll come with you.”

“I should hope you will,” I looked at her like she might abandon me any minute.

“It says here that the changes will take up to 2 years just like a normal late puberty.” I didn’t add the other parameter; Female… my FEMALE PUBERTY. God I was going to throw up — I really wasn’t prepared for this.

“So how are you today Jerry?”

“Oh fine, just so you know though; the name will be Jenny — Jennifer Kirsty Holland.”

Julie smiled and immediately scrubbed out my name on the file in front of her and pencilled in my new name. “Jenny it is then, that’s wonderful that you’ve come to terms with your change already.”

“How did you know I wouldn’t be curable with testosterone?” I asked knowledgeably.

“I didn’t, but it’s a pretty rare syndrome and it’s usually pretty cut and dried if you have it, I just didn’t want to give you a zero chance in case you were disappointed and had to stay Jerry.” She smiled and so did I, she had me bang to rights.

“I’m not going to go on much this session, I just need to know if you have any misgivings, or areas where you need some information?”

“Loads, but I’m going to lay low for a few days until I get used to the idea, I only found out for sure yesterday.”

Julie invited mum in and continued. “The endocrinologist has sent me these initial prescriptions. We normally wouldn’t be giving you anything until you are 16 minimum but the result of your tests have proved this to be PAIS which is not like an ordinary transsexual inasmuch as you have no glands producing any regulatory hormones that can be processed, so we’ll have to supply them for your system for the rest of your life.” She looked at me for a reaction, I paled a bit but I was generally ok with it.

“The scrip will bring your female hormones up to normal levels for a girl entering puberty — you won’t see or feel much difference for a few weeks probably but you will get emotional swings so stay where you can be comforted or not get into a panic for a while until you can recognise the swings because they are pretty wild sometimes.

Your body is crying out for these hormones and you’re going to get quite a kick out of them. Now its five weeks til the end of term and summer hols,” she continued quickly. So we’ll be able to get you pretty much on the road to normality by New Autumn Term…” She looked me straight in the eye again. “You know what that means?”

I gulped down my dry tongue and whispered, “Girl’s High School?” she nodded and handed me the scrip. “These are yours, mum will make sure you take them, but it’s your prescription, make sure you do as the scrip tells you. Oh by the way go to the pharmacy over in the next village ‘til you get your name changed. It might be wiser to keep the nosey parkers out of it at least for a while”.

Mum volounteered that she’d get her sister to pick them up and bring them over on a monthly basis as they had a standing meeting at the volley ball club where they could pass them over. Clandestine drug handling — I wonder if the other club members will ask them for some…

It was over, I was set up — now the real ‘fit hits the shan’. The clinic had supplied the initial prescription so I sat cradling the pills all the way home reading all about what to do if I get vaginal bleeding or excessive stomach cramps from them…I wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry. I laughed. Mum and I stopped on the way home and had a coffee at the local mall and she bought my favourite cake for tea. I took my first pills.

Saturday was as rainy as hell, and it was cold considering we were into June. I sat with mum and we discussed what was next.

Dad was trying to get the lawnmower going and every so often we heard a clatter and loads of smoke issued from the shed…

“John, you’ll suffocate yourself, leave that contraption alone and come inside, I want to discuss something-ing.” I never knew you could get an echo from a brick wall — but mum managed it every time she called John from that tin shed.

He ran across the rain soaked lawn as he wiped his hands on an oily rag (odd how rags are oily even when they’re clean huh?). “Wazzup?” he queried as he shook the rain off his glasses.

“Come in and sit down, we’re working out how we’re going to sort Jenny’s clothes.”

I still shivered every time she used my new name.

Dad perched on the end of the table and said, “colours in one and whites in the other wash, same as always” mum clobbered him with the tea towel , “you know what I mean”.

“You’re asking me for a blank cheque?” he clutched his breast like he was having a heart attack rolling, his eyes back into his head, then put his hand over his wallet pocket. “Will we still have brown bread and butta for us tea?” I was beginning to think things were returning to normal. The air was light with joviality and we were happy again.

“Well how much do we need to spend initially? Can she get away with a few tops and some jeans for a while until we know what sort of growth to expect?”

Suddenly I was in tears, everything was too much. I sobbed like a bereaved widow at a funeral.

Dad’s face looked puzzled, mum’s wasn’t, “lo and behold your daughter — her first mood swing caused by being happy, expect this regularly on soap operas, cute bunny adverts and chick flicks. Oh and don’t expect to be watching sports on TV if Jenny is home, she’ll be wanting to watch the cookery progs! !HAHAHA” she started giggling and I suddenly stopped crying like a tap was turned off.

Dad smiled suddenly, “hey! it may be ok, I think this may be covered in my health policy”.

We headed for the mall in the next town and I had made myself look as presentable as possible, hair down and white T-shirt smartest jeans, clean trainers. I wasn’t ready to wear makeup.

We settled for some nice trainers and some flat shoes, a pair of 1  ½ inch heeled court shoes and two pairs of sandals brown and white. My nicer socks could be salvaged my undies were binned. New undies. Now, I was used to briefs and not ‘y’ fronts but since I had to undress in school, I had to wear kinda macho ones. I hated them since they always looked empty — well I wasn’t well rigged was I? I got three tops and two pairs of girls low rise jeans which were a bit loose round the hips but mum assured me they would fit in no time.

We wandered through to the bra section, I suddenly ground to a halt, “do I have to?”

“Well actually yes, you do and you’ll thank me in a couple of weeks, she grabbed a tape measure of the end of the rack and measured me round the chest. Size 12. “Good easy to find 12. We’ll start you off with an AA and that’ll be it. Just the one for now. You don’t need to wear it more than a few hours at a time when you get home from school. You’ll soon tell me when you want to wear it, believe me.”

I looked at her puzzled then realised I was scratching my chest above my left nipple.

I coloured up and mum looked me in the eye, “starting already, isn’t it?”

I nodded the affirmative. I’d been itchy all morning- it had only been five days since I started the pills.

On the way out mum noticed a nice little full circle denim mini and held it up to me, just as the girl from down the street, Wendy walked past with her mum…. “Oh my God mum, she’s seen me”

Mum turned and looked at Wendy and her mum, smiled and said “hi, fancy meeting you here, are you finished shopping or ready for a break? I’m dying to sit down”.

Before we could whistle ‘Dixie’ we were all seated round four coffees. Along with all my shopping — Wendy was eyeing me like I was about to accost her and her mum was looking at me like I had some infection.

“Guess what, we’ve just discovered Jerry was misidentified at birth — she’s just starting her puberty and it’s all of a rush ….”

Mum sat back to let the news settle in, we watched the two goldfish for a minute or two.

“What exactly do you mean?” Wendy’s mum raised one eyebrow suspiciously.

“Denise, how long have we known each other? Nearly all the lives of these two isn’t it? You know Jerry was always a bit of a softy and more like Wendy in temperament and we even mentioned it in conversation a few times”.

Denise nodded and looked like she was a bit embarrassed — nothing unusual there — it seems I’m a gorilla in the kitchen at the moment, no one wants to discuss me or my future once they know things aren’t right.

Mum continued, “Well we have a diagnosis from the doctors that show that Jerry was born with a condition that covered her real gender — physically showing her as a male externally but not her system which we never guessed until her puberty didn’t start.”

“You mean Jerry is really a girl?” Wendy’s eyes lit up like she’d found a ten pound note in her pocket.

“Yes Wendy, she is and always has been,” mum patted the back of Wendy’s hand as I looked carefully from one coffee drinker to the next. Denise looked puzzled and mum looked pleased that there hadn’t been a scene — disaster averted by quick thinking — safe, I hope and pray. Wendy looked ecstatic like she’d been given a life sized Barbie for her birthday — I found out later that was precisely what she’d been thinking…

It meant that Denise would be contacting Carol’s mum as well and I wouldn’t be immediately blacklisted as a deviant who liked to wear girls’ clothes.

My heart resumed normal rhythm and I felt the sweat drying from between my shoulder blades.

We finished our coffee and headed for the car. Our parcels slowing us only a little — hey I was quite looking forward to trying some of this stuff. I thought of all the times I’d wondered about wearing girls’ clothes and to this day I never had.

We made a side track to the chemists and mum bought some bits and pieces for my hair and some decent shampoo and conditioner… even though I looked after my hair better than most chicks already.

When we got home dad was just finishing screwing a lock to the bathroom door. I coloured up a little — looks like my days of walking in on Nige and vicky verka were over. Then I thought of the underwear in my bags and coloured up even more.

I threw the bags on the bed and mum jettisoned her cargo by the closet.

“Um, I think now is a good time to throw out anything that resembles worn or damaged clothing, anything that is too small and ALL your Led Zeppelin Tshirts..”

“I’ve only got one”, I answered, pouting slightly.

“My God it must be rank by now, it’s never off your back.”

“I hand wash it nearly every day mum, leave it out, I hate to smell like I do.”

“Er, haven’t you noticed chicky?”

“No, what?”

“Take your T shirt off and smell it”

I did as she bid and realised five days after I started HRT, I no longer smelt like Jerry, I already had a softer more gentle smell. I sat on the bed as the tears welled and looked up at mum, “a-already?”

“Already Jenny, you’re already on your way”

I sat there for an age, staring into space.I could feel the distance between my mind and my body, I struggled to bring them together. Mum gave me a little hug and said she was going to make some tea, “pop on your new jeans and a top and come down. Remember I bought some bee sting as a treat”.

I smiled and nodded as I zoned back in.

Ten minutes later I hit the bottom of the stairs as Nigel opened the front door. “Jeeezus, what do you look like?” he shook his head derisively

“NIGEL! In here this minute!” Mum was not amused.

He walked in ahead of me with a sneer that would make a nazi shudder. “My faggot of a brother looks like that and I get the ear pounding?”

“SIT, and don’t say another word.”

I had backed off to the wall and was shuddering. I was trying to gnaw off my knuckles in total anxiety. My family were fighting and it was all my fault.

“Jenny come over here petal and sit at the table, I want Nigel to see who you really are.”

I looked at her puzzled, and walked as if I was heading for a cliff edge. I sat at the table.

“Right sunshine,” mum looked at Nigel and continued, “now tell me what you see as so odd about the girl sat in front of you?”

“Well it’s my brother for a start, and “she’s” as flat chested as”… he stopped, “my God he isn’t flat chested, I can see her nipp-“ he stopped again. “his face, hell what have you done to him?”

“When was the last time you looked at your brother?” Mum questioned quietly but insistently.

“I never looked at him, not really,” his voice had changed to a strange quiet like he’d never seen who I was. “I just thought he was a nerdy little oxygen thief who needed a big brother to keep him from getting beaten up cos he was so wimpy.”

I’m sitting looking at him by now with my eyes as wide as a Guernsey cow, the tracks of my tears showing on my skin as they ran past the corner of my mouth.

“Give your sister a hug Nigel, I want to see you accept your sister properly.”

I looked over at mum with a stunned mullet impression. Sister….

Nigel got up trying to look pained but I could sense a sort of fear in his eyes as he approached me. I stood to let him wrap his arms round me, which surprisingly he did.

He spoke softly to me, “I’m sorry Jenny, I had no idea,” suddenly he stepped back releasing me, then stepped forward again smelling my neck, “are you wearing perfume? No you’re not are you? What’s that smell?” His eyes went as round as mine and I saw mum wink as she sat smiling and stirring her tea slowly.

“That Nigel, is your sister’s own personal smell, get used to it, it’s going to be in the bathroom and all round this house,”

Nigel looked in wonder at me, “You ARE a girl, Christ you even smell like one, you’re actually quite nice looking too. Why didn’t I notice that before?” he smiled then softly, “This might not be so bad after all. I can get used to this.” Looking at his watch. “Can I go get changed mum, I’m meeting Graham and Peter to hang out and I’m gonna be late if I don’t shift?”

Mum nodded and smiled at him, “don’t be late home and don’t slam the doo-” BANG!

Too late…

I spent the rest of the weekend clearing out my room, stopping now and then to shed a few tears. Did I want to destroy my past? No I didn’t. I was still me and I had a right to my memories as Jerry. But I did throw out my footy boots — and strip — I smiled at that — it was two years old and looked brand new. I also threw out my models which seemed a bit childish to have now — I wondered why I bothered.

There were a few model cars I kept, a Jag mark 10 and a Porsche Carrera. I still loved luxury and power — things I could use even as a girl!

Monday back at school was weird. Nigel went with me to my first class and told me as I went in that he would see me at break. I felt like I suddenly had a protector. I told him not to bother, but he looked concerned and whispered to me, “what if someone smells you?”

I looked at him incredulously, “when was the last time anyone went round smelling other boys?” He looked like he’d turned into beetroot.

I saw him at break but he was over the other side of the quad — trying to look nonchalant but keeping his eye on me. I felt very loved at that moment. Even when my nemesis, Stanley, thought he’d come over and give me some lip I didn’t turn a hair.

I just looked from him to my brother and he followed my eyes and saw the gaggle of prefects with my brother near enough to grab him before he even got a chance to draw breath.

When I headed home that night Nigel saw me onto the bus before he went into town with his mates. Sometimes it’s nice having a big brother.

When I got home I headed for the shower and to inspect my growth — which seemed to change on a daily basis. I was sore and it was just coming up to a week since I started my pills. But there didn’t seem to be much growth just a sort of lump at the back of my nipples and an itch like a rash above my left breast.

My face did seem softer but I think that was because I no longer seemed angry all the time. My skin felt odd, but I doubt there was any changes in that.

The rest of the week was strange, I felt like I was in limbo, waiting for something to happen that might signal my new status. Mum and dad kept it quiet and I allowed myself to relax.

That Friday afternoon as I got off the bus, Wendy and Carol were there waiting for someone. I glanced in their direction and they waved at someone near me… no - it was at ME!

They came over and said hello as the bus pulled away, the guys on the bus ogled my friends — I was sure to catch some flak later.

As the other passengers dispersed, I realised they intended to walk with me — they did, one each side.

“I’m so sorry,” Wendy started, “I told Carol about your changes, why are you still dressed like that?” she scrunched up her nose in distaste.

“I expected you’d tell Carol, I don’t mind, it’s who I am now, which answers your other question.” I indicated my uniform. “I have four weeks to go until we break for hols, there’s no way I can stop the ball rolling now — we have exams in a week and I need to get good grades if I’m to get into High School in a good stream when I change over after summer.”

Both girls squealed like a car on a tight corner, “You’re really coming to High School?”

“Why shouldn’t I? I’m going to be more girl than boy after Hols, what’s the fuss?”

As I said that I suddenly burst into tears. I wasn’t sure if it was joy or anxiety, or even just release I just stood there as the two girls hugged me gently to them, “It’s Ok Jenny, we understand.” I think they did too.

When my fit had subsided, we continued on our way and when we reached my house I stopped, “You want to come in and see my etchings? Or just share some coke and a few bikkies?”

“You couldn’t stop us if you wanted to.” We went in.

Mum was home and to my surprise dad was too. In the hall was a kidney shaped dresser done in enamel — I realised it was for my room — things were on the move.

Dad had his painting gear on… I suddenly looked at him and said “Not PINK?”

“No, it wouldn’t match the carpet and I’m not buying you new carpet, I’m doing it pastel green — which is a lot better than the gross purple colour at the moment.”

The girls looked a bit sick when Dad mentioned purple and we headed for the kitchen.

We chatted for a while, bonding I suppose you’d call it and they left asking if I was going to the mall over the weekend — I declined — I had exams next week and I really did want to get into High School with good grades.

I spent the weekend in the dining room with books everywhere trying to concentrate on making my life as easy as possible — mum told me I was doing the best thing possible — not dwelling on my situation too much, just making the best of it and looking forward.

I had to stop on Sunday afternoon to allow my fact swollen brain to recover. I found my concentration skills were a lot better than they had been previously — I wonder if the HRT helped there?.

Exams …. Hell on Earth …. Well not really, but I needed to study for them so I wasn’t as cluey as I could be — my IQ was reasonable but study is what counted in my life. Nigel had it worse — he had the real things to do — his university entrance was dependant on him making the best grades possible — he wanted to be an architect — good luck to him — I think he would be good at that.

It was quite fortunate that I didn’t have any exams on Tuesday — as I had to go back to see my shrink, June the 1st had arrived.

“Hello Jenny, nice to see you again.

“Now where were we last time? Ah yes, you’d made the decision and you felt in control and happy to be who you thought you were?

How are the hormones affecting you?” she looked at me scratching my chest above my left nipple — why is it only there that itches?

“I cry a lot, I itch a lot and I seem to be going to the loo a lot.”

“So you’re feeling emotional? What does that mean to you?”

“I suppose it means the HRT is working and that things are happening the way they should”

“How does that make you feel?” She looked intensely interested so I put her out of her misery.

“Actually, I feel great, my folks are being really good — I got a load of new clothes and two new girlfriends and my brother no longer treats me like a leper, just more like a potential dating agency”

“Two new Girlfriends?” She frowned slightly.

“Oh I’ve known them for years, even used to play with them when I was younger. We’ve just re-met now that my future lies more in line with theirs”.

“So they know you’re transitioning?” smiling now.

“Yes I met one of them, Wendy, in the mall when I was shopping for girls clothes with mum. So the cat was out of the bag so to speak- I didn’t mind, I’m comfortable with what’s happening.”

Julie invited Mum in, “Hello again Beth, quite a change going on eh?”

Mum nodded and was about to speak, Julie interrupted. “I’d like to say that Jenny has got to be the most level headed girl we have had in this situation, she’s really doing so well, it’s a real credit to you.”

Mum smiled and looked at me with that gooey sort of doting mum thing that would have made me sick about a month ago but I felt warm in the glow of it now.

“She’s been a little angel, I am so proud of her” I felt dizzy, mum seldom got gooey, but she was lost for all money now.

More to the point was all the pronouns flying round were making me dizzier still. She this, her that, I thought the gooey was bad enough.

We suddenly got the impression Julie was about to rain on my parade.

“There’s something I’d like to discuss that puts us a step closer to the mark. It’s called a bilateral orchidectomy.” Julie looked at the two vacant faces in front of her.

“Oh, I see that’s something that hasn’t been discussed,”

I turned pinkish I guess because I could feel the heat radiating from my face, “um -actually I do know what it is, but I thought I wouldn’t need it and the realisation was a bit of a shock, hence the suspension of sentient thought and movement”….

Julie smiled at me, “I think I can understand what’s going through your mind; bricks and camels and not getting your thumbs caught?”

I nodded and gulped — I felt the heat draining from my face.

“Well there’s two reasons that we need to do this, one is the fact that sitting where they are is dangerous to your health, it is quite easy for them to become cancerous if they can’t get the cooling needed from being outside your body. The other reason is that they interfere somewhat with the new hormones circulating your body and you may end up with hair where you don’t want it — even if you are androgen insensitive.”

She looked at the notepad in front of her, she’d obviously been charting this line of attack; I tried to see what she’d written but without actually going over and grabbing the pad, I couldn’t see the top sheet.

“The operation itself is a day surgery and should be relatively painfree.”

I looked askance knowing full well that getting kicked there was not “painfree”, far from it, and removal of said redundant machinery was likely to be no less painful than a kick.

“I have noted from your x ray that the situation is not going to be awkward and the size of the testes will make it simpler and less traumatic.” I was feeling sick by this time and Julie could tell I’d reached the limit of my imagination.

“Well I’ll let you discuss it with your family if you like, but I think that once your exams are over and before the summer holidays start, would be a good time, sometime after next week — between Tuesday 7th and 10th, which is a Friday of course can be scheduled then a couple of days off for the weekend and you’re ok to attend the end of term stuff at the Grammar school. How does that sound?”

“Rushed,” was my last word. But I knew I was doomed — it was common sense.

“Oh by the way, before we finish, all your medical records have been removed from the school already and your GP has them — stops the gossip.” She affirmed.

Beth, get back to me when you’ve reached a decision and we’ll confirm things, and Jenny,” she looked at me with genuine concern, which reminded me of the adage ‘the condemned man ate a hearty meal’, “It’s your decision and yours alone, we’re trying to recommend what we feel is the best action and we’ve got your best interests at heart to be able to get on and for you to transition over this summer. It is going to be far easier if we can organise it that way — the less other people know, the better it is — education in this area is limited and people think all sorts of things when they get gossip. You do understand don’t you?”

I plonked myself back into the chair, I had already risen preparing to leave. “I know this sounds weird simply because it does to me as well. I’d like to get it over with as soon as possible as well, it’s just such a sudden thing. When I think of all the times I thought about being a girl and how I wished and wished for it, now I’m baulking because you want to make it happen, albeit by losing something that last month I thought would be producing heirs; now they’re a risk factor.” I took a huge gulp and watched as the sparkles in front of my eyes dissipated. “If I come in next Thursday, can you do it then?” There, I’d said it.

Mum looked shocked and I saw Julie shake her head slightly as if to say ‘don’t say anything.’

I looked at Julie, she looked sombre as she took out her diary and phoned the clinic.

“Hello, yes it’s me, about Jenny Holland, how does next Thursday fit?” she listened for a minute and continued, “Right 10.30am, no food or drink after you go to bed on Wednesday night — be in the clinic by 10am.” My fate was sealed.

I had my last exam on Tuesday morning — so I got to fool around that afternoon and the next day. Then Chop…

Everyone would be wagging school anyway and no one would miss me… not that it mattered, I wasn’t going to be there next term… Good riddance, I hated that school anyway….

Tears flooded my eyes as I got angry — I wiped them on my sleeve, furious that I’d let myself go again. Being a girl wasn’t easy with the taps so easy to turn on.

Julie closed her diary, “shall we say the 21st for another chat?”

Mum nodded and rose from the chair, and grabbed me for a hug — I could see the tears in her eyes and the gritted teeth. She was feeling it too. I can’t imagine what dad would say or think when we told him about this one.

“You’re a brave girl Jenny, I want you to know that I wouldn’t normally have recommended such speedy action if you weren’t up to it. I have to say you’re a spunky kid.” She reached out to shake my hand, I reciprocated, then she pulled me to her and gave me a hug for good measure.

I left feeling like I’d been given a reprieve and a painful kick at the same time. Mum looked like she just got the kick.

We didn’t speak until the kettle was on back home. I treated myself to a Mars bar from the fridge. I needed the sugar boost.

“I have to go soon mum, I have my Geography exam this arvo — 1.30 to 3.30.”

Mum sat stirring her tea a bit vacantly — looked at the clock and told me she’d take me and not to rush. It was only midday.

My Geography exam was easy, but I’m not sure I got a good grade, my mind wasn’t on it and when I looked at my scribble pad it was covered with spiky doodles. I handed the exam paper in on the bell and caught the bus. I threw the doodles away. Nigel sat with me.

“How’s it going kiddo?”

“Ok I guess, I had to go to the shrink this morning.”

“What did she say, that you’re too flaky to be a girl?”

“No, just that I had to have my balls removed next Thursday,” I looked at him for a reaction and he went a sort of grey colour and started shallow panting, “You’re kidding right?” I shook my head, “no, I’m serious, 10.30 at the clinic.”

I’ve never seen someone go into shock, but I think Nigel just had, he’d screwed up into a ball and looked like he was about to vomit, his eyes were watering but wide open, I suddenly realised it was a sympathetic reaction to my upcoming operation.

It took him two stops to recover, by which time he was sat there blinking rapidly and staring into space.

“You ok?” I asked.

He looked at me with a sort of wonder, “how can you sit there and tell me you’re going to be castrated and not be screaming?”

“Because to me, that’s actually not relevant, they’re not doing anything except making me ill and could be cancerous if not removed.” I tried to be logical.

Nigel went against two thousand years of family tradition and put his arm round my shoulder. “You’re one brave chick, you know that?” He smiled at me like he really admired me. I think in all honesty, he really did love his new sister and was getting used to it. Suddenly I realised he was looking down my cleavage (haha — yeah I know, two weeks worth) then blushed when he realised what he’d done. He looked away then removed his arm from my shoulder after giving my hair a rub.

As we traipsed up the garden path I caught sight of Wendy on her bike and gave her a wave, she called out that she’d see me later — I gave her another wave in confirmation.

Mum had seen our approach and opened the door before I could get my key out.

Wendy didn’t call round, but she did phone me and I related to her the doings of the week leaving out the procedure I was to undergo next week — she was more interested in how my exams were going and how I was feeling. She was really looking forward to showing me the ropes at the Girls’ High School. She was in the top stream and I was hoping that I would be too. Being 15 and a girl, I was told, was the best thing in the world and the worst at the same time. She took almost an hour to tell me.

In the meantime Dad had come in and I gave him a wave as he passed me in the hall.

When I went back into the sitting room, I realised that mum or Nigel must have broken the news, my father was sitting with his hands over his eyes and I could see his hands were wet. He couldn’t hide his feelings, he felt like Nigel — that the loss of manhood was a terrible thing. But if you never had it, it wasn’t even point one on the Richter scale.

I went over and sat next to him and he wrapped himself round me like a protective coating. He was close to sobbing, which I started to do in sympathy. I felt him draw a huge breath and he stiffened up like a good Englishman.

“Right, I think we’ll all need to go and cheer ourselves up — we’ll go out and get pasta at Giorgio’s” — a new Italian place that had just opened up down the road. I even got to sample a glass of Lambrusco.

We felt less morbid after a glass or two I must admit.

Exams finished and I thought I had acquitted myself ably so I wasn’t phased by the post mortems’ that would be the curriculum for the next week — some of the results were already coming out for the exams we took the week previous but we didn’t get any details — we’d get those on the notice board the week after — and a week before breaking up.

The class looked a lot emptier on the Wednesday — I managed to stay in touch with reality — though it was becoming difficult.

I was seeing the guys in class as a different breed almost, it was now a month since I had started taking hormone treatment and I had the beginnings of breasts and an emotional rollercoaster for a constant companion.

I had managed to stay normal seeming at school and I hadn’t been hit on by anyone for being ‘odd’.

I was conscious of my changing status and my new ‘aroma’; boys smelt rancid if they’d been at all energetic and by the end of the day I would say they smelt evil.

Though I had noticed that some smelt less evil than others. I wondered a little if this was the beginnings of female orientation in my head. I dreaded the day I looked at a guys behind and drooled… oh yuck.

The next day, I would no longer be in any way associated with masculinity except by default — since my name would still legally be Jerry.

I wasn’t sure I was pleased or profoundly sad. I had basically learned how to be a guy all my life and though I wasn’t good at it, I was at least average at being a nobody.

As a female, I had no experience whatsoever and no idea how I would fit in and I had hardly even tried on any girls clothes and certainly not a dress or skirt — though I had worn my little bra a couple of times when my nipples had become seriously sore from my shirt rubbing on them. Mum had laughed when she realised I was wearing it — in a ‘told you so’ fashion. She had warned me and she had been right. What had made me squirm was the fact that I pretty much filled the AA cup bra already. My nipples had two miniature cones behind them which mum called my ‘buds’ and they distended my nipples into hard little pyramids — thank God for school jackets and singlets.

I hadn’t had to do any sport since my awareness of my new status and had thrown out my strip in any case. That was a huge plus as far as I was concerned — mum did warn me that hockey was going to be the next thing I would be playing on a field. But I guessed the strip would be a bit different.

Overall I was excited at being able to change over to being a girl — it was something that felt less strange than trying to be a guy. Being a guy was all competition and being ‘upfront’ and I was never that — Male privilege was supposed to be something that allowed you to be whomever you were — I had never felt or embraced that privilege. I had more or less had it removed by being the underdog in a purely male society. The runt of the litter for my class and year at least.

I felt during the wash-ups from the exams that my stream in High School was assured and that I hadn’t fluffed any exam in a major way.

So when I went home on Wednesday afternoon, it was with the resignation that comes from having done what was possible with the sword of Damocles hanging over my head.

I got treated to a favourite supper of veal parmigiana and noodles and a real apple pie made by mum’s fair hand. The custard was delicious.

The Way Things Happen

---

Thursday; written in the annals of my history like the day of doom. Though in the eventuality it turned out to be something that became a bit of a non entity.

I arrived at the clinic having had nothing at all by mouth and felt like a dry rag — one with dirty teeth too.

The doctor came through and invited mum and me into his surgery and sat me down.

“Now er young lady, you realise the operation I’m about to carry out is to remove your testes?”

“Yes”

“and that is it not reversible?” I nodded.

“You will not be able to fertilise a female and have children”. I nodded, “out loud if you would?”

“Yes I understand that you’re going to remove the bits that make sperm and I won’t be able to make babies”.

“Right; could you and your Guardian sign here and here” — indicating two dotted lines on the form for consent.

We signed, I felt really light headed, but sort of calm as well. I wondered if the same feeling was felt by someone going to the gallows.

He called his nurse through and asked that I be prepped in the mini operating theatre next door.

Nurse had me remove my clothes and don another of those awful gowns — in pink this time… sit up on the gurney — which had the stirrups of torture on them she gave me a little injection and put a needle into my hand and taped it there then put a saline drip on it.

I felt all drowsy and the doc came in — and mum was ushered out.

“Right in about thirty seconds you’ll be waking up and you’ll feel a bit groggy — then you’ll be able to have a nice glass of water OK?”

I nodded and then I was awake again with a feeling like I’d been kicked by a pony. Right in the goolies… then I realised that I could never be kicked there — it was as apparent as anything that I no longer had any. There was a vacant throb — like a neurological vacuum. I had nerves that told me there was nothing to be nervy about.

I felt like I was about to throw up when I felt a cool hand on my brow and mum looking at me with that tender mother look. I felt a whole lot better.

I got to lie there for about 30 mins then I got my water. The doctor came in and told me “Now be careful what you do for a week or two, no lifting, and come and see me next Friday for a quick check and remove any stiches that feel nasty — they should dissolve on their own but they sometimes get caught and itch like crazy.”

As I got dressed mum handed me the skirt that she’d bought on our first exped for clothes…. “I think you’ll find this is more comfy than jeans right now” she had a bit of a smirk on her face but I thought it was a kind one so I didn’t take offence — I could hardly walk (not without a waddle anyway, I had a maxi pad in my knickers) — what offence could I possibly take.

I wasn’t in any real pain, but I think the weekend was wasted on me — I was absolutely in agony till Sunday afternoon and my groin looked like I’d been given a pair of bullocks testes rather than lost two tiny mouses’ ones.

I went to school on Monday — but only to prove I could. Someone in class asked if I’d been kicked in the nuts over the weekend — as I was walking like John Wayne. I said “something like that” and left it at that.

But the movement became easier as the day went on and I was aware of a freedom I had never experienced before.

By the weekend I had my exam results , which were mostly Bs and As, which assured me of a place in the best stream at the Girls’ school. I told Wendy and she was rapt she was in the top stream too so I would be in her class.

I started the last week of Boys’ Grammar with a sort of restrained glee that I would never have to enter those horrid halls once more. There was nothing there — not a friend nor a memory that made me regret what had happened.

I also lost my stitches and had my check up which took up all of half of the lunch hour. The longest sentence I think I heard was “Ah yes, it seems to be healing nicely”.

Back at school later, one of the teachers said to me, “I believe you’re not going to be with us next term?” He looked expectantly for an explanation.

“No sir”. I replied without filling him in on where I was going. Since my brother had also graduated it was not really easy to glean information that wasn’t forthcoming.

“Well all the best, Holland, keep up the good work–you’ll make a good husband for someone one day.”

“Yes sir, thanks.” I should co-co, I thought—

There was the usual boisterousness and lack of concentration in the class as the sun beckoned outside and we stifled because the boilers were still on inside and the windows had ceased to function as a ventilation source years ago.

As we broke up we all shook hands “see you next term”… etc… I acquiesced and allowed that I would…. I figured they would be trying to ‘pull’ me by next term if things went the same as they had over the previous 8 weeks and they actually got to see me at all.

When I got home I changed into a pair of Jeans and a scoop neck top and put on my little bra as well — a sort of ritualistic finish to my life as Jerry. I let my hair down literally, and threw my head back and shook out the feeling or restraint as I did so — like a horse given it’s head.

I took my uniform and the rest of my school clothes out to the bin and unceremoniously dumped them. They were too worn for the recycling shop — and I would never ever again wear boy’s clothes.

That night I had some of the worst dreams imaginable — I was beaten to a pulp by my class mate as he discovered my secret. My brother plotted against me and told all my high school friends that I was a transvestite. My father beat me for not being a good son. My mother shunned me because I couldn’t bear children.

I awoke screaming in agony as I was raped by my old friends all gathered round to mock me.

As I came to, with my eyes unfocussed, my father had leapt into the room and gathered me up in his arms and held me as I wailed in pain. I sobbed my heart out for it seemed half the night — grieving for my lost manhood and frightened for my future.

Mum made me a mug of cocoa and she cuddled me as I drank it down — hiccoughing and sobbing alternately.

“Julie said this would likely happen, and to watch out for it, it’ a sort of release mechanism, so don’t worry about it — post op blues.”

She settled me down and peace returned for the rest of the night — I awoke surprisingly refreshed though heavy eyed.

My life had flashed before my eyes — all two months of it. I had little notion that I had a long way to go — it was all being taken as a day to day thing. I got more and more distant from Jerry’s life seemingly all too easily.

“I’m going into town later and I’m going to see someone about the legalities of who you are.”

“What do you mean mum?”

“Well we’ll need to do some official things like changing your name, but since there’s only a few things that you have that require legal names, it’s not going to be too onerous, you’ll need to change your name on your savings bank account for a start, your national insurance number may change and your name on it will certainly have to be changed.

I may also be able to get you a new birth certificate eventually, but not I think until we have cleared up the anatomical anomalies — I’ll enquire anyway and get the forms.

You want to come along?”

“I guess I’d better, since it’s likely that the “powers that be” will scoff if you tell them my story. It’s likely to be more easily digested if I’m tagging along like a good little girl….Did I just say that?”

Mum grinned and gripped me on the shoulder, “seems you are coming round to the idea quite well darling”.

The outcome of the day was that most of my identity was set to fade and Jenny was prominently displayed on the page of my life.

The doctor advised that he had sent a form signed by him and the psychiatrist and a copy of my old birth certificate to attest to my mistaken birth gender. I would get a new birth certificate.

Nigel was even getting used to being around me and watched my life with interest as I started to interface as a ‘chick’. I guess it was more to do with the other girls I was going to be bringing home than the fact of my being a girl with an extra bit.

So I started my summer hols with a sort of eyes wide open aspect of absorbing everything from a different point of view a whole new spectrum of colours and textures entered my ken and I felt like someone had spilt a paintbox on all I saw.

I mentioned it to mum and she said that, “women see life a lot differently, it’s a brighter softer world — it’s caused by the hormone levels — which are probably quite high in you at the moment. We’ll find out on Tuesday since it’s time for your blood test again.” That’s mum, always ending the conversation on a positive note. ‘May the female force be with you’ might a good translation be - mmm. (sorry Yoda)

Monday was fun — it usually is on the first week of summer hols — a sort of relaxed euphoria of 8 weeks with nothing to do and you are right at the beginning of it.

Carol and Wendy made a point of dropping in and telling me their plans and asking if I wanted to fall in with them. On the curriculum was lots of swimming and wandering round town window shopping and hanging out at the local coffee joint — together with some picnics and stuff at the weekend.

It sounded a good way to join in with the general scene, except that in this mortal existence, I had never gone bare-chested since I was about 7, I had always felt ridiculous so always wore a T-shirt or polo shirt on the beach, even in swimming I had usually worn a vest. The reality of wearing a girl’s swimming costume said 10,000 things about how I felt about me and I wasn’t too heroic. To wear a bikini was almost a chasm of fear to overcome. What they also didn’t tell me about was the boys…. and how many of them there would be and how insistent (and pestilent) they are.

Wendy called up and told me what she was wearing on the Tuesday morning, “Um and how does this affect me?” I asked with that sort of puzzled remnant of boy lack of curiosity.

“Silly girl. I’m telling you so you can match me and we won’t look odd when we go to the “grounds”” (the coffee bar was called “Grounds for Enjoyment”) They sold the ground beans as well as the perked stuff. “Carol’s wearing the same stuff too.”

“When you come over, we’ll give you a bit of a makeover, you can’t go out without makeup. See you in an hour.”

The phone fell from my nerveless fingers as my mind went into shock… makeup….

“MUM!!!!”

She ran out of the kitchen wiping her hands on a towel — “what on Earth is the matter?”

“The girls are going to take me to “grounds” and put makeup on me.”

“Why can’t they do it at Wendy’s place?”

“What?”

“Why are they going to do your makeup in town?”

“What on Earth are you talking about?”

“You said they were going to take you to Grounds and put makeup on you”

“Oh mum, not in that order, they’re actually….” I stopped, mum had a grin a mile wide…. My panic started to subside. “Oh,” I looked a little phased and went and put on a pair of jeans and sandals with a bra and Tshirt.

I could feel my heart pounding a bit, I was about to be thrown to the lions. In one swoop I was going to go out without my mum, dressed as a girl, with a bra and makeup on. Was I really going to do this? I suddenly realised that Jerry couldn’t go out anyway, he didn’t have any clothes — Jenny had precious few, but I guess they’re all new so that’s not a burden and the beginning of summer hols is the time to buy up big.

I’d get some stuff with Carol and Wendy in town if I could coerce mum into giving me a few quid.

Twenty minutes later I swallowed, took a deep breath and opened the door, “bye mum,” I shouted.

“Wait a second honey, I want to see how you look,” came back from the study.

Mum came out holding a small shoulder bag in her hand. “Here, there’s a few things in there and a new Purse, I put some money and your ID in there.”

“ID?”

“Better have a look hadn’t you?” mum smirked and held out the bag.

I took it and retrieved a smart looking leather purse I opened it and there inside was a picture of me taken the week before for school ID next term. In fact it was my school ID card — Girl’s High School ID… I looked up at mum and grabbed her by the neck in a monster hug. “Wow, that was quick, I feel like I really am real now.” In my mind a metaphorical tick went on the list of things I had to do, my chest hurt as if I was having a heart attack (not that I knew what one felt like) anxiety was a nasty creature, I was reminded of an old Black and white Vincent Price movie — “The Tingler” — I was brought back to reality

“--Well we don’t want you not being able to prove your identity when you use your credit card, do we?”

“Credit card? I looked deeper into the purse. Five ten pound notes, some change, a credit card with Miss Jenny K Holland on it, debit card also named to me.

I couldn’t see much more, the tears were falling so fast, “hey less tears into the bag, you’ll soak it.”

“Oh mum, you’re fantastic, and dad of course, but he’s not here so you get all the hugs…”

Suddenly, the abyss of my limit of competent thought was being reached, I sat down abruptly on the chair in the hall.

“It’s no good mum, I can’t do it, noway notime nohow. I can’t cope with all this so fast.” I wasn’t crying, I was in shock, my mind had shut down, I could hear my breath shuffling in and out like a steam train on a steep grade. The stars in front of my eyes turned into spangles and I felt the edge of my sight go black as I started to hyperventilate into unconciousness, I felt my mothers arm at my back as she lowered me to the floor….

I awoke a little later, I was on the sofa with a cool flannel on my forehead. I could hear mum in the kitchen on the phone. The words were not clear so I relaxed — I guess she was phoning the doctor. When she came back into the lounge, she had a worried look that she was trying to mask with a smile.

“That was Julie, she said that once you’d had a chance to get your breath back you should try to go and see your friends — it’s important that you don’t back out now as you may be left behind and that’ll be worse for you in the long run.”

I looked at the clock on the mantelpiece it had only moved 5 minutes from the time I had keeled over (or more or less since I’d looked at my watch as I left the house).

“You’re kidding me? I pass out from anxiety and you tell me to jump into the lion’s mouth anyway?”

“Julie said it was more likely a correcting action due to the excitement and the fear together. Don’t forget you’ve only been on HRT for a short while, it’s quite an emotional load.”

“Do you expect me to ignore it altogether? I haven’t got a clue how to react in any situation that involves interfacing with anyone other than one or two friends and my family. How do you expect me to cope with a mall full?”

Mum came over and sat with me, she took both my hands in hers — mine were still quite a bit smaller. “Are you seriously suffering darling? If you are we can go and see Julie and maybe get some tranquillisers or something, maybe she can hypnotise you.”

She made googly eye expressions and pretended to zombie her head. I shook my head and grinned at the ridiculous goon show.

“You’re right mum, but I need to rethink my position later — I don’t want to get onto drugs that I can’t get out of my system and I need to make as much use of the holidays as possible to learn who I am. I’m just going to have to take a deep breath and run with it and hope no one kills me in the meantime. Do I really pass OK?”

Mum narrowed her eyes and looked at me, “what do you mean by that?”

“Do you think you’d recognise me as a guy if you didn’t know?”

“Darling, I hate to tell you this, you’re not a guy at all, you certainly don’t look like one and you should be highly insulted if anyone looks twice at you with that in mind.”

I searched her face for a hint of a lie, I found none.

“I’m sorry mum, I have this awful feeling lurking at the back of my mind that I look like I used to and no one ever thought I was a girl before now.”

I got up from the sofa and my handbag fell from my lap where I’d forgotten it, I reached down and retrieved it. “I’d better go, Wendy will be wondering where I am.”

Mum held out her hand — in it were two cards — I looked at her with an expression usually seen on Christmas morning.

“OK the credit card has a limit of 200 pounds and the debit card may only be used in emergencies, the pin number is the last four digits of your id card, change it if you think you need to. You can draw up to 50 pounds on it. Sign the Visa card now” She handed me a pen.

“Since when do I get to have so much money to spend? Did you win the pools?”

“Well the fact is, that as long as you give me all the receipts for clothes that you buy, the insurance company will wear the cost, don’t spend up big on buying gifts for everyone, this is purely so you can build up your wardrobe. You’re not stupid and you’re not immature. They way you have worked through your gender problems have been a true mark of your courage and responsibility and this is the reward for your good grades in a time of what must have been pure hell. Treat the privilege wisely and you will retain it.”

Mum gave me a huge hug, patted my bottom and ushered me to the doorstep, “now go on, have a nice day with the girls and don’t kiss all the boys.” She grinned at the last statement. I almost stalled again.

“I never thought of that, there’ll be boys there mum, what’ll I do?”

“Just follow Wendy’s lead sweetie, you’ll be OK.”

It seemed no sooner I had stepped outside I was at Wendy’s door, pulse racing again.

“Come in, come in, give us a hug, summer holidays and we’re 15 and hot to trot, girl this is going to be a blast. Carol! Jenny’s here.”

“Bring her up here, we gotta shift and get into town.”

I was ushered into the bedroom where once my dreams had been to be invited. I was pushed into the stool by the vanity with my back to it and Carol got to work, “We’ll do this now, but you’ve got to learn this stuff or you’ll have to go without. We haven’t got time every day to dish you up.”

I have no idea what they did, but when I looked I appeared to be a little older and accentuated, but didn’t look like I was wearing makeup. I was duly impressed — it had only taken them about ten minutes too.

“MUM, we’re off into town now, we’ll be back at 4pm or we’ll ring.” Wendy sang out to her mum.

“Bring Jenny in here, I want to see what she looks like.”

Wendy groaned and turned me to the kitchen, “Go and get ‘the inspection’. We’re right behind you.”

Denise looked me up and down, “well I must say, you make a lovely young woman. Have a nice time, please try to stay together girls and don’t forget this is Jenny’s first time out in public. Oh and don’t forget she’s probably not been to the ladies yet, better give her the rundown on that too.”

“Well I have actually Mrs Roberts, but I’d appreciate any help anyway.” I tried to sound nonchalant but sounded a bit silly. I felt like throwing up really but I guess hurling wasn’t allowed if I was to get to town at all today.

Denise handed Wendy a ten pound note, Wendy’s eyes lit up, “wow thanks mum.”

“Make it count” was all Denise said.

We turned and left before she could put it in her purse… “coffee’s on you” Carol said hugging Wendy across the shoulders. We all snickered and headed for the bus stop.

Town was crowded with school kids — second day of holidays was like that… everyone finding their strategy for the coming weeks; who had transport, where the best coffee/boys/girls/snacks (even beer if you looked old enough) was to be had.

“You got any money Jenny?” Carol asked as we looked in the local shops.

“Actually I don’t like to say it, so keep it to yourselves, mum gave me a credit card but I have to treat it like a non-renewable resource — I don’t know how long I get to keep it, but the nicer I am with it, the longer it will be.”

The other girls looked at me with round eyes… “A CREDIT CARD? Holy Hell girl, you’ve been a girl 2 months and you managed to squeeze a card out of your folks? You are unreal!”

“I didn’t even ask actually, but I also don’t really know how much I can use it, so I have to be really careful. Besides, I have a few quid if I want to buy something for my wardrobe, but I need to know what you guys have so I can get something similar.

Just sort of catch up if you know what I mean.”

“Sounds like we get to have some fun trying stuff on anyway.”

“Have you got pierced ears?”

I pulled my hair back revealing virgin ears… “We’ll get that done this afternoon then” Carol offered…

I blanched

“Hey it’s not painful, I had it done when I was six.” Wendy consoled.

“Anyway you don’t want clip on stuff, they hurt heaps more and you knock them off all the time and lose them.” Carol added pulling on her hoops to show they don’t fall off. I winced, she laughed, “it doesn’t hurt silly.”

After we got settled into the coffee bar, Carol put her hand on my arm and asked gently if I would tell them all about what happened to me, they’d heard bits and I’d told them some, but they wanted to know all about it. I looked at them and hoped they had as much integrity as they appeared to. I really needed to tell them what the story was completely. I needed to trust them wholly. I stirred my frothy coffee and looked at my two friends.

“I’m going to tell you my story, and I’m not going to leave out any of it, good bad or indifferent, but I want to tell you also that I’m telling you this because you’re my best friends and I trust you. I don’t want this to become tittletattle and gossip. I want to leave this behind and have a real life without becoming the local weirdo. Ok?”

I looked at them again and they both nodded and placed their hands on mine, “We promise we won’t let you down Jenny,” Wendy looked so sincere and Carol affirmed with a “Me too, I promise.” I squeezed both their hands. I told them my story.

After the saga was finished, Wendy told me that she’d suspected I was a bit different but realised I wasn’t gay, she hadn’t worked out the transgender thing at all.

Lunchtime arrived and we had a plate of toasted sandwiches and some more coffee…

Then we went shopping, and before I could get onto the pavement from the coffee bar I was turned into the nail parlour next door — a sign on the wall said “ear piercing while you wait.”

I wondered how they did it if you didn’t wait.

I heard the click of the gun and felt almost nothing — painful it wasn’t but I ended up with a pair of blue topaz birth stone studs sparkling from my ears.

“Wash round them with antiseptic every 12 hours and turn them in your ear as often as you remember.” I was told by the assistant who tagged me.

I always wondered why girl’s played with their earrings…

At this point I only had one skirt, and three pairs of jeans/pants and a few tops — mostly Tshirts. I didn’t want to explode onto the scene as if I had no clothes, I wanted to build up quietly and be able to have the right clothes for the occasion — I hated the sort of buying that epitomises the bimboesque culture. All that afternoon, I didn’t see one person that I knew from school. But then I wasn’t in an area that catered to males for most of the time.

I went home that evening worn out and with two bags I’d spent only 25 pounds and I’d got two pairs of shorts and another skirt a lightweight jacket and some minor makeup products — enough for day wear in summer.

Mum was really chuffed that I hadn’t gone overboard.

Nigel had all but disappeared since we broke up but he rang to tell mum where he was on a regular basis — he wasn’t bad as a guy goes and he was quite responsible. He had actually gotten a job in town bussing tables at a restaurant in the evenings. During the day he was soaking up the sun at the local outdoor pool and ogling girls.

Living near the sea was something of a bonus as there was a lot of traffic in humans that go to the seaside in summer and hence there was a plethora of pubs clubs and restaurants in the area — Pubs were out for me for a while, but there was potential for work from the age of 16 — which is why being 15 is a bonus… it’s the last summer that you can be free of responsibility. I hated the beach and I don’t think I’d been there more than 6 times since I was 5. I hated the sand in my costume and the salt on my skin. I preferred the softness of a decent freshwater pool and knowing that you weren’t swimming in something someone flushed down the loo.

I was also conscious of the fact that for 1000 people in any large pool, there were only about 20 toilets… this was as off-putting as the sand so I tended to sit on grass and swim in private pools if I could. I didn’t have many friends whose fortunes extended to owning a pool (nor their parents for that matter).

As the week wore on and I acquired a sense of fashion Wendy and Carol made sure that I also acquired a Bikini. I had actually bought a one piece and it was really quite demure inasmuch as it covered more than most costumes that were available. Wendy had bought another bikini and I had thought it was for her. When I got home on the Wednesday, I found it in my bags along with the one I had bought with a little note, “keep the other one till you are a granny” a small heart and Wendy signed across the bottom.

I phoned her and asked her what the go was, “I don’t think I could ever wear a bikini Wendy, it’s a nice thought but you’ll have to take it back,” I felt I’d disappointed her. She put down the phone without another word. I was just finishing putting my stuff away, feeling a bit sad that Wendy had rung off and downcast generally about my general lack of discretion when Mum called upstairs, “Wendy’s here, I’ll send her up?” the last bit was a question and I shouted “sure, as long as she’s unarmed”. I could feel mum frown even from inside my room.

She appeared at the door (Wendy that is), “What’s all this about missy?” she waved her arm at the bikini that sat on the bed — her bikini — the four little triangles sown together, with stretchy string to hold them onto your body. Insubstantial and totally impractical, barely covering anything that one holds (or at least should hold) sacrosanct.

“Strip!” It was an order.

“Come on Wendy, you know I can’t do that, I’m not wearing a bikini this summer, I’ll never be able to hold my head up if someone recognises me as it is, with a bikini on, it makes it a thousand times worse. I feel like a target zone for every bigot and homophobe in the country.” I tried to keep my tears at bay but I felt my nose getting sniffy and I reached for a tissue.

Wendy sat on the bed next to the offending garment, “Jenny, please let me help you a little bit, I’m trying, really I am. I want you to slip quickly into the mainstream and I think I understand where you’re coming from. If you turn up at the pool with a ‘one piece’ on, they’re gonna go for your throat — why would you wear one of those? To cover something up — people are going to wonder what and you’re going to find a lot of curiosity and the type of attention you’re not seeking. If you want to wear the bikini with a Tshirt, then that’s probably ok — or even an open lightweight blouse, you can tie it under your boobs and make more of them too… I might even try it myself.”

She grinned suddenly at the thought of Ursula Andress in “She”, looking down over the bay at Villefranche.

I looked over at the bikini, lying innocuously on the bed, source of every man’s dreams and every badly shapen woman’s nightmare.

“Go on Jen, Please give it a try.”

I nodded not moving my eyes from the colourful object, “ok I’ll try it, avert your gaze while I remove my garments”… I flushed, god when am I going to get over this.

“If it will make you feel any better, I’ll strip as well,” Wendy offered… I flushed even more, my newly pierced ears throbbed suddenly, “NOOO, I don’t think that such a good idea.”

I disrobed and before I removed my panties I donned a robe then swapped them for the bikini bottom. It felt no different to the panties and felt in fact more substantial. I reached for the top and tried to position it. Wendy lent a hand and I was soon prim and proper (as you could be in a bikini).

“Well come on then, take off the dressing gown,” Wendy rolled her eyes in supplication to a mightier power. I complied. “Wow, you sure grew fast,” got through the roaring in my ears.

I looked across at the mirror and there I was, Jennifer K Holland spinster of this parish — clad in my first Bikini and I DIDN’T look like a boy — not in the slightest, not one iota.

“Mrs Holland, can I borrow you for a moment,” Wendy had called down the stair as I admired myself — mum appeared at the door, “that’s Auntie Beth dear if that’s ok by you.” She looked over at me by the mirror — she could see my back and the reflection of my front in the mirror, an instant all round view. “My, my, quite a knockout, ok who are you and what have you done with my daughter?” she grinned at my reflection.

I grinned back, my embarrassment taking a back seat to my awful pride. “Wendy bought it for me, is it ok?”

“I’d say so sweetie, that sure makes you look something, are you going to wear that to the pool? You’ll have all the boys drooling and making the pool water slimy.” I laughed out loud — my mother had given me the sort of boost that only a mother knows how. ‘I shall go to the ball’.

I had all Thursday to think about my day coming — I blew hot and cold and I backed out a dozen times. Only to reclaim the lost land when my confidence returned. I started to understand how my mind was working — I began to feel that I was beginning to live as me and not some mental cripple who had no right to be themselves.

So it happened that on the Friday of the first week I ended up at the pool wearing a little bikini, over it I wore a cropped halter top just to assuage my modesty and pure blue funk. I have to admit it was a fairly modest one which I filled reasonably well if you think of a 15 year old late into puberty. The remains of my manhood were all but indiscernible in my bikini bottom and hence my shape for a 100lb chick was about what you’d expect… a promise of things to come and worth reconnoitring.

I was there with Wendy and Carol of course (they made sure I was between them at all times- my request) and one or two others, Joanne and Helen, had come into the circle, so there were five of us lined up on the grassy bank above the pool edge. Joanne and Helen didn’t know of my sudden rise to fame and took me as a new kid on the block — I was regarded as a bit of a Tomboy as I was a little less refined, but stripped down, I had a tidy shape and was quite acceptable — particularly as my hair was luxuriant and my skin was in nice condition. Lying there watching the world pass by was nice and it wasn’t expensive — just a coke and some snacky stuff now and then… acquire a tan and give the boys something to ogle at.

A group of 5 guys about our age were doing the rounds and the other girls were making cracks about them, it didn’t interest me much so I dozed quietly until a shadow fell across my skin making me suddenly chill — “Hi Girls what’re you all doing makin’ this place look like the Riviera?” I recognised the voice….Nigel, my own bloody brother hadn’t the sense to stay away from me until I realised, he hadn’t recognised me yet he hadn’t seen past the sunglasses I was wearing and obviously hadn’t associated a pubescent chick with his ex brother.

The guys stood around as we all sat up expecting one of them to do the introductions.

Instead I jumped the gun hoping Nigel would back off, “Ah girls, my brother Nigel,” gesturing to him “and his friends Graham, Peter, Martin and Geoff.” Marking off the row. My brother’s face went paler than my backside. Oddly none of the guys turned a hair except him.

“Bloody hell Nigel — you didn’t tell me your sister was a babe” Peter enthused.

“Oh forgive me guys I’m Jenny this is Joanne, Helen, Carol and Wendy.”

I lay back down and started to sweat. I had just tested every line in the sand — at once.

I had put all my eggs into the one basket and all my cards on the table, I clichéd my whole existence waiting for the other shoe to fall.

“How’s about you all accompanying us up to the Lakeside Café for a drink? Graham pipes up. My brother is saying something about having to go early and sidling away a bit. I’m not in the least interested in making out with a load of Nigel’s friends, but my friends are interested, so I guess it’s a good ploy to get them all into the same circle.

I wonder if they realise we’re only 15 and they’re mostly 18.

Is that too big a gap? I don’t know, maybe they’ll wander off, maybe they won’t.

We got up and slung our towels around our shoulders and picked up our bags — we seem to have snagged ourselves some free coffees. I felt sick, I felt like someone was going to rip me another hole just as soon as they discovered my brother’s brother was my brother’s sister.

What I didn’t know was that my brother and his friends had already decided on who they wanted to escort and as we sorted ourselves I found myself next to Martin who uttered the immortal words, “I didn’t know Nige had a sister, you seemed to know us, have I met you before?”

“Ah — there’s a photo of you on Nigel’s dresser — from when you went skiing last year. He pointed you all out to me. I have a funny memory for faces.” I tried to suppress the laugh and the hysteria mounting in my chest. This was some bluff I was hauling. I hope I didn’t get it all out of shape.

Martin pulled a chair back for me to sit on and I draped my towel over the back and seat so I didn’t burn my tush, I smiled a thank you at him. Nigel in the meantime has picked up Wendy who is looking a bit overwhelmed by the attention. Nigel is not happy. By the looks of it he’s realised we’re all too young to earn his wings on — and one of them is his sister….

He came over to me and leaned over to whisper, “My god, what’re we going to do?”

“Why ask me? you’re the one who can’t recognise his own sister. Do they know we’re only 15 year olds for a start?”

My dear idiot brother smacked his forehead and said, “Thanks, that’s it, I’ll tell them you’re all underage and we can back off gracefully.”

“Don’t bet on it, I just watched Graham and he’s really into Carol. You may be stuck with us, I hope you can warn Martin that if he touches me you’ll kill him. He’s going to get a big shock if he gets into my panties.”

Nigel groaned, “My God, what a mess. I’ll sort it out.”

He stood and went to regroup with his mates — I’m feeling wretched by this time, almost nauseous with anxiety. Helen leaned over and commiserated, “I know how you must be feeling — all your brother’s mates, the guys you’ve always wanted to keep clear of, my brother’s mates are too old thank God but they leer at me all the time.”

“These guys are all over 18 too,” I returned, “I wouldn’t want to go out with them, all hands and hairy faces yuck.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad to me…” Helen smiled back at me and giggled suddenly — obviously thinking about the hands bit.

The men returned with a tray loaded with cold drinks, “first in best dressed,” Martin called” and I grabbed a Coke — there was a lot of Pepsi and Fanta on that tray and I hate them.

“Nigel tells me you’re all jailbait?” Martin said quietly, “I’m ok with that, how do you feel?”

Suddenly it was all up to me, “Well personally I think you’re ok, but the fact you’re a mate of Nigel’s messes me up a bit. I’m not sure it would work too well.” I’m trying to dampen his ardour and not give the game up for my friends.

“I’d need to confer, but I think it’s up to individual tastes. What do you think?”

“Well I think Nigel is a sod for keeping it quiet he had a sister as well as a brother, you look quite a lot like him too.” He smiled at me.

I’m thinking my God he knows. Does he know? He can’t know. He must know, will he hurt me? Everyone else is laughing and joking and having a great time. I’m sinking fast — trying to get Nigel’s attention but he’s locked eyes with Wendy and I can’t break in.

“Are you ok?” Martin sounded concerned but not overly.

“Yeah I’m ok, I’m just not used to being in Nigel’s territory, he’s very diffident when it comes to his mates — he’s warned my to keep away from you guys, he doesn’t want to have squabbles with his mates over his sister’s virtue.” I put it bluntly.

“Oh, I see,” he stood up and walked over to Nigel leaving me feeling guilty and isolated. Nigel rose when Martin neared him. They conferred for a moment or two then Nigel sat down again. Martin returned.

“He said he trusted me.” He grinned and asked, “do you?”

“Actually no, but I’m willing to talk to you this afternoon if you want, just to keep my friends happy.” I gave him a short smile.

“So be it.” He bowed his head, “Seems I have this afternoon to convince you that I’m a good guy.”

“I‘d rather you didn’t, I really don’t want to develop this any further.” I pushed trying to convince him that it was no use. “He replied “No pain, no gain.”

The next hour or two was difficult, I came over as a Tomboy and I knew too much about sports and cars and stuff. It seemed I was Martin’s kind of girl and he was even more convinced I should be his girlfriend or at least give him a try.

Some of the other girls had really paired off and seemed happy to have an 18 year old as a BF. I wasn’t happy about it at all. I knew I would be pumped about these guys and I knew some pretty base stuff about them. I’d sat in on some of their conversations and been appalled by their second brains coming into play as they described what they’d done to this girl or that. The girls would get to know but I couldn’t hold open court on it now.

Eventually the sun sank low enough for us to need to cover up and we rose to leave and change. Martin turned my face towards him with his finger under my chin and before I could react, he’d kissed me. “I hope you’ll reconsider,” I was too stunned to answer, I just looked down and picked up my bag, trying to hold off the tears. I’m not sure what the tears signified, joy that I was a woman, fear that I would be killed by him for not declaring my past or misery that I wasn’t able to make it happen again.

The other girls (other girls — yup that’s me, one of them) were all ready to go so we upped and left the guys — some of us had given out telephone numbers — no one needed mine — they all knew Nigel’s. I needed space because the other girls hadn’t been au fait with my past — so they knew little except that my brother’s mates were their potential boyfriends and that they’d seen me being kissed by Martin.

Helen, who was closest to me (she was sat next to me at the café), had seen the twinkle in Martin’s eye. “Girl, you surely got him to come on line fast, conquest no 1 for the summer and it’s not a week old.”

“Aw come on Helen, he just fancied his chances with his mate’s little sister, he reckons he’s on privileges.”

“Yeah — like Le Droit de signeur privileges you mean?”

Joanne asked, “What’s Le Droit De Signeur then?”

“The right of the lord of the manor to have the bride of one of his serfs on the first night of the honeymoon.”

My face paled, I hadn’t realised that meaning either. “Gawd, don’t go there…”

Helen giggled and was about to tease me some more when Carol came over and gave me a hug and told me not to worry. She explained to Helen I’d had a bad experience with a family friend when I was younger. Pure lie, but it fitted quite well with how I was feeling.Two weeks ago I had the same accoutrements as Martin, now he was testing the temperature of my tonsils with his tongue. I suddenly felt sick. I dry reached a couple of times and Helen suddenly looked a bit frightened.

“You ok?”

“I’ve felt better.”

We split up and went our way, Carol and Wendy of course coming my way.

Wendy was quite pleased she had ‘trapped’ my brother. I asked her not to kiss him in front of me — at least not yet, I was still in culture shock for someone whom I regarded as my old girlfriend. I really didn’t want to have that image in my mind.

“Sorry, yes that must be a bit off of me.” She chided herself looking guilty and reaching out her hand and touching my arm. I squeezed her hand, “S’ok.”

We parted at our gate and I promised to ring with any news as did they.

Mum and dad were home, Nigel wasn’t. I decided to tell mum what had transpired before I told dad so she could break it gently to him if she thought it was touchy material. I spoke timely words of wisdom, Dad hit the walls fast enough to stay off the floor for two full circuits.

“What do you mean he kissed a boy?” I heard through the walls.

“A friend of Nigel’s? I’ll kill him taking advantage of my little girl…”

I buried my head in my pillow — I didn’t want to hear any more. Trouble is, it wasn’t going to go away. It wasn’t just the fact dad had become protective of me, he still hadn’t even worked out the pronouns. I knew this wasn’t going to be a short haul situation.

Nigel came through the door about 30 minutes later nonchalantly whistling tunelessly through his teeth… I was wondering if he’d have any left when dad had fini--- “NIGEL !! front and centre!”

I sat stiffly waiting for the “Jenny” call.

It came, gently from the bottom of the stairs “Jenny dear, could you come down, we need to clear this up.”

“Coming.”

I looked at mum as I descended, no hint of wrath in her face, her eyes regarded me with soft and loving care. I relaxed.

“Ok, we seem to have hit a real sticky spot here, Nigel says he would’ve backed off from introducing if he’d realised you were there. What is your version?”

I looked over at Nigel, his face looked pale and I could see pleading and fear in his eyes.

“I introduced them simply because I would’ve looked stupid if I hadn’t — If Nigel had cared to actually recognise me by being familiar with who I am it might have helped a lot. I also found myself unable to chat with him after he abandoned me to the “charms”(I wiggled my fingers in the air for the emphasis) of his mate. I’m not sure if he felt it was his duty to help his mates find some female company, but I thought it a bit crass of him to let his sister get familiar with someone that he knows might have identified his “brother” (I wiggled my fingers again) and caused no end of damage both to his circle of friends and mine. I was not amused.”

“What about this kissing?” My father probed looking me squarely in the eyes for some indication that I’d liked it.

“It happened, I wasn’t expecting it, and though I was appalled at first, the idea wasn’t hard to come to terms with.” I looked over at Nigel — I could sense rather than see relief in his eyes.

“So you are telling me that you’re going to be available to boys?” My father looked sickened.

I suppose he really hadn’t thought it through any more than I had. Even though he’d given me the go ahead to be female accepted me as his daughter, he still regarded me as something of a sexless person. Had I been the one to have kissed another girl previous to this, he’d have been proud I guess.

“I’m really sorry to have to shake the basket like this, but I’m a girl dad, and though I didn’t expect to be in this position three months ago, nevertheless I am. I’m nearly 16 years old, I’m full of hormones - female hormones — and I have discovered that I’m heterosexual. I’m sorry if that’s not what you expected.”

I hadn’t foreseen the irritation that my kiss would cause both me and my father, but we’d taken diametrically opposed sides and though I didn’t want to let Nigel off the hook for causing this situation, it made sense to me that he hadn’t really made too much of the scenario.

“I would like to add however that Nigel should ring his mate, Martin, and tell him to lay off his sister. I have been in company with him whilst he’s been bragging about his conquests and I don’t like the idea of being with him… or holding hands with him either.” I grimaced and shuddered remembering the times he’d boasted about his masturbation ‘techniques’ and I felt quite sickened.

“Fair enough I think Nigel, what do you think?” My father pointed his question with his eyes, brow lowered and teeth almost gritted. He was master of the house again and Nigel was back to being the young buck.

“Ok, I ring the guys and tell them to leave off.” He sounded completely done like a dinner.

“No, that’s not what I meant,” (am I daft or what).

All eyes turned back to me. “All I want is Martin to leave me alone, I’m not going to answer for the other girls, though I will tell them via Wendy and Carol who know my past what sort of guys they are, so as to be forewarned.” I felt manipulative and conniving all of a sudden, I had got the situation where it needed to be, with us Girls. Did I just think that….?

My dad grinned, “Christ you’re just like your mum,” mum patted me on the shoulder and gave me a “that’s my girl,” under her breath.

“Nigel, ring your mates and tell them to back off, I’m not going to be hearing about this sort of stuff again. Is that clear?” Father has spoken.

“Yes dad,”

“Now!”

“Ok ok, I’m shaking the bush, I’m shaking the bush” he left to phone round.

“I’m happy that you let us know what happened, I’m glad you have that sort of confidence in us, I will try not to interfere unless I feel that you’re going too fast, is that understood Jenny?” My father stood in front of me, I looked up into his eyes, I was a little taken aback, there was a tenderness there that I’d never seen in my life. I threw myself into his arms and whispered, “Yes daddy, I love you, thank you.” Had I looked up at that point I would have seen the wetness in his eyes that reflected my own.

When Nigel reported back he said that he’d warned Martin off and that Martin had been really pissed with him, but understood. The other guys had also decided to stay as a group rather than try their hand with the girls on an individual basis.

“I didn’t think it through sis, I’m really sorry. I’d pretty much forgotten that you were Jerry and had been almost part of the group when they were round here. I guess that must be pretty disgusting. I’m starting to understand why guys don’t let their mates date their sisters. Won’t happen again.” He gave me a shoulder hug and tousled my hair, I looked up at him… then slapped his face, he was looking down my front again.

“MEN!”

We went through for tea.

Once the commotion had died down over the weekend, we (!) girls all got together again and pretty much decided to make a pact to chase boys on an individual basis as it was too fraught with angst to try to match five guys with us as a group.

So we were back to lounging in the sun if it was out and dossing in the café if it was rainy. One or two of the girls did get off with guys there but for the time being I was happy to acquire the taste slowly so to speak.

 

*          *          *

 

End of Part 2

 

 

To Be Continued...

The Way Things Happen

---

It was time to go see the shrink again and also the endo to check my hormone levels.

Julie had my last set of levels and told me that I was bang in the middle of the range for my age and that my liver function was excellent and that there didn’t seem to be any problems. In the interview we discussed how I felt about male company and I found that I had genuinely found some guys attractive but I didn’t feel I was ready to take it one step further.

We also discussed my development and my physical appearance. Julie was quite excited with my progress and asked if what she saw pushing out my top was all me — I assured her it was and she asked if I’d do a twirl for her so she could assess all the changes. “Are you taking measurements?” She asked afterwards.

“No, I am just finding the clothes fitting a bit better where they’re supposed to really — I know my boobs hurt a lot most of the time and my nipples are huge compared to what they were, and they seem to be hard all the time.”

“Is anyone taking photos of you at the pool?” She asked as if she’d just thought of something.

“Yes Helen took some the other day, why?” I was puzzled.

“Well I presume you were wearing a costume?”

“Yes, a bikini.”

“Could you get me a copy for my file? I think I’d like to get one of you from about six months ago too if that’s possible?”

“Sure, I think I can manage that — whole body or portrait?”

“Whole body if you have one”

“Yes. I’ve got one of me in the back yard at Easter, I was hanging off the washing line practising.”

“What were you practising?”

“Crucifixion of course, it was Easter” — I was thinking of continuing that line of joke, but I could see she was frowning — I chortled. “I’ll get you the piccie — you’ll see what I mean.”

“Nuff said,” she waved her hands. “See you next time.”

She wrote in the margin as I left, ‘stable, confident, secure.’

I wish I felt it.

About the middle of the third week I was believe it or not, beginning to get bored. Mum and Dad had decided to forego a holiday this year since Nigel wasn’t old enough to look after the house on his own (party time!!!) and the expense of my change was not going to be reimbursed by the insurance company for some more months — they said quarterly but that was from their start date which was about the end of July.

I asked mum if I could get a job, she reminded me that I was only 15 and I had to wait. I wasn’t 16 for a while yet (March) I had a long way to go. I took up tennis instead and Carol decided that she’d like to do it too — Wendy backed off and said it was hard enough to keep fit without doing things like play tennis. Apparently she had a history of tripping over her feet and damaging her wrists.

Tennis was a lot of fun and I thought I was doing great until I played a lad who was actually a year younger than me and a bit smaller — he beat me so thoroughly that I felt ashamed and lost my impetus for the competitive sports.

“Mum?” I called her attention as I scrunched into some really warm buttered toast, honey dripping from the fold.

“What precious? Did you spill some of that goo off your bread?”

“No, I was just thinking that I’m just so useless at tennis, perhaps I should try something like badminton or table tennis.”

“What makes you think you’d be any better at those? — why not go for broke and say Golf? The clubs are only about 400 pounds a set and the fees a mere 500 a year…look petal I just bought you a tennis outfit and a very nice racquet, could you keep it up for a while longer?”

“Well there is another reason, my boobs are getting in the way and they’re very tender and I keep rubbing them with my arms and it stops me making some of the shots and makes my serve rubbish.” I finished all in a rush.

Mum sat opposite me as I finished my toast. “It’s called body mapping dear, you are growing faster than your mind can keep up and it makes you clumsy like Wendy is at the moment.” I had to grin, remembering her falling over her doorstep the day before.

“Oh I see.”

“This is one year where you may be better off learning something like Swimming — but you won’t go in the pool much because you’re such a wus about the chemicals.”

“I’m a wus about the faeces mum, and all the urine. The chemicals are in there to prevent them from infecting us.” I shuddered and mum shook her head to clear away the image…

“Mmm, I get your drift,” we looked at each other sensing the awful pun and burst out laughing together.

“Hey how about sailing? There’s a sailing club down on the bay and you can meet some really nice people too.”

“Can I get lessons?” I was suddenly eager to take her up on this — it seemed ideal.

I suddenly daydreamed about some sexy guy in a roll neck sweater at the yacht club wining and dining me. Well buying me a coke and fries anyway!!

“Well why don’t you pop down to the bay chandlery and ask in there, they’re bound to know.” So I had a quest for the day.

I rang Wendy and asked if she’d like to come too, she said yes after a small pause, much to my surprise. I think she had daydreamed my daydream! Carol had latched onto a couple of guys at the tennis club I got a negative from her and I nearly got earache because she was lining me up with her potential boyfriend’s pal. I’m glad I wasn’t involved — the pal was a spotty red haired boy with dirty fingernails and knobbly knees (I found out later he was also Gay).

Wendy and I met up and caught the bus down to the bay — it was a nice spot and full of ice cream parlours and fish and chip shops. There was no fishing here since it was a sandy bay but there were always fresh shrimps and cockles and even whelks (eeewww) As we walked along the front it was interesting to note that the beach was littered with boys about our age — it seemed they had nothing to do either and no money to do it with. They played footy between piles of clothes used as virtual goalposts and Frisbee and volleyball — it seems 15 is the year for developing kids.

There were of course plenty of other folks on the beach and the colourful towels and umbrellas gave a jaunty air to the scene, the bay was full of little white triangles — the sails that we might be hauling on in the days to follow. We stopped for a milk shake and a doughnut before we reached the boatyard where the sailing club was. I hated paying tourist prices but I guess I was using their space so I had to pay the price. I would be glad when the tourists went home. Sadly that would be just before we went back to school. The thought suddenly made me draw breath.

“Someone walk over your grave?”

“Nah, my desk. I was just thinking about going to girls school this autumn.” I sucked on my straw — Banana milkshakes are yummy.

I caught sight of two guys come in the café and sit two tables over, they gave us the once over. I suddenly felt really shaky.

“What’s up? you really look weird now,” she furrowed her brow in consternation.

“Those guys, they were in my class,” I shrunk down behind Wendy so they couldn’t see me.

“I thought you were in a class of your own?” Wendy joked while trying to get a glimpse of the two guys in the mirror over the counter. “Hey they look ok.”

“Shut the hell up will you? I don’t want them to hear you and come over, damn, too late.”

The guys rose like they’d spotted some delicacy they’d like to acquire. They had, us.

“Hi, can we join you, we’re at a loss of what to do and you look similarly engaged.”

That was the biggest sentence I’d heard from David in the 7 years I’d known him.

He was really quiet normally and though well liked was a shy boy and kept much to himself — Tony was his only pal and true to form he was there at David’s elbow.

Wendy turned to the guys, “Hi we’re actually just going to see if we can learn to sail, but we decided to have a drink first, this is Jenny,” she introduced me, “and I’m Wendy.” The boys dragged over two stools as if they’d been invited and I let out my breath, it seems they were pretty much blind — they didn’t recognise someone they’d known for 7 years.

“Hi, we’re David and Tony,” David motioned to himself then Tony as he spoke. “Do you live round here?”

“Bus ride away, one stage,” Wendy offered.

“Great,” David looked like he’d won the lotto. “You too?” he looked at me with big cow eyes, I grinned suddenly thinking ‘oh my God, he’s after ME.

“Yeah, me too the number 17 from here.” Giving him an indication that it was in almost the same direction as them. They looked even happier if that was possible. I was reminded of Garfield’s sidekick.

I looked at them and they looked ok as far as boys do, and I realised that with these two hanging about it was likely that we wouldn’t be pestered too much by others — I had been ogled and accosted every day so far and whilst it was innocuous in the main, it was nevertheless a bit unnerving and tested me emotionally.

“Does it cost much?” I was brought to Earth.

“Pardon?” I almost jumped at the connotations that rose.

“Sailing, does it cost much to do it?” Tony volunteered.

“Oh., sorry, I was miles away. I don’t know we haven’t asked yet. Did you want to try it too?”

They looked at each other and both turned to us and beamed a big “YES! If you will”

We finished our drinks and rose to leave, the guys didn’t even have one. “Aren’t you going to have a drink?” Wendy picked it before I did.

“We’ll come with you if that’s ok?” David wasted no time.

In the Chandlery the sign was up for sailing school — I suddenly thought about my daydream of before and the sailor in the roll neck sweater buying me dinner then I saw the reality — an old school acquaintance, like a puppy dog panting at my heels. Ah well.

“Excuse me, could you tell us about the sailing school, we thought we’d like to try it?” I advanced to the old guy behind the counter — he looked less like an old seafaring man than a bank teller. He was sort of white smooth and round like a gobstopper (sucky sweet) with a combover and black horn rimmed glasses. He wasn’t tall and I’d say he was badly dressed but he was wearing a brown shop coat over his clothes so it was hard to tell.

“Yeas my little love,” he started, “there’s a school starting next week on Monday morning. You’ll need to fill in these forms and read the indemnity clause and if you’re under 16 your parent or guardian will have to sign.” He handed out a form.

“We’ll need four of them being as how there’s four of us,” I looked him in the eye, he levered his eyes off Wendy’s chest, Wendy didn’t look amused. Tony hadn’t noticed, he was looking at the same spot. “Sorry miss,” he said proffering the extra documents like sweeties… I had an image of him offering sweets to little kids … I felt sick.

“El Yucko, what a dirty old man,” I looked at Wendy as she flicked imaginary dirt off her clothes, “I hate guys like that, it’s so slimy.”

We sat down on a bench that overlooked the quay and the boys sat down David on my side and Tony on Wendy’s — I looked at Wendy and she shrugged and smiled back — she was comfortable with our puppies. I was too — it took all the hardship out of being a newbie at this — they would accept anything to be at our side. Behind our backs as we read the brochures and forms the guys looked at each other and smiled the smile of conquering heroes. We didn’t mind, and had I been one of the guys, I might have thought the same way. I had come a long way in the last few months. We left the boys on the bus on the way home, they were looking forward to seeing us on the Monday for the start of the course.

The cost of the sailing school was minimal and subsidised by the RNLI (Royal National Lifeboat Institution) which was fantastic. I guess they would rather have trained sailors out on the water than ignorant people they would have to rescue. All we had to do was supply our own clothing and indemnify the club if we drowned. I hope they were good teachers. Mum was as pleased as punch, she’d got us out of her hair for almost nothing and the clothing was to be scruffy stuff (not that I had any ) that didn’t matter if it got soaked.

I spent the weekend reading a rather old book on sailing that I found on the bookshelf — mum said all the names of the bits of rope and stuff were locked in history and would be the same now. I could imagine if it had been changed, it would sound a bit silly…. ‘Hoist the main engine’ — ‘reef that propellor’… Ah what wit.

Of course the boats we were to sail were the most ludicrous little tubs in the world — Mirror Dinghies. And motorless as even a Seagull Outboard engine would be too powerful for a boat of such miniscule dimensions.

Sunday we had a BBQ and dad decided to let me cook the meat, which meant it wasn’t a burnt offering — I must be daft because he said, “looks like you’ll be doing the cooking in future, you’re a natural.”

I managed to cook everything but the potato salad and coleslaw — which mum did ( no she didn’t cook it).

As we sat adjusting our belts after gorging on meat patties and sausages and loads of fried onions, dad looked over at me and I sensed he wanted to ask me some questions that may be difficult not only to answer but even for him to frame.

“Jenny, I’m not really helping you much at the moment, I don’t know how to — it is outside my ken (knowledge), I know mum said you’re doing Ok and I’ve seen the reports back from Julie (reports? I didn’t know she was reporting back!) that describe you as stable and enjoying life.

What I need to know from you is that you understand where you’re heading and an honest appraisal of how you’re coping with all this new stuff.”

It wasn’t a question, but it was a request for information on how I was doing. Dad looked quite pained, like he didn’t know who he was talking to. A stranger even. It felt awful. I could see he loved the noodles out of me but that he was lost in the cultural gap that he thought wasn’t going to be there as I grew up. Suddenly I was an alien. I wanted to go over and sit on his knee and give him a huge hug. A feeling I hadn’t felt since I was about seven guess.

Instead I left a silent gap for a moment then I looked at him — it was still daylight and warm. It was only 8 pm.

“You know when I look at you, I see someone different too, not the tough guy I’m going to model my life on, my role model, my friend and confidante. I see this kind and protective man, who has sacrificed his time to nurture and love his children and wife as best he can. Someone who will love me for who I am, no matter who I am. Who will one day give me away when I walk up the aisle in my wedding dress.”

He gasped suddenly as he pictured me in my wedding gown, a wonderful guy on my arm and proud family gathered round.

“I know it’s hard to imagine when I was your little boy just a few months ago. It’s harder for me even, since I hadn’t perceived that I was even destined to have this happen to me. Everything is different now, my friends, my future, my school, the only constants are my family. And most constant of all my mum and dad who shine out like a beacon with trust and love for me to follow.”

My eyes were glistening, I was trying to convey my love and my understanding of how they were treating me. So well that I had no compunction to hide or sidle away from anything I felt or thought. My complete trust and faith. Mum had been listening at the patio door as I spoke and came over and stood behind me and put her hands on my shoulders and kissed the top of my head.

“That’s a wonderful thing to say darling. I have to admit that we don’t tell each other of our love anywhere near often enough. I’d like to say that I love you both I’m very happy to have had the chance to know someone as lovely as you both are and proud to call you my daughter and my husband.” She gripped my shoulders again then let go, “Now come inside before the sand flies carry you off, and you have your sailing school tomorrow so get your gear ready — you can pay with your credit card.”

I went inside, mum dallied with dad outside and I could hear giggling and smooching so I left them to it…

I knew it, I just knew it — the weather was awful — blowy and cold. I rugged up in jeans and a windcheater over a woolly sweater. A pair of old trainers would suffice for this school so I wasn’t worried when I left the house. Wendy was at the bus stop and the bus arrived almost as I did — what impeccable timing. The guys were already on the same bus, so we felt obliged to sit with them — they grinned like grinning things when they saw us — words escaped me to see such a happy pair.

“Morning, nice weather for ducks eh?”

“Quack.”

“Morning Ducky.”

Oh the hilarity… I hate wet weather… I felt all steamed up already.

We got to the ing and the door was open so we walked in — the room was like a double garage lined with whiteboards with charts and zigzags and arrows all over the place in chinagraph pencil, there were 9 people there and one guy who looked like he was in charge (because he was wearing waterproof trousers and wellies.) He wasn’t in charge just a messenger, “The instructor will be a few minutes late — introduce yourselves and pass the indemnity forms to me if you would.” He held out his hand and had the forms in a few seconds — everyone was so clued in — it’s funny that a voluntary course will improve effective communication a hundredfold.

There were a few chairs scattered about and I pulled off my windcheater and draped it over a chair and turned the chair in towards where the others were — the class seemed to hold no one over the age of about 18 and two young guys looked about 14. Two more entered the room as we began to get organised — “anyone know how many there will be?” a question from one of the unknowns.

I volunteered, “the slimy guy in the shop didn’t even take names so I doubt anyone will know until we start.” As I spoke the instructor walked in, “the guy in the shop’s name is Arthur, my name is Al, I’m going to try to teach you how not to drown in a small boat and possibly how to sail it to a place where you intend with the minimum loss or damage. ‘Ah someone with a bit of wit.’ Crossed my mind.

“The boats you will be sailing,” he furthered, “will be the ubiquitous Mirror Dinghy, the only thing The Mirror tabloid ever got right. It’s easy to sail and easy to capsize and just as easy to uncapsize so you’re all in luck because you’ll be doing a lot of that.” He looked from one to the other and when he didn’t see anyone who looked scared, he moved on. “take a seat and point it generally in the direction of that wall — if you actually want to be able to see what we’re doing — he pointed at a wall with a large chart of our little bay. And an expanse of clean whiteboard.

I ended up sitting between Tony and David with Wendy next to David on the other side. We went round the class and introduced ourselves — I felt very self-conscious, but then I think most people do.

“Hi I’m Jenny I go to the Girls High school. I’m in year 11 this autumn.”

Sam the oldest student there at 18 was a bit thick it seemed but I found out later he was painfully shy and his mother had put him on the course to give him an outlet to make him less awkward. He was nice looking and due to go to Uni in three months to read medicine. The rest were all grouped around our age and seemed regular sorts.

That morning we needn’t have worried about getting soaked Al didn’t want us out in the boats in an offshore wind — not first time out anyway. The Mirror Dinghy didn’t ‘point’ too well and getting back if we could, would have been a major task. He had us tie some knots and learn the specifics of the little bathtub we were due to navigate. It seemed more like a cockleshell or a coracle with a sail than a boat, but they were unsinkable and due for praise as the most easy to use boat in existence.They only had one sail and a self supporting mast(no rigging) for a start.

We broke for a cuppa at ten thirty and there was a plate of biscuits. I suddenly found myself isolated from the group by my erstwhile boyfriend. I wondered if that was intentional or was it just one of those things. I truly hoped he wasn’t a jealous/possessive sort.

“Enjoying it so far?” Ok so he wasn’t the world ‘s most enlightened interviewer.

“Yeah the bit about the rabbit hole and the rabbit running round the tree was fun,” oh dear, I have my sarcastic hat on.

David looked at me for a hint of whether I was serious. I looked back at him. Suddenly he said, “What’s your surname?” He looked down at my folder — “Holland,

I knew it, I know your brother, is he your twin? I didn’t know he had a sister, he’s in my class, I’ve known him for, he doesn’t have a sister, I’ve been to his house for a birthday party.” He looked at my boobs suddenly wondering if they were real I guessed.

My mind was hijacked by a surge of adrenalin, I looked at him — Inside I felt absolute horror. Outside I hadn’t moved — not a muscle. “My cousin Jerry you mean?” I floundered. He was still checking out my chest. “Up here for facial communication David” His eyes moved up to my face.

“I’m so sorry, I had this sudden feeling that you were Jerry dressed up in drag… how daft can I get. You’re nothing like Jerry really just superficial — it was just that expression, I’ve seen it on Jerry so often.”

He looked me up and down and said, “you’re taller than Jerry too,” at that point he saw my sneakers. They were the same make as his, for good reason, he’d seen mine and asked me where I got them. He looked at my face again. “What?” I thought wildly why he was looking at me like a dog looks at a bone. “Those are Jerry’s sneakers.”

“You’re right, they are, so what?” I’m starting to sweat here, Wendy comes over just at that moment. “Hi guys what’s happnin?”

“David was just saying that he recognised Jerry’s sneakers cause he has some the same” — (he was wearing them, I had looked) “He actually recognised me from my resemblance to Jerry, isn’t that amazing?” My God I should lie for England at the Olympics.

“ I wonder why Jerry didn’t take them with him when he went to Scotland?” Wendy threw me a lifeline.

“He said his mum had bought him a new pair and he didn’t have room in his pack.”

I watched David relax out of the corner of my eye. My relief was at least tenfold of his! I realised I needed to watch every word now — when we went back to the chairs I sat next to Wendy and defused David’s intentions of having me as a crew mate. I needed some space for a while. David, I guessed, hadn’t fully let go of the idea of me being Jerry and I could feel his eyes on me most of the afternoon.

“Right class, see you on Wednesday,” I looked at the timetable not realising til then that Tuesday wasn’t on the schedule, it was the Day the Lifeboat went out and Al was a lifeboatman. We walked out into weak sunshine and a steaming road. The weather was much better and the wind had dropped — by Wednesday it would be ideal. Would I survive that long.

David came over, “Hey look--, in there,” he pointed at the sailing club over his shoulder with his thumb, “I didn’t mean anything by it, I just had a horrible thought, that you … well you know.”

“Yeah and I had a horrible thought too, that I might have made the mistake of liking you, except that you think I’m masculine enough to be a guy. That’s horrid.” I looked like I was about to cry — I was about to cry.

He made to put his hand on my shoulder, I stepped back and made my shoulder the farthest point from his hand… “No way, Jose. Not after that.”

I was not going to let him any closer EVER. Closed door. He looked dejected and turned away.

That night I cried, I cried for myself. That I was living in the shadow of Jerry and I knew it was going to take a while before my life became mine — if ever.

I had told mum when I got home what had happened, she commiserated and told me that life wasn’t meant to be easy and that there were so many boys out there “that if you weren’t careful you’ll run into another one any day now.”

Wisdom comes in some weird phrases. Fish in the sea and pebbles on the beach. She told dad, he came to me later and said if “anyone so much as looks sideways at you” he’d kick them and their dad into the next world. What a bully he is… I gave him a big hug and told him David still didn’t know and he never would.

We went to the sailing club on the Wednesday and guess what? David and Tony weren’t there. I relaxed and we went sailing. It wasn’t easy and we had a lot of laughs — I hadn’t realised, but most of the bay was so shallow that you could stand up in it most of the time. Wendy crewed with me and we learned to sail out little boat.

We got soaked every day for the week. I had to throw those sneakers out by Friday because they were rotten. On the Saturday we had to race to get the trophy for best students of the course.

The wind was really tricky and the triangular course had one leg that was directly up water and up wind — it was due to be a long tack. Sam and Susan who had hit it off on the course were in the lead and were followed by our intrepid band of sailors (David and Tony had given it away, they didn’t come back or complete the course) with Wendy and me in the tail as we’d been caught up on the bottom on the start and the centreboard was jammed we had to get out and push (literally).

When the first corner marker came up, they were all in bunch and when they tacked, they all spilled the wind at the same time and all but one capsized. By the time they had got going again and emptied their boats (bailing buckets were supplied !) we had passed them and were lying second to the two youngest in the course Brian and Bill, two 14 year old boys who I think were an item — which shocked me a bit. They had the weirdest way of smiling at each other … anyhow back to the race.

We reached the second marker and turned into the wind it send us straight backwards so we jibed off and tacked well out to the land side where the tide was running a bit the other way. Once we reckoned we’d made enough water we tacked back and realised we’d tacked too soon and would miss the third marker before our sprint home.

We looked for the opposition and they were right behind us but hadn’t tacked yet so they had more water than us — they would make it — we tacked away again — and as we dived under the sail, Wendy cracked her scone and went straight back over the side — she came up standing about 20 feet behind the boat spluttering and coughing, but ok. I whipped the boat round and slipped straight back for her but by the time we were under way again, we were third!!

We tacked down further to the coast and went way past where the others had tacked in the vain hope that they’d tacked too early — suddenly we found that the current was going our way and we were going a lot faster and the sail wasn’t straining as before — we tacked over and we sprang at the wind — making a heading way past the third marker and about a knot faster than the opposition, we could feel the raw energy of the 100 square foot of sail (maybe the keel board was dragging in the sand?).

We were leaning forward as if to encourage the boat along when we realised Sam‘s boat had stopped completely and the boat of the youngsters had flipped. The youngsters were frantically trying to upright their dinghy as Sam was trying (like we had to at the beginning) to release the keel board so that they could move — they did, but as soon as the keel board came up they went sideways losing their sea advantage.

We were going to win! Tthe other boats were behind us as they’d followed us out to the good current we were about 3 minutes ahead of the next boat over the line which was Courtney and Gill — two girls our age. We high-fived them ‘Girls reign supreme’.

Bridget, Susan’s sister had sailed with Al as crew and Al was playing dumb so as not to take the advantage — they came in last, laughing and carrying on — Al gave her a big hug, I suspected he crewed with her for a different agenda. I think I was justified in thinking so when she kissed him back in the clubhouse. Susan cheered her sister until Sam kissed her as well. Well at least some people got a romance out of their summer cruise.

We went home with the trophy which was about the size of the ashes cup! Carol and I promised to share it one month each — we broke up when we realised how pathetic that was. Life was good again. Dad was so proud, he asked if I thought I would like to do more sailing — I said not in a Mirror Dinghy!

I was scheduled to see Julie after the weekend and get another blood test, so I didn’t plan in too much. Mum said I should get the doctor to check my surgery site as well.

For some reason, I had not really been aware of how my body was progressing — I had no idea why I had taken that tack (I’m allowed to use these terms now, I’m a qualified sailor!) but it was on the Monday the day before my Julie visit that I stood before the mirror. I stood there naked — fresh out of the shower — I hadn’t tucked the end of the towel in over my breasts properly and it fell to the floor as I passed the mirror, I just absorbed what I looked like. I was a bit shocked.

“Mum! Can you come upstairs a minute?” It was called without alarm, I was only shocked as an intellectual observer might be.

“What’s up petal?” She sounded only a little concerned.

She saw me sat on the bed half turned away from her (not intentional just the bed was at that angle to the door)

I turned my head and smiled, I didn’t want her to freak, I saw her face relax just a weany bit.

I got up and turned my body towards her so that she could get a better view of the whole of me. She looked me up and down as she walked over.

“Well I never, I guess the treatment is working eh?” she didn’t look phased, and I could see she was pleased, “you’ll be ready as anything by the time school comes round.”

I smiled and nodded my head, “my thoughts too, I’m going to have a chat to the doctor and see if he can do anything about John Thomas — I really would like to be more physically correct if it’s at all possible before my 18th birthday!”

“I don’t see any harm in that, after all, you’re classified as a female — you should be able to get the operation when you’re ready. Talk to Julie tomorrow as well.”

It was odd looking in the mirror — I didn’t know what a live woman looked like down there, but I could see that except for the small penis, my pubis was like those pictures I’d seen in magazines and even, if the truth be told, in swimming costumes — it was only the presence of the small tag of skin that told me that everything was not perfect.

My hips had spread enough to give me a flat tummy and the lack of hair above my small triangle gave me a soft expanse of smooth skin.

My waist was distinctly narrow and I had a nice curve over the hip. It appeared that the fat cushion on my hip was established too! My torso tapered up from the bottom of my ribs to a nice pair of firm breasts. Not big, but I’m only 15. I gained confidence as I looked, I wasn’t the best looking girl in the world but I was nice enough and I know I looked better as a girl than I looked as a guy! To be honest, I don’t think I could be mistaken for a guy, even though I could see him in there somewhere.

Mum came back to the bedroom and looked at the latch on the door. “I think it’s time you had a lock on this door as well — I don’t want Pop wandering in and having a heart attack. He still forgets sometimes you know. And I wouldn’t put it past Nigel to inadvertently open the door. You need your privacy at times — it means a lot when you’re your age.”

“I haven’t seen Nigel for two weeks we don’t go to the same places — he’s going to get a shock isn’t he?” I grinned looking in the mirror.

“I think we should have a family meal and make sure he attends”

“I have a camera here, put on your bikini I want to take a historical shot, Julie mentioned it the last visit and you forgot to remind me. “

“Yeah sorry. I have to take a shot of me from Easter to show her too.” I grimaced — I was so taken up with me, that I forget everything!

“Well there’s a one hour shop in the village and this film is nearly finished, perhaps we can get your hair done while they’re developing it and then go see Julie.” Mum ruffled my hair and felt the condition. “You look after it nicely.” She smiled in a motherly way and hugged me to her. I was the same height nearly, I hugged her back not worrying that I was still naked.

The door opened downstairs and mum pushed the bedroom door shut, “put some clothes on petal, well, your bikini until I get the pictures.”

She used up the film with me posing on the bed and standing by the mirror to get front and back views. In a few minutes it was over and I got dressed and we went down to meet dad who had poured us all a drink - me included. I was wearing a shortish flared skirt with a soft short sleeved knit top. The skirt flared wonderfully over my hips and the top showed off my burgeoning breasts. I felt every inch a woman.

Dad watched me walk down the stairs behind mum and whistled softly — “you’re turning into a head turner, you look a lot like your mum at 18 — and she was voted the best looking girl in the Upper 6th. Which is the reason I married her — pure and simple — eye candy. Trophy wife, kiss me” He ordered and she obeyed..

“I know you guys get up to stuff, but it’s not good for your kids to see it.” Mum poked her tongue at me and dad cocked a snook. “Then don’t look,” was the rejoinder.

I looked into the garden instead.

“What’s the wine for sweetie?” mum asked after the smoochies were over.

“Nothing much, just a pay rise at work. Goes with the promotion” Mum looked at him, her eyes flashing, “you got the manager’s job? Oh that’s wonderful” she almost jumped up and down.

“Look darling there’s a problem attached to it though, we may have to move next year since the office is amalgamating with the city — they’ve offered me manager of a city office if we have to move after Christmas.” Dad’s face was worried, he didn’t want mum to have to move, she was happy to be here and she loved her life on the coast. You mean the Liverpool office? Or the Manchester one?”

“This is where it gets complicated, I said A city. I’m not sure yet, there’s talk of me being sent to open a new office in Brisbane…” he hung his head, “I have to take you guys with us and because we’re opening a new factory complete, I get to be head honcho, Australian Division.”

Mum looked a bit angry, “You’ve already accepted haven’t you?” Dad looked at mum and wanted to say nothing — he bit his lip. “Provisionally yes”

“Let me get this right, it looks like we get moved half way round the world so you get to do your job, what guarantees do you get that you won’t be dumped once it’s up and running and we have to come back to UK to find another job for both of us.” Mum’s eyes flashed with suppressed tears. “Oh John, why couldn’t you have discussed this with me, with us? We’re part of this decision too you know.”

There was a sort of turgid silence, while everyone looked into their minds about the future and what it could mean.

Dad looked at me, “how do you feel about it Jenny?” he looked at me as if pleading for support.

“I don’t know, I guess it means I’ll be able to start my life again without anyone knowing me, but what if someone gets to know over there, the men over there are a bit renowned for being very Macho aren’t they?” I played the ball neatly back into Dad’s court.

Mum had sat down nursing her glass of wine. She looked decidedly neutral — and very small, like someone had deflated her. A key entering the front door heralded the return of Nigel and we all looked up at him guiltily as he entered the room.

“Jesus, did someone die?” the question nearly dieing on his lips as he spoke.

“Come in and sit for a minute Nigel, we’re discussing our future and it’s important for you as well.”

“What are you talking about, is someone ill?” Nigel looked from one face to another as if he could read the news from our expressions.

“Your father has just proudly announced that we’re going to move to Australia next Spring. I think he meant to mention it at Christmas lunch, but the news escaped 6 months early.” Mum’s pithy comments earned her an exasperated look from dad.

“Actually its only on the drawing board and I’ve been offered the position and I expressed keen interest, nothing is cut and dried. I told Philip that I would discuss it with my family as it was not something I could make a decision on alone. I haven’t had a chance to explain the circumstances yet, everyone is jumping to conclusions.”

Dad looked over at mum as if to say ‘there, I did the right thing’.

Mum looked contrite, “Sorry Pet, I thought you’d dropped us in it without our knowing anything about it. It was just so sudden. When do you have to let Philip know by?” Mum retracked the conversation to the last point of order and hoped the blow up would blow over.

“Friday would be good — end of next week would be pushing it, there’s not much to discuss really, everything is being paid for and I have a contract that is pretty ironclad for 7 years and a buyout clause if I want to move on or if they want me to move on.”

Dad reached for the briefcase sitting on the table and retrieved a folder from it — it was an inch thick and bound in a snazzy cover. Placing it on the table, he placed his hand on it, “You’re all welcome to look and read, but not allowed to talk about it outside this house, is that clear? There’s a few people who are going to be disappointed by being left out and they’ll not be best pleased to get the news second hand.” An obvious warning which made us all realise this was a big fish dad had caught.

He opened the file and removed the front page — “Um that’s my offer, only Mum and I get to read that,” he handed it to mum and her eyes tracked down the page, going saucer shaped (and nearly saucer sized) once or twice. Looking up at John she spoke softly, “so much money, they must think the world of you.” Dad looked suitably embarrassed.

“Well it’s a good pay rise, that’s why I thought you’d be pleased, instead I got the third degree.” Mum looked suitably embarrassed.

Nigel to this point had been leaning against the door jamb. He didn’t seem very interested and his eyes had settled on me. He didn’t look derisive and he spoke absently about going to university. “Where am I going to be in all this, I need to book my university place and stuff. My A level results come out next week and I want to get an English Degree not some colonial college degree that isn’t worth diddly squat.”

“You can stay here if you want, it’s up to you, but you’ll have to let us know by next week if you intend to stay as we’ll need to set you up at Gran’s place. IF and that’s a BIG IF, they will put up with you. You’re still not what I would call responsible.” Dad’s tough remarks slid over Nigel like he hadn’t heard. As long as he’s going to get fed, he’s probably not going to worry one way or the other.

“You’re looking good Jenny, nice bum,” Nigel levered himself off the door jamb and started to turn away.

“Would you recognise me if you saw me again?” I sounded a bit shrill, but I was slightly annoyed that I hadn’t seen him look me in the eye once. He turned laconically back and looked me in the eye. His face was a picture. I’ve always poo pooed the idea of a jaw dropping, but it almost had. His eyelids had definitely lifted a few millimetres to let in a little more light. “My God, you really look quite nice.” Praise indeed from his majesty.

He walked over towards me and really looked at me — “You are a girl aren’t you? I know I said I accepted you before and I didn’t recognise you in the pool, but it didn’t sink in properly. I am totally flummoxed in what to say. I can’t say you’re a babe, you’re my sister, but that’s it isn’t it? You ARE my sister.” He smiled then a rare smile of brotherly love and appreciation of part of his family. Putting his arm round my shoulder he spoke quietly. “Seeing as you are my sister, I offer you my arm in love and if someone hurts you, they’ll answer to me, is that acceptable?”

I blushed crimson and since he was so close — as close as he’d ever been to me in his entire life, I kissed his cheek and smiled at him as he grimaced, “yes Nigel that is very acceptable.”

I sat and contemplated that remarkable occurrence as Nigel retired to his room to change.

Dad mumbled something about “perhaps he is growing up after all”.

“Kids, supper’s on the table,” I hadn’t noticed — but the smell of BBQed steak had been entering my nose for a minute or two, I grabbed what was left of my wine and walked through to the kitchen.

I woke the next morning a little thick headed as we had opened more wine last night and I’d had at least another glass. I hoped it wouldn’t affect the blood test. The upshot had been that in consideration of the enormous benefit to Dad’s position and the fact we had few ties in UK ( my dad’s mum and dad were no longer with us and Mum’s parents spent most of the time travelling so weren’t home much) unless we could find real nasties to deter us, we were destined to become Boomerang Throwers and Wobble Board players.

There were no real cousins (even though David the sailor boy was convinced otherwise) and with Dad working so hard he hadn’t much of a social life — no we could find little to tie us to dear old Blighty.

This brought up a dilemma for me. If I could get my surgery over with by the New Year, I would be able to go to Australia as a fully fledged female. The impending move had put my transition, such as it was, into high gear.

That morning was a kind of blur of high speed decisions and consultations as the doctor wanted to give me the once over and the counsellor needed to assess me for my surgery letters if I was to get onto a schedule for surgery in the near future.

There were only a few doctors available in Europe that could do a decent job and I had been given the address of one in Holland and one in Belgium, the ones in UK were pretty much booked up and needed 3 years to get up to speed with each patient.

Julie had done her research well — I also needed a psychiatrist to give me a second opinion — which sounded really daft as I had a genetic disease that made me like this — but since I had the choice of living as a man or a woman, I had to see a psych to make sure that the decision I made was the right one as far as they were concerned.

We dropped the film off at the Kodak shop and went to see if the local salon could fit me in for a quick cut wash and blow dry. They could, I did and since it wasn’t my mum’s regular salon they didn’t even ask how she ended up with a daughter. I had taken a picture of Karen Carpenter in with me and they cut it to match as far as they could — the girl who cut it was really sweet.

“You could be her sister, can you sing as well?”

“Er no actually — I can barely rough out ‘happy birthday’ on a good day, but thanks for asking.”

“You should try — you might be a natural and you could sing a duet with her for a laugh”. She giggled a bit and I wondered if all hairdressers were partially suffocated and addled by the chemicals in the shop.

Karaoke hadn’t hit the scene but if it had, I would be penalised for being a professional I guess. But she did make me feel good and the cut was remarkably accurate so she knew what she was doing.

I felt great while she was massaging the conditioner into my head, I could see why so many women liked the pampering. The smell in the salon was awful, like the bottom of my gran’s handbag, when I asked mum if they all smelled like that, she told me that most of them do since they use the same chemicals but some are better ventilated.

One thing that really put me off was the smell of perm solution. I saw one of the stylists slopping solution onto this lady’s hair that was in rollers the smell hit me, “What is that smell?”

Mum who was reading a magazine that was only three weeks old (I suppose the doctor’s surgery get them only when they reached two years old) said with a grin, “weak hair remover, it softens the hair enough to take a curl and they wash it out just before the hair falls out.” She shook her head. “Which is why I will never have curly hair — I hate the idea.” Mum’s hair was akin to a cross between a coconut and a pageboy and about shoulder length. Mine was wavy naturally like Dad’s mum. We shot out the door eventually, gasping. I felt like a Morlock released into the day from the dark caves. Though I guess I looked a little more attractive.

Oddly the effect seemed to be that I had gained more confidence — though my confidence hadn’t really been an issue up to now anyway. I know I was heading for the most testing interview of my new life, but I seemed to ride the situation like a free fall parachutist, I came down quite quickly (no pun intended) as I realised the earth was now shooting up to meet me.

We looked through the photos as we sat waiting in Julie’s anteroom. There was no one picture that showed who I was so few weeks ago.

“The doctor will see you now,” made us both look up from the squares of colour, I turned to mum and smiled a little awkwardly — she looked at me and drew a smile on, though I could see she was as nervous as I. She patted my hand as we rose as if to give comfort — I’m not sure to whom.

Julie’s bright smile of welcome as we entered calmed my fears slightly — I had no reason to fear anything but bridges seemed to be burnt every time I entered this office and each bridge was bigger and more complex than the last.

“How lovely to see you both again, Beth, Jenny. Please take a pew and let’s see what we can sort through today.”

Mum opened her bag and took out the photos she had just put there and passed them across to Julie then sat next to me placing her bag across her knees and placing her hands over the top like some prim old maid. The tension in her body showed just in those few actions; she would have put the bag on the floor and sat with her hands in her lap if she’d been calm.

Julie opened the envelope and took out the photos — leafing through them one by one — spending a few seconds on each. Her smile showed her approval and in some cases the smile became a grin. When she looked up her eyes were twinkling in pleasure.

“These are wonderful, they are almost candid and show a very relaxed young lady with an admirable sense of self. I’m not looking at the poses, but the attitude of the body language and the facial expression. Not only that, your physical progress is remarkable. How do you feel about that?”

“I feel less vulnerable to hate crime, but I feel less capable of warding off anyone who might commit one.” It was a conundrum I was actually quite aware of, being less noticeable as a transitioner was great but the closer I became to being fully female, the weaker I would become and it would be more easy to hurt me.

“Swings and roundabouts I’m afraid Jenny, there is no way of being both male and female and not be left with a foot in both camps.” Julie stated the obvious and made a note in my folder.

Mum piped up, “Julie I have what may be good and may be bad news and may even affect the next few months,” Julie looked up quizzically. “John has been posted overseas… Australia. I think we need to discuss what we can do before we go over there — I’d like Jenny to be in a better position to integrate back into the school routine without anyone knowing about her past…” mum looked up suddenly from her dazed rambling to see Julie smiling at me and watching my expression change as mum went through her mentally prepared speech.

Julie sat back and closed the folder in front of her, “are you having a problem accepting that Jenny is already more than able to integrate into a co-ed school as a female?” Her expression was bland and friendly, but concerned; as it was evident that she was worried about mum’s ability to cope with the stresses that were now coming to bear on the family.

“No it’s not that, I’m worried about her ability to pass naked. And the fact that we may be in Australia as immigrants and I’d really love it if Jenny had her op before she went,” mum was trying to get it all out before she drew a breath — more worried about the ability for Julie to deny her daughter natural justice.

“Beth, please, stop worrying.” Julie would have put her hand out to comfort mum if she’d been close enough — as it was, she just smiled and put her hand out in mum’s direction flat on the desk — it seemed to have the same effect. Mum took a deep breath and placed her handbag on the floor beside her — barricade removed.

“How do you feel about this?” Julie looked at me poker faced — she didn’t want to give me one inkling of how she felt about it herself.

“I feel that the question is not if, but how soon? There’s no doubt that it’s GOT to happen before I go, and the sooner the better, I’m just hoping that I have the mental stamina to keep going long enough to complete the course — We’re really not in that much of a hurry, but I need to have the op sooner than the end of the year, or at least not long after since I will probably be starting school in Australia in their winter term.”

I looked at Julie as I spoke — her face neither egging me on or becoming negative. When I finished, she picked up her pen and twiddled it in her finger briefly as she thought about her response. For some reason my eye was drawn to the pen and not her face — when I looked back to her she was smiling.

“Well it’s not a problem from my point of view, nothing you have said to me gives me the slightest doubt that you are ready to have vaginoplasty. My biggest problem is the surgeon — since there is very little in the way of options — there just aren’t many surgeons doing the op in UK.” She watched my face for a moment and looked at mum. Mine had fallen, fallen as far as I thought it could. I was suddenly despondent

“Beth, you have to understand that while I can give permission, there have to be others in the circle that also have their agendas.” She looked apologetic. Mum looked ecstatic. I just looked more worried.

Mum picked up her bag again and reached for a letter she had placed there earlier.

“Thank you so much Julie, I wasn’t going to mention this to Jenny until you had given your consent, so I feel that now is a good time to show this to both of you.” She passed the letter over to me first. I opened it looking at the Swiss postmark with curiosity — then as I read it dawned on me what had happened — Dad had already written to the surgeon in Zurich. My eyes opened wider and wider as I read. Then the writing blurred as the tears flooded my eyes The first of my sobs stopped me altogether and mum put her arm round me and gently retrieved the letter and hugged me — passing the letter to Julie.

I recovered in a minute or two and Julie had already replaced the letter in the envelope and popped it into the folder. “I’ll write to the surgeon this afternoon and with Jenny’s case notes, pass the letter on to the doctor for his endorsement — I can see no problem with the 20th December as a date for surgery — I shall need to see Jenny once a month till then, to check she’s coping. It also gives us time to iron out any doubts or problems. Excellent — I’m so glad this was possible Beth, it is sometimes so hard to see the young ones thrown up on the rocks of a system that doesn’t seem to care.”

I was still coming to terms with the fact that Julie was ok with my having the op and here I was already with a date for it. I rose dazed and when Julie came round the desk to shake my hand I just stepped forward and gave her a huge hug. “Thanks Julie, you’re fantastic, I don’t have any doubts and I think you know that.”

Julie put her arms round me and returned my hug, “I know you have no doubts about who you are dear, but things do crop up and you may find one or two roadblocks further down the path.”

I was back in the car before I came round, mum had just sat and waited for me to recover my wits before she drove. “I hope I didn’t shock you too much, it was all a bit sudden. When dad had been offered the position in Australia he immediately wrote to Zurich where we had found a surgeon who has done some highly recommended work — and asked him for a date — which fell in rather well, I think, with the timing — you get to go to Zurich as if you’re on a ski holiday and then you can limp a bit back in school and say you fell over in the snow.” She laughed a mite nervously at that — thinking of the operation.

My eyes were glistening once again, but only in joy. I couldn’t really work out the source of the feelings in my head, but I felt so real and so at peace, like a fluorescent light starter that had been buzzing in my head had suddenly been fixed. Total silence. It was deafening.

“Put your seat belt on petal, lets get home,” mum started the car and backed out of the parking bay. “We’ll go see the doctor in a couple of days when he has the letter from Julie.”

That night I spent in a daze, I gave dad the hugest hugs every time he passed me — he had made me so unbelievably joyous. Happy didn’t come near it, it was like I’d won the Lotto. He explained that he’d sat down with a notepad and written down all the things that needed to be done before we moved — and then prioritised them — and number one came out to be family — and at the top of the list was my op. He’d not told his boss about me but he’d said it was important that his family had to come first in such a big move. The boss agreed, so the first thing he’d done was to write to Zurich.

I sat back and enjoyed the silence in my head for several days, even the doctors visit was a bit of a blur.

I got the usual physical — plus a very uncomfortable prostate exam. I was declared sterile at that point — I should hope so — I had been without my bits for some time! He declared me healthy for surgery but would like me to attend about the same intervals as Julie’s appointments. He advised me that I should avoid Gym when I returned to school if I had to use communal showers as my penis was still evident, too evident for the girl’s change room anyway! He signed me a chit to the effect that I have a heart condition and should be excused exercise that might excite me too much. It was a white lie I suppose, and unlikely to do me harm over a single term at school. I was probably not ever going to be much of an athlete so I wasn’t terribly upset and the thought of trying to play field hockey with a load of girls was a bit daunting — I really need to do some learning about group female psyche before I start playing team sports.

He also took some snaps of my present “setup”, both standing and lying down with my legs spread for the surgeon in Zurich to have a look at. He frowned a lot, but was generally quite good about the whole thing — since it was obviously not a sex change so much as a correction.
 

*          *          *
 
End of Part 3
 
 
To Be Continued...

The Way Things Happen

---

The changeover to girls’ school was drawing ever closer and I felt my nervousness increase almost daily, even though Wendy was with me almost on a daily basis once she got over her holiday with her family in Marbella — she ended up with Spanish Tummy or something and was looking very pasty when she first got home. Carol also joined in and we set about doing some shopping for autumn clothes that had hit the shops. I didn’t buy a lot since I had no idea what it would be like in my new country.

I told them about moving to Brisbane and we went to Wendy’s house and she dug out a huge atlas with loads of information about the weather and geography — the clothes I had just bought were only going to last one season — the winter weather in Brisbane was equivalent to late spring in UK and it was a dry winter (monsoon) so I would never wear a raincoat as heavy as the one I had just bought for UK.

“Never mind kiddo, I’ll have it,” Carol volunteered with a big smile. Well I’d wear it til I left, that was for sure.

I didn’t tell them yet about my operation date — they seldom mentioned my ex-boy status so I left it in the air — no one else seemed to bring up the matter so no one had leaked any secrets — it made me feel a lot of trust for my two friends.

We occasionally joined up into a bigger group and went and hung out in the ‘Grounds’ but I hung back from relationships with the boys, though I did watch the way they interacted and put the information away for future use.

One day towards the end of the holidays I was hanging out at the pool with Wendy. She was rubbing oil on my back and had undone my bikini top to make sure she covered the area properly and I was holding it onto my front for modesty.

A shout of “look out!” made me look up just in time to see a basketball heading towards my head — I instinctively put my hands up to shield myself and my top fell onto my legs revealing ‘all’ to everyone who was watching the ball hit my head.

I put my hands back onto my breasts realising that I had flashed the world — I went lobster red and closed my eyes — Wendy draped the towel over me — while I recovered my dignity. I started to shudder as tears came to my eyes. I looked over at the guys who had now retrieved their ball — they looked like they’d been caught shoplifting.

One came over, “I’m SO sorry — it was my fault. I threw it too hard and it was way off target.”

I looked up at him, he looked so contrite — “It’s ok — it was just a bit embarrassing, I’m not in the habit of baring all to the world.”

“Can I buy you a Coke to make up for it?” he pleaded, tying to make me look at him. I nodded and smiled shyly.
“Why you flirt,” Wendy whispered in my ear, “he’s gorgeous.”

I hadn’t noticed — I was too shaken to even take in how old he was.

I didn’t have to wait long to find out, he returned with a Coke and a straw. And a big smile. I shaded my eyes and looked up at him — he was quite dishy and had a sort of happy smile on his face…. Suddenly it occurred to me that he’d done this on purpose. I looked across to find his mates who were all fooling about at the edge of the pool near us. They were looking across rather too often for it to be an ‘accident’, I accepted the Coke gracefully.

“My name is Mark by the way,” he said as an opener.

I smiled at him and said “well you’d better be off then Mark, your friends are waiting”

He looked quite downtrodden and left to rejoin his mates. He looked back and smiled and waved at me as he reached the edge of the pool. I pulled a faint smile and turned away.

“What on Earth was all that about?” gasped Wendy, “I thought you were well in there and he was really dishy looking.” Her look of amazement told me more than one thing.

“I realised that he threw the ball on purpose which actually amounts to sexual harassment. Not only that, he was arrogant enough to think I was his for the taking, neither of which endeared me to him in the least. I can see he’s nice looking and for all I know he may be really nice as well, but I think if a guy is going to go to those lengths to break the ice, he’s too much of a schemer.”

Wendy sat there with her mouth opened a little way and her brows raised as if to say, “well you sure picked up the traces ok”.

“I know you’re right Jen, but I didn’t realise you had such principles.”

“I mean to start as I intend to carry on. I didn’t reckon I was going to be this girl at all a few months ago — now that I am and I find I’m ‘acceptable’ as far as dating material goes, I’m not going to waste it by being an easy target”

“Aw Jen, you’re being awful hard on the guy, I don’t expect he really meant you to ‘bare all’ just hit you with the ball.” Wendy seemed to be taking the side of Mark and Jenny was surprised to realise that maybe she’d been too harsh.

She took another slug of the Coke and passed it to Wendy, “Well to be honest, I’m scared of getting into a relationship at this stage and guys still frighten me a lot.” She frowned and then smiled. “I expect my reputation didn’t take much of a knock, he’ll be dreaming about my boobs for the rest of the week.” They both started giggling and soon forgot the incident.

As they were leaving the pool area later the boys that had done the dastardly deed had by chance exited behind the girls and were teasing Mark. “Some smoothy you turned out to be, couldn’t even get off with a bird, not only after a fantastic setup but also after buying her a Coke — what a sucker.”

The girls heard it and looked back at them. Mark was suitably rosy cheeked, but it looked like it may have been the afternoon in the sun as they were all a bit pink — teach them not to use sunscreen. The girls giggled and picked up the pace a bit to out distance them. They got on the bus just as it arrived and went upstairs — Mark and one of his mates got on downstairs — unbeknownst to the girls.

When the bus arrived at the stop nearest Wendy’s house the girls were climbing down the stairs when they realised that the two boys were also waiting to get off. With no other options they descended and waited behind the boys. Jenny watched the boys tense up and eyeball each other.

Jenny restarted the conversation — Wendy started and gaped at Jen. “I didn’t know you lived round here, I’ve never seen you before.”
Mark turned as the bus ground to a halt with a squeal, “I don’t actually, I’m visiting for a couple of days,” the door swooshed open and the boys stepped down and waited for the girls to alight. Mark continued, “I’m staying in Radnor Drive, where do you live?” Wendy replied, “just down here, number 17 Hill St” without any hesitation. Jenny gaped this time, “and Jenny lives round the corner in Pope St.” Wendy added letting Jenny see that she’d done it on purpose.

The girls set off and the boys suddenly matched them stride for stride, “We’ll see you home if that’s ok? Oh by the way I’m Steve.” Mark’s friend chimed in offering his hand, “I’m Mark’s cousin, we’re all staying at our auntie’s. We got out of the way this arvo as it’s crowded with three families together.”

Wendy whispered to Jenny, “that’s only two doors down from Carol’s place — she never mentioned these guys.” Jenny raised her brow without answering. They stopped outside Wendy’s and the girls put the gate between them and the guys and turned to go inside.

“Any chance of getting a phone number?” Steve piped up hopefully.

“Not today, maybe not ever,” Wendy replied with a flick of her hair as they walked up the path. The boys turned away perplexed.

“What did we do wrong?”

“Buggered if I know, but we’ll see them again if they’re round here — we’re here for a week. Nice tits on the brunette — I’ve not seen too many in daylight — but those are something.” He smiled emphasising the ‘something’ Steve grinned back at Mark — “Jeez that was a nice shot with the basketball, I didn’t expect her to drop her bikini!”

Mark guffawed and cracked his mate on the arm, “I’m going to get me a feel of those before I go home”.

The girls closed the door and Jenny leaned her back against it and burst out laughing, “You are something else, you big flirt. Fancy, telling them your address, and then letting them walk us home.”

“They’d have found out anyway. Hey, let’s ring Carol and see if she knows them.”

They rushed over to the phone and within seconds the phone was ringing — “Hello?” “CAROL, guy alert, guy alert — there’s two boys staying at number 17 have you seen them?

“What are you on about?”

“Did you notice a couple of guys two doors down from you at number17?” repeated Wendy slightly exasperated.

“No, I’ve been too busy, but there’s a caravan on the front drive and a lot of noise coming from their back yard. They’re playing rounders by the sound of it”

“Well look out for them, one of them tried to get off with Jenny, she’s here with me — we just got back from the pool.” She related the incident with the basketball.

Carol’s screeching laugh could be heard almost without the phone. “Hang on I’m coming over, I have to hear this first hand”. She put the phone down and headed for the door.

“Carol’s on her way over,” Wendy relayed as she replaced the handset on the hook.

“Great, let’s get a drink” they sauntered through to the kitchen knowing that Carol would enter that way in a couple of minutes. She arrived breathless two minutes later.

They all hugged and cracked some tabs on some lemonade cans and sat at the table.

“I just passed number 17 and the two guys were in the garden, one tall with curly hair and the other heavier with glasses — that them?”

“Yeah Mark’s the taller one, I wonder if there’s another guy there for you” Wendy joked.

Jenny was making a large O with her mouth “you little vixen, you want to go out with them.”

“Of course I do — what better way to end the school hols. Not long enough to get involved and just enough time to get some pashing in”. Wendy tugged a the hem of her top and looked down at her neat breasts, “just enough time to get to second base I reckon.” Carol squealed and Jenny giggled like a drain.

“My God, you hussy. What would your mum say if she heard you?” Jenny stifled a full blown laugh and spluttered lemonade on the counter.

“She’d say, I think you need more work to do around the house to take your mind off boys” came a remote voice from the study.

Wendy’s face went redder than the Ruby Slippers in the Wizard of Oz. She covered it with her hands, “Oh my God! I didn’t realise mum was home”.

The sound of footfalls in the hall made the girls look towards the door awaiting the doom that surely would come.

Denise popped her head round the door “Er hi Mrs Somerset,” Jenny broke the silence. The head was followed by the body as she pushed the door wider. The look on her face was a picture of stifled laughter, like she was about to implode.

“I have to say, that’s the most fun I ever had delivering a line”. Denise grinned and leaned on the table looking into the fish eyes that Wendy had adopted as her own.

“M-u-um, you have to be the cruellest person in the universe, I was so scared then. I thought you were going to kill me!” Wendy’s eyes rolled up and she continued, “Lord preserve me from ‘oldies’ trying to be funny”.

They all burst into assorted chuckles and Denise held out her hands for silence, “That doesn’t mean I’m in favour of boys groping my little girl — not now not ever. But your scheme to make sure that it doesn’t go too far is admirable and a good idea — even if it is a bit hard on the boys.” She grinned. “My only proviso is that you don’t tell your father and you don’t go out on your own with them — keep together, there’s safety in numbers. It’s far too easy to get carried away. I think it’s time for the talk, and I’m going to ring your mums too young ladies and make sure the rules of engagement are set.” She looked in turn at each of the girls knowing that her rules would be in place no matter what rules the other parent gave.

The tension relaxed and “Aw mum, you have to set rules even for boys, it’s ridiculous, it’s not like we’re going to do anything …”
“I know at least four girls from my school who said that, they all ended up leaving early if you know what I mean.” She raised one eyebrow for emphasis. The girls coloured up again, this was not the sort of conversation that they were used to.

“You’re turning into young women and it’s time you understood that the young men are now catching up to you physically, where you were ahead of them for the last couple of years. Some of them will be fully grown by the end of this year and they’ll be far stronger than you are and may not understand the meaning of the word No when they’re full of surging hormones. And believe it or not, your hormones will be raging too and it’s way too easy for you to make a big mistake. Before that happens, I want you all to promise me that if you get into that position where you think it may go too far that you tell us if you can and make sure you go equipped if you catch my drift.” The girls nodded and coloured up again — this is not the type of conversation they were used to for sure!

Mum turned and retired gracefully, leaving the girls silent for a minute or two.

“Sheesh, where did that come from?” Carol was aware that she’d been pushed over the waterfall in the same barrel as the two others and Jenny had for the first time been included in a VERY female conversation and included completely as a fecund and normal woman. It felt a bit strange and she was hyperventilating a bit.

“I don’t feel too well after that, I never considered that the guys were anything more than I was a few months ago — just people… I didn’t expect that they’d be after jumping my bones and stuff. It just didn’t enter my mind.

Jenny looked over at her friends, “I’m getting my operation.”

The girls looked over at Jenny with expectation written on their faces, “When, when?” Carol pleaded.

“20th December if everything goes Ok, I found out the other day, I wasn’t sure how to break the news.” Jenny looked a bit stricken.

Carol and Wendy rushed to Jenny and held her tightly, “Wowowowowow. That is such a shock, how do you feel about it?” Carol asked the obvious.

“That’s precisely what the shrink asked when my mum told her. Dad had it all organised ages ago — but I had to get the shrink’s permission before mum let me know.”

I got simultaneous kisses on my cheek from both girls and they said almost in unison, “welcome to womanhood” then giggled.

“Do you think I should tell your mum Wendy? Since I’m here and stuff — it might be polite to let her know.” I wasn’t sure of the protocols on this one — I mused for a minute. “I’d better leave it for now, I don’t want to mess with anyone’s head”.

“Hey I’d better get going, it’s nearly tea time.” I jumped to my feet after looking at the clock over the sideboard.

“Me too.” Carol agreed.

We had another big hug and I raised my voice to say bye to Wendy’s mum.

A muffled cry was returned, “bye girls”.

We made our way home.

“Mum? What do you reckon about dating?”

“In what context dear?”

“ Well in the context of going out with boys I guess.”

Mum sat across from me, suspending operations in the kitchen for a moment. “It’s only what I expect a girl to do why? Have you found someone that you’d like to go out with?”

“Well I think it’s likely to happen in the foreseeable next two days,” I enlightened her.

“There’s a couple of guys staying over in Radnor Drive for the week — and I know Wendy wants to date one, and the other guy wants to date me — I think.” I stared at a tiny crumb on the table tying to imagine what it would be like to go out with a guy for real. Mum was silent for a moment.

“I think it would be nice for you dear, I’m glad you know who you are. I was worried in case you decided you were still liking girls as it were.”

“I never did really mum, I just liked them because they’re enviable. I don’t need to envy them any more, I am one!” Mum grinned and reinforced my opinion, “You sure are.”
“Do you think I’ll ever be pretty mum?” I asked somewhat whiningly, “I’d like to be pretty.”

“Come here darling,” she said with a snag in her voice, I went over to her and she turned me round — “look in the mirror on the sideboard dear” I could see my upper body — very slim with twin mounds that were a nice size — not big, but definitely there — I looked up to my face and hair — my hair was a little sunstreaked and flyaway after a day on the poolside but was quite Ok I guess. My face was tanned and smooth and my eyes unblemished and open. A completely normal and quite nice looking young lady.

“If there’s a prettier girl in the area, I’ve yet to meet her.” Mum hugged me from behind, her arms completely encircling me — She kissed my neck and whispered, “you will enchant any boy you wish sweetheart — even your dad. Just keep your head and don’t let them take you where you don’t want to go yet.”

She released me - “right go get your shower and I’ll set the table — salad tonight, so dead easy — do you want to cook some steaks on the BBQ?”
“When I get changed, won’t be long.” I dashed for the shower.

Supper was lovely and dad even gave me a glass of red wine — after he’d given me a huge hug hello. Did I say that I loved my folks. Oh, Nigel didn’t show, he was still working at the Restaurant. I’m beginning to miss him.

I awoke to realise that today, Tuesday, was the last Tuesday of freedom. Next Tuesday was the first day of my new life so to speak in my new school, meeting new friends and learning perhaps a different way of doing things. New friends meant that possibly there may be people who weren’t friends too. Maybe even some bullying and bitchiness to contend with.

One thing I did know, Carol and Wendy were in my new class and that made me feel a whole lot better. But I still had a week and I was going to make the best of it. Unless I had to — well I may like it, mightn’t I? —

“Jenny!!! Breakfast, front and centre, five minutes…” I staggered to my feet disentangling the nightie from my bedding and feeling under the bed with my toes for my slippers.

Five minutes later I was at the table — OK I had showered and washed my hair but I was still in my bathrobe and with a towel turbaned onto my locks. I felt a whole lot better.

Simple breakfast — scrambled eggs and toast. Yum. Nigel was there, he’d flooded his plate with what looked like a sea of red gore but was (I hope) only a rather large quantity of tomato ketchup. “Have you got shares in Heinz 57 Varieties Nige?” I smiled at him as I applied a little salt and pepper.

“oomph glumph,” was all I could make out, but he swallowed and repeated himself. “Controlling Interest, one more breakfast and I’ll own them outright.” He grinned back and made a big play for the final dripping mess entering his mouth. I winced as he shovelled it into his mouth. “No one is going to steal it if you only take smaller bites you know.”

“Yeah, but I like it to be hot and I get a huge assault of flavour on my palate with a bigger mouthful”

“If you like it hot, you should warm the ketchup…” I sipped a mouthful of tea, realising the gulf between my brother and myself was widening daily. He wiped his plate clean with a piece of bread and looked up at me.

“You know, I rather like having a sister to chide me into better manners.” He grinned swigged the rest of his coffee and rose leaving me to take my third mouthful of food. Mum joined me.

“Don’t think it has gone unnoticed Jen, I’m not sure if you do it on purpose, but I can’t see Jerry anywhere, I’m missing him a bit, but I really do like the girl I got.”

She cuddled her cup in her two hands and smiled over it at me.

“No, I’m not doing it on purpose, I think that I had to eat like Nigel on purpose, it always seemed to be such a waste to eat it so fast. You spent so long cooking it and it’s gone in two mouthfuls with Nigel.” I mused.

“Oh it’s not just the eating petal, it’s the whole box and dice, you’re sitting there all fresh and soft with the morning dew on your cheeks, your smile is warm, there’s an air of calm about you I have never seen in this house before. Not with the three guys I used to have anyway. Now I have something to remind me how beautiful the day can be.” She sipped, savouring the hot tea. “And I do love this Darjeeling tea.”

I put my knife and fork together on my empty plate, “You know mum, I can barely remember what it was like, before if you know what I mean. It’s like I’ve woken from a nightmare and it’s already forgotten.”

Beth sat for a minute, “how long did you feel like that?” she looked at me and searched for a sign as if a number of years was written on my face. “I mean like you were trapped in a strange place with nowhere to go?”

I picked up my cup, mirroring the attitude of my mother. “How long is a piece of string? I think I always felt that way. I’ve tried to look back and see where it started, but there wasn’t a beginning, it just was.” I sounded a bit sad, but it was only retrospective. “Anyway that’s all over now.” Brightening.

Mum grinned back — “I should say so, you don’t seem to be harbouring any shadows now. Before, you never seemed really to have the really big highs that most kids have — you were subdued like there was a cloud over you. It’s only an impression, but I feel you have a spark now, like there’s a point to it all.”

“I think you hit the nail on the head mum, I see life in my eyes when I look in the mirror, I see a happy face rather than the callow youth of before. So instead of getting maudlin over my past, I’m going to finish my tea and go do my hair and face and go see Carol since there’s a couple of things I have to sort out — names of Mark and Steve.” I grinned at mum as her eyes went from sleepy to round and her mouth pursed with shocked surprise but only the fun sort of surprise, since she grinned and shook her head as if to dismiss the thought.

I rang Wendy as soon as my hair was dry — “Sorry dear,” I got from Denise, “she’s gone round to Carol’s. I guess the magnets have been switched on.” I could hear her grin down the phone.

“Yeah I guess I’d better get over there before my chances are reduced to zero.” I quipped and hung up the phone. Knowing boys as I do, I don’t think they would even have stirred, it’s was still before 9.30am.

I was wrong. As I walked past number 17 towards Carol’s, the boys were washing down the caravan with buckets of soapy water and two of the largest sponges I have ever seen.

“Morning Jenny,” Mark put down his sponge and dried his hands by wiping them down his jeans, leaving a soapy wet area on his thighs, “I trust you spent a wonderful night and are well rested this lovely morning?” His joviality and insincerity were in direct proportion and it came out daft enough sounding to make me laugh out loud.

“Do you sleep in the van or in the house?” I replied. “or is that kennel I can see under the tree over there where you are destined to rest your head?” I tried to replicate his vocal swagger. They both laughed and Mark said, “close, we were going to put a tent up while we were here right next to the kennel, but my uncle managed to borrow this van from a friend, so Steve and I are in the lap of luxury while we’re here.” He smirked, “oh and we get to have a little privacy too.” Wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

I hadn’t stopped walking and I wiggled my fingers as I passed and said, “oh how nice for you, may I knock on your door later and inspect the said accommodations to make sure it’s appointments are sufficiently attractive to induce me to dally awhile within?”
“Sounds like a good plan to me, why not now if your heart can stand the stress of being so close to one so handsome as I?” He bowed and flourished his arms in supplication.

“Later serf, I must away and visit my companions.” We were almost laughing by this time. “Are there any more at home like you? I have another companion that wishes company, who live but two doors away. I directed my arm to Carol’s house and glanced that way, realising that Carol and Wendy were both looking out of the window. Mark hadn’t noticed the extra interest from number 21.

“Actually yes, Steve’s brother is here too but he’s a year older and may not fall so easily for the attractions of nubile young maidens, wishing perhaps a more worldly encounter.” Mark kept up the patter, Steve was looking decidedly chirpy at the prospect of spending time with Wendy.
“See you later then, you may carry on with your duties.” I dismissed them with a wave.

One minute later I was retelling the whole encounter as we squealed and giggled behind Wendy’s front door. I glanced through the glass next to the door and Mark and Steve were looking expectantly across to us though there was no doubt they could not see us from outside.

I said, “come on Carol, show yourself and then Steve’s brother will see what he’s up for… if you are…” expecting her to baulk completely — she immediately opened the door and walked outside to check the brother out, except he wasn’t there so she had to pretend to be inspecting the flowers so that her appearance could be relayed to said brother…. I’d never seen Carol and Wendy like that before, they were both on the hunt, and seemed to be a lot braver than I could ever be where boys were concerned.

“My God Carol, you hussy, showing yourself off like that,” I whispered shrilly, “you’ll have him thinking you’re easy.”
“Hey, let the fox see the rabbit is what I say, or we’ll never even get to first base, never mind second, I’ll bet they’re going by the weekend. We have much work to do grasshopper.” She turned to me and said “anyway you can talk after that show you just put on by their front gate.” She grinned and gave me a thumbs up.

“I can see him looking out the front window, he looks dishy and even taller than Mark.”

“We should go over and offer ourselves up as sacrifices straight away or all will be lost.” Wendy joined the attack — “We have limited time ladies and the mission must be accomplished.” She stood ramrod straight and whipped off a salute to the framed picture of a man on the hall wall — a soldier from the first world war I guessed from the sepia tone of the photo. “Let’s go get ‘em babes.”

She ushered us both out of the front door and we were totally unable to resist since we all wanted it to happen. So we pretended to be just sauntering and walked across to number 17, reaching their gate just as the three guys came out of the front door. Wendy said under her breath, “Fix…….bayonets, no prisoners.” We giggled and stopped by the gate.

Marks brother came over and opened the gate before we had formed our attack flank and ushered us in, “Walk this way ladies, if you please.” He turned and led the way to the caravan which the other two had reached and opened the door to. We baulked at being led to the slaughter so easily.

“I’m Martin, Steve’s older and wiser brother, the one with the panache and charm, intelligence and wit.” He introduced himself, these two are presently my slaves and will be making the coffee very shortly if that is your desire…. Amongst other things.” he added with a smarmy smile. I tried to hold in the giggle that would give me up as a hopeless virgin. The other two succeeded as well and we just smiled at the obvious repartee.

The spell was broken and Wendy went over and peered inside the caravan which looked quite new. “Hey this is really nice, come and look,” she beckoned us, I noticed Mark rub his hands gleefully in what I hoped was jest…

“Would you like a cuppa or would you prefer some pop?” Mark asked me to open the dialogue.

“A cup of coffee would be really nice, thanks.” I took the plunge and stepped up into the van — it seemed huge inside with a double bed at one end and a single made up at the other there was seating to each side of the single bed which I slid into as more of us entered the confines. It did preserve a semblance of personal space, though I realised that after I had moved round the table that the seating surrounded that I was sat on the bed. “Who sleeps in this one?” I asked innocently, “whichever of you likes,” was the instant reply, almost as if there had been some discussion of likely questions and answers to give. I flushed a bit but managed to pass it off. “Well, don’t you fancy your chances then boys?” Carol piped up.

“Well actually I do.” Martin volunteered, “since I usually get up first in the morning — I’m in training, so I go for a run first thing.” He expanded.

“Training for what?” Carol ventured, trying to gain his attention. It seemed that Martin was more interested in me and that wasn’t the way we had planned it, I wondered if it mattered. He flexed his arm with his fingers interlocked, “I’m on the first fifteen for my school this year — I’m in the upper 6th ,” he supplied proudly.

Carol smiled at him now that she had his attention, and showed him she was interested. Mark had sat down next to me and Steve was putting the kettle on trying to light the stove with a match — there was a pop and an ouch to show that he had succeeded in doing that and burning his fingers. Martin went over and opened the cupboard door and pulled out some biscuits which he promptly put on the table. Mark grabbed them and gave them back to his brother. “try putting them on a plate, we have company.”

Martins face reddened slightly, “Sheesh, Mr Etiquette himself, who’d have thought I would have to take such stick from a young ‘un such as him?” His glance at Mark was possibly a little harsh, and I know I’ve done it to Nigel before so it was bound to crop up later when we were safely out of earshot. I got a thick ear more than once.

“So do you two boys sleep together then?” Wendy was teasing. Mark and Steve looked a bit uncomfortable — “You’re not kissing cousins are you?” she added with a saccharin smile. Mark cracked first. We all gagged and spluttered.

“I’d rather have the single bed, but Martin got that. He should sleep with his brother really — it’s more … proper.” He excused himself.

“It’s not the best arrangement I admit, but there’s only three bedrooms in the house and our folks are in those already so we got the short straw. My niece has to sleep in her mum and dad’s room and he snores loud enough for us to hear it out here,” he grinned. “She looks like death warmed over in the mornings.”

The kettle whistled and soon we were dunking and chomping biscuits and nattering away like we’d known each other for ever. We settled into the format we expected Wendy got Steve and I got Mark — Martin was nicely interested in Carol too. It was an education for me — as they guys were so sweet and kind. Something I’d never experienced as a guy.

I’d only ever had derogatory comments or put downs from guys in groups. Here, they were putting us in the centre and being so nice. Eventually we managed to get back into the sunlight when Steve’s dad came out and reminded the guys that they were all going into the town that afternoon. The ladies were going to shop and the guys were going down to the river to fish for a while. I had a think about that and realised that the only fishing they would probably do is fishing in their pockets for beer change. Since they all looked over 18 (though I knew that mark and Steve were only a few months older than I). and fathers always took their sons into pubs when on holiday.

So we arranged to meet them later at about 4pm and turned to go. As I turned, Mark touched my arm and I turned back to see what he wanted, before I had a chance to stop him, he’d stepped up to me and planted a kiss on my lips. Only a peck really but it was a surprise and to be honest it was a nice one. I smiled at him and suddenly he’d put his hand behind my head and given me another firmer one. My knees nearly buckled, my God — it was like getting hit by a runaway cricket ball. I saw stars, my tummy went in knots and my eyes were fixed and dilated. I could smell his skin, soft and musky, feel the warmth of his face and the firmness of his hand behind my head, his lips were soft and dry, he tasted of biscuits. I could hardly breathe for a second.

Mark smiled at me — “was it that bad?” I smiled and shook my head, “no it was a surprise, that’s all.”

He turned to go with his brother. The girls were staring at me like I’d just done a striptease.

When we got back to Carol’s, Wendy grabbed me looking into my still dilated pupils, “are you ok? You look like you got hit by a train, he’s a bit fast isn’t he? I nodded a bit incoherently.

Wendy offered, “If you’re going to go at it like that, you’re going to be at second base by 4.30 this afternoon.” She grinned and snorted down her nose.
Carol turned for the kitchen, “let’s get some lunch.”

I was still tingling 20 minutes later.

By the time lunch came round my insides were in a fit state to receive it — just.

I had no idea what emotional content was included in something so simple as a kiss — sure kissing a girl last year had been really nice and I’d gotten a kick out of it, but the reality of kissing a guy was overwhelming — I could well understand the compulsion to keep lunging forward as the libido forced you to take each step. My libido was apparently alive and well and living a little south of my ribs…. Carol and Wendy had ceased teasing me but were regarding me with seriously concerned eyes for most of the time up to lunchtime when I seemed to come out of my ‘rapture’.

Wendy said quietly, “welcome back kid,” and smiled at me affectionately. I realised that I had spaced for most of two hours.

“S-sorry about that, I had no idea that it could be like that, that’s the first time I’ve been kissed by a guy I liked. It’s very different.” I felt myself colouring up again, though the tears I thought I was due to release stayed inside my face for a change. I grinned and glanced at my two friends. They were sat regarding me with their chins on their hands and their elbows on the table like two of the monkeys in the ‘see no hear no’ series. Except that they were seeing of course and watching like crazy.

We decided to have a wander down towards the river which was well within reason — if we encountered the boys, we could be allowed to say we did walk for the fun of it. We actually didn’t see them at all, but passed a nice afternoon in the slightly cooler end of summer holidays sort of warmth.

The family didn’t get back while we were there, so we left Carol to keep watch and went home for tea. Wendy left me at my door with one of those looks on her face that spoke of conspiracy and the near future.

“Hey, no doubling back to Radnor Drive you,” I admonished, Wendy snapped her fingers and grinned — “Damn sprung again by body language, you’re getting good kid!”

I waggled a finger and grinned back “see you later missy”.

Carol phoned later and said that they still hadn’t returned so I settled down for the evening. No point in trying to break any records — there’s always time. I realised that I have the rest of my life now.

I didn’t realise at the time that my acceptance of the mating ritual was superficial and that there was more to it than that. I was playing a dangerous game and didn’t even know the rules

“Jenny, phone!” penetrated my soft slumbers — I looked at my watch — 7.30am.

“It’s Carol, do you want to ring back?”

“Yes please, I’m still trying to open my eyes”. That’ll teach me to watch videos til midnight.

“You’ve got 10 mins, she’s going out in 15 minutes.” Came from outside the door.

“It’s not locked, come in mum,” I managed from the safety of my duvet.

The door opened and mum popped her head in, “Carol said she’s going to the shops in quarter of an hour. She said the guys came back at 10.30 last night and it’s obvious they won’t surface any time soon — they were carousing worse than cats on heat, and I quote that directly, so don’t look at me like it’s my language.”

I sat up slowly and grinned — she’s pretty good for a wrinkly…

“Why is she going to the shops at this time in the morning?”

“I’m not privy to the machinations of a 15 year old mind, but she said she’d meet you at Grounds at 9.30 if you’re not up to making it in ten minutes… which I guess you’re not.”

I sank slowly back to the pillow. “Close it quietly mum.” But it was too late, I was awake. After a rehabilitating shower and scrub, I appeared at the breakfast table just as dad got up to go to work, he gave me a peck as he passed and did the same to mum. “See you later ladies.” Nice way to get the warm fuzzies at 8 am.

“ It’s Wednesday, and you start school in 6 days — we haven’t even got your new uniforms yet. We’re going to have to go to town today or tomorrow, so get yourself organised.”

I realised that was what Carol was doing — taking the opportunity to get her new school stuff before the crowds got in there — damn she’s a smart cookie. I snagged a bowl and poured some sunshine into my bowl, followed by the lovely cold milk and a drizzle of sugar. Quickest breakfast I know.
“Could we go straight away after I finish these corn flakes?” I was already filling my mouth — I had stacks of training in this mode of nourishment, 15 years of it.

“Slow down, I need ten minutes to get myself straightened out and we can be there in less than  ½ an hour — gives us an hour to get the essentials.

You won’t be needing gym or sports kit, so it’s just the skirt and jacket, a couple of jumpers and a few blouses - oh and the tie.”

I suddenly realised that I would be defined by my uniform in a very short time. One of a crowd of girls getting off the school bus and heading into my new school. I felt a bit giddy — I knew a total of five girls from the group I was in and the school held about 550 students — I would be going into the upper fifth form — one of 120 students in that year. I don’t think I’ve ever seen 500 girls in one group — which I would in assembly on Tuesday.

“Earth to Jenny, are you receiving me?” I resurfaced.

“Sorry, I was just thinking how different it will be for me next week. I’ve got the wobbles inside about it.”

Mum smiled at me and ruffled my slightly damp hair. “I’ll just go and change, don’t go out with your hair damp — it’s go all flat in this weather”.

By 8.30 we were parked in the main street and heading for the school uniform shop — there were already quite a few in the shop as we entered and I turned automatically towards the boy’s section. I came to a halt in about two steps — like there was a physical barrier in front of me. There was, the manager of the boys’ section. “I think you need that section over there miss” he pointed out the girls’ department. Mum stood looking at me and shaking her head gently — “You’ve been coming in here for how many years?” I looked suitably embarrassed and turned towards the racks of uniforms that delineated the boundary of my new attire. The colours were much brighter than the male section and seemed more inviting — I smiled and looked at mum. “Come on then, I haven’t got all day, I’m meeting Carol in an hour.”

“She’s over there,” mum pointed to the changing room where Carol had just emerged in the green skirt and jacket of my new school. She looked weird, I’d never seen her in a senior school uniform and she looked sort of grown up — I realised in a few minutes, so would I. I waved but she was just going back into the change room and didn’t see me. We raked along the rows and I picked out a skirt and jacket in my size — easy when you have to have the one style isn’t it. “I’ll just go and try these, could you get me some size 12 blouses?”

I stepped into the changing room area and realised there were no cubicles — just an open room with about a dozen girls in different states of undress… yowser!

I tried to look nonchalant and hung up the jacket and skirt — Carol spotted me and came over, “You’re bright red, are you ok?” she grinned at me — she knew why I was pink to my stocking tops!

“Sshh — don’t be mean” I gave her a hug and she sat on the seat next to me and watched as I disrobed.

She’d seen me in bikinis all summer so it was nothing new.

“I suddenly realised at breakfast where you’d be, so I thought I’d steal a march on you and get my stuff too since the boys are bound to sleep in if they were out on the beer last night.” I thought about it as I tried on the skirt, “I’m not sure I want a boyfriend who drinks like a fish.” I felt a certain distaste for the type of behaviour that alcohol seems to define.

“Does this skirt look big on me or is it just my arse is so small?”

Carol stood up and pulled at the waistband — the skirt’s too big — they’re cut huge in this place. Get a size ten.” I slipped the jacket on — that was huge too… and the sleeves were so long I couldn’t see my hands.

Mum came in with a blouse, “I think you’d better try one of these, they look a bit big” — then she looked at me, “Oh my, don’t you look a sight. Reminds me of how we used to get stuff when I was at school. You started off the year with something too big and it was too small by the end of the year. I don’t think we’ll do that this time — you’re too old for that, let’s start again in size ten eh?”

Carol was finished with the clothes and just needed shoes, “I’ll see you outside in a few minutes.”

“Please stay Carol, I need support here, I feel a bit naked — I’ve never been around so many underclad females.”

Carol looked around and sat back down, “sorry, I didn’t realise it was all so new, you seem to have been a girl forever, I can’t remember you as Jerry.” She spoke quietly and made sure no one was listening so I felt OK about her dialogue, but it was unnerving talking about it in front of so many ‘spies’.

Except for stockings and shoes I was all done, size ten fitted me perfectly and I even looked a little smart — I felt really good — sort of normal and no different from the rest of the crowd. It was a new feeling for me. Something I’d never ever felt in my life. The shoes were the usual tuff brogue type or a sort of modified court shoe depending on whether you wore tights or socks. I ended up with courts and tights — winter was not a time for knee socks — I remember that from being a 12 year old boy in shorts….
Yuck!

“Has Wendy got her school stuff then? I didn’t hear her mention it.”

“I think the stuff from last year is still ok, she hasn’t grown much in the last year and she’s a neat freak anyway so her uniform is probably in better nick than ours,” Carol grinned — and the skirt is probably a bit shorter and more eye appealing than ours. Most people take them up — but not too far — it does get drafty waiting for the bus and you don’t want to be too vulnerable to the boys — they’re always trying to get a glimpse of knickers — opportunistic brats — especially the 12 year olds.”

I was a bit surprised until I thought back. The guys in my class used to drop stuff on the bus to get a glimpse of someone’s panties if they thought they could get away with it. Then brag that they had seen so and so’s knickers. I shuddered a bit at the memory.

Our mum’s had been chattering away all this time outside the change rooms and we all headed off for a coffee before they departed for the sanctity of their respective homes. Carol and I ventured down the main street for a while and window shopped. I bought some cheap bangles I saw in the gift shop and got matching ones for Carol and Wendy — sort of sisterhood presents. Carol was quite misty about it and gave me a hug, “You’re really sweet Jenny, I wouldn’t have thought of that, and you’ve only been at it for a few months.”

About 3 months is all it has taken to get me to there. I’ve had a total life makeover in three months. We headed back to Carol’s and called Wendy, we hadn’t passed the caravan so we didn’t know if the boys were up and about as we’d come from the other direction. But it was plenty late — we looked out of the window towards the van, but it seemed quiet — when Wendy got here she looked a bit stricken. “There’s no one about at the boys’ place, I wonder what’s going on?” We realised then that there wasn’t even a car outside or on the drive — did that mean they’d gone?

Wendy asked Carol’s mum if she’d seen anything when she got home. “No, I think they must have gone out when we were in town. Didn’t they say anything about being here? That’s a bit mean.”

“We didn’t think they’d be so rude, I’m sure they thought more of us than that.” Wendy turned from the window and looked disappointed and near to tears. I put my arm round her, “they’re only boys, they don’t know any better and besides we can have much more fun without them.”

Wendy looked at me with soft eyes and smiled slightly. “You know you really are a sweet girl Jenny. Always thinking of our feelings and not your own. I think you’re more female than we are.”

“Let’s call it a draw,” I said smiling. These two people were just about the most important in my life and they’d accepted me into their hearts, I felt overwhelmed.

“Hey look, they’re there.” Carol pointed out the window and passing the gate was Mark’s dad’s car closely followed (really close) by Steve’s dad’s blue Ford.

“Hey, I think the blue car is being towed,” sure enough they were going really slowly and you could see the towrope between the slats of the picket fence.
“Wonder what happened — they don’t look damaged — perhaps the engine is duff.” I surmised.

The front car was full of bodies the back one had only the driver. When we opened the door the only sound we heard was one engine — “ Well it’s not the gearbox,” I said confidently, “they would run it if they could so the brakes would work properly.”

The guys spotted us and waved. The hands that waved were several shades of disgusting. They must have been messing under the bonnet. They were oily up to their elbows. Once the cars were parked we decided it would be ok to wander over and see what the problem was. The guys greeted us like old buddies — we shied away from their hugs — yuck oil!

“We couldn’t start it last night so we all piled into dad’s car” Steve offered “and this morning we went back to fix it, but it seems there’s a broken belt or something inside the engine and we haven’t any tools here.”

“Dad’s got a load if you need some, I don’t think he’d mind if you borrowed them as long as they don’t end up like your hands,” I smile at Mark who grinned back. “Offer accepted.” The girls winked at me with a smile.

“You’d better come with me and get them then I’m not carrying icky spanners for you.” I realised the great divide I’d crossed really was crossed at that point, I wasn’t even tempted to touch the tools even for Mark. And I wasn’t going to offer the snippet that the timing belt to the overhead cam had probably slipped either. The tensioners had a habit of coming loose on that model I seemed to remember…….oh my.Mark followed me down the road like a puppy and I showed him the toolbox in the shed. “They’re all in there, but I think you’ll only need the 10 mil and the 12 mil sockets and the open ended 14 mil for the alternator.” I said without thinking.

Mark looked at me with eyes that reminded me of Marty Feldman — bugged out of his head.

“Say that again,” he was looking at me like I was some kind of alien.

“Oh shut up, dad used to have the same problem with his, I had to help him and I have a good memory,” I blustered, slapping him across the arm then inspecting my palm to make sure I hadn’t slapped an oily bit.

“If I thought you knew what you were talking about, I’d ask you to marry me right now,” he gushed. “I’ve never heard of a girl who even knew what a spanner was,” he shook his head as if disbelieving his ears or more likely just accentuating the sarcasm.

“Well you’re welcome to take the lot.” I shrugged to indicate my indifference to his attitude, though I could feel my face burning up. His grin showed me he knew I knew what I said.

“You show me which ones I’ll need, then I won’t have to carry 40 lbs of tools.”

I grabbed a plastic glove off the bench and flipped the lid on the box. Passing Mark the spanners he needed.

“There, satisfied now?” I didn’t know what to do with my face. I looked past him into the garden. Slowly his face came into line with mine. It was huge, meaning it was close too. I went into shock and didn’t move. His lips approached and I felt like a rabbit in the headlights of a car.

His lips touched mine and my heart leapt into high gear. The kiss firmed and I felt his tongue against my lips, I responded not by backing off as I should, but by parting my lips. I could feel my heart slamming in my chest and I felt tingles all over my body, my arms felt so heavy. I couldn’t move. Slowly my free hand came up to cradle his head as his tongue searched my mouth and played tag with mine.

“Ach,hmm,” I suddenly came back to earth with a bump. “You want a hand with the tools son?” Mark’s father stood in the door to the shed. “I wondered if you were trying to borrow them from the next county.”

Mark looked like he’d been caught with his hands in the cookie jar. But being as how they were holding the tools and I wasn’t covered in oily paw marks, there was no reason to believe he’d been on the rampage with them.

“Sorry dad I was just thanking Jenny for showing me which tools we needed.”
“I can see that lad.”

My head was still swimming in adrenalin, hormones and excess blood from the blush that made me look like Hiawatha. Had I actually done that? Kissed Mark like he was my husband?

I stepped out of the shed with Mark and there was mum right behind Mark’s dad. I didn’t know what to do with my face. I peeled off the glove and tugged at my top. Realising that was absolutely the wrong message to send, I let them fall to my sides and just hung my head. Mum lifted my chin and looked into my eyes, I saw in her eyes the softest most caring love I think I’ve ever seen in my life. Mum also knew I had crossed the great divide.

“Don’t be late back. Supper is at 6.30.” She looked sternly at Mark and winked at me and grinned at Mark’s dad.

“Ok Mrs Holland, I’ll make sure she’s back in time.” Mark assured her. Mum looked at Mark again, this time with almost a look of astonishment. I realised that Mark had basically taken responsibility for me — as my boyfriend.

I gulped and looked away. My God this is moving fast… Carol was right — the way this was going I wouldn’t even be a virgin by 4.30 never mind second base. I suddenly felt sick. I needed air. I couldn’t lose my virginity to Mark. Not until about March next year anyway. And I think at that moment I really wanted to. We moved towards the gate and mum went back inside. Mark and his dad led the way with the handful of tools we needed. “I reckon these are exactly what we’ll need,” Mark senior assessed as he inspected the array. “How did you know son?”

“Oh, Jenny here said her dad had the same problem and she helped him, so she knew what tools to find.”

I got the fish eyes from them both this time. “This one’s a keeper son — look after her.” Was all I heard. Though I could sense the grin as he said it.

I told the girls what had happened as we waited for the boys to finish messing. It took them far longer than it took dad and me. But I wasn’t going to tell them that.

“You WHAT? You picked out exactly the right tools — and ended up with a snogging match?”

“He said he wanted to marry me because I was so astute and knowledgeable about boy things…I guess there’s two sides to having a boy background. However my dear friends,” I added carefully, “if I ever do something so stupid again, you have my permission to poke me with a sharp stick.”.

“I reckon your mum is ace for not making a fuss.”

I coloured a little as I remembered her face. “Yeah, I wonder how dad will feel when he hears.”

The sound of a cranking engine then a cough and a roar proved that they could finish the job in only three times what the average apprentice might do. They looked mighty pleased as they closed the bonnet and wiped the oil off their hands.

It wasn’t long before they were testing it out and they all piled in for a trip for a coffee and a sandwich in town. Six in one car wasn’t a problem — even in a compact — as long as you took it steady, no one made a fuss.

The car ran like a dream — or at least I was in a dream, as I was squashed onto Mark’s lap the whole way. I don’t remember much about the coffee or the pastry we ate — though I found out later we’d all eaten at least one piece — and all paid for by the boys. There are stacks of advantages to being a girl. What I did remember was all the stares we got while Mark made sure my lips didn’t dry out.

“What have you done to your face?” mum held me by the chin. “Oh, I see, beard rash.” She hrmpph’ed, rolled her eyes and carried on peeling the spuds.

My eyes widened when she said that, “What, I’m growing a beard?”

“No dear, Mark appears to have rubbed your face raw with his.” She was grinning and trying to stop her shoulders shaking, as I went redder and redder (never mind the beard rash) as I realised that what I’d been doing was so obvious.

“Go put some cold cream on or it’ll be very sore later.” Mum consoled me with her wisdom. “It’ll look less red by the time dad gets home too — which if he’s true to form will be in about 30 minutes, so scoot.”

Thursday dawned clear and cool, and I rose early hoping to get down to Carol’s to aid in the comfort zone fabrication round one caravan nearby. Carol and Wendy had caught up and Carol being under the tutelage of a slightly older beau had achieved second base — and was trying to avoid being subject to further advancement. However it was not to be as when I arrived all powdered and preened at Carol’s, the cars with the boys in were just pulling out of the gate.

The guys looked crestfallen and I felt similarly downtrodden. I walked on to Carol’s and she told me the guys had to go to the final county cricket match of the season as they had booked and paid for tickets and their father had insisted that they be used. They were apparently mixed in their loss of girlfriends for the day as beer and cricket were to be the order of the day and they were all too pleased at THAT prospect.

We decided to do the pool for the last time as we needed to top up our tans for the duration of a long cold winter. When we got to the pool it was actually quite chilly due to the onshore breeze, so we stayed pretty much clothed and in the café area soaking up coffee and hot chocolate. We discussed what we’d be doing is school this year and I started to get excited about going to the high school and more than a little hyper about my future as a green clad school girl (they were looked up to in the area as the elite of the academic females).

“Do you think anyone is going to give me a hard time?” I asked holding my mug of chocolate between my hands for warmth. “ I’m going to be the newbie and in the upper fifth it won’t be easy to integrate without edging out someone else.”

“Well you won’t be in danger of messing up the sports teams as you’ve never really been in that league and you won’t be doing any real stuff anyway due to your *weak heart*.” Carol giggled at that one. “Your doctor needs his head examined, you look like you could run a marathon — weak heart indeed.”

“What do you reckon you’ll be picked on for? I don’t really understand, it’s not as if you’re ugly or fat or spotty — you have nice hair, dress well and you have a nice manner. You’re really quite pretty, but not the most beautiful girl in the school, you have friends already. What’s the problem?”
“I have a willy. I spent most of the last 15 years as a boy and I’m spastic when it comes to coordination since I’m not used to the body mapping thing — I’ve caught my breasts on the car doors so often, I wince before I even get out.” We all guffawed at that one.

“Carol and I were like that last term, so it’s not any different — there’s still plenty of girls going through the same thing at the moment and the boys are the same too — Steve’s always tripping over himself. Or me,” she grinned as she finished.

I felt better having discussed it, but I still felt edgy about it. I’d have to wait and see I suppose, but the wait is what was making me anxious. I suppose there was no real reason to worry, unless someone I knew was likely to recognise me, but I don’t think that was likely as there was little reason to link me to the previous person. I didn’t look like Jerry any more — even though I looked more like Karen Carpenter than ever.

The Way Things Happen

 
 
The end of the holidays

Part5

When I got home, dad was home early and had some more news about the move and it looked really set in concrete. We would be moving to South East Queensland early in March.
“So we’ll get our glad rags on and head out for the evening, I feel the need to celebrate and I think you have one or two things you need to celebrate too my little angel,” he put his arm round me and gave me such a hug. I looked up at him and the look in his eye was unfathomable.
“What?” I had no idea what he meant.

My vision was interrupted by a manilla envelope with my name typed on the front.
Mum was holding it and as I reached up she moved it out of my reach. “Shower and change first then you get to read it.”
“Aw come one, what is it?” I looked at it in mum’s hand but I couldn’t read the logo in the corner.
“Change.”
Never in the field of human shampooing has so much been cleaned in so short a time by someone so clumsy. I went over in my mind what it could be. Name change? Hospital booking? — wait and see I guess.

20 mins later I was front and centre just as Nigel came through the door. “Hi all, whazzup?” he gathered we were all heading somewhere but due to his usual lack of communication, he hadn’t been included in the invite.

“If you want to come out for a meal, you have ten minutes to get ready”. Mum offered.
“Thanks anyway, I’m headed out to the disco with a new girlfriend so I’ll let you play on your own tonight.” He grinned and gave me a hug as he passed. I was getting to quite like him even if he was a bit distant.

Dad piped up before he got out of earshot, “Just to let you know Nige, we’ve got a moving date of 12th March, by which time, you’ll be safely ensconced in the arms of your loving gran and pop. I’ll give you the details later.

By this time I’d just about lost it. “Where’s that envelope? I wanna see what’s in it.”
Mum laughed and passed it to me logo first — Somerset House… a light came on in my head. I looked at mum and dad and my eyes flooded, “Bi..irth Cert..tif.ic.ate?” I could hardly speak. I carefully opened the envelope and there inside was a covering letter and my new birth certificate with my new name on it and written in the sex column — ‘girl’

I screamed so loud Nigel yelled upstairs “What in God’s name was that? Stop beating my little sister you fiends” followed by a sort of thunder as he came running downstairs. He arrived at the door in his underwear — well just his underpants actually — a nice shade of aqua — quite hip for a guy. “Everything Ok?”

“Jenny just got her new Birth Certificate. She’s officially a real girl now.”
Nigel relaxed and retired back to changing for his date. I hope my boyfriend doesn’t wear Y fronts… I wanted a nice hip guy like my brother…. MY GOD! What was I saying?

“Can I phone Carol and Wendy?” — I had to tell the news….. how girly is that?
“Yes but be quick” — In the next minute screams could be heard in two streets nearby — and questions were asked by various parents and neighbours about child abuse and phone stalkers. Then we went out.

The meal was splendid and even though I ate quite a lot, I didn’t overdo it, so I went to bed and lay there thinking about the beaches and sun I would be absorbing on them in the near future. I didn’t realise that Queensland winters weren’t that warm, but they were warmer than here…. Life was full of new things — no time for depression or anxiety.
Sure….

Friday — only 4 days til I go to school — and so much to do — like books and homework, except I didn’t have any carryovers to do or assignments or anything like that — all I really had to do was buy some pens and pencils and stuff like that. I decided that I could get all that stuff this morning as I lay thinking about the day ahead and the chance that I might get to be with Mark. My tummy did a flip and my hand strayed to my soft breasts and my hardening nipples. Oh God! What am I doing?
I jerked my hand away and turned onto my front, gasping at the thoughts that had entered my head — I guess I’m a heterosexual girl all right!

I was into the shower with the water on decidedly cool as fast as I could get there. But that almost made it worse so I put it on softer and a bit warmer so it didn’t make my skin pucker. Ten minutes later I was sitting over a cup of coffee with my hair in a turban and my robe over some nice underwear.

“Mu-umm, I’m going to need some information about my emotions, or is that putting it too bluntly? How am I supposed to feel when a guy kisses me? What do I do to stop myself giving myself to him? I feel overwhelmed by the feelings inside me — it’s hard to control — I never realised I would be so vulnerable or so wanton. I feel like someone has hypnotised me and made me into a Seductress and it’s my job to get him into my bed. It feels really weird.”

Mum looked at me with her eyebrows somewhere up near her hairline and the spatula in her hand dripping oil onto the cooktop. “I can see we need ‘the talk’ don’t we petal?” She turned back to the stove as dad stepped into the kitchen and dropped the paper onto the table. “How are my two favourite ladies this morning?” he reached his arm round my shoulder then sat next to me, giving me a warm cheerful smile. “So what did you think of our moving plan then? Ready to give those Aussie surfers some hell?”

According to the map and photos I’d seen, the Gold coast of Queensland was going to be about 20 minutes away by car and we’d be living in a beautiful suburb with leafy roads and landscaped lawns. Nothing like the impression you’d get from the average Australian show like “The Flying Doctor” or “The Thornbirds”. “Neighbours” hadn’t arrived in UK at that point so I had no idea. I had thought we’d be living in Dusty Hicksville with a clapboard pub down the street and Kangaroos you had to dodge to get to school.

It looked like something out of Los Angeles or even the South of France — Bright sunshine and green hills. I looked at dad and smiled, “Oh daddy what shall I do? So many men and so little time.” Giving him the full Gone With the Wind treatment. He playfully rubbed my turban which immediately fell onto my lap, my hair uncoiling like a wet snake. “Gee thanks Pop.”

Dad looked at me and I saw a sparkle in his eye, “You’re getting to be very, very beautiful darling, I hope I can fend off all those guys at least for enough time to enjoy your company for a year or two more.” He nearly brought a tear to my eye.

Mum broke the spell with a pair of plates. “I think it’s about time you did some of the breakfasts miss, I’m getting a bit bored doing this every morning.”

“You wouldn’t want to send daddy off to work with indigestion would you?” I rolled my eyes and tried to downplay the fact that I was still avoiding cooking at breakfast time. Personally I was getting to enjoy having a bowl of Weetabix and some fruit — except that mum kept to the eggs and toast as a better way to start the day. Dad didn’t have any paunch so I guess the balance was ok!

When I rang Wendy, she said she’d be happy to point out the things we needed for school and we decided to meet in town.

“Meet me at B&Q (hardware store) I’ll be there at ten. I’ll bring Carol too, I’m sure she hasn’t got the rest of her stuff yet,” that had me puzzled — why the hardware store?…

“Ok, see you there” I put the phone down and stood there a minute trying to work out what we’d want in the hardware. “Mu-um, why would we go to the hardware store for school stuff?”

“Wait and see,” came the reply — I could actually hear her grinning.
I shrugged and went and got ready — Jeans and sneakers since it was a non-girlie day.

I got off the bus in the centre and walked the short distance to the DIY centre, where B&Q were situated. The girls were checking out the garden furniture when I arrived — checking it out for size that is, they were sat there as if it was their garden they were in. They jumped up all smiles when they saw me. Two minutes early — “You only need to wait for five more minutes and you’ll be a regular girl — a couple of minutes late.” Carol joshed and gave me a hug.

I smiled and said, “that makes you regular guys then, you were both early.”

“Ah — dad dropped us off on the way — we’ve been here ages — we’ve even spied out what we need, bet you can’t guess.” Wendy was all smug, she knew I hadn’t a clue.

“I have no idea, what would you need in here?”

“Wallpaper! And ‘contact’ (a sort of self adhesive plastic coating for shelving) as well” Carol was watching to see if I clued yet. I didn’t.

“TO COVER OUR BOOKS WITH, SILLY,” they both said together and started laughing.

“You’re not serious? You actually pick wallpaper and stuff to cover your books with — how weird is that?” I shook my head in disbelief.

“See? there are some things you don’t know. It’s a lot easier to recognise your own books if you have your own design on the covers. And a nice bright cover makes you feel better — even if it is maths inside.” Carol said happily as she put her arm round my waist and I fell into step as we marched inside. I was having this image of maths books with teddy bears or fairies on the cover as we strolled down the aisle towards the decorating section.

But in the end I realised it was an individual thing and I chose a neat Marble effect for my exercise books and for the loose cover stuff (we weren’t allowed to stick plastic on the text books) I got a really nice jungle green with exotic ferns and rainforest plants. It was cool really since I’d been reading up about where we were moving to and there was loads of rainforest nearby.

After that we got some pencils and the other stuff that is normal for the student of whichever gender you’re trying to portray. — The new pencil case had to be a bit more feminine, but I rather enjoyed trying to find one with butterflies on — since I counted myself as a bit of a butterfly in my metamorphosis and it would be my own private joke. I got a small backpack with a butterfly motif as well — I hope no one realises the significance.

By lunch time we had just about done our dash and we couldn’t think of another thing to buy — which for girls is a great achievement. We sat down and had a milk shake apiece and decided that since the boys were going home tomorrow and may be forced to go out with their parents tonight, this afternoon was the only chance for some experience gathering. So we caught the bus to Carol’s and of course that meant we had to pass the boys’ gate. They were in the garden as we passed cooking up a storm on the BBQ.

Mark suddenly appeared at my side and offered to escort me to my seat. As we proceeded across the garden under protest to start with, Mark explained he’d asked Carol’s mum if they could invite us for lunch. Apparently she’d jumped at the chance of avoiding three girls yattering at the table and had even thrown in a couple of bottles of fizzy drink to boost the liquid levels.

The food was passable — I passed it to Carol and Carol passed it to Wendy and back and forth it went — we did eat some of it, but we decided that the boys must be druids and burnt offerings were the order of the day to assure that proceeding went to plan. Which was apparent when we realised there was no one else in the house. We were invited into the caravan for coffee. An invitation that made my toes curl in anticipation and my heart flutter in anxiety. I went alternately white and crimson. But into the caravan we went. The coffee for some reason seemed to be abandoned as an after dinner drink just as soon as we stepped inside. The kettle remained unplugged, but I was wired.

Mark sat down next to me and I realised that each of the girls had their own seat. I also seemed to be on the single bed edge, which made my heart jump giddily as I realised that I needed to keep at least a semblance of control or I’d end up with a guy who wanted to kick me instead of kiss me.

I turned towards him, I was going to lay the ground rules. I didn’t get to open my mouth, well I did actually, but only after my lips were sealed with his. I thoroughly enjoyed every minute of the next hundred days that it took me to get my breath back — somewhere in the middle of term I think it must have been. Mark was every inch a gentleman and I had to admit every inch of him was aware of my presence too. I couldn’t help noticing that the bulge in his pants was poles apart from what it normally looked like (I love puns like that).

I decided that I would leave well alone. I have to admit though, it was tempting to grab hold of it, but I’d decided that until I was a finished product that I would leave that sort of thing to the more forward of the species. I surreptitiously watched the others for signs of avant-garde action, but no one seemed to be going for the carrot.
I found out later that we were all waiting for the others to start the ball rolling so to speak.

I felt the soft edge of Mark’s hand as it edged towards my breast, and I gasped as he gently smoothed his palm over my nipple — it became very pronounced in my top and he decided that I liked it so added it to his repertoire — I decided I liked it too so I let him.

Like it? My God it was all I could do to stay this side of fainting. My whole body was in a state of tsunami. The blood rushed from end to end like it was trying to break free. My tingling grew and grew as he kissed me and fondled me — I was hoping it would never stop. Sadly I had to stop him as his hand suddenly decided to go South and I couldn’t afford that. When he got the stop signal, he was good enough to limit himself to above the waist, but I was wary after that and it lost the glow a bit. But it was all healthy fun and I realised that I had passed my final test for the summer — I had integrated into my new role and I felt whole (well nearly).

The return of the rest of the families put an end to the sports day and we tidied ourselves and exited like we had enjoyed our coffee. The fact we were as red as beetroots and all had beard rash, I guess the game was up — the fathers winked at their sons and the mothers regarded us to make sure we were ok. I guess we women look after each other.

The double dating technique was durable and meant that there was always someone there to make sure we weren’t forced past the line in the sand — safety in numbers. We said goodbye to the guys (they WERE going out for dinner with the others that night and were packing up early next day so we were unlikely to see them again) they promised to write and they gave us their addresses, but I had an idea that they were only being sweet so didn’t expect them to follow up on it — I was right in Mark and Steve’s case, but Carol and her Martin got back together over Christmas ( more on that later). It was sad to see them go and the kiss goodbye was, I suppose, what is known as bittersweet. I had a bit of a cry later but it was only me feeling sorry for myself — we hadn’t got involved and there was no heartbreak — well, only the odd crack here and there.

I said goodnight to Carol and Wendy and we arranged to meet next day so we could discuss school on Tuesday — Carol was going to show me the school photo and point out the nastier elements — I was willing to bet that the nasty were not anywhere near as bad as the guys. (I was wrong).

“She does what?” I asked incredulously.

“She grabs you by a breast and squeezes. If you have lunch money, you’re only too willing to give it to her.” Carol repeated, the tone obvious to anyone that it was from memory.

“She looks flat-chested,” I speculated from the photo.

“I think that’s what makes her use that tactic, she does it more if you’re ‘big’” Wendy pronounced looking about — I had about the same as them, not much, but enough to be grabbed and tortured by. I think I might retaliate if Judy got remotely close to my new appendages — they’re sore enough without some senior school bully having a go at them.

“I’ll keep a weather eye out for that, I’m not going to be bullied ANY MORE,” my voice rose to the thought. “I simply cannot tolerate Cro-Magnon politics.”

“Well what about Crouch? er Jemima. She’s gonna use her hockey stick on you for sure if you don’t let her win.” Carol pointed to a lanky spotty girl with braces.
“I don’t play sports so it’s not really relevant.”

“Oh no you don’t do you, lucky so and so.” Wendy ruminated on the other less civilised forms of pond life that inhabit most schools. “Well there’s others, but they’re only dangerous as a group and easily avoided.”

They had only really pointed out 4 girls, none of whom seemed to represent an insurmountable object — though a common theme was among them — low self esteem. I wonder if by being more senior now, they might be more civilised. I was bound to find out as I was a newbie senior and test me out they were sure to. Even if it was just for practice. I felt a cold steel resolve settle on me that I would not let ANYone bully anybody if I possibly could.

“Wow you sure look weird, did someone walk over your grave?” Carol was looking at me like I had just become snake girl.

“Sorry, I was just promising myself that I would interfere with facial shapes if I saw it happening — I hope I don’t have to put it to the test. Hey, let’s have an arm wrestle, I want to see if I’m still stronger than most girls.”

The girls could both work out what I meant so we set up a table and did a best of three for each of them against me. Carol was beefier in the arm than I was, but I easily beat her, Wendy was even weaker.

“So, I am stronger than I look eh? That could be really useful — I wonder if I will continue that way?” I grinned slyly at the girls and they chuckled.

“Heart girl beats bully into submission, I can see the headlines now…” Carol was as wicked as I was.

“I shall have to keep my trusty crutch handy eh? Tiny Tim topples towering twat.”

We started to giggle and had to give up on the discussion as we couldn’t stay serious.
Dad had mowed the lawn and washed the windows by the time I got back, “Managed to avoid the chores again I see.” Dad looked a bit askance at me — “So it’s your turn to weed the border. To be done this afternoon before we go out to dinner. Don’t ruin your nails, I want an elegant daughter to escort, not a farm labourer.” Dad grinned and raided the fridge for a deserved beer.

Being as how it was the end of the season there was a lot of dead heading to do as well and it took me a couple of hours to clear the beds of spoiled plants and I had to hurry to get changed.

“Nope, go put a dress on or at least a skirt, this is the last time before school and I want to see my daughter look her best.” Dad sent me back to my room with just the comment and a pointed finger. I love my jeans, but he was right.

I put on a pretty gypsy skirt in a soft blue and some strappy two inch sandals and a smock top, and re-presented my self. “that’s better, you look delicious”. Mum was wearing a simple scoop top and a pair of pants — I felt conspicuously overdressed — especially when Nigel appeared in a pair of casual pants and a polo shirt.

“Hey that’s not fair, I’m overdone,” I pouted a bit.

“Well it’s you everyone will be looking at, so you need to be the one that stands out, who would look at an 18 year old boy or a middle aged couple" — Who WOULDN’T look at an attractive and shapely, nubile young woman?” Dad explained to me as he snuck his arm round my shoulder and walked me to the car. I sensed his warm love surround me and I smiled up at him and kissed his cheek. “You make it worth while without anyone looking at me daddy, any but you, that is.”

Nigel make sicky noises and pretended to barf into the gutter.. “behave Nigel” was all mum said. He rolled his eyes and shook his fist at the heavens.

“Why didn’t I think of it? I could’ve been treated to a brand new wardrobe, a summer without having to get a job and no chores.” He winked at me. “Probably because in no way would I ever want to kiss a bloke or wear a bikini.” He nearly started to make barfing noises again til mum gave him the glare. We got in the car.

Dinner was noisy and slow, by the time we were served we were hot and sweaty and not in a good humour. Someone spilt his drink on my skirt and I was quite annoyed, the guy didn’t even apologise, he was too drunk to notice, I think. Mum helped me sponge off the worst of it in the ladies’. “Men, they’re all the same. Expect the ladies to be smart then abuse them when they drink too much. I’m so glad John doesn’t drink a lot.” I thought about it and I think it was the first time mum had ever related Dad as John to me. We returned to our seats and suddenly there seemed to be a lot more room and it was quieter.

“The soccer team left, and it’s considerably more peaceful now. Oh by the way, the Maitre D’ quashed your bill. 25% off the total — as a consolation for ruining your skirt. He put it on the guy’s bill — he looked over and nodded at me when he got it, so the Maitre D must have told him why.”

I felt vindicated and I smiled over at the Maitre and he waved back. Dad caught my eye and raised an eyebrow, I shrugged. Well a girl has to acknowledge her knights in shining armour.

When we got outside the football team were leaving on a coach and the guy who paid my bill came over. “I am really sorry, I overdo it sometimes, I hope the skirt isn’t ruined.”

My father took the lead and made a polite reply, “I hope so too. I also think you might have a few thoughts about how badly the media can portray a footballer who has a few too many.” The footballer looked quite abashed and I felt my dad’s care and protection covering me like a warm blanket. The bus started up and the player ran for it with a wave.

The Way Things Happen

 
 
SCHOOL
 
I tried to keep up with Sunday and Monday, but they escaped like sand through my fingers — it was time for school at last.

Tuesdays will always go down in the English history books as the day they start school — the teachers all go back on the Monday and have a confab about all the bad, good, indifferent, new and unusual students. I wondered very slightly which category I came in of the last two.

It seemed I had no need to worry, Wendy and I went together and when the bell rang we traipsed into the house rooms — I was in the same one as Wendy — I know they designed it that way since we were such good friends, I hoped Wendy wouldn’t live to regret volunteering to be my guide and mentor for the first term.

Outside we had been given hugs by classmates as I got introduced and I had been appraised by the more obviously competitive girls as possible rival maybe or dismissed, as the case may be. Since I was pretty average in terms of looks, I was just cannon fodder to most of them. Grist for the mill so to speak.

Our uniforms were good at allowing us to blend, since it covered the minor imperfections of build and development. I just looked like any other girl — which suited me just fine.

Wendy pointed out Jemima and one or two other cowans ( I think that means unbelievers — it’s my term for those who misuse others). Carol joined us briefly but as she was in a different class and house we were unlikely to meet until lunch time.
She had come in with the other girls from the pool (Joanne and Helen) and we all said hello. Joanne gave me another once over but it was only as a comparison — I felt there was no ill favour in it.

Anyway here we are in what the Americans would call ‘home room’ except that it consisted of a few girls from each year to make up the ‘house’ — about 120 girls all up were there.

The house mistress (Miss Watts), better know as ‘Millie’ (I wonder if she had a big sister named mega?), called us all to order with a whistle, stolen I think from the soccer ref. Well it was the first day — we were all boisterous (or is that gurlsterous?).

“Ok, alright, calm down, a little decorum ladies please.” She shushed with her palms and we all sat down and watched her with something less than avid attentiveness.
“Right, I’ll introduce the new girls, starting with the top.

Er, no one in the sixth form, but we have Jenny Holland in the upper fifth, stand up Jenny so we can see you.”
I coloured up and stood up and waved to the mass of bodies around me — suddenly I felt like an imposter — these were all girls…

“Do you want to say a few words Jenny?” Millie asked.

“No thanks Miss, I’m a bit shy, I’ll get to know everyone eventually.” I smiled and sat down hoping I wouldn’t be given further attention. Millie looked over her half moon glasses at me (inscrutable would describe the look — I guess she was in the know) and carried on. “Fourth Form, ok there’s two girls just arriving from Millthorpe, they stood up and one volounteered, “June Craven miss”, the other muttered something but I missed it. So did Millie. “That would be Allison Bride?”

“Yes Miss,” she coloured up worse than me and sat down.
“I understand you’re half sisters?” - I wondered how that could be unless her dad got his wife and his lover pregnant at the same time. Since they were the same age or at least in the same year. A few titters ran round the room as others realised the significance of the ages.

“No miss, I was adopted,” offered the older of the two, June. “I kept my birth mother’s name, she died when I was born.” She looked a little awkward but held her head up. The titters dried up and there were some sad sighs there to replace them.
‘Good for you June, that took courage’. I thought. It also distracted attention from me.

All the new junior year were introduced with little interest shown, but they went the rounds anyway and it meant they were all in the right house by their presence alone.
We were all given the new directives for the year and maps if we were newbies, the book of school rules with the school hymn at the front. One I’d never heard in fact.

I realised that it was all over and we were shuffling out to go to our first class of the new year.

I had not been recognised by anyone nor had I been given a weird look. I started to relax. Wendy linked arms with me and we headed off to the lockers to deposit that which we did not need - well it was an excuse to wander round a bit -

“The toilet block is over there, don’t use that block on the left, that’s where the juniors go and it pongs rotten. I don’t know what they do, but it smells like a baby’s room and a whore’s handbag at the same time.” She also pointed out that the other block was fed from outside with natural ventilation (the end of the block faced onto the games fields) meaning the occasional crafty ciggie was smoked there by those who should know better. They were not very sanitary, but they were heaps better than the ones at the boy’s school that’s for sure. They had been given a lick of paint over the hols and there was no sign of graffiti or knife marks from the frowned upon knife throwing competitions. (Those inside the toilet stayed there in case a knife was on it’s way).

All in all not the mind blast I thought it might be. Just a slightly less abused building with a better smell. (A much better smell).

Each class that first day handed out new books and we had to cover them whilst talking about what we remembered from last term — this was a chance for me to keep quiet and learn the ropes on how to talk and interact with other girls in the class.
An education in itself.
“We were doing calculus last term — anyone remember what the basics were?” The mistress asked.

“Keep your head down and make sure you never got picked to answer a question miss.” Came from a nice looking girl with frameless glasses and an abundance of brown hair. There were a few giggles and ‘miss’ smirked and said, “Oh sure, there’s you Carmen, top of the class — straight A’s since kindergarten, I often wondered how you got there.”

More giggles and then someone volunteered some relevant info and we chatted about it some more. I liked the respect the teacher gave the girls and the respect that was returned — it didn’t happen in Boy’s school — the teacher was seldom respected and he seldom showed any either. I wondered what socialisation skills were lost by the negativity that that bred. That particular answer would certainly have earned a boy several sheets of ‘lines’, or even a taste of the cane (still just legal in that era).

By the end of the day, we’d troughed our lunches, made friends or enemies where we had to or wanted too, picked up a load of reading to make sure we knew the stuff from last year (since I was actually a little ahead, I had no problems with the set tasks and dismissed them from the front of my mind) and settled into our new role as slightly bigger fish in the gene pool. My new found organisational skills as a girl (really — I had no idea how easy it was until I tried) made the logging of homework and assignments easier to track.

Carol, Wendy and I caught one of the many buses back to our suburb and chatted about our day overall — Carol decided that we were more important than her classmates and she told us she’d rather come home with us than go with Helen and Joanne on the other bus. They were a bit out of Carol’s way anyway so it was more reasonable to go with us. We had to pass her gate coming home anyway, even though we didn’t in the morning (circular route)

We were making alliances that would probably last us the rest of our lives if we did but know it. I was comfortable with these two and Helen and Joanne made up the famous five, as it were, for more serious expeditions (like to the next major town or city for shopping or shows — Liverpool in this case.)

For the first time in my life I was part of a set of peers, I was identifiable as one of a group. It happened also to be a slightly elite group being the Girls Grammar School.
(Author’s note, this was before the days of sleepovers in UK and there were only a few malls in some of the more major cities)

We paused at Carol’s gate and hugged, “see you tomorrow, will you be on our bus or will you go on the normal one?” I asked, wondering if she would take the easiest one or meet with us.

“I’ll wait at your stop — it’s easier — the other bus is closer, but it takes a longer route, I’ll only catch that if the heavens open.” Carol wiggled her fingers and closed the gate behind her. We headed home.

I hugged Wendy at the gate, (I got used to that really fast and I felt bonded to the girls because of it) “I’ll give you a ring later if there’s any new news, of course I won’t have a bar of any gossip.” There’s another thing I was getting used to, double-speak.

Mum was in and I got the same hug from her, she held me by the shoulders and looked into my eyes, “so tell me, did everything go OK? No one gave you a hard time?”

I smiled back at her and placed my hands on hers crossing my arms across my chest. “No one thinks I’m anything more than what I appear. I’ve made some new pals and I fit in fine.” I suddenly felt like I had come home — in a different sense to coming home if you understand. I felt like I had found my niche. I snuggled a little closer for a moment wrapping my arms around mum’s waist and clasping them at her back— it’s sometimes really nice to be able to just be loving.

I thought about the day and found that nothing had made me feel bad or sad or anxious. Better by far than boys’ school.

“Thanks mum, I feel much better just being there.”

“Well go and get out of your uniform and we’ll get some tea ready for pop when he gets home — Nigel is still working at the restaurant — he’ll not be home til late. Oh and by the way, you look like you’ve been wearing that uniform for years. That is so funny, I can barely remember what you looked like coming home before.

“It still looks brand new to me, but I know what you mean. The past is lost in a mist that becomes more impenetrable by the day. It makes me happy as well. I don’t really want to remember the bad bits.”

I went up and changed — I stood in my room looking into the full length mirror I felt a rush of blood and my eyes smarted for a moment — a feeling of joy and complex emotions to do with being able to see myself as a normal girl swept over me. I slipped on a T and my jeans — which were fitting me oh so much better than they used to.

School took on an air of normality and I soon got used to the routine — civilised whilst in class and cultured whilst in the company of my peers. Growing up was proving to be a nice thing to do as a girl.

Nigel moving to Gran’s was a lot more traumatic than I expected, and we spent two weekends moving his stuff. It wasn’t really necessary to do it before the move to Australia, but it was a longish way for Nigel to get to Uni from our place and only a bus ride from Gran’s and they had lots of spare space too. Mum had promised to leave her car for him when we left for the Antipodes so he was well chuffed. Not that it was anything more than an A to B sort of car — being a slightly older Morris 1100. But it was a car and not many had their own at uni.

When we’d got all his stuff moved, he treated us to a meal at the restaurant he’d worked at all summer — he got a great discount too.

I got to wear a rather lovely mid thigh dress and Nigel escorted me and Dad escorted mum, I felt pretty good about that and Nigel made me feel quite grown up and almost like his girlfriend — though I’m not sure if that was a compliment. I don’t think that I could ever fancy my brother — I wonder how that works…

Nigel gave me a huge hug and kissed me on the lips (thankfully only a peck, but it was a true acceptance of my reality) and quietly spoke.

“Listen kiddo, I may not have been the best brother in the world, and I put you down a lot as a guy ( he suddenly looked around to check no one had heard — which considering we were stood on the pavement by Gran’s door was rather funny), but you are one hell of a sister and I love you heaps — don’t let anyone hurt you and if some one does, let me know and I’ll make them regret it. Oh and thanks for all the help moving.”

“I can fight my own battles Nige, but thank you,” I was actually quite overcome, he was still holding me in a hug and our faces were only a few inches apart, I kissed him on the mouth, just a sisterly peck and he let me go with a strangely beneficent smile. He regarded me, like he was trying to memorise what I looked like for future reference

Smile.

“Ok, we seem to be better as brother and sister, and that’s really quite astounding, take care little sister, I love you,” he held my right hand in his left and gently squeezed as he let it go. I smiled and turned away before the tears came to my eyes. I was sniffling before I got to the car.

Nige hugged mum and shook dad’s hand and waved as we started up the car and pulled away.

I could see mum’s shoulders shaking from the back seat and put my hand on her shoulder in support, she placed hers on top and sniffed a couple of times. “If you ever have kids, remember this day — when the first one leaves home — it is not easy to let even the male offspring go! I’m certainly not looking forward to you leaving, it seems I only just found you.”

I eventually had to pull my hand back as my back was getting cramped but by then mum was ok.

When we got home, even though Nigel didn’t spend much time there over the last three months, it seemed somehow more empty, and less full of life.

“Mum, can you feel that, like there’s something missing?” I asked as she bustled about making some tea.

She plonked down into the chair nearest her like her legs had been cut off, and burst into tears again, geez am I insensitive or what? I ran over to her and hugged her. “I’m glad you can feel it too, it means a lot to have you here darling,” she put her arm round my waist and hugged me back, “come on let’s get dad a cuppa — he’s probably a bit low too.”

We went through to the lounge with a plate of biscuits and some tea and dad was there with his feet up watching the cricket. Almost asleep too.

I looked at mum and rolled my eyes and shook my head — so did mum — we grinned at each other and sat down noisily — Dad had inadvertently broken the bad mood and we felt much better.

As Wendy, Carol and I got into school on the Monday I told them about Nigel going to uni and they told me that life would be easier from now on. Though I didn’t really understand what they meant. I asked them to explain. Wendy volunteered “there will be less mess, less noise and less smell as the smallest of advantages, there’ll be reasonably sized meals as he hasn’t stolen half for snacks, no one pinching all the biscuits or pop ( soda), no one drinking milk straight from the bottle. There’d be less washing up, less laundry and less tidying in the lounge.

There’ll be no wet smelly kit in the bathroom, no wet seat on the toilet, and no scum in the bath. The bathroom mirror won’t have smears of unidentifiable ick on them.
The doors won’t have hand marks all down the edge.

I started to laugh and before long I was on my knees in hysterics. She was absolutely spot on. I thought of his pongy sneakers in the laundry and the stale smell of sweat from his sports kit.

Whilst it was lovely to have a brother, there were disadvantages too I guess.
I went to the first class with a sense of balance that I hadn’t had til then.

“Hey you, come here.” I looked across the toilet at the only other person there, she was obviously talking to me.

“What?” I looked at her not quite understanding her tone.

“I said come here” she repeated imperiously.

“I should coco,” I answered, dried my hands and walked away from her towards the door. I flicked a look in the mirror at her as I opened the door, she was red faced and had a look of rage and clenched fists. I ignored her.

“You’ll keep missy.” Jemima had noticed me. Strangely I was not in the least concerned.

Jemima had a little clique of not very nice friends. Jemima herself was a lanky girl with a pale complexion, a bit spotty at different times of the month — She was a bit athletic but not overly so, but made one of the forwards for the school hockey team.
Her friends, Melissa, Rachel and Sophi were just a bunch of average to ignorant girls who had sufficient IQ to make the grade — which also made them a bit dangerous.

Sophi the slightly overweight second in command of the group was angry all the time, like she’d been dealt the short straw. Her florid cheeks had all the signs of high blood pressure and stress. I wondered slightly if she was suffering from some form of personality disorder.

I had noticed this crew quite early in the piece as Wendy had pointed ‘Jemima’ out to me in way of a warning that she was a hostile (the boob squeezer mentioned earlier). Which is why I steered clear of her in the toilet. I was not into anger and didn’t want to give anyone a chance of spoiling my time in school.

After the last class was over and Wendy and I reorganised our books at our lockers, Jemima and her cohorts were sauntering past in that special way we all understand as looking for strife. Jemima barged me so I caught my head on the locker door and made it ring. She sniggered and looked me in the eye as I shook my hair back and resumed my stance in front of the locker. I looked her right back in the eye without the slightest fear, which disconcerted her a bit. “Watch where you’re going Jemima,”

I held my head up waiting for the next move, her hand came up to my breast and I caught it before she had a chance to grab me. “Ah ah, boyfriends only I’m afraid.” I jerked her hand so she smacked herself in the breast. Her eyes opened in surprise and she gasped. She stepped back really shocked, “You’re going to regret that, bitch.”

Her friends hadn’t seen the attempted grab or the retaliation and were looking a bit askance, not realising what had happened. Wendy was on the other side of the group so saw even less.

“Listen missy,” I said stepping up and grabbing her by the blouse and swinging her round, crashing her back noisily into the lockers, “where I come from you put up or shut up. If you want to hang one on, MISSY, be prepared for scar tissue and no sports for a month or two, OK?”

Before the red flush had backed off from Jemima’s neck and her friends had had a chance to react, a voice of Authority came over my shoulder. “Miss Holland! my office, NOW! Miss Crouch you may go!” Jemima sniggered as she slunk away. Her friends trailing like hyenas or jackals.

I felt like I’d just made the biggest mistake of my life — I’d used boy tactics in the girls’ school. I thought I’d got it weighed off, obviously I hadn’t.

I looked at Miss Watts as she marched off towards her office, obviously expecting me to follow in her wake. I looked abashed at Wendy, “Wait for me, huh?” she nodded.

I stepped into Miss Watts’ office and the door closed behind me. She was stood quietly behind me. I remained facing her desk as she circled towards her side. She looked less than pleased.
“Sit-t!” she insisted, almost like dog training…..

I moved towards the hard chair and perched on the edge, looking into her face for a sign of what was to come — rage or anger, spite or merciless revenge.

Instead she smiled. My eyes opened a little wider and she smiled a little more.
“I’ve been waiting a long time for someone to do that,” she leaned back grinning.
“I watched her as she planned that attack on you, she was waiting for you , you know.” She confided. “What did you do to offend her?”

“Oh I just ignored her in the toilet earlier” I confided reluctantly, I didn’t really want to fight my conscience as well by ratting on a ‘fellow’ student.

Millie seemed to sense my reluctance to divulge the story, “It doesn’t really matter, she was just trying to assert her authority over a newbie. You’ve busted that one wide open I think, but I have an idea it won’t end there unless you can strip her of her cronies.” Miss Watts was actually plotting — I couldn’t believe it.

“Find a way of converting her friends, and you’ll have stopped in one day something that I’ve been trying to do for five years.

Keep your eyes open on the way home and do some thinking, if you need a hand, or some information or advice, you know where I am.” She paused waiting for the effect of her words. “Off you go now, your friend is waiting. Oh, and try not to make a habit of it.”

I looked at her with open admiration, this was a clever and intelligent woman who had treated me with more respect than anyone in my other school for the last four years.
I didn’t even know if she knew my background. She didn’t look like she was on the point of telling me if she did either.

“Thank you miss, I’ll work on it.” I moved towards the door and she rose and smiled at me again.

“Keep me in the loop, Jenny.” Her voice softened to a friendly confidante’s tone.

“I will, Miss.” I opened the door and left.

Wendy was outside the office pacing up and down like she expected I’d be sent down for ten years hard labour. She was more than surprised that I was out of the office in less than five minutes. She looked at me with eyes like saucers.

“What did you get?” she asked huskily almost tearfully.

“Some advice on how to make sure Jemima isn’t able to get back at me and a big smile,” I grinned at Wendy’s face as her mouth opened like the Mersey tunnel, “You didn’t?” she squealed and hugged me like I was Goddess on a stick.

“Millie reckoned Jem had it coming and was happy to see it happen. She did tell me to keep it low profile though, so mum’s the word, OK?” Wendy nodded. I broke the embrace reluctantly and we turned for home — we had missed the first bus, but that didn’t matter — we’d drop off at Carol’s and tell her the news anyway.

Carol was as incredulous as Wendy had been. I’d taken on Heroine proportions in only a couple of weeks in High School.

“Where do Sophi and Jemima live? I need to see if I can devise some plots to drive a wedge between her and Jemima.”

“Sophi lives in the street behind the car place — um Fletcher’s in George St I think.”
Carol offered. “I’ve seen her there when my dad picks up the car from servicing.”

“Jemima lives down by the park another two blocks over, I think.” Wendy added helpfully.

“Ok, I need to check out the lie of the land, I guess it’ll have to wait for the weekend.”
I thought about the tactics but they needed much more planning and after all, I had plenty of time — I hoped..

“You’re late honey, everything Ok?” The enquiry from mum wafted through as I closed the front door. “Yeah, just had a chat with Miss Watts about a bully at school,”
I attempted to pass it off whilst giving enough information so as to make sure that I’d mentioned it fully.

“Well come on then, tell me all about it,” mum was sat polishing the silver at the table with her apron as if she had nothing better todo. “You already know about it don’t you?”

Mum smirked at me, “sorry pet, I do. I got a call from Millie about 20 mins ago — she thought I should know what the ‘go’ is. I didn’t tell you did I? I was in college with her — we were even in the same digs.”

“I .., wha.., does she know about me?” I asked, somehow I felt violated like a trust had been broken.

Mum nodded, “Yes she knew before school started — it’s one of the reasons you’re in her House. She wanted to make sure you were treated properly.” She looked at me trying to see if I was going to be hurt by the knowledge. I was a bit, though the reasons mollified it somewhat.

“I hope she doesn’t let it slip — God I’d hate the other teachers to know.” I felt choked and a little nauseous that I might have to spend two years being treated like a pariah (if we didn’t end up going to Australia)

“No they don’t know. Millie…” she stopped suddenly “ did you know, we’ve called her that since you were born or before even”. She continued. Millie even did all the name changing for me so that the others wouldn’t see. No one knows except her.”
Mum looked at me for a moment then continued. “Your weak heart is not gong to be much of an excuse after beating up the school bully is it?” Her rueful grin was enough to set me giggling and the tension dissipated quite suddenly as I laughed out loud.

“Well hopefully they won’t put two and two together.” I crossed my fingers and rolled my eyes heavenward in supplication. The headline I had spoken about to Carol and Wendy had it seemed come to pass.

I sensed watchfulness from Jemima and crew whenever I saw them — there were plots hatching, I was convinced, so I kept low profile as much as I could, though I was getting all sorts of slaps on the back for the turning of the tables — and the Chinese Whispers were quite amazing — in one I had actually beaten up Jemima and her cronies all at once — like Superwoman. The fact of my getting off with Miss Watts didn’t ride well with some and I got those back as well. About me blackmailing the staff and stuff — well it went with the gangster image… I just tried to live it all down.
Things quietened down after a day or two …

On the weekend I went down to see where Sophi lived — it was like a terrace that backed onto the car place not terribly salubrious, but clean and tidy and quite respectable, though noisy and smelly from the cars that were being serviced all the time.

It didn’t help — there was nothing I could use here — so I went down to the Park and had a look at that area — well it was as different as chalk and cheese. Jemima’s folks were probably loaded. I wondered why she was so spiteful, she had it all by the looks of the area.

I went home and chatted to mum about it.

“I can’t understand why Jemima would be so awful mum, she seems to be living in the lap of luxury if the area is anything to go by.”

“Well there’s a few things that go with that sort of money — driving ambition can caused neglect and often manipulation goes hand in glove with privilege and power.” Mum added sagely.

“You mean you think Jemima might be oppressed by her parents or bullied the same way she’s bullying the students?” It made sense to me.

“Well, we are the result of our upbringing in many cases. Unless she’s taught different ways of being a person, she’s likely to be like her parents. Good, bad or indifferent”

I reflected on this, found nothing I could relate to and switched track to Sophi.
I explained the difference in standards and the environment.

Mum mused for a minute, “sounds like Sohpi doesn’t get a chance for peace and quiet — perhaps she doesn’t get enough sleep with all those cars revving up all the time. That would sure make me angry.”
I thought about it for a while and decided that I needed more information.

It wasn’t until I was watching the television that night that I got the idea.
The plot was a bit thick but the outcome was someone had committed suicide by gassing themselves in the car. The person was saved but the symptoms of carbon monoxide poisoning were evident — loss of energy, florid complexion and hypertension.
Sophi was being poisoned by the car yard.

I went over the next day and the car yard was still open servicing the vehicles — I looked at Sophi’s house and her bedroom I surmised, was the one that was on the back of the house overlooking the yard — the other two were on the front. The back yard had a high wall which probably stopped a lot of the noise enetering the living room — Sophi’s wndow was open.

The smell of exhaust was pretty bad even though there weren’t too many cars being worked on — then a clatter started up and the two old stock cars were brought out of the shed near the back of Sophi’s — the blue smoke from the old engines was obvious and made me cough just looking at it.

I think I had seen enough. I went home and told mum; dad overheard.
“You mean you think Sophi is being gassed by the car exhausts?” Dad looked a bit incredulous and dismissive.

“It’s all I can think of, you ought to see it.” I urged.
“Ok, I will. Come on, into the car. We’ll go and look right now.” Once dad had a bee in his bonnet it stung him til he moved!

“Well I’m blowed,” he said, watching the roiling blue smoke as it drifted on the wind past Sophi’s house. “I think you may be right, well done my girl” the girl bit sounded good!!!

When we got home dad phoned the fire brigade and asked them to test the fumes at the car yard. They said they’d get round to it, so dad upped the ante. He said he suspected there was a young girl being poisoned by it and they should make it soon. They said they were on their way!!

The next day Sophi wasn’t at school and the group was being a bit quieter without the anger that was generated by her.

The next day Sophi was back and she actually came over to me and she looked loads better — her face was a lot less blotchy and red.
She told me what happened.

The inspectors had come over on the Sunday and tested the air in the yard. Then done a house to house testing the houses for fumes. Sophi’s being at the bottom end in the prevailing wind direction had it worst and her bedroom was the worst in the whole place. She’d just come home at that point and the medico had instantly got her admitted to hospital for treatment — which really amounted to oxygen treatment for 36 hours until her blood count went up.

They had said that she owed her health to a young girl who had reported it. ME!
It was in the midweek rag the next day.

About ten am someone came into the class and asked if I could go to miss Watt’s office. I wondered what was up and expected Millie wanted to chat to me about Sophi.

I was indirectly right, it was about the car yard.
As soon as I got to Millie’s office she ushered me back out and told me we were off to see the headmistress. I looked worried.
“No it’s ok, it’s a nice visit, not a nasty one.” She smiled at me and patted me on the shoulder.

When we were led into the office by the secretary there were two men there as well as the headmistress. Behind me another man came in. I almost felt trapped.
“This is the young lady that found the problem and instigated the checks, Jenny Holland.” The head gestured towards me and before I could even decipher the input, there was a flash of camera and a click.
The man next to me apparently was the Mayor and the other was the Chief Medical Officer of the area. I was not a happy camper. The last thing I wanted was a picture of me in the papers. “Please don’t take any pictures,” I yelled as tears came to my eyes. Suddenly Miss Watts grabbed me to her and shielded my face from the camera.

“That’s enough gentlemen, her wish is for no publicity, that’s good enough for me.”
The Headmistress was a bit stunned. “Miss Watts, I hope you can explain what’s going on?”
“Later Headmistress if that’s Ok, let’s just say that Jenny has good reasons.” Millie whispered to the Head. The Head acquiesced

“Well I hope we can use your name?” The newspaper man quipped, I nodded.
So the “thank you” was all staged and conducted so that my face wasn’t photo’ed.
The Mayor was really nice and said he wished everyone cared as much as I obviously did — Miss Watts just winked at me. The medical officer said he was pleased that I had used my intelligence and connected the symptoms and the cause. “Not many people actually learn anything during TV shows.” He added with a note of dismay.

So I ended up with a pat on the back and Sophi as a pal, but the best thing I had done was disrupt the team of Jemima and nullified her vitriol.

Miss Watts was very happy about the whole affair and relayed via mum that she was really happy that I was such a nice girl and was sure I would make my mark on the school.

Wendy, Carol and I laughed about it all weekend. The pictures in the paper all showed the back of my head or at most just a little of my nose.

I have to admit it was nice to be recognised at least in school, but I didn’t want to be recognised by my old classmates and heckled every time I went anywhere.

I asked Millie what she told the headmistress. “Oh, just that camera flashes had caused a fit when you were younger — it was something to do with the reason you couldn’t do sports. She seemed to be able to accept that. So hopefully, no harm done.”
Miss Watts is NEAT!

I had an appointment with Julie the next Tuesday and she laughed when I recounted the tale of the photos and she asked if I felt I was fitting in ok.

“What do you feel is most important to you in the next few months?” She asked peering at me over her pencil held between her two forefingers.

“I guess working on my Nobel Peace Prize acceptance speech and the Presentation of the OBE at the Christmas Honours.” I spoke softly peering through my eyelashes at her and trying to hold in the grin.

“Seriously now Jenny, this is important. I need to feel how you’re moving forward and I need to be able to write something on your rap sheet.” She advised, but not without the smile.

“Oh, sorry,” I thought you were doing the “how does it make you feel”, bit,” I felt a little embarrassed to be wasting her time, to be honest.

“I guess two things spring to mind: preparing myself mentally for having my operation and being able to get sufficiently ahead in school to be able to not worry about getting behind during it and my recovery.” I managed all in one breath.
Julie scribbled my answer on her pad.
“And you’re not worrying about the operation?” She further enquired.

“Well actually, I think I have it as a point in my life but I don’t think it is that significant. After all, I already have my passport and Birth Certificate and I’ve been reclassified as a female - what I have really is a slight deformity isn’t it?” I looked at her with my quizzy face and tried to get her to answer me.

“Do you feel that you are female already then?” She added, pencil poised.
“Of course, don’t you?”

“Well yes, but it’s not how I feel that’s important here. It’s how you’re coping with the unusual circumstance. How you sleep at night, how you relate to your friends and how you act with your peers and parents. How your brother feels and how you feel about him.”

“I feel normal, like me and probably a normal girl like any other I guess. I know I am not allowed to do any sports but I will be able to next year and I will be able to do most things a normal girl can do, except have babies after that.” I felt a little under the spotlight at that point. It’s difficult to be grilled about who you are sometimes especially when you feel you’ve had to justify yourself time and time again.

“I’m not especially fond of being interrogated really,” I said pouting a bit, “I feel that I have been treated ok up to now, but I also feel that further justification is not only not necessary, but hurtful, maybe even harmful. I really don’t like having to do this.” I looked into her eyes, seeing a little uncertainty about what I meant.

“I don’t mind coming to see you and chatting for a little while so you can see I’m stable and still looking forward to my op, but I also am coming to the belief that your system is too full of hoops to jump through. Why do you feel it is needed to make me feel guilty by asking how I feel all the time?”

I sensed then that I had crossed a line that perhaps I shouldn’t have, I sensed Julie withdrawing and being a bit clinical in her appraisal. She wrote a few lines.

“I’m going to read out what I just wrote this will be going in my report to the surgeon and the other Psychiatrist you will see before your op.”

“Jenny has transitioned better than any case I have yet seen, her maturity and acceptance of her self is astonishing. She is stable and completely at one with her female role.
Any medical professional that is involved should bear in mind that she is in no way to be approached as a transitioning male to female transsexual. She should be regarded as a female with a defect that has to be rectified.” She looked up at me, “Is that a fair assessment?”

I nodded, afraid to use my voice in case it cracked. I smiled through some glistening in my eye.
“That is in fact the truth of the matter, and I’m prepared to back that to the hilt, I should have known better than to keep following guidelines that obviously don’t apply to you.” She looked almost guilty. She rose and asked mum to come in.

“I’m going to see Jenny again, as I said, every month till Christmas. That’s three visits left. Unless there’s some obvious change, I’m not going to do more than log the fact that she attended and remains a normal female awaiting surgery. We will just have a chat each time”

“I feel that sometimes the medical system oversteps the mark and makes the client feel that justice is not being served. I feel that mark has been overstepped in this case — I’m just stating the case as I see it.

Your little girl is lovely and she’s a nice person all the way to the core. You’re a very lucky mum Beth. See you in a month.”

Mum put her arm round me and we walked out of the surgery into the sunshine. I felt like the sand that became concrete beneath my feet over the last months was now bed rock and granite, part of me and a structure on which to build my life

The Way Things Happen

 
 
The Male of The Species
 
My father for all his wonderful attributes can sometimes be called stupid. It appears that the higher the IQ, the less likely is a person to be able to step outside of narrowly defined paths.

Such it was when Daddy inadvertently let the cat out of the bag. He did it with his usual aplomb — to the one I really didn’t want to know. The headmistress.

I had gotten over the huge rainbow that Julie had flung at me and had achieved ground level without serious injury to my greatly enlarged head.

Then the usual meeting with the parents and teachers at mid term reared its head and I felt that I needed to be there to make sure all was indeed Ok as I was led to believe — Hey, anxiety and neuroses go hand in hand with paranoia — didn’t you know?

It was really a bit early in the term, but because we were doing the ‘O’ level year we got to be the first to go through the mill about the future and how we were coping.

Yes, that night of nights, thrill of thrills — the night where your IQ and parents expectations are weighed in the balance. Parent/Teacher night. I almost convinced Mum and Dad that it wasn’t much use going since I was not going to complete the year, but they insisted saying that the thing they wanted to do was chat to the teachers and see how well I was integrating (no, not the maths teacher type integrating, the social skills type girly thing).

“We’ll be there at 4pm as scheduled on my diary,” Daddy was never late so I didn’t have a second thought - 4 pm it was.

I didn’t worry all day, simply come in, meet the teachers and take me home after being told what a wonderful student I was.

The headmistress had apparently put out a special request to my housemistress (Miss Watts) that she would love to meet my folks.

So 4 pm arrived there they were, waiting in the rec room. I took them round to each teacher in turn and they all said what a nice young lady I was and how polite and how much of an impression I’d made on the younger ones in my first term and so on and so forth.

Miss Watts was last and mum was gossiping like mad with her catching up on the whole thing when the Head came into the room — Millie looked up and saw her and waved and she made a bee line for us.

“Headmistress, I’d like you to meet the parents of our new fifth form student Jenny Holland. Beth and John Holland, this is our headmistress Janette Bates.” Mum stretched out her hand and it was clasped warmly by the Head. “I’m so glad to make your acquaintance Mrs Holland, your girl is such a wonderful addition to our student body, where was she before?”

Wait for it…. “King Edward’s Grammar” said my dear daddy. The look on everyone’s face and the silence that ensued made that small name seem like an express train mixing it with a airliner. My face looked like something Wallace and Grommet would be proud of. Miss Watts went a strange shade of grey — being as how she was the one who altered the books a bit. And Dad’s face crumpled like a tissue thrown into a hot fire. Mum just went a bit green and stopped breathing for an hour or two.
“Oh? Tell me Mr Holland, how long has King Edwards been taking girls?” That last syllable was hurled out in a rather harsh and clattering manner that meant she was not amused.

“ Don’t tell me you don’t know where your wonderful little girl went before she arrived here?” She looked down her nose at my father.

“Oh of course, Nigel went there didn’t he?” Father squirmed like a worm on a hook,

“Daddy!” I smacked him on the arm playfully as if chiding him– “it was St Margaret’s you should remember that, you used to have to take me when it was raining because the bus stop didn’t have a shelter.” (I’d done my research)

Mum rolled her eyes and Millie decided ignoring the fact was the best bet.

“Mr Holland, it has been the case often enough in my experience that fathers do not take sufficient interest in their female offspring. It seems this is the case now, though your dear daughter doesn’t feel offended by your lack of interest. I, however, am appalled and I think you should be upbraided for your singular lack of fatherly care.”

Dad spluttered and kept very quiet–we all did.

“Mrs Holland, you have my sympathy, good day to you both.” The stiff view of her back was the last daddy ever saw of her–he wasn’t game to meet her again.

When she had safely departed, we all started grinning then giggling then full blown laughing until we all shushed each other as other parents were filtering into the room.

Daddy was so apologetic, I got the most wonderful meal at the Italian restaurant and even my own glass of wine.

“God John, you almost blew it, and we’ve been so careful. We avoided telling her because she’s a member of the far right God squad conservatives and believes in binary gender and total heterosexuality.”

Dad looked at me and reached out his hand across the table, “Little Jenny, I promise you that I will endeavour never to open my mouth without thinking ever again. What I did was unforgivable and I am contrite to the point of self loathing. I nearly jeopardised your future by engaging mouth before putting my brain into gear. I am sorry.” His eyes shone with that light that means everything to the person to whom it is directed. I gripped his hand and held it to my chest.

“I love you daddy,” was all I could say.
Disaster averted.

I just hope that there are no more slip ups where the Head is concerned, once is a mistake, twice is a red card and third time, you’re sent off.

School is a magic place if you’re liked and a miserable place if you’re not. For some it is the temple of learning, for others seemingly a waste of precious hours of freedom.
The difference also can be contained in a few ideologies — that of single gender schooling, goal oriented learning and the philosophy of continuance.
In 1980 all these things were changing. The students became pawns in the state dictated changes. Comprehensive education which the Socialists thought up. Corporal punishment abolishment — also a socialist dictate that went along with the new teach the air and whatever settles on the children will drive them like a thirst to knowledge. Pure bunkum which is slowly eroding the greatness of British education.

Continuance was abandoned — change became the watchword and the students became confused.

When a body of people become confused, it turns to chaos and unless someone with a sense of order is in charge, Brownian motion takes over. The students spend more time bouncing off ideas than actually learning anything. We were fortunate in that a lot of our teachers were old school and taught the same stuff no matter what was in the new statute books.

No boy would ever sully the halls of our school except in “6th form privileges” where once a month they had a disco and a film night for the 6th form of the boys grammar school — my old school. The film was usually an educational thing and the disco was educational too but only for the attendees as it was after hours and only for 6th form.
Which I wasn’t of course.

We did occasionally see that some of the 6th formers were experimenting sexually with their peers as we were nauseated by things left behind in quiet places. It wasn’t easy to ignore as the juniors used to giggle and squeal and poke sticks at them. It was usually wise to let someone on the 6th form committee know ASAP so they could take decent steps to clear up.

It did make for some crude jokes though and I was surprised that the girls were equally as crude as the guys were in that respect. I was intrigued enough to be curious about who was ‘getting it on’ in somewhere as regimented as a girls’ high school.

It was pretty easy to tell as the sixth formers were all party to who was drilling who and all you had to do was hang out in a toilet stall and keep your feet off the floor (there was a gap under the doors so you could see feet if it was occupied — occupied meant you didn’t chat about sensitive stuff; little pigs have big ears.)

It appeared that Rachel, one of Jemima’s offsiders, was one of the regular offenders. Which was not surprising really. She was pretty average and had a mouth full of metal like Jaws. I guess kissing her would be like chewing a mouthful of meccano. Not that I really felt like kissing girls much these days — all that seemed to have taken a back seat to the guys - I realised that my dreams of being locked in a girls’ changing room were now more of a nightmare rather than an erotic fantasy.

The converse wasn’t true either — being locked in a male changing room was something of a sickening memory of disgusting smells and poor taste in jokes and underwear. Much the same as being in a guys toilet. I was never so pleased as the first time I went in a ladies’ toilet in a pub and found a piece of soap in the sink and a stack of clean tissues and even a bit of carpet.

The male toilets were more like the wart hog wallow, stainless steel urinals of dubious cleanliness — some strange crystal doughnuts that were hung or just dropped in the bottom — presumably made from camphor and covered up the smell of male urine.
The most sickening part is somewhat a part of any household that contains males in quantity. Semi dried flecks all around any surface at which a guy points himself when relieving the pressure.

In a public toilet, this could be any and all parts of the room, so the floor would be sort of semi dried and stinking. A memory I would rather purge.

Any tissues would be liberally strewn around and unusable. Any bin, full to overflowing.

I hold these truths to be unfalteringly true, all men are pigs in their own space. Sad but true.

Which is course why we find these execrable things scattered around the grounds after 6th form day.

Men smell funny too because the school feels odd and charged with an odd atmosphere the next day. Particularly the Social centre where the meetings take place.
This is something I didn’t notice at home because Daddy and Nigel have always been there.

So the social and educational element of school was in flux and not all the staff were pleased it was so. Partitions went up and it seemed that the top streams were seen as elitist and the lower streams contained the no hopers. Considering this school had the best students in the county, it was a foolish notion but it was something that was allowed to permeate to create a competitive edge to the curriculum.

I knew this existed at the boys school but it was accepted that the cleverer boys would go to the best universities and the others would become the craftsmen and middle managers of the real world.

In a girls school, the energy is different and the realisation that we would all be marrying and having babies at some point — made things less distinctive.

I was a newbie in every way, new to girldom, new to this culture of change and new to the way girls operated in a learning environment — it felt strange but wonderful — I was free to grow mentally and I found my interests changing and my mind budding like a flower.

I wanted to help everyone and I wanted to be liked.

This didn’t always happen. Jemima had become a real enemy and Miss Watts was glad that Sophi wasn’t part of her coven any more. I wondered about Jemima until I realised that she had no home life — her parents were high achievers and her life was called a latch-key existence, she went home let herself into an empty home and waited for the rest of the family to get home — whereupon some form of meal would be prepared and eaten then everyone would disperse to do their thing.

For a teenage girl this could be disaster — for Jemima it was.

Rachel it appeared was not the only one that was making out with the boys and Jemima’s frequent rushes to the toilet and porcelain worshipping in the mornings soon had her pegged as a prospective teen mother.

Her parents took her out of school during the autumn term — and she wasn’t seen again.

Peace returned to the school. Threats were made and the appearance of prophylactics became a very unusual occurrence.

At weekends we (Carol, Wendy and I) would often sally forth into town and after coffee at ‘Grounds’ we’d do some shopping in the local department stores and get ogled at by the lads gathered in town centre and do all the things young girls did. Things I had to learn.

One day as we left ‘Grounds’ three lads were just about to come in, they gave us a leer and an hello and followed us up the street with their eyes until we were out of earshot and they went inside.

I found this to be a hoot and usually when this happened I’d flirt a bit or wiggle my bum like a ‘bad’ girl. This time I nearly died. One of the guys was the guy I used to sit next to in class. Friends of David and Tony. The others I recognised as his brother and his cousin.

I hoped he hadn’t recognised me — for some reason I’d pretty much gotten away with being recognised (even by my brother) as my old self — I guess you see what you expect to see if it’s girl shaped and cute, it’s unlikely to be the guy you sat next to in school.

We’d sallied down the road apiece when I realised the lads had come out of the café and were now about 50 yards behind us and gaining.

“What do we do?” I started to panic.

“Quick, in here,” Carol grabbed my arm and pushed Wendy ahead of her — into the local swimming baths. “The toilets have an exit on the other street,” she declared as she used Wendy to barge open the door to the rest rooms just as the boys entered the baths behind us.
We ran through the toilets and exited immediately into the street on the other side, hoping the boys would wait for a while before giving up.
We headed straight into the Shopping Arcade next to the baths and lost ourselves in the nearest ladies fashion shop.

We kept an eye out for the lads but we didn’t see them again.

As we headed for home on the bus, Wendy reached for my hand and clasped it in hers. “Look Jenny, we don’t mind covering for you and we love having you as a friend, but you need to lower your guard a bit or we’ll never get boyfriends this year!”

I looked Wendy in the eye and could see she was concerned for me but a little mad at me too. “Sorry - really, I am just so scared that my past will catch up with me. I know those guys and they would see through me quite quickly if they spent time with me.”

I realised then that I had to bite the bullet and work out a strategy — I liked guys and I think I would really like a boyfriend, the reality was I was carrying baggage and I needed to dump it quick.

“What can I do, you’ve got to help me — I don’t know how to be with guys as a girl.”
Carol looked at me and I could see the compassion in her eyes but the firm line of her jaw told me that she was also getting weary of protecting me.

“I think we should find you a guy who doesn’t know you and you can date for a while to get you up to speed. We’re not really that far ahead and we have problems too, but we’re not paranoid.” Carol explained, carefully avoiding being too harsh with her tone.

Wendy nodded in agreement, “I think that’s a great idea, I don’t think we’d have too much trouble finding you a beau, then we can get some for ourselves.”

“You mean you’re going to try to find me a guy before you look for one for yourselves?” I asked carefully, thinking I’d misheard. These aren’t friends, they’re heroines, angels. “God, you’re really ace pals to have around.”

I felt really loved. “Do I have right of veto?”

“Of course, you silly moo. We’re not going to throw you to the wolves or some spotty individual. We’re going to find you a nice boy with good manners. If such a thing exists.” She added grinning ruefully.

“Oops, our stop next.” Carol reached for the bell and we got up and collected our stuff ready to alight.

After I got home and changed into something more comfortable for the evening, I sat in the kitchen peeling spuds with mum.

“How can I tell if a boy is nice mum?”

“Whoa there husky, where did that come from? Have you found someone you like already?” Mum’s eyebrows had disappeared into her hairline and the knife and spud hovered as she stared at me.

“Nooo, course not, I just wondered how you could tell if a guy was nice.” I grinned at mums face and she visibly relaxed.

“Thank the Lord, I’m not sure I’m ready to be the mother of a teenage daughter so soon!” She returned to the spud, twisting out the eyes with a practised flip of the knife.

“Well I suppose it is best to get to know someone a bit first like become a friend before you become a girlfriend. Join a club perhaps that has boys in and see if someone with a common interest takes your fancy.” She smiled at me “That’s how I met your dad; we both liked cycling.”

“Cycling? You haven’t got a bike between you.” I looked at her incredulously.
“That was nearly 20 years ago pet and we threw the bikes out when Nigel was 5, you’d have been 2. They were so heavy, and so old fashioned.”

“So are you mum,” I grinned at her and she nearly threw the spud at me.
I thought about what she said as I lay in bed later, a club to join where guys might also be. I’ll have to discuss with the girls. I rolled over and drifted off into slumber.

I awoke with a sore chest, I’d rolled onto my front and the pressure on my new anatomy was quite uncomfortable. Like an ache. I sat up and the pain diminished as the circulation recovered. I like them, but they aren’t what I thought they’d be. I thought I might play with them a lot, but they just are… they’re really not any more than part of my chest… I wonder what boys think of them?

I slipped on a robe and headed off to the toilet. Without Nigel there, there was no hurry to get in front of him or anything. So I dallied and had a nice long shower and washed my hair and shaved my legs and did all those things that were starting to become part of my routine.

Suddenly the door opened and dad walked in still with is eyes half shut — saw me and leapt backwards into the passage pulling the door after him. “Jenny, you MUST lock the door sweetie, I don’t want a heart attack!” I heard him gasp as he recovered outside the door.
“Sorreee, won’t happen again.” I was bright red from head to toe. I know because I could see every inch of me..

Wendy met me at the bus stop as usual and I could see from the precious smirk on her face that she’d got something up her sleeve besides her arms.
“Morning, girlfriend,” she leered, with a grin that showed all her teeth.

“Ok, ok, what’re you scheming?”

“N-o-othing,” she inspected her nails holding her arms at length.

“Oh yes you are, I’ve never seen anything more obvious, spill the beans Wendy.”

“Oh alright spoilsport, I just realised last night that you haven’t met Michael.”

“Michael?”

“Carol’s father’s mechanic’s apprentice.”

“Say that again without moving your lips, I dare you.”

“He works at that garage where what’s-her-face lives — Fletcher’s”

“Who does?”

“This apprentice mechanic called Michael, he’s really sweet and..”

“Hold it one minute, missy. If this is a prospective date, I have no intention of going out with a guy with grease under his fingernails that smells like a sump full of old oil.”

“Well that’s settled then.”

“Right.” I said relieved and annoyed at the same time.

“So you’ll go out with him?”

“I just said no, didn’t I?

“No, you said you wouldn’t go out with a guy with dirty nails and a smell of old oil. Am I right?”

“Exactly.”

So, Michael doesn’t smell of old oil nor does he have dirty nails — he’s a Virgo and as fastidious as a Surgeon.”

“He’s not gay is he?”

“No, he most certainly is not, he’s the owner’s son and working his way up the business.”

At this point the bus arrived and we stopped talking long enough to get on.

There was only one seat and Wendy took it. I stood next to her, strap hanging.

“What makes you think he’ll want to go out with a 5th former even if he’s as nice as you say and I find I fancy him?” I bent over and asked quietly so that the whole bus didn’t get to know the news.

“I asked him last night, and he said yes.”

“WHAT!!??” I said, rather louder than the background noise of jack hammers and pumping machinery that we were passing. Almost loud enough to break windows actually.

“You did what?” I repeated in an anxious whisper as the rest of the occupants of the bus went back to their newspapers and late homework.

“Don’t sound so ungrateful, he’s really cute and available.”

“So why aren’t you going out with him then?”

“Not my type — he’s a bit geeky for me, but you’ll like him, honest. I’ve known him for years, he used to live near Carol until he got his own place in town.”

I could just picture myself getting invited into his lair and being unable to refuse as my friends wandered off into the night with their boyfriends.

“No no no no no and no,” I started to panic as my mind went into overdrive imagining all sorts of goings on and more importantly — comings off.

“His own place?” I hissed at her, “what are you thinking?”

“Well, at the moment I’m thinking about getting off, we’re here.”

The bus hissed to a halt and we all got off and traipsed in the damp air into the muggy school, all of a sudden it felt claustrophobic and limiting. I’d just been set on my heels by my friend virtually sealing my fate without my say so.

“Look Wendy, I know you mean well,” I told her as we sat in assembly waiting for the bell to ring. “But I’m not ready to do this, you’re frightening me.” I felt the tears stinging the back of my eyes, “Please Wendy, please don’t make me.”

Wendy looked at me and realised all at once what she had done.

“Oh my God Jen, I’m so sorry. I wouldn’t dream of forcing you to do something, I just thought you were looking for someone to date. I just realised, you’re out of your depth and I wasn’t helping.”

She put her arm round my shoulders as I shuddered a couple of times — I reached into my bag and pulled out a tissue and blew my nose, wiping the tear surreptitiously from my eye at the same time.

“Give me a minute, I’ll be ok. It’s just a shock to suddenly realise that I’m on the other side of the fence now — prey instead of hunter.”

Wendy looked at me and raised he eyebrows, “Oh babe, how wrong can you get.”

“We’re the hunters, not the hunted. We take what we want and throw the rest back.”

I looked at her and realised that I didn’t really know anything about being a girl.

I spent most of the day weighing up what Wendy said about the hierarchy of mankind.
Some of it made sense, some of it appeared at first glance to be absolute idiocy.

How can meek little women control big hunks with masses of muscle? Well when I actually thought about it, I started to giggle which was not the best thing to do in the middle of Maths. A glare from the teacher was enough to stifle my humour.

“It’s just a matter of controlling one muscle isn’t it?” I said to Wendy and Carol as we ate lunch.

Wendy snorted and almost lost the sandwich she was chewing. Carol coloured up and swallowed hard before she stared at me like I was naked.

“Well now you mention it,” Carol started and both of them cracked up like demented goons, cackling like geese.

“Jeez Jen, you sure have away with words.” Wendy drew a huge lungful of air in through her nose to settle her hiccoughs. “Well that’s got to be the most concise guide to mastery of the male of the species.”

“And you’re probably right,” added Carol, sniggering.

The bell rang.

My thoughts grazed on the possibilities and likelihoods of the future, both near and far. I knew I was going to have to come to terms with boys/men, though I really wasn’t that able to grasp the need. Something like being a nun I suppose. Asexual.

Maybe my hormone levels weren’t up to snuff. I must get them checked.
I looked in my diary and realised I wasn’t far from my next appointment with Julie and I could get them checked then.

No further mention of boys on the way home meant that Carol and Wendy had decided to defer my initiation into the rites of passage. Which I have to admit was a relief. I really needed to discuss this with mum.

“Mum?”
“Yes dear?” mum stopped polishing the glass she was servicing and looked up at me.

“I need to talk,”

“Oh dear, not that time already?” She sighed and put the glass on the shelf with its kin.

“Well not how you mean, I don’t think,” I answered, inspecting a mark on the table so as not to have to meet mum’s eyes.

“Come on then, tell me what’s cookin’ in there.” She ruffled my hair and sat down near enough to place her hand on mine.

“Well, Wendy wants me to meet a guy she knows who she’s organised a date with for me,” I spluttered in one breath.

“Whoa there hoss. Do you want to go out with anyone… yet?” she added, as she realised that it was indeed on the cards eventually if not quite soon.

“Who is he, do you know?”

“Apparently he’s the son of the owner of the garage down near Sophi’s, the one that nearly poisoned her.” I added as if in explanation. On reflection it was probably intended to indict him with the chemical assault.

“What’s he like?”

“I’ve no idea, I haven’t met him”

“Well don’t write him off sight unseen, he might be a nice lad and could help you to learn about the opposite sex. In any event, you’ll be off to Australia soon and that will stop any long term plans in either direction. But it will give you some grounding and I think it may be a good idea to find someone like that.” Mum added thoughtfully.

I stared at her like she was the Monster from the Black Lagoon.

“Who’s side are you on mum???”my mind picked out the words ‘opposite sex’ like they were the hub of the sentence. I suppose to me now, they were. Mum had put them in there innocently enough and they sat there looking like ‘gorillas in the living room’ to me.

“It’s the operand, ‘opposite sex’ that is giving me the heebie jeebies mum, not the concept of dating. I’m really not sure I’m ready to really think about boys in that fashion yet.”

“You didn’t have any trouble with Mark when he was here did you?” mum asked, her expression was odd, like there were two questions rolled into one.

“I’m not sure I really understood the rules at the time and I’m having problems even remembering how I felt. It’s almost like I was on automatic at the time. Just going with the flow. I didn’t even consider what I was doing. I must have been an idiot.”

Mum looked at me with what I call long eyes. Trying, I guess, to fathom where I was going with what I was saying.

“Well in that case, I’m rather glad they were only there for a few days,” Mum mused, “you sound like you were on dangerous ground and didn’t realise it.” She added.

“I guess so, I didn’t even think about it - I was so wrapped up in being a girl and doing girl things. I’m almost frightening myself thinking about it.”

Mum rubbed the back of my hand as it lay on the table and got up to resume her glass polishing, “well, I’m glad it worked out at the time, I’d have been very upset if you’d been led astray by your friends. It’s been quite a summer hasn’t it?” She smiled at me and placed the last glass on the shelf.

“Thanks mum, I feel better now, I think I’ll leave out boys for a little while, if that’s ok with you?” I rose to finish the conversation and move onto my homework…Grief I actually do my homework even more conscientiously than I used to.

It was a good distraction and as the evening progressed, I felt calmer and more myself again. I slept soundly.

“Wendy, Carol, I just want to say thank you for being my friends and looking after me this last few months. I appreciate what you’ve done and how you helped me.

I do however want to say that I feel going out with guys for at least a while is not going to be an option for me.”

I rehearsed what I was going to say as I headed for the bus-stop
“Hi Wendy,” she was there as always, waiting for me.

“Morning Jen, how do you feel today?”

“Fine, just a little sort of down, nothing bad, just sort of not with it, if you know what I mean.” I faltered.

“Sounds like you’re more of a girl than we thought,” Wendy looked a bit down too.

“Why, what’s going on?” I looked at her puzzled by her comment.

Well it looks like we’re in synchro — Carol is as well.” Wendy looked listless and pasty.

“Are you ok? Are you ill?” I couldn’t work out what the heck was going on with her.

“Um, I started my period this morning, so did Carol…. And it looks like you did too.”

“I ca..can’t have them, remember,” I said a little put out by the thought but elated at the same time.

“Well it probably translates to a biorhythm low for you, do you feel a bit whacked and sort of bloated and unenthusiastic?” Wendy leaned against the bus stop sign and rested her temple against the cool steel post “mmmm”.

“Actually yes, I do feel like that, like someone has slapped me in the kidneys and I’m a bit hot at the same time.” I faltered as I thought about it.

“Yup, we’re all in this together, it’s going to be a great week. Let’s not talk about it, just get on with it and get to the other side.” Wendy put her arm round my shoulder and hugged me. We looked up as the bus hissed to a halt in front of us. We managed to find the last double seat and plonked down as if we had just run a marathon.

Eventually we got to school — we had hardly uttered a word.

I was totally gobsmacked when Carol met us and commiserated with Wendy and then looked at me and said “you too huh? Welcome to the club.”

We arranged to meet at lunchtime and headed for class.

“Does this happen every month, feeling like this?” I asked as we trudged to the Science lab.

“Yup — pretty much, sometimes less so, sometimes more so. But pretty much average.” She intoned like it was the drudgery of forsaken souls.

“How depressing. No wonder we get pregnant, anything to stop feeling like this..”
My mind jumped a bit at the inclusive quality of the ‘we’, but I felt it was warranted.

When lunchtime arrived and we sat on the low wall surrounding the carpark, I brought up the subject of boys, intending to give my little speech.

“Do not, I mean NOT, talk about boys for the next five days,” Carol advised. “We’re not in any frame of mind to discuss anything that might approach pleasure this week.”

“Well I was going to say,”

“Well don’t,” Wendy glared at me.

“Ok, tell me when I can and I’ll tell you what you just told me, without the pleasure bit.” I offered frowning. How am I supposed to tell them I don’t want to discuss boys, if they don’t want to discuss boys?
Well it can wait I guess… Hmm.. perhaps the reason I don’t like boys at the moment is the same reason they don’t after all. I’ll wait til I feel better and see if I feel better about them. I do wish I could stop thinking in circles.

The Way Things Happen{Highlight to read} Part 8
By Jennifer Christine

Continueing the Jenny Holland Story

The next few days felt like travelling through a tunnel, both more and less sensational. If one sense was flooded another was diminished. Not enough energy to go round.

I wasn’t really sure how someone like me could get PMS or any other menses related syndrome, but the fact of the matter was that I had fallen into the rhythm my friends had established long ago, like a duck to water.

When we started to pull out of it a few days later it felt like the sun coming out after a storm. The road steaming and everything bright and focussed.

The weekend had passed and I hadn’t even stirred from the house the whole time. Mum hadn’t worked out what was wrong until about 11.30 on Saturday when all I wanted for lunch was a cup of Cocoa. “Hello, what on Earth is wrong with you? Get out of bed on the wrong side?”

“Apparently I’m suffering from a link with Carol and Wendy’s biological rhythm” I offered unenthusiastically.

The look on mum’s face was a picture as it went from a questioning frown to one of immense mirth, until she cracked and guffawed. I looked at her stricken with self pity.

“You’re not nice to me,” My bottom lip went out like a baseball catcher’s mitt.

Mum stifled the grin and came over and hugged me better. “Well I never thought I’d see the day….” She kissed the top of my head. “There, there, pet.”

I retired hurt back to my room, mollified but otherwise unchanged.

“Well thank God that is over for another month,” Wendy slumped next to me as we cornered the last two seats on the bus.

“I suppose we need to resurrect ourselves from this moribund state.” Wendy was on a roll.

“You sound like Pit the Elder or Churchill or something.” I grinned at her pomposity and nudged her, “give over. We need to resurrect ourselves from School if you really want to devise something useful.”

“Well there is the visit to the Planetarium on Wednesday — nice train up to the ‘Pool, day out in the City.”

“Oh yes, I forgot about that, I’m really looking forward to it, I used to love looking up at the sky when I was delivering papers.” I looked at Wendy with a jaundiced eye.” In my previous life, you know. I reckon I saw a UFO one morning.” Suddenly I came awake with blood flowing to my senses, I’d not thought about that for ages.

“What sort of UFO?” Wendy looked at me like I was being daft.

“Well — one that turned a right angle without slowing down, really high up — a little red point of light is all it was but it was undeniably not following anything Newton had devised in the way of Scientific rules.” I added my interest suddenly rekindled. “I’m going to ask the guys at the planetarium when I get there.”

“You’re weird.” Wendy noticed for the first time.

“No, just curious.” I ventured.

Since our recovery, school seemed much nicer but boys hadn’t altered their appeal one bit for me but had for Carol and Wendy.

“It’s no good , I’m going to have to say it,” we were sat at lunch and I was feeling the need to tell my friends how I felt. “Truth time, I’m afraid.”

My four friends looked at me each with their own expression of quizzical and foreboding. “Wha?” I looked from one to the next. “What have I said now?”

“It’s sounds like you’re going to declare yourself a lesbian or something.” Joanne scowled at me.

“No, no — nothing like that. It’s just that I’ve made a decision to avoid the male of the species for a while, so if you want to re-sort yourselves into a different hunting pack situation, I’m ok with it.” I tried to make it sound light, but it came across as trite and lacking in grace.

“I’m sure you’ll change your mind soon, but I for one understand where you’re coming from and won’t press you to accompany us on our sallies into enemy territory.” Wendy picked up the direction and helped me with the consolidation of my intentions.

“I know you’re having growing pains at the moment and we’ve put a lot of pressure on you up to now. You’ve done really well and we’re proud of you. We also appreciate,” she added with a grin, “that you are no longer going to be competition so we can dismiss you out of hand.” She flicked her hair and showed me her snout in the air pose..

“That’s a neat way of putting it, thanks Wendy, you’re absolutely right. I think it is growing pains and I’ll be back in it with you soon as — but in the meantime I’m stepping back from the firing line. It’s too hard to come to grips with at the moment.” I grinned sheepishly at them and they each in turn hugged me as we got up and filed back in for the afternoon’s delights of Maths and Chemistry–

Seldom had I felt so wonderful—expectations of me were considerably lowered and I could concentrate on evaluating the dimensions of a molecule by measuring an oil slick on the surface of a beaker full of water… peer pressure really is a stress factor.

Having reaped the delights of Hydrophilic/Hydrophobic substances and made a little cutout of an oil slick I decided that Physics could be really boring if your mind isn’t focussed. I decided to put foolish things aside for the moment and concentrate on my school work. Taking a deep breath, I opened my text book and started reading the next chapter.

“Miss Holland?”

I looked up a little astonished when the teacher—Miss Price-gained my attention.

“What exactly are you reading?”

I held up the text book so she could see.

“Oh - I’ve seldom seen anyone so engrossed in that book before. I have to admit I thought your mind was in other places, I apologise for being suspicious.” There was that respect thing again. Apologising for being doubtful of my motives. In boys’ school the teacher would have snuck up behind me to try to catch me out.

After the class Miss Price stopped me and apologised again.

“Are you really interested in Physics?”

“Yes Miss.”

“Well we have an exhibition coming up soon for the open day, would you like to submit a demonstration of something?”

“What kind of thing?” I was intrigued but had no idea what she was thinking about.

“Well it’s up to you really, have a think about it and get back to me—I can pair you up with someone if you want to assist someone else. Rather than have your own exhibition.”

I gave her a huge smile and said, “I’d really like that Miss, I’ll have a think about it tonight and get back to you tomorrow if that’s okay?

“Certainly, well run along now, Chemistry awaits; young enquiring minds–”

I smiled at her and did just that — I was nearly late.

Wendy looked at me with one eyebrow raised, “what was all that about?”

“Miss Price wants me to do an exhibition for open day — that’s what you get for reading the text book in class… you get to be teacher’s pet.” I rolled my eyes and gave her a grin hoping she wouldn’t take it the wrong way.

“Ooh that’s great, what are you going to do?”

“I’ve no idea, but I reckon I’m going to need a hand — fancy giving me one?”

She smiled and shrugged, “depends what you want to do, I don’t want to spend every evening for the next month making up circuit boards or something.”

“Nah, it’ll mean we can stay in during lunch hour instead of having to get cold outside.”

“Oh, now you’re talking,” she gave me a thumbs up and we got down to measuring the amount of oxygen in a bell jar… no one said Chemistry had to be interesting as well — yawn.

On the way out of class Mr Richards the Chemistry master handed out copies of New Scientist, “this issue is free, the next one costs a shilling. Or you can get a year’s subscription for 10 shillings.” That was the first time in my life I’d been subjected to hard sell.

The point was I suppose that if you didn’t buy a copy, you were suspect as to your dedication to the subject. It felt a little like protection money!

“D’you reckon he’ll mark us down if we share a copy?”
“No, I don’t think so, he always has a few free copies anyway, he is just so gung-ho about Chemistry and Physics. I don’t think he even realises that he’s inferring anything.”

When I got home I was thumbing through the magazine and spotted an article on photoelectric cells. A seed germinated in my head and I smiled as I realised that I’d found my exhibition.

Wednesday was one of those days that you wish could have been last week sometime so you can forget it.
I looked out of my window at the blustery rain that slashed at the windows and stotted off the road. The trees weren’t going brown yet but the leaves were being whipped off and throw into the gutter to block the drains. The windows were almost rattling out of their frames.

“Can you give me a lift to school Daddy?” I asked plaintively. We’ve got a coach trip into Liverpool and the last thing I want is to be damp all day while I’m at the planetarium.” Dad smiled at me over his paper and nodded ok

“Put some dry socks into your satchel Jenny and take a small towel from the airing cupboard in case you get drenched.” Mum fussed about like a mother hen doing her thing.

“I was going to wear tights actually mum,” I wanted to seem a bit more grown up and they were allowed on excursions.

“Not very practical on a day like today pet, stick with the socks — there’s only going to be your classmates to see.” She admonished. I soon found out how wrong she could be.

“Right girls those two coaches are for us,” The whole of the year was gathered in the shelter milling about trying to avoid getting alternatively drenched and chilled by the swirling wind.
It was a major logistics exercise for the teachers to count heads as we rushed over to the coaches and climbed aboard. Trying to avoid the blast of rain as we traversed the gap meant we all arrived at the coach in a mob — anyway we were soon on board Wendy and Carol had managed to find a double seat together with one in front of them for me and Joanne. Helen was absent, she had a cold so we didn’t need to save an odd seat for her.

We quickly got warm so we shed our coats and chatted as the bus pulled out and headed for the city. Mr Richards stood and gained our attention.

“Right, ladies, sit down and keep quiet while I let you know the routine for today.

“When we get to the planetarium, we’ll check you off and you may go for a wander into the astronomy museum for a short while until 11am when you will all check with Miss Price and collect your place tickets — first in best dressed — the best seats are in the centre and they are very comfy and recline fully. Anyone caught napping will be on detention this weekend — it gives a bad impression of the school, so don’t do it.”

We grinned but said nothing.

“Please do not fraternise with the boys from the fifth form of King Edwards — they may be very nice, but it’s a school outing, not a social one. There’s going to be a lot of people about and we don’t want to lose even one of you”

Wendy looked at me as I slowly went white, a look of horror when I realised that my previous whole class–no, the whole YEAR–was going to be mixing with us all day. I started to tremble as I realised my goose was well and truly cooked. Joanne put her arm round me as I sank into the corner.

“It’s okay, no one will recognise you.” Carol placed her hand on my leg and gave it a squeeze, “you don’t look anything like you did last year.” She added quietly.

“Quiet please, I haven’t finished. Lunch will be provided in the cafeteria. There’s plenty of room and plenty of time so there’s no rush. Though you will need to be finished by 1pm and report back to Miss Price for the afternoon lecture on the ‘Race for the Moon’ which will be very interesting for those with a scientific bent.
In fact,” he smiled at his own joke, “it WILL be rocket science”

Everyone groaned except me — I was starting to hyperventilate a bit.

“Alright Jenny, snap out of it, you’re panicking and you don’t need to-no matter what happens, we’ll be there.” Wendy had grabbed my shoulders and was looking into my eyes with that concerned and slightly hard look that brooks no denial.

“Everything alright here?” Miss Price looked over the seat at me. I sort of gave her a pasty faced smile and said, “Travelsick a bit miss,” I ventured.

“Alright, sing out if we need to stop — there’s nothing worse than the smell of sick in a bus to start everyone off.” She added peremptorily, unable to give much in the way of succour. She gave me a vague sympathetic smile and moved down the bus.

“What can I do?” I was frowning so hard that my eyebrows were mating. “I’m bound to end up being chatted up and I’m really scared — I know everyone that’s going to be there - I’ve known them all for years. And what’s more they’ve all known me for years too.”

“Just stick by us, we’ll keep you out of their way.” Carol smiled at me and put her hand on my cheek, “OK?”

“I placed my hand on hers and said, Thanks, you’re really good friends.”

The bus ground into the forecourt of the Planetarium alongside several others.
The boys’ buses were already there and as we alighted to the blustery pavement, whistles and cheers set up from the boys who were queued up at the Museum door.

I looked over and there were at least 30 faces I recognised immediately. As I looked I realised that if I was to stay sane, I had to get over the trauma of seeing the people I had known as Jerry. I resolved suddenly that as far as I was concerned, I was just Jenny and any resemblance to the previous incarnation was just coincidence and I would pass it off as such.

I pulled my shoulders back and smiled. Wendy looked at me. “Are you okay? — you look like someone who just dropped a fiver and found a tenner.”

“Yes, Wendy, I am — really, really okay — I just found my feet I think. I’ve decided to stop worrying about the past and move on.”

“Well thank the Lord for that, I’m all in favour of a quiet life and less hiding as if I was an escaped convict.” She smiled at me and looped her arm into mine and began to walk — giving me no option but to comply and move with her.

We walked arm in arm into the museum section and began to wander along the aisle.

There were some pictures of Herchels telescope in Ireland and even a replica of the Telescopes used by Galileo with some explanations of how they differed from the modern ones — it was pretty plain to see as they looked more like small didgeridoos than telescopes. The pictures taken through the lens were abominable. Distorted and vignetted. — progress is a wonderful thing

As we turned at the end of the aisle, I looked up and coming down the next aisle were a couple of lads from my old school.
I could feel my face redden as they nudged each other and ogled the pair of us.

I stopped and pretended to look into a glass case with mirrors from the bottom of telescopes in it. They weren’t reflective as they were blanks — so I was able to avoid eye contact.

“So much for moving forward,” Wendy giggled at my obvious recalcitrance.

“You really don’t want to go out with either of them, I know them as inveterate wankers. I don’t think I could hold their hand, knowing what they’ve done with them.” I explained quietly as they passed behind us.

“Good morning, ladies,” one of them offered. I studiously ignored the greeting.

“Hi,” Wendy returned, but it was a closed caption and did more to put them off than ignoring them.

“I’m not sure I want to know about their habits thanks,” Wendy shuddered.

“I wish I didn’t either.”

Eventually we were ushered into the planetarium and found ourselves well down the front on the recliners — Wendy ending up next to one of the boys we hadn’t met, and me on the other side. He offered a smile and a “Hi” which Wendy returned.

I leaned forward a bit to see if I knew him and looked straight into his face as he did the same. “Hi to you too,” he said.

I flushed slightly almost in panic as I looked into his eyes, I did know him quite well — we’d spent more than five years in the same classrooms.

“Oh hello, are you from the grammar school?” I asked inanely — knowing full well that he was — he was wearing the uniform for pity’s sake!

“Yes, I’m Paul,” he offered his hand across Wendy’s prostrate body.

“Oh.. yes… Jenny.” I smiled and shook his warm dry hand — and my whole body flipped into three different dimensions. Whoaaaa! Not a reaction I expected.

I saw Wendy suddenly grin out of the corner of my eye. Paul had relaxed back into the reclined seat and was no longer facing me — thankfully.

I was almost hyperventilating. What on Earth was that reaction about?

“What are you grinning about?” I whispered a bit vexed with her.

“Well, I think you just moved forward.” She giggled and put her hand over her mouth to cover her amusement.

“You’ll keep,” I grumped at her as the lights dimmed.

The Way Things Happen
{Highlight to read} Part 9
Jennifer Christine

The continueing stroy of Jenny Holland

The show was really interesting and entrancing as stars and comets wheeled overhead — I certainly wasn’t going to fall asleep — it was too noisy for a start..

All too soon it was over and we were traipsing out to the café for lunch. The boys filtered out of the other side of the auditorium and Paul with them — though I notice he did look back and give me a smile — which — blow me down, I returned.

Wendy nudged me, “Well I thought I was going to be nursemaid today and it looks like I’m going to end up as a chaperone. You ok? You looked like you’d been zapped by a 240v wire when you shook P-a-a-u-u-l ‘s hand,” she leered at me like I’d had sex in front of her.

“You know, I’m almost certain he didn’t recognise you,” she added sarcastically but with a friendly grin.

“Yes, thank God,” I agreed. “I don’t really understand what happened, but I got the most amazing feeling from his hand, like it was electrified.”

“Now you know what it feels like to fall for someone, shame you didn’t get to chat to him, you might have ended up dating him.

“No way Jose. I don’t think I’m going to move forward that fast for a while anyway.”

We straggled into the lunch queue and picked up our trays. The lunch was paid for by the school so it was a bit regimented — we all got a choice of Burger and chips or Fish and chips. I had the burger — it was better than school dinners anyway. The fish looked limp and the batter was pale and soggy and greasy looking — not really inviting.

As we sat down we looked about and realised that the boys had all gravitated to one side of the cafeteria and all the girls to the other. As I looked across I spotted Paul again he was scanning our side of the café — I turned my head away just as his eyes reached our table. I waited a few seconds and glanced back….eeek — he’s still looking at our table.

“Oh my God, Paul is staring at me,” I whispered to Wendy as I shook her shoulder. She turned from Carol and said, “What are you whispering about?”

“Paul — he’s looking at me,” I gasped as my throat constricted from all the blood racing to my head.

“Of course he is dummy, you shook his hand and smiled at him. That my dear is the first step to getting to know someone.”

“Wendy, I’ve known him for 6 years. I sat next to him for two of them.” I squeaked urgently, trying to convey the reality that if he connected my old life and my new one, I’d be pretty much dead in the water as far as future was concerned — thank God I was going to Australia in a few months.

“What’s he like then?” Wendy asked smiling at my discomfort. “You need to hold onto the concept of what you were saying when you got off the bus this morning. You know, the one about ‘moving forward’. It’s not going to happen if you go into a catatonic stupor every time you see an old mate.” She was being gentle, but it wasn’t washing.

“Wendy, I don’t think you realise how frightening this is for me.” My lip started to quiver and Wendy’s eyes went a bit rounder.

“Come on Jen, stop worrying — he isn’t likely to come over and try to pick you up, though he looks quite nice and it wouldn’t really be a bad thing you know.” Wendy consoled me and chided me at the same time.

“Eat your ‘burger’ and try to smile, he has no idea who you were and isn’t interested in him anyway. It’s you he seems to like and oh- oh, it looks like he’s coming over.”
Wendy flushed slightly as my panic spread to her.

I picked up my burger and took a mouthful, trying to act nonchalant. I proceeded to choke on the overlarge mouthful and the dry roll — my eyes started to water and I was hump coughing, trying not to spit out the mouthful of half chewed sludge.

Before I could recover my equilibrium and my decorum which I’d mislaid somewhere between the meat pattie and the onions, he was standing next to my chair. He gently patted me on the back as I spluttered and heaved. Eventually subsiding into a heap.

“That’s the first time I’ve had that effect on someone,” he smiled graciously and looked around the table for some sort of reaction. Wendy and Carol both guffawed so he felt he’d scored a plus and could move up the next ladder rather than slide down the snake back to his seat.

“Are you ok now Jenny?” he asked leaning over to look into my eyes.

I looked back at him and smiled as I swallowed the lump of feral lunch material that had so nearly been my demise.

“Yes thanks, I seem to have bitten off more than I could chew,” I said, falling into my own word trap as Carol nearly squirted cola down her nose.

Wendy rolled her eyes at me and shook her head gently as if to say ‘wrong phrase dear’.

“Well I’m glad I was there to help,” Paul said graciously. I looked at him and my mouth fell open a little. What a cheek — it was his fault, but of course I couldn’t tell him that.

“Yes, very fortuitous,” I said trying to put some irony into my voice.

“The reason I came over was actually to ask you if you and your friends are busy at the weekend,” he said looking round the table at Joanne, Wendy and Carol then back to me.
“We’ve got a day out organised to the Lake District (Authors note - a national park area in Lancashire, England) and we’ve got some spare spaces on the bus which are going cheap, so cheap in fact that they’re free,” he added with a toothy salesman smile.

“Why us?” Wendy asked, canting her head slightly as if to say ‘I dare you to be honest’.

“I’d like to say it was pure philanthropy, but I have to say it’s more to do with I’d rather have 4 girls along than another 4 blokes.” Paul shrugged to lend honesty to his request.

I’d been looking at Paul and I had to say I wanted to jump up and say “yes” straight away. How weird that this guy I’d known for years suddenly seemed to be so different and in fact quite yummy. The only scary side being the fact that I knew him quite well and he might well put 2 and 2 together and get Jerry.

Paul spoke a bit more to try to convince us, “look, it’s a 20 seater bus and there’s 12 guys and 4 girls going at the moment, one the guys is paying for the day as it’s a birthday present from his dad. Don’t be shocked, his dad owns the bus company so it’s not that extravagant.” He added as an afterthought. “The other girls are sisters and girlfriends of some of the other guys.”

“Who’s the birthday boy then?” I asked — I couldn’t remember anyone whose dad was a bus company sort of person.

“Oh, that’d be me,” he said twisting his mouth as if to say ‘I was hoping you wouldn’t ask that’.

I looked round the table at my friends who were all nodding ‘yes’ at me.
I bit the bullet.

“Ok, I think it sounds fantastic, thank you very much,” I said as it appeared he asked me more than the others. Paul grinned and looked back at his mates who were looking across the divided camp expectantly. He gave them a thumbs up and they grinned widely nudging each other like lecherous 15 year olds generally do when they get a chance to ‘trap’.

“Look, here’s my phone number, phone me later when we get back and we can sort out logistics and lunch and stuff.” He passed across a page torn from a small spiral notebook.

Paul Schofield 555672
L5X St Edwards

Was scrawled across the page in a hurried but neat hand.
I took the page and slipped it into my pocket.
“Er could I get your number in case you lose that bit of paper?” He asked colouring up slightly.

In my head things were whirling and bouncing, I could feel my face flushing a bit too.
I knew exactly where this was going and I had to admit it was very exciting and a little scary.
I tried to look nonchalant (as you do) “Sure” I said as if it meant nothing. The girls were giving each other the eye — they too knew the significance of a phone number changing hands.

I wrote my number on a slip of paper torn from my diary (the one I used to relate stuff to the shrink in fact) — this would make interesting reading…
I handed it to Paul who took it, gently touching my fingers as he did so — accidentally on purpose.

ZZAP — there it was again, I almost jumped out of my seat. It looked like he got one too as his eyes widened slightly.
He slipped the paper into his wallet and put it back into his pocket with a smile that said loads….

I hope I know what I’m doing… actually I have no idea, but it’s too late now and I don’t care, this guy is having an effect on me that I can’t explain and I’m going to explore this. It’s probably why there’s still a human race on Earth — as natural as the birds and bees and a lot to do with the euphemism.

Paul bowed slightly and said, “see you later, ladies.”

“Wait a second Paul,” I grabbed his jacket as he turned.

“What’s up?” He looked at me quizzically.

“I’d like to introduce you to Joanne Carol and Wendy,” I said as I pointed to each of my co-conspirators. “That’s just so your friends can sort out their daydreams later,” I said laughing. Paul’s head rolled back as he searched the heavens for inspiration.

“Oh I’m going to love this weekend,” he laughed and gripped my shoulder gently and walked back to his expectant, grinning friends.

Our table erupted into a sort of cacophony of chatter like a cage of birds had been shaken up. My friends were all grinning and looking over at the group of guys that Paul had returned to. Each of them looked pretty ok.

“Tell us who they are Jen,” they urged almost as one.

“Ok” — I looked across — “Tony, John, Paul and Thomas.” As I looked at them the memories flooded back, “They’re all pretty decent guys, ‘good families’ is how my mum would put it. Top half of the class or better. Not swots, good sportsmen, all in all a fine bunch of guys. Oddly enough, I don’t think I ever associated with them in any real sense. I used to play chess with Tony and bridge with Thomas sometimes when it was wet and we had to stay in at lunchtime.”

As I thought about that I realised that it was unlikely that they would ever put 2and 2 together and find the old me — I didn’t really know them at all even though we’d been classmates for years.
Such is the lonely existence of someone who really doesn’t fit into a structure. Isolated by a difference no one could see or even understand.

We slipped into the lecture theatre for the afternoon lecture and found the boys had been given one side of the auditorium and we the other.
I glanced across and Paul’s eyes were on me — as he saw me look, he waved and smiled — ooh that smile…
I gave him a little wave and a smile and that was all we had time for.

The thought of the weekend made me shiver in anticipation — I was still not sure if it was the thought of the risk or the not unreasonable desire to be close to a nice boy.

“Right boys and girls, quiet please, let’s begin……”

The trip home was an anticlimax. But the phone call was all we four talked about and what we would wear and what we would say and do and boys and buses and lakes and eeek.

“Hi mum,” I slung my backpack down in the hall and walked through to where mum was sipping a coffee and reading a magazine. Supper was in the oven and smelt super.

“Hello pet, how did the Planetarium visit go?” Mum looked up from her magazine and smiled as I sat down opposite her.

“Interesting would be a good word,” I offered.
“Followed by frightening and scary and downright terrifying.” I added.
“Why, what’s so scary about the stars, did it make you feel insignificant?” Mum looked a bit concerned.

“No. that part was great; it was the fact that King Edwards lower fifth was also there that covered the other adjectives. I had my whole life flash before my eyes and my whole class as well. Well they didn’t flash, but the effect was almost as bad.” I giggled when mum’s eyebrow shot up at the connotation.

“I ended up accepting a date with Paul Schofield — remember him, he was the best batsman in the junior school?”

“Whoa whoa hang on there Musky, what’s this about a date and yes I do remember him — question is, does he remember you?” Mum rattled to a stop and looked at me for an answer.

“It’s his birthday on Saturday and his dad, who owns Schofield Bus Line, has given him a present of the use of a bus and lunch for 20 in the Lake District. So can I go??”
I looked with shiny eyes at my mother who looked back at me with steady yet slightly surprised eyes.

“This is very sudden, I thought you were off boys ‘til you were ‘sorted’?” she made a question of it.

Well actually so did I but he didn’t recognise me at all and he is very nice and with all those people with us it should be safe and Joanne, Carol and Wendy are coming too and and..” I stuttered to a halt.

Mum waved her hands and smiled, “hey, it’s ok with me if you’re sure. How much is lunch going to be?” She asked calculating how much I would need as pocket money.

“Like I said, nothing, it’s a birthday bash.” I grinned and swept my hair back out of my eyes. “Paul even gave me his phone number.” I added

“The question is, did you give him yours?” mum smiled knowingly.

“Um — yes,” I flushed a bit. “It only seemed fair.”

“I have to say that this is a complete turnaround from yesterday. I hope your hormones don’t flip you into touch and leave you all lost and alone again. Now off you go and get changed and do your homework BEFORE you phone the rest of the world.”

I almost skipped up the stairs to my room. How weird is that.

Bring Brring, Bring Brring, Brinnng

“Hello? Jenny.” I answered in my usual fashion thinking it was going to be Wendy, after all I hadn’t been home ten minutes, who else could it be?

“Hi, it’s Paul,” came over the line.

PANIC…

“Oh er Hi Paul, I wasn’t expecting a call so soon.” I gulped.

“I was just checking you hadn’t sold me a dummy,” he smiled down the phone. “I didn’t want to order the extra lunches in Windemere unless you were for real, dad told me to check anyway,” he said trying to pass off the excuse. “Well I also wanted to hear your voice again, it’s just so warm and friendly and not in the least standoffish,” he added.

“Why would it be standoffish?” I asked perplexed and not a little intrigued.

“Pretty girls are usually a bit cold, they tend to dismiss and control and the first thing you hear is their dead voice, like it’s too much trouble. Yours is totally different, it’s shy and warm and like dew on the grass in the morning — sort of clean and fresh.”

“You’re spinning me a line right?” I asked starting to giggle.
You soppy individual, where on earth did that line come from? Dew on the grass….. eeeww.” I was belly laughing now.

“Besides who says I’m pretty?” I added as an afterthought. “Pretty ordinary more like.”

“No, honestly, I don’t usually spout rubbish to girls, I’ve actually not had much chance, you lot are quite unapproachable usually. But you and your friends are really friendly, not in the least stuck up like Grammar School Girls usually are.”

“Oi you, wait a cotton pickin’ minute,” I laughed, “ it’s you lot that are usually prone to precipitating out at the opposite end of a room to the girls. Look at today, you were the only one that breached that great divide. Why was that, by the way?”

“I really wanted to talk to you and I knew if I didn’t do it then, I’d not get another chance — probably til sixth form.” He chuckled, admitting his rejoinder was weak but probably true.

“Alas you wouldn’t have a chance in Sixth form.”

“Oh, why’s that then?” He sounded confused as if my growing up would preclude him from my future.

“I’m moving to Australia in the New Year,” my voice had an edge of disappointment. There are some things that aren’t great about moving away. Losing your friends is one of them.

“That’s a bit sad, why are you moving?” He sounded like I felt - rug pulled out and all that.

“Dad’s job, he’s been given a new branch to run in Brisbane. Sort of new start thing, it’ll be several years, so I guess we’ll emigrate rather than come back again.”

I was telling him things I never thought I’d tell. I was including him in my life and I’d only known him half a day — plus the other five years of course, but they don’t count

“Oh, I see,” he sounded dejected now.

“Well we have three months I guess, before I go,” — crikey where did that come from?

He cheered up a bit at that, “Yeah, make hay while the snow falls eh? — no that doesn’t sound right,” he hesitated, I could sense he was going to say ‘make love while the snow falls’ but had the sense to keep his male humour in his own head.

“Well, Saturday? What’s the routine? Do we meet you somewhere at what time?” Changing the subject before he fell in his sword

“Yeah how about 8am at the War Memorial Square we have to come through that way and it’s pretty central. Just bring warm clothing and an umbrella — maybe wellies too, it can get pretty muddy.”

“I have some walking boots, I’ll pack those. No fancy clothes then?”

“No it’s an outdoorsy thing — maybe a bit of sailing on the lake — have you ever sailed?”

“Oh yes” I said smiling at the memory, “I’ve even won races.”

“You’re on — see you Saturday” I could hear his smile

“Yeah, right, that’s a date,” oops, too late, shouldn’t have said that…

“Byyeee” I could hear his grin now!

I rang the girls to confirm — all is good! Didn’t tell them about the slip ups. I take full responsibility for my own goofs.

On the bus next morning Wendy asked me what clothes I was taking.

“Um.. I’m just going to wear a nice polo shirt and a pullover with some jeans and walking boots —I’ll take an anorak in case it’s wet. I’ll have some softshoes in my pack as well as my first aid kit and a pair of dry socks.” I tapped my chin as I mulled over any other stuff that I could possibly want

“No No NO you can’t just go like that, you have to take some other stuff just in case”

“In case of what?” I looked at her trying to work out what she was talking about.

“In case we get to go somewhere posh and stuff.”

“Paul said there’s no ‘posh’ involved,” I held up my wiggly fingers to emphasise the posh bit. “Actually he said we may go sailing, so I guess a spare pair of duds and warm top may be in order..” I paused - I was NOT going to take nice clothes to the Lake District. It wasn’t that sort of place unless you had your own car and a hotel booked.

“Ok, I demurred, a full change of clothes in case I fall in the lake and give Donald Campbell some company, but I draw the line at taking pretty stuff.” I looked at Wendy and she slowly shook her head.

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear all that, now what are you really taking?” She tilted herhead and looked falsely bright, meaning — DO NOT REPEAT WHAT YOU JUST SAID.

“I’ve decided to take my full wardrobe in two steamer trunks and a hatbox full of makeup” I pursed my lips at her. “You’re doing it again — remember summer and the sailing?”

“Oh, that.. hmm yes”

“Lets keep it simple — we’re not out to impress the boys with anything more than our physical fitness, we can keep the ‘pretty’ for the disco if we are ever allowed to go. Besides, it’s harder to get at my body if I’m wearing stuff like that.” I added thoughtfully.

“Jenny, I don’t believe I heard you say that” Wendy looked shocked in a pantomime pose, “They wouldn’t do something like that would they?” then grinned to make sure I understood that she was looking for more than a walk round the lake.

“Right, I understand you loud and clear, you can go in a mini skirt and a boobtube if you like — I’m going for the fresh air, not the fresh hands.” We both giggled and got up to get off the bus.

Carol and Joanne were just getting off their bus and joined us. “What are you wearing?” Carol this time..

Wendy opened salvos, “I’m not sure, Jenny is wearing sackcloth and ashes or something.” She looked sideways and grinned at me. I gave her a haughty look and pretended to walk off to the main school block.

Joanne volounteered, “Well I’m going to be practical — I’m wearing jeans and a warm top — last time I went to the Lakes in a dress, I got soaked and cold and it wasn’t much fun. Carol seems to think this is going to be a tea party thing. I am pretty sure it’s going to be an outdoors event and more to do with boys trying to impress us and us all getting muddy.”

Carol rolled her eyes, “Well at least take something you can change into if we do go somewhere nice.

“Are you going to buy Paul a pressy?” Carol asked me as we walked to the assembly hall.

“I’m thinking about it? Any ideas?”

“Well you could always just wrap a ribbon round your chest and tie a bow at the front,” she suggested in mock innocence, “that, I’m sure, would be appreciated.”

I shook my head, “I don’t know where you get your ideas from - sounds like something Miranda would come up with,” I ventured.

“Meeaiow, ooh aren’t you the bitchy one,” she grinned and clawed the air for emphasis.

“I’ve got an idea, but I’m not telling.” I had just had a minor inspiration.

Saturday morning we all rolled into the bus, it was a cold but dry morning where we were, but it was nearly always less so in the ‘Lakes’.
I was carrying my lightweight day-pack — fortunately, though it was an old one that Jerry had, it hadn’t seen the light of day for a long time and was not genderised by being male colours.

The other girls had opted for grip bags probably to hold more options. The driver opened the side luggage bay and put the offending articles in the almost empty cavity.

There were a few lightweight backpacks like mine and two grips with feminine overtones.

Looked like I was at least partially right.

Climbing on the bus we got hi’s from everyone and Paul stood up and greeted us.
“Hello again, glad you could make it,” his eyes said a lot more.
I shook his hand again EEEK — I wish it wouldn’t do that.

“Could you reintroduce your friends again? almost everyone else knows everyone so we’d like to make you feel at home.” His eyes were smiling at me — it was making me hot under the collar but I was basking in it like a sunlamp.

I raised my voice slightly, “Right, Joanne, Carol and Wendy meet these persons on the bus.” I suddenly came over a bit dizzy, I nearly started introducing them — I knew nearly all their names and of course I shouldn’t. I took a very deep breath and sat down where Paul ushered me — oh — next to him — I flushed again… sheesh get over it girl.
Everyone returned the greeting and got settled as the bus pulled into the traffic.
Next stop Clitheroe

The Way Things Happen
Part 10
Jennifer Christine

The continuing Story of Jenny Holland

Actually Forton Services was where we stopped for a comfort break, by which time I knew quite a lot about Paul that I’d never heard before.

And he knew a little about me, neither of us was put off by what we knew about each other — in fact I sensed he was really pleased with who I appeared to be.

I didn’t lie, but it was hard not to include the past into who I was now. I did include what I could but it’s difficult to tell someone you like making model aeroplanes and stuff when you’re a girl.
So I left out the planes and included the music which was middle of the road and quite banal. Usual stuff. The Kinks, The Who, Rolling Stones, Beatles — Elvis.

“You like Elvis?” He asked astonished, “eeew, and I thought you had taste.”

“Well I quite like his voice, my brother is responsible for the knowledge of his music.” I averred. “At least I don’t like Tom Jones and Englebert Humperdink.” I retaliated.

“Neither do I, so at least we’re safe there.” He laughed, he had a nice laugh, warm, friendly.

“Did you know Freddie Garretty was the swimming bath attendant at Victoria Baths before he joined Freddie and the Dreamers?” Paul asked, laughing.

“You’re kidding?” I was incredulous.

“Honest to God,” he crossed his heart.

“He used to be a scout troop leader too, before he started jumping up and down waving his knickers in the air.” (*one of their songs) Paul added chuckling

I guffawed and laughed and he laughed with me. This was really nice.

As we stopped at Forton Services the driver said “15 mins only”, I followed the Paul into the aisle and as he preceded me down the steps he turned and offered me a steadying hand which I took without much thought. Except that once he had handed me down, he didn’t let go. I gave him a longish look then just smiled and he smiled back. My hand remained in his…
We walked up to the café and he offered me a cup of coffee.

“Oh no thanks, I need to pay a visit though,” so I retrieved my hand which had nearly gone numb with the intense heightened awareness of holding a guy’s hand.

“Wow, holding hands already I see,” was what greeted me when I opened the door to the loo. Carol was just coming out of the stall— she’d been busting for a pee since getting on the motorway and had rushed ahead.

Wendy and Joanne came in behind me.

“What a turn around, one minute she’s going all nun on us next she’s holding hands with mr nice guy.” Wendy giggled and I blushed and retreated to the stall to do my thing.

When I came out two of the other girls on the bus had joined our throng — they were going out with two of the other guys and had been for a while. So I couldn’t really blab with Wendy or the others.

I washed my hands and combed my hair — slipping my Alice band back into place.
“Why do you wear that thing, you hair looks lovely over your face.”

I rolled my eyes at Carol and whispered — “that’s how my hair was last year,” giving her a meaningful stare.

“Oh.. yes, ok,” she looked like she understood and left it at that.

When I got outside Paul was right there waiting like a puppy. I smiled and my hand slipped back into his like it had always been there. I was incredibly comfortable with this. I was also astonished. But then it had been about four and a half months since I went over to the softer side of things and my mind was very much further along than that really. Anyway, I wasn’t complaining.

The reality was that I had somehow reached a place where the old me simply wasn’t visible and any resemblance was purely coincidental.

“You look a bit like you’re daydreaming?”

“Oh sorry, I was just thinking about a school project,” I prevaricated.

“That’s such a miserable thought, what can I do to make you happier?” He squeezed my hand and smiled. I didn’t look at him, I could see him in my peripheral vision.

“Actually, I like school and I enjoy some of the projects we get to do,” I enlarged. “I have to make a light operated transmitter/receiver for the exhibition before Christmas break.” I suddenly thought of what else it was before and my heart fluttered a bit.

“That sounds very ungirly, Why don’t yu go for broke and strip a car engine as well?”
Paul smirked.

“I’ll have you know, that I’m going to be a famous physicist one day” I challenged him with a nose in the air.

“If you say, then so shall it be.” Paul smite his breast with his right fist and bowed nearly stumbling into the café, C’mon let’s get a cuppa and get back to the bus.”

I let him drag me by the hand, joining Carol and Wendy who looked at us and our entwined hands and rolled eyes heavenward in supplication. “Oh lordy lordy, what have we unleashed? Adam and Eve have been allowed back into the garden — quick find an apple.”

Joanne reached from behind me and plonked one on my tray. “Eat and become aware child, you shall have your eyes opened this day.” She droned then spoiled it all by giggling. I kept the apple and added a cup of rather dishwatery tea that looked almost grey to my tray —

“That’ll be one and sixpence dear or seven and a half P in new money… I’ll never get used to it,” the middle aged till lady shook her head and sighed. “Why do they have to keep changing things?”

“I’ll get that,” Paul offered the lady the correct money for both of us and the lady smiled and rung up the total.

“Thanks dear, I think you’re better at arithmetic than this ‘ere till.”

Paul smiled and we popped the trays back into the stack and took our refreshments back to the bus.

As we rolled out of the carpark I thought about that lady and her life. Did she have kids? did she have a life? Did she care? I t was sad that there seemed to be so many people who didn’t get to challenge how they lived or explore anything new. A life where the beginning and end merge and there’s nothing in between.

“Penny for them?”

“Ooh sorry, I was just thinking about that lady, how sad and gray her life seemed to be.” I sipped at the warm liquid, “ A bit like this tea really.” I nearly snorted as the humour of it caught me by surprise.

Paul laughed with me. “My what a philosopher, and funny with it. I like you more and more.”

I looked up at him and smiled, his face came closer and closer and suddenly our lips were touching. The bus went dark; all I could see were Paul’s eyes. Electricity flowed through me from top to bottom surging back and forth like a tidal wave. If I hadn’t got a cup of tea and an apple in my hand, I’d have been tearing at his clothes.

The moment dragged on like an event horizon — time went slower and slower.
‘POP’ I plonked back to Earth as a bump in the road jostled us apart..
“Oh my.” my face flushed and I looked through my eyelashes at him almost embarrassed by what had happened.

Paul looked like a stunned rabbit. Eyes like saucers and all his senses shorted out.
“Crumbs (idiomatic expletive from that era), that was incredible. What just happened?” He whispered to me.

I looked round to see if anyone had noticed…. As if…anyone would miss it.
Nearly everyone who was sat behind us was watching us like we were an instructional movie.

Slowly the guys started clapping, I turned back beetroot red and Paul came round a bit. He darted his head to his friends and they stopped — they could see he wasn’t amused.

“I’m so sorry, it was like I was hypnotised by your lips, I had to touch them and..and.. well yes, and that’s what happens I guess.”

He could see I was a bit swamped as well and he put his arm round me. I felt comfort in his strength and snuggled into his chest. “S’ok, it was nice,” I smiled at him and allowed myself to relax.

“Right here we are at Windermere, we have the whole day, it’s ten am and the bus leaves at 5pm.
If I can have you back here at 4.50 that would be lovely,” the driver said over the speaker system.

Paul detached himself from me and spoke up. “Ok guys, there’s minigolf, pitch and put, sailing and rowing and food. The food’s at the lakeside café at 12.00 be there or be hungry.”

Payment has been organised at those places, if you go there, just say you’re from the Schofield Party. Split up for Heaven’s sake or we’ll swamp the place. Let’s go” he grinned and led the way off the bus.

Actually that was a bit silly as Windermere was geared to cater for hundreds and there were already plenty of tourists there.
In the end we pretty much stayed in two groups, one went for the pitch and put and one went for the Minigolf.

As we alighted from the bus the cool cool breeze whistled round my ears and I felt quite chilly after being snug in Pauls arms. He memory of it suddenly warmed me and I smiled. Looking round for him.

The girls less well covered dug into their grips and pulled out their jackets and scarves. I smiled at them as they quickly insulated themselves from the Arctic chill.
“Don’t you dare say, ‘told you so’” Joanne glared at me, grinning at the same time.

Wendy piped up, “ I don’t suppose we’ll see much of you today?” raisingher eyebrows at me.

I looked at the girls and nodded to them, “Well I guess not if you’re going to be hanging with Paul’s friends,” I returned.

They looked round and there were Tony, John and Thomas waiting in the wings.
We all laughed and headed for the minigolf.

It shouldn’t take long to get round the minigolf , but today it did because we were almost hysterical with teenage hormones and the opposite sex confounding our senses. We laughed and giggled and hugged and cheered our way round the tiny course and at the end we all seemed to have found our ‘dates’ and partners, for the day at least.

“I need a drink of something, I know, lets get an ice cream and see if there’s any sailing going on.” Paul led us out onto the marina side and looked over at the clinker built gaff rigged cutters — stable and sturdy craft.
“They look ok, won’t get too wet in those will we?” Paul assessed the boats and pointed — “hey there’s the ice cream van, come on let’s get a 99 and then book a couple of boats for this arvo.” Grabbing my arm and pulling me into his him, “Gotta keep you warm so you can be ready for racing.” He grinned at me like the excuse was reasonable.

“Then why are you buying me an ice cream? “ I laughed and interlocked my fingers in his and walked over to the van.

“Eight 99s please, - that’s 892 all up” He boasted

“Leave it out Paul, you’ll confuse the poor man.”

We continued on like this as we walked along the lake edge, Paul occasionally bending to pick up a flat rock and skim it across the water — usually failing
When I looked round, the others had split up into pairs and were variously sitting on the turf or walking round the lake edge.

I felt a finger on my chin and looked at Paul who had appeared in front of me. Once more I fell into that spell and we kissed, holding onto each other sharing our warmth and our love…..
I pulled back, then succumbed again to that feeling of being lost in another’s arms. This I could get used to.

Paul’s arms encircled me like a warm ring of protection I felt so wonderful and loved.

“This is amazing, I’ve never felt like this- ever .” I confessed
“Me either. I feel like something special is happening.” Paul whispered to me as we stood by the water’s edge locked in our warm embrace.
“No matter what happens, I’ll never forget this moment.” I smiled up at Paul and kissed him gently on the lips and turned to continue the walk. We walked to the café cuddled together and not just for the warmth, even though that was a neat bonus.

The clan was gathering and the waitress showed us to a corner of the room where a pair of trestle tables had been set up for us.
Being early November it was not busy so we nearly had the place to ourselves. It was warm and cosy and the smell of fresh baked goodies and coffee permeated the air.
We were all glad to shed a layer of clothing and chatted like a chimpanzees tea party.

Paul sat at the head of one table with me at his right like his queen.
He rose from his seat and said, “Thank you all for coming today, it makes me feel very privileged to have such a big group of friends.”

Someone in the crowd said, “hangers on you mean.” Which raised the expected laugh.

“I hope you are all getting on ok with each other,”

“I can see you are,” More laughs.

“Right I can see I’m going to get nowhere with you lot. It’s fish and chips for lunch — or a salad with chicken. There’s Coke and Fanta and lemonade. Get stuck in“

Minor ribald cheers accompanied his sitting down.

Paul reached for my hand under the table, “I wish it had just been us here now. I’m feeling rather indulgent and silly having such a huge party.” He looked me in the eye and I had to look away before I steamed over.

“And what for you miss?” brought me to my senses —
“Oh er Fish and chips I think — it’s too cold for salad,”
“Me too” Paul agreed.

We continued to hold hands until the meal arrived. It didn’t go unnoticed by Carol sitting next to me with Thomas by her side She smiled at me and raised her right hand — attached to Thomas’s.
Wendy noticed and held up John’s hand, whereupon Joanne did the same with Tony’s hand.

Paul laughed out loud and declared his team lost to the wiles of the high school team.
Lunch arrived. Fish and chips never tasted so well.

As we ate, the lake we could see through the window got darker and darker and mistier and mistier. Soon it was obvious that the weather was getting seriously savage and boating was going to be a no chance event.

Flurries swiped at the water and a fierce chop was set up. We watched as rain squalls hurried across the lake and then rain falling steadily as the wind died.

“Well I’m glad we’re warm and dry and sat in here.” Paul volunteered

The place had filled up somewhat as people had taken refuge from the rain but cleared soon as people decided to head for their cars — looked like the rain was here to stay for the day.

The lounge area of the café had a fire and some seating which we decided to take advantage of - Paul asked if he could use the phone — I was intrigued until he told me that he was going to cancel the boating — he didn’t want the guy sitting round all afternoon in this weather waiting for us and us not showing.

I liked this guy more and more — he was showing care and thoughtfulness that I wouldn’t have credited.

When he came back he settled next to me his arm draping naturally over my shoulders as I snuggled into him. This I could get used to.

I thought over what I felt for this guy and realised I really was fond of him and nothing he had done was in any way bad or thoughtless or snobby.

His family were obviously well off and he appreciated not the money but the doors which lay open for him to use. He honoured the gentleman’s code and didn’t misuse it.
He didn’t get off on looking down on people he enjoyed helping them and earned respect from it. He was a lot more mature than his buddies. But he led them into his way and they were a nice bunch of lads too.

I started to feel very lucky that Paul had picked me to be his girlfriend. Girlfriend, gosh — so soon I had become this person attached by a mutual fondness and respect for this lovely guy.

“You’re very quiet,” Paul quietly shook me from my reverie.

“I’m just thinking how lucky I am to be your girlfriend,” I confessed looking into his eyes as my hand touched his cheek.

His smile said it all, ‘Not as lucky as me. I have you’ His voice said. “Will you be my girlfriend properly, as in going steady? I’d hate to have to think of you being with someone else.”

“You don’t have to ask, I’m here..” I felt a sting in my eyes like I was going to cry in happiness — instead I just purred and snuggled back down to enjoy the warmth.

Time passed quickly and slowly that afternoon — Paul and I bonded very quickly and it was obvious to everyone that we were suddenly an item. All of a sudden we were back on the bus heading home.

“I’ve had the best birthday ever and all I did was sit in front of the fire all afternoon.” Paul admitted. “Mind you the company was awesome.” He added flippantly.

“Me too, it was the least of my expectations,” I replied ‘ but it was the best of my hopes’ my mind added. Not only had I not been outed, I had all but fallen in love with one of the nicest guys I had ever met.

“I never realised that the grammar school churned out such nice men.” I smiled. He purred under my adoring gaze. “Don’t get to complacent mister. I need constant attention and a lot of TLC.”

“What’s TLC?” He asked, puzzled.

“You never heard that before? It means Tender Loving Care”
“I think you can count on lots of that — I’m not going to mess with you - you’re too precious.” His arm tightened across my shoulder.

“Well what a wonderful mutual admiration society we’ve formed.” I laughed and he joined me.

“Yes we sound like a right pair don’t we?” He gave me a peck on the lips and settled back as the bus ripped down the motorway.

We had to slow as we passed a nasty accident. A mini and a Morris 1100 had hit each other head on - the mini was only 4 feet long and it sobered us all up — even though we’d not had a drink. The ambulances were everywhere — and they were trying to get a guy out of the driver’s side of the mini he looked like a rag doll and the engine was rolled on top of him pinning him to the passenger in the back seat. (author’s note, I was actually the passenger in the back seat in that accident. The driver and his three passengers survived)

I hid my eyes and started sobbing. Paul held me tight and let me cry.
Later as I came round a bit I looked at him to say thanks, he was as white as a sheet.
“What’s the matter?”
“I know who’s car that is and the passengers, I recognised them they’re from our school. — sixth form.
One of the guys at the back said. “Was that Chris’s car? We saw him and his buddies on the pitch and put this morning.” We all fell silent.

Not the end of a perfect day, but maybe the end to a perfect day.

When the bus pulled up back at the memorial, Paul let me go — “I’ll phone you later — I want to find out if Chris and his mates are ok. Sorry it put a dampener on the afternoon.” He apologised.

“Hey don’t apologise, it just happened and you were wonderful — you let me cry knowing that your school mates were in that accident. That makes you very courageous and … “ I kissed him. “Phone me”

Part 11
The continuing story of Jenny Holland

by Jennifer Christine

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When the bus pulled away I looked at the other girls and they looked a bit devastated but strangely happy.

“Don’t know what to say, it was all wonderful until that car crash scene.” Carol held her face in her hands. “Those poor guys all twisted up like that.”

“C’mon let’s get the bus and get cleaned up and stuff.” I suggested.

We no longer felt like youngsters- we felt old and tired — we’d witnessed what looked like a killing field with our friends once removed lying in it unmoving..

We barely spoke on the way home. We all hugged and parted to our various houses and promised to phone as soon as we knew something.

“Hellloooo,” I called as I opened the door..

“I’m through in the kitchen dear,” mum responded warmly “come and tell me all about your day.”

“Yeah, in a minute mum. Is Nigel in?

“No dear. You sound upset, what’s happened? come in here where I can see you — I hate talking through doors.”

I walked through and as soon as mum saw me she rushed to me and hugged me “What on Earth is the matter? You look like death warmed over.”

“It was horrible mum, we saw a car smash and it was friends of ours — do you remember Chris with the red mini in the year behind Nige? They were all broken up mum and squashed into the mini - it looked like they were dead mum”. I couldn’t bear it I wailed into my mums shoulder.
Mum rubbed my back and slowly I subdued to hiccoughs and snuffles.

“Come and sit down and I’ll make us a cuppa.” Mum’s answer to everything.

“How was the rest of your day?” She looked over at me from the stove.

I coloured up a bit and said nonchalantly — “Ok I guess” I think it must have been too nonchalantly — mum pounced. “Oh yes, tell me more.”

Well I … do you remember Paul at all? — I used to sit next to him. When I was a sprog (new boy at school).
I ended up with him all day.” I coloured up as I thought about it.

Mum watched me, smirking a bit , “Go on.” She invited.

“He’s really nice mum, he’s really grown up and is very sweet and so kind,” I tried to skirt round the word forming in my head.
“You mean hunky and delicious?” She suggested.

“I don’t know what you mean.” I pouted unsuccessfully.

“Been there, done that, remember that guy that comes in here at 5.30 most days — that’s what he was like. You be careful missy — “ mum flushed and went silent for a second.. “I was going to suggest something then but I’ll leave it at Be careful.”

“You were going to say don’t get pregnant weren’t you? I laughed for a moment then it hit me worse than ever and I sobbed,” I can never get pregnant- I can’t even make love. Oh mum I wish it was all over, I’m getting really frustrated.” I felt like crying again but it wasn’t going to happen — I had no more tears left. For now.

I sipped my tea and dunked a digestive biscuit in it — life is never quite as simple as it appears to be.

B-r-i-n-g , B-r-i-n-g — I lifted the handset before it rang a second time.
“Hello, Jenny Holland” I swallowed.
“Hi it’s me,” Paul said quietly. “How are you?“
“Are they ok? I’m fine. Tell me they’re not dead pleeeaaasse” I urged.
“No, they’re ok, Grahams got busted ribs Jeremy’s got a face full of glass cuts and a broken jaw, Richard has a cracked skull and Chris has multiple crush fractures but no spinal damage — skull was cracked by Jeremy’s jaw apparently.
He going to be out of it for a while but they’re all going to mend ok.” Paul’s voice was melodic and soothing.

“Thank God for that,” I suddenly felt drained like the tension had been taken out of my spine. “I shall sleep better knowing they’re not at death’s door”

“Well Chris isn’t exactly doing a ‘singing in the rain’ impression but he’s stable.”
Paul chided.

“Well ok, I promise not to sleep too soundly then, I shall certainly say a prayer for them, it must have been horrible to know you’re going to crash — do the know what happened.?” I was wound up like a clock spring

“Chris’s brother said a witness had seen this car coming over the safety barrier from the other side about ten foot in the air and it landed right in front of Chris’s car. Apparently it was doing way over the speed limit.”

“Whoo, in the rain too.” My head hurt thinking about it.

“So besides that, did you enjoy today?” Paul’s voice softened.

“Oh did I enjoy it? Well my knight in shining armour, I have to say that the day was beyond my wildest dreams. It’s a pity your white horse was a white bus.” I lightened up considerably knowing that the crash victims were safe.

So what are you doing tomorrow — there’s a new James Bond I haven’t seen — would you like to be my arm candy?

“Cheek, arm candy — I’ve already told you I’m going to be a Nobel Prize winning physicist. You can be my arm candy.” I laughed and he joined me.

“O.K-a-y — look I wanna get cleaned up, I’ll ring you later ok? I just wanted to let you know that the guys were still kicking.” Paul sounded like he needed a pee.

“Well, only if you tell me you miss me” I whined.

“Miss who? who are you anyway?” I could hear him smile “Course I miss you, I wouldn’t ring you if I didn’t silly moo.”

“Seeya,” I kissed the mouthpiece. I heard an echo.

Click — I was happy.

“They’re gonna be ok and I’m going to the pictures tomorrow.” I shouted out so mum could hear - I wallowed in my happiness.

A brief echo, “That’s nice dear.” came from the kitchen.

It wasn’t long before a routine established itself and Paul and I were seen as an item.
The longer it went on, the harder it was for me to contain myself and the harder it was to stop myself from lying.
I got a brief respite when Paul got a nasty flu bug for a few days and then when I got it from him and he couldn’t see me for a few days.

The boys in hospital were soon out except for Chris who was in hospital for months — though he was moved to a local one.
We all went to see him at some point but whilst he was brave, it was obvious he wasn’t going to be his old self for a long time.

As the autumn term progressed, Paul decided he’d like to move the relationship to the next level and I had to make a decision whether to tell him or hold him off for longer or dump him completely.
I hurt like anything as my conscience fought with my libido and my heart fought with my head.

“What should I do mum? Paul is never going to want to see me again and I don’t want to hurt him and I don’t want him to hurt ME.”

“Why do you need to tell him,” mum looked up from the sweater she was knitting for Nigel in some ghastly double-double knit orange wool — she looked at my eyes widen and then the blush. “Oh, I see. Getting bored with cuddles — Well I guess the only way you’re going to get out of it is to start to distance yourself from him.”

“How am I supposed to do that? We see each other practically every day.” I whined a bit as I really didn’t WANT to lose him but I knew I had to..

B-R-i-n-g B-R-i-n-g B-R-i-n-g — I picked up the handset knowing it was Paul
“Hi you”. He smooched down the phone.

“Hello Paul, how you doon?”

“What’s with the Hello Paul? Is someone monitoring the call?”

“No, of course not, I’m just a bit distracted; I’m working on this project. For the school science fair, remember? it’s next week and I haven’t got the thing sorted yet..”

“Do you want a hand?”

“Most certainly not, that would be cheating,” I tried not to grin I wanted him to feel a bit cold shouldered.

“Hey, hold on there! What have I done to deserve the ear bleed you’re giving me?” his voice took on a slightly narky edge.

“Well nothing actually but I’m tired and I want to get on do you mind.?” I twisted my voice towards the agitated trying to escalate the damage — my heart lurched, and I wanted to cry and run to him. “I’d really like a bit of space sometimes, you know?”

I heard a gasp from the other end of the phone, “Jen? Are you alright, you sound like someone’s got you by the throat?”

I took a deep shuddering breath, “Yeah, I’m fine, I’m just tired.” Oh no, now I’m giving him mixed signals — he’ll want to come over and see me now.

“This isn’t your time of the month or something is it?” He asked cautiously.

Tears started to form in my eyes and leaked down my cheek as I stood there trying not to let him hear me sob.
I managed to gather myself a bit, “ I’ll catch you later eh?” I put the phone down and howled out loud mum came running out of the kitchen and dad came running out of the lounge. “Goodness, I thought you’d impaled yourself on a fire iron for a minute, what on Earth is the matter?” Dad held me as I sobbed.
Mum put her hand on my arm and drew my attention “Paul?” She only had to say that one word, I nodded and disappeared back into my father’s safe embrace.

The phone rang again and Mum answered it. “No Paul, she’s in her room and said she doesn’t want to be disturbed.” Mum continued after a moment. “I don’t know dear, perhaps she’s worried that you’re getting too close, don’t forget we’re moving to Australia in a few months and we’ve a lot to do and a lot to think about. “… “Yes I know you do pet, but it’s not going to be easy to say goodbye for either of you is it?”

I stood there like a stone statue imagining Paul’s face as he realised I was throwing away our relationship. My father’s arms protected me physically but my heart was being wrenched this way and that by the tide of my emotions.

I felt at once both sick and dizzy — like I’d been poisoned

I wanted to reach out and take the phone from my mother and tell Paul it was ok and that I loved him — but I knew it would destroy whatever chance I had of staying innocent of being duplicitous. I was lying to stop the bigger lie from showing.

Suddenly I realised I was lying on my bed and Dad was wiping my brow with a cool wet towel. “It’s ok darling, you fainted — I think you held your breath until you passed out.” He looked into my eyes and checked to see if anyone was home. “Mum’s off the phone now, Paul said he’d check you out tomorrow.” His look of concern made me nearly wail again.

I sat up suddenly, getting room spin and nearly catching dad under the chin with my head. “I mustn’t see him again, I’ve got to get away and and….and I’m not making sense am I?” I looked at Dad and he raised an eyebrow.

“Well not really, in normal terms, but I can see where you’re coming from.” He squeezed my hand. “Go and wash your face and comb your hair, you’ll feel better.”

He got up and left me in the half light of the bedroom. What light there was spilling from the hall onto where I had lain on my bed, the ruffled counterpane showing where dad had sat to tend me and the silhouette of my body showing in the wrinkles like a ghost of Paul’s girlfriend slipping silently into the night. I pulled the counterpane straight and shut the door and went and washed my face..

I was hurting, but the first blow had been dealt and I knew that I could do it even though I hated to. All I had to do was keep it up.

There were only 5 weeks to Christmas and my operation.

Wendy and I were wandering along for the bus to school when a car pulled up next to us and Paul got out. To say I was stunned was a little short of the mark but his face looked like it had been jumped on — he looked like he hadn’t slept.

“Jen — I needed to see you,” Paul blurted out, “I just wanted to check you’re alright.”

I knew how he was feeling, I had looked in the mirror this morning and could see exactly the same effect on my face — I felt as I looked.

“Hi sweetie,” I leaned into him and his arms went round me like a glove. It felt so nice. I could feel his relief flooding his system — I could feel his hammering heart slow and become soft and regular as mine was doing. This was not going as planned.

I lifted my head and his lips met mine — my eyes went all shiny and two small tears escaped and ran back to my ears. Arrrrgh — no — I couldn’t let this happen.

“No! NO! stop!” I pushed him away, he looked confused and a bit angry.

“Jen, what’s up, what’s happening?” his eyes pleading his hands open in supplication.

“I can’t do this any more, it’s not fair. I don’t want to fall in love and then lose you. Go away, find someone else to love — someone who isn’t going to Australia.” I turned away from him devastated, and ran for the bus with my head down. I could see him from the corner of my eye next to the car, folorn, confused, sad, angry.

Wendy caught me up and ran beside me, “Jeez girl what’s got you all in a fit with a leg in the air?”

I looked at her as the bus and we arrived at the stop together.

“I’ll tell you when I get my breath back,” I gasped and sobbed as I grabbed the pole and pulled myself onto the back of the bus.

I slumped in a seat and Wendy sat gently beside me her whole face one big question mark. She was concerned and her hands rested on mine as I sat gasping and shaking my head to try to rid me of the emotion in there.

“Wendy, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to be so out of it, it’s just Paul, I think I’m falling in love with him and I can’t afford to — he’s too close and I don’t want him to know the truth about me.” Tear continued to flood from my eyes. I continued, ”he wants more than I can give him and I want to give him more than I have.”

A light went on in Wendy’s head. “Oh my God, I completely forgot about — you know what... How awful for you.” Her arm went protectively round my shoulder and she rubbed my back.

I felt very sorry for myself.

It felt like a long time to get to school and the day dragged on like it was 40 hours long.

It was not a good day and I went straight home after school, avoiding the usual coffee house visit on the way home. Wendy kept me company whenever she could and comforted me. We came to no conclusions as to how to resolve the dilemma.

When I opened the door mum was already home and after one look at me came over and helped me out of my coat and gave me a huge hug as I just stood there like a wounded doe, head down and panting with my eyes bugged out in shock at how I’d got myself into this position and no way out. I felt totally trapped.

“Come on petal, come and sit in the warm, I’ll get us both a nice cuppa.”

She led me into the kitchen and we sat at the table — a mug of tea appeared in front of me and I placed my hands round it, warming them. I hadn’t realised how cold I was.
I felt her hand on my back as she bent towards me.

“Do you want to tell me about it?”

“Not really, it’s just a stupid corner I’ve got myself in and all I really have to do is wait and it’ll all die out — I just think it’ll make me die a bit as well and it hurts like hell.”

“Well that’s a very mature attitude, and a very correct appraisal, but I guess it doesn’t help much in the meantime huh?”

I shook my head and my hair danced, “He’s so lovely mum and I’m going to lose him.”

“Don’t blame yourself pet, this is one of those unavoidable points that make us know we’re alive.”

I nodded miserably, “It’s just a shame it hurts so much.”

We sipped our tea as the light dwindled; dad came in a little while later and found us sat in semidarkness, “Hello, what have we got here, a wake?”

“Yeah, I guess you could call it that.” I replied as he flicked the light switch and life flooded back into the house.

By Jennifer Christine

Part 12

‘So why so glum girls? Did you lose a pound and find 5p?”

“No, I lost one P and that was enough” — my lip started to quiver but I took a deep breath. “Think I finished with Paul, but I don’t think it’s finished with yet”. My little fists were clenched like I wanted to start a fight — but it was already over.

Dad walked over and put his arms round us both and gave us a squeeze. “I’m probably to blame for all this too with dragging us off to the other side of the world.
Will you reserve judgement on me til we move out there?” He opened his bag and took out a large envelope. “I have some pictures here of our house in Brisbane, the one that’s being built for us.”

“Built for us?” I raised my brows until my eyes looked like twin oysters (Well I had been crying a lot)

“Yes, built for us, it’s what they call a brick veneer with concrete tiled roof”
“This is what it looks like finished”, he took out the colour brochure and passed it to mum who shared it with me.

“How BIG is that?” I was looking at a house with at least three garage doors on one side and about 6 windows on the front wall.

“About 3 times the size of this one plus the three car garage. But there’s a large outdoor area at the back and… a swimming pool.” he smiled looking at his fingernails extended like he was inspecting nail varnish — he pretended to polish them on his lapel.

“Nothing too ostentatious for a start — maybe we’ll get a big one later.”

Mum was away in a dream and I’d completely forgotten the sadness of the afternoon (but only for a moment. Honest)

“How big is the garden?” I asked looking at the pictures — it didn’t have any neighbours so it was hard to tell how big the block was.

“About an acre, but there’s a horse trail at the back and a park about 200 yards down the trail. It’s a new estate, so there’s only a few houses there at the moment.” He added thoughtfully. “I’m not sure how man y other people will be living there actually but your school will be brand new — it only opens after Christmas.” (which is the new school year in Australia).

There’ll be plenty of other kids in the area — so you won’t be short of friends — I checked.” He smiled at me as I gazed at what looked like a paradise.
“Oh and there’s the sea only a mile or two down the road. There’s a Marina if we fancy having a boat too.

“Is there enough room to take Paul?” I looked at Dad and he returned my sad look. “Fraid not kiddo. But we may get him out there for a holiday if you are still interested in a year or two.”
“A year or two?” My head went back into tail spin — “Oh Daddy, I’m just so unhappy.” My shoulders started to shake and mum put her arm round me and drew me to her.
“There, there pet. There’s nothing we can say at the moment that’s going to make you feel better. It’s true though, if you and Paul are still interested in each other next summer we’ll get Paul out to visit.” I could hear the sincerity in the voice and I knew that they would do it too.
I felt mollified, but still devastated. I still hadn’t really sat down with Paul to make a clean break — and I’d have to do it soon.
My operation was coming up in a few weeks and nothing was going to get in the way of that.

“Right let me get dinner on”, mum got up and started to get back into routine. I got up and grabbed my bag and took it to my room

I was just passing the phone when it went off. I looked at it and shook my head. I looked at dad and a tear fell from my eye as I shook my head and walked up the stairs.
“Oh Hello Paul….” I heard dad saying as I shut my bedroom door. I sat on my bed and felt like I’d been emptied. Just a hollow skin with no soul and no fight left.

“Jen! Dinner time!” I heard the call and shook myself — I hadn’t moved.
“Sheesh I’ve got to get a grip!” I said out loud - I shouted - “right O — two minutes,”
down to mum, then rushed to get changed into something less ‘school like’

Usual jeans and stuff — oddly enough they felt like they fitted, they snuck over my hips and really felt snug.

When I got downstairs, dad was just laying the table and he looked up when he hear me enter. His eyes travelled appraisingly up my body. His expression did a sort of internal wow and he smiled at me, “you fill those jeans rather well, I’m not sure I should allow you out in them!” he smiled to show me he was joking.

“You buttering me up for something?” I flirted back.

“Hey, no practising on defenceless fathers,” he held up his hands in mock surrender.

“Careful now this dish is hot,” mum popped down the tray with a roast chicken and some roast potatoes. “Be a pet and fetch the veggies and gravy would you Jen?”

Normality was returning.

“Your penultimate meeting with the doc is tomorrow after school do you want to go alone or shall I pick you up or meet you there?” Mum reminded me.

“Can I go alone then? You don’t mind?” I was quite taken with the idea that they thought I’d be ok on my own.

“Of course, but if you think you’re going to be upset, it may be better if I pick you up after at least.” Giving me the opportunity to be independent and not worried about the meeting.

“That sounds pretty good — I’ll get out about 20 to 6 as the appointment is for 5pm.
I’d rather not be alone in town after dark.”

“Sold to the highest bidder, it gives me time to get supper on too.” Mum smiled and started to collect the plates. “Your turn for the dishes Jen.”

The turn in conversation stepped me away from thinking of Paul and back to thinking about me — which was both good and bad. “Do you think everything will go Ok in Geneva?”

“Why shouldn’t it? It should be a great time and you’ll be able to see the alps with proper snow on; we’ll try to get around without making you uncomfortable after your op.” Dad was trying to get his head around the operation. “How are you feeling about all that stuff? It seems very drastic from my point of view.”

I looked at him like he was a bit crazy. “How on earth could I live with a girl’s body and a boy thingy that doesn’t work? It’s not like I have much choice in the matter really, is there?” I hadn’t realised that the male worship of the penis was alive and strong in the Holland homestead.

“I guess not, I’m really not that different from other blokes am I? I seem to have a hang up about ‘losing masculinity’ same as all the other men. I thought that I actually might have learnt by now. I find myself wanting… Perhaps I should make a booking with your doc to see if I need some therapy!” He smiled in apology and helped me clear the table.

I sat by the phone later, determined to ring Paul. I shouted out to Dad, “What did you say to Paul earlier Daddy? I’m going to ring him and I don’t want to make it harder.”

If you come in here, I’ll tell you .” he replied from the study. “I’m not shouting it round the house.” I went in.

“I told him that you were really upset and that you were trying not to hurt him but that you felt that going any further would destroy both you and him. I said you’d phone later if you felt up to it.”

“Thanks Daddy, you’re really very sensitive for a guy, aren’t you?” I smiled at him and turned back to the phone. I didn’t want to do it but I had to make sure that it was going no further, my life was complicated enough and it didn’t need hurt in there as an ingredient as well.

I picked up and dialled without any real idea what I was going to say, only that I couldn’t back down. I heard it ringing at the other end and then..
“Hello,” Paul’s voice at the other end.
“Er hi, it’s me.” I started hestitantly.
“Oh, right,” came back in a similar fashion.
“Paul, I’m ringing you because I know I couldn’t do this face to face because I’m a coward. I’m really sorry things are going like this and I’m really sorry if I have led you on and made you think things that I really didn’t want to happen. Oh, I’m rambling aren’t I?” I was trying to get it all out before I lost my nerve.

“A bit. What’s going on Jenny, are you dumping me?”

“Oh Paul it’s not like that, really it’s not. I can’t lead you on any further is all, I have to move to Australia in the New Year and I don’t want to fall for you any more than I already have.” Tears started to sting the back of my eyes.

“Can’t we be together until you go then?” He asked hopefully. “I do understand what you’re trying to do and I really hoped it wasn’t really going to happen as I knew it might.” I could hear his emotions were only just under control as well.

“I was really falling for you and I didn’t want to take it any further. I still daren’t Paul, I really do like you and it’s no use, we’re not going to be able to be together, so it’s better we stop now, before we hurt too much.” I started to sob quietly, hoping he wouldn’t hear.

“Don’t cry Jen, please, it hurts me so much to hear you like this.” I could hear his voice breaking as well.

“Goodbye Paul, I’m really really sorry,” I managed to squeeze between the sobs. I put the phone down - my shoulders, held rigid before, slumped and I allowed myself a quiet cry.

Slowly I gathered my wits and stumbled off to bed, knowing that I’d be poor company if I went and watched TV with mum and dad.
“Night mum, dad, I’m going to see if I can get some beauty sleep — I think at this point I really need it.” I tried to sound cheerful — it sounded like I was Captain Oates about to go outside for the last time.

“Night darling,” Mum called from the lounge, “Don’t forget your homework.”

I suddenly realised that I hadn’t done any. Damn, now I wasn’t going to be able to slip into the arms of Morpheus for two hours.

Wendy was waiting as usual at the bus stop in the morning.
“No traumas this morning then?” One eyebrow was raised quizzically.

“I finished it all last night,” I looked quickly away not confident I wouldn’t burst into tears yet again. “I phoned him and told him it was all off.” I added when I felt strong enough.

Wendy whistled through her teeth, “That must have been awful, for both of you, he was really besotted with you, you know.”

“Yeah, I know, we both nearly caved in last night, but I think sense prevailed.
Did you finish that translation last night — it was demonic.” I changed the subject, knowing my heart wouldn’t take too much more.

That day wasn’t as bad as the one previous, but it was bad enough. The teachers all put it down to me having my time of the month so were quite nice to me.
I showed Wendy and Carol the house brochure at lunch time and several others peeked over my shoulder and all were impressed and a bit jealous. They weren’t sure they would want to live in a red desert though even if the house was nice. When I showed them the estate with the green trees and park like surrounds, they were really jealous. It cheered me up a bit. (What a bitch I am!)
…………………………..

“The Doctor will see you now.” The secretary looked over her glasses at me. She was new and probably wondered why I was seeing a shrink at my age. For, one thing I knew, I did not look like someone going through transition.

“Come in Jenny, have a seat,” she was over sitting on the green leather lounge chair checking her notes as I came in. As I settled, she closed her notes and put them on the coffee table in front of her. “Those are from the previous patient, I haven’t got your notes out, I don’t think we need them. I’ll just make a note that you attended.”

“Does that mean you’ve shrunk me down to size at last?” I smiled at her, truly thankful this was my last real interview.

“You look a bit sad Jenny, what’s the problem?” She was pretty good, I had tried to be upbeat when I came in.

“You’re really very good at this aren’t you? I was trying to cover it up.”

“No last minute second thoughts?”

“Nah, I just broke up with my boyfriend last night and I’m bouncing along the bottom with the hook still in my guts like a fishing lure.” I’ve no idea where that came from but it fitted quite well.

“Well these things are seldom terminal, and we really need to discuss next month’s little duel with the scalpel.” She looked to see what reaction I would have to the word scalpel.- None.

“I’m looking forward to getting to the end of this particular problem, it’s not easy being at a girls’ school and sporting a boy’s operating equipment.”

“I hope you haven’t been sporting it!” She looked at me with feigned shock.

“No, of course not but it stops me being quite as natural as I might like. Particularly with boyfriends. It’s been really nice in some ways and really horrible in others.”
Imagine going to the movies knowing there’s going to be a bit of hanky panky and knowing there’s no way you’re going to let him go any further than.. well you get my drift.” I blushed a bit, but Julie grinned and seemed to understand the dilemma.

“Well, you seem to have survived. Would it have been so awful if he’d found out?”

“Considering I’d sat next to him for 2 years in primary school yes I think it may have been a case of him letting the dragon off and slaying the virgin.”

“Ah yes, I see. Not the best way to find out.
If you’d not been going to Switzerland, do you think you’d have been able to continue and hope he didn’t find out?”

“To be honest, because the scenario was always with me exiting stage left, I never gave it a moment’s thought. However I didn’t think I’d start to fall in love so fast either.” I thought about the word before I uttered it but it still took me by surprise.

“Do you think you were falling in love then?” Julie latched onto the word quite quickly.

“I think so. My world was full of only him, whether at school at home, in bed or asleep, dreaming. I thrilled at his voice on the phone, my nerves tingled when he held my hand. I swam in his eyes. To be honest I clichéd myself to death every minute with him.” I started to look wistful and sad again

“I think you may well be right, and now is not the time to be dwelling on it — we have more important matters to discuss. Like How’s your school work holding up and have you made any new friends?

“Absolutely. I’m a pretty confident and cute girl most of the time — I only fall apart when I’m forced to choose between a gorgeous guy and a flight to the other side of the world to live in a mansion and attend a new school. No not a new school, a BRAND NEW school.” I grabbed the brochure that I’d brought to show Wendy and Carol and passed it over to Julie. “That’s our new home.”

“Impressive, Daddy must be very good at his job to get that built for him.”

“Daddy was saying that it doesn’t take as long to build over there, they reckon a house like that of 5000 square feet would only take four months to build. Something to do with the techniques involved.” I was spouting second hand knowledge but it sounded good.

“Right Jenny, we seem to have covered how you’re doing, how your future is sounding, how you feel about your op — how your schoolwork is going and how your friends are helping.” She smiled at my fish face.
“Well, I have to admit to engineering the conversation just a little bit.”
“Tell May, my new secretary that I’d like to see you on the 18th December — she consulted her diary. That’s not good; make it the 17th that’s a Friday. Your op is on the Monday after that — going to be a big weekend and Christmas isn’t it?”

“Do all your secretaries have months of the year as names?” I giggled as I rose and grabbed my school bag. My watch said 20 to 6.

“Well I haven’t met too many girls called November, so I’m not sure that I’ll try too hard to use it as a criterion.” Julie got the last word as usual. She ushered me out and Mum was waiting in the vestibule — “Hi Beth, we’re all done, see you next month with missy here if you can make it, I’d like to see how you’re all holding up then. If that’s OK?”

“No, that sounds fine, I think we’ll all be a bit nervous by then and I might bring Mike in as well.” Mum smiled at Julie and led me out to the car.

“Oops, I didn’t make the appointment for next month.” I ran back in and Julie looked at me with a question mark over her head. ‘Am I learning a new language here?’ I thought. “Forgot to make the 17th appointment next month. Could you put me down May?”
Julie looked at me and said “Make your mind up — December or May?” and grinned at me again.
I shook my head ruefully and returned to the car.

Jennifer Christine
The continuing story of Jenny Holland

Part 13

The fact I was hurting numbed me slightly to the impending procedure.
Until I received in the post a large envelope marked with the clinic’s logo.
It was waiting for me when I got home the day after my appointment with Julie.
I’d just left Wendy with a jovial. “See ya”, and turned my key in the door.

“Hi Jenny” mum called out. “There’s a letter for you in here.” I could tell from the tone of her voice that it wasn’t a normal letter; something in the tension in her voice relayed the importance of me seeing it straight away.

I felt my heartbeat rise, I have no idea why, but my psyche must have as I’d probably been in denial a bit over the last weeks as my future got a bit closer each day.

I dropped my bag by the stairs and walked almost warily into the kitchen peering round the door like a cat before entering. The buff envelope was on the kitchen counter. I could see the colourful Swiss Stamp on it from the door.

I looked over at mum — she was wearing one of those smiles that say, “You know what this is and I know you’re going to be bouncing off the walls or crying in a minute and I feel for you.”

“Well I guess you’d better open it, I’ll put the kettle on,” she volunteered with a sort of merry macabre hint in her voice.

I picked it up and walked to the kitchen table and sat down. Yes, there on the back next to the seal was the Clinic Logo. It was my final notice. My future had caught up to me.

I could feel a sort of prickly sensation as I pulled the tab and the contents spilled onto the table.

The cover letter was uppermost.
Dear Jennifer Holland
Please read the following carefully………….. and contact us if you have any questions.

I read through it quickly.

Several stapled bundles were included.
“What you need to take with you.”
“How to get from the Airport to the Clinic”
“Preparations before you leave home.”
“What to do if you can’t proceed with the operation.”
“Outcomes”
“Post op”

It totalled a pile of about 20 sheets.

There was also a brochure on the nursing home I’d be in after the op. It looked like a resort a bit back from Lake Leman on which Geneva sits.
Looking at the blurb it seemed I’d be in Hospital for three days then transferred to the Nursing Home. That is until the doc said I could go.

Four weeks from now I’d be in there. With it all behind me ( I hope).I pondered the way I’d be feeling as mum plonked the tea down.

“Come on then — spill.” She urged gently.

I looked at her and pushed the major part of the stuff over to her to scan. I was looking at the folder marked. “Preparations before you leave home.”
There was whole blurb about making sure you were as fit as possible and walking a mile or two in the weeks leading up to the op — stopping HRT — losing excess fat.

Basically all those things that speed up recovery.

Until it got down to a section about the day before you front up for surgery.
Like getting some stuff called Fleet and drinking it the night before.
“What’s fleet mum?” I asked — wondering if it was a dietary supplement.

Mum looked at me and had a sort of squinty grin on her face.

“What?” I frowned at her silly grin.

“Oh you’re going to love that.” She offered a little tit-bit.

“Come on, out with it.” I urged drumming my fingers on the table top then taking a sip of tea, to calm my rising state of nerves.

“Ah well, before I had you and Nigel, and I mean right before, when I was going into labour, I had to clean myself out in case of whatever — well in case the pressure made me,” she hesitated, “Well incontinent, bowel wise I suppose.”

I coloured up, “you mean it flushes out my bowels?” I wasn’t really concerned, but it was like I was going to have a baby or something, I was identifying with mum.

“Oh yes, it certainly does that.” She grinned and squeezed my arm with a little supportive gesture. “It’s not bad, but it is a little undignified. You end up sitting on the toilet for about 30 minutes as it shoots through you.”

She peered over my shoulder, yes; you don’t get to eat anything after that, so it’ll be last thing at night on Sunday. I suppose you’d better have your last proper meal on Sunday lunch.”

It was getting a bit adjacent. I sucked up a huge breath, I didn’t realise I’d been holding it. I was sweating a bit.

“Are you ok pet?” Mum put her hand on my forehead and then round my shoulder and gave me a squeeze. “Don’t worry darling, you’ll be fine. It just seems a bit hurdle at the moment and a sort of apex point in your life. I know how you feel — I think.
Knowing you’re going to be drinking Fleet is like an inclusive ceremony for women!”

I was just staring into space a bit — I think the adrenalin had kicked in and given me an endorphin high or something.

“Yeah I’m okay–it’s suddenly here isn’t it? And I’ve been sort of putting off thinking about it–” I looked back at the paperwork. “What’s an inflatable Doughnut?”

Mum agve a little giggle. “Something you sit on when you’re a bit sore down there.” She pointed at my nether regions. “You’re going to need it on the plane home I’d say.”

“Oh God, this really is going to be undignified isn’t it?” I grinned and blushed again.

“I’ve got to get some maxi-pads as well and loose panties. M-u-u-u-m…. H-E-L-P. This is like all those nightmares about being naked in front of the school rolled into one.”

Mum looked at me with a sort of sympathetic grimace. “You’re going to be walking like John Wayne after three days in the saddle as well. So I think you’d better resign yourself to being totally out of service and just be grateful you’re in Switzerland where no one knows you.”

“Can I have a sugar sack to put over my head like John Merrick?”

“Who?”

“Elephant Man. That was his name.”

Mum shook her head and laughed. “By New Year it’ll all be behind you and you’ll wonder what the fuss was about. Off you go and get changed, I’ll put these away for you and I’ll sort out a little grip bag and start getting this stuff together. Then you won’t have to worry your pretty little head over it.” She patted my bum towards the stairs and went back to the stove to stir whatever was making that lovely smell.

I was still upstairs when Dad came in. I was just about to head down when I heard him laughing uproariously. No doubt it was about the Fleet! And ALL those other things. Sheez what price being a girl.

When I did get downstairs, I slipped quietly into the kitchen and dad looked round and immediately came over and gave me a hug.
I love my Dad, I do!

“Well princess, it’s all about to happen isn’t it?”
“Well I for one will enjoy a nice Christmas Holiday in Switzerland. Even if I have to spend a bit of it nursing my beautiful daughter.” He squeezed my shoulder like mum had a few minutes previously, then helped himself to a whisky into which he dropped a solitary piece of ice. I grimaced and he chuckled. “I’m looking forward to some duty free as well! This stuff is so weak that one piece of ice and the flavour is all gone. Mmmm Kirsch and Schnapps… yummy.” He was dreaming as he stirred his drink with his finger then sucked off the precious liquid with relish.

Later on I sat on my bed and read the final two clipped together sets of sheets.
Outcomes.
It appeared that I could be anywhere from completely numb to being over sensitive to the point that I wouldn’t be able to sit down. But in reality most were somewhere in between and quite normal. I should be able to reach orgasm and maybe even be self lubricating.
I flushed a bit as I really hadn’t spent too much time thinking about my sexuality or the act itself. Though it did make me feel very sad that Paul wasn’t likely to be anywhere in the picture. It’d be fun finding out…. I flushed again. This is all a bit more than I’m prepared for at the moment.

Then I read about the dilators….. and flushed enough to set off a fire detector.

I determined I’d talk with Wendy about this — I wanted to know if normal girls had to do anything like that — somehow I doubted it and also I had to admit I’d never heard of it.
I hadn’t been the biggest male on the block when it came to wedding tackle and the brochures had mentioned that the more you had, the more vagina you’d end up with.
I hoped I had enough. But then it did say that skin could be ‘borrowed’ from the inside of the thigh, which sounded very uncomfortable. I pictured myself in a Texan hat and a six gun standing next to Big John Wayne — I had to giggle at that point as only the walk would be the same — nothing remotely like John Wayne was living in this house.
Mid you with a name like Marion, who’s to know?

“You’ve got to do WHAT?” Wendy’s eyes were like saucers, “It’s how big?”
I repeated the info from the brochure.” It’s 1 3/8” diameter and 10 inches long.
Is that big?” I asked naively .

“The very thought brings tears to my eyes.” Wendy said then adjusted it slightly. “Though I’m not sure whether it’s joy or envy.” She giggled, and then fell about laughing.
I felt a little short of 1.5 inches high. Barely enough to peer over the dilator in question …

“Does it vibrate?” She smirked and then grabbed her tummy and rolled around the bus shelter unable to control herself. “Can I borrow it sometimes if I’m lonely?” She shook to the roots of her being.

“I wish I hadn’t told you now.” I was a little antsy and annoyed at her lack of fellow feeling. Though I think it was making me less nervous about the whole thing. Girls don’t seem as hung up about their bodies as boys do.

The bus pulled up and she grabbed me round the waist, “Come on girlfriend let’s get to school and you can regale me later with your wonderful Christmas Story.” At which point she shut up about the whole thing and I began to relax — she really was a friend — she wasn’t going to ridicule me in front of the rest of our friends or even those we didn’t know.
“Can I tell Carol?”
“I suppose” I relented.
She giggled — “this is going to be so different!”

Later in the Lunch Hour we sat in a class room as it was throwing it down outside and I passed the brochure over to Carol — I gestured to keep it quiet with a single finger across my lips — she nodded.

Slowly as Wendy and I watched her, her eyes went rounder and rounder and her mouth went ‘O’ Shaped as she sat up straight like she’d been goosed.
She looked at me and then at Wendy with a ‘you have got to be kidding me’ look.
We both nodded and she started to smirk and flush up. Within a few moments she was almost unable to contain her glee and went out of the room — ostensibly for a pee, but we heard her down the passageway squealing — so we followed her out and tracked her by the squeals.
When we reached her, she had tears running down her face — “I have got to get me one of those.” — She pointed at the brochure. “I’d never need a boyfriend again.”
Then we all fell about as she asked, “Does it vibrate?”
By the time we returned to the classroom everyone was worried that there was a nitrous oxide leak somewhere.

Sometimes the silliest things break the tension or tickle the funny bone and this one was just one of those things.
They both clamoured to make me promise to show me the monster when I got it back from Switzerland.
“As long as you don’t want to see it in action.” I said and they both cracked up yet again.

“You look pleased with yourself,” mum said as I entered the kitchen.

“Nothing really.” I replied. Just Wendy and Carol went into hyterics when they heard about the size of the largest dilator.

“Oh I didn’t read that bit yet, how big IS it?” Mum queried.
“About ten inches long and nearly 1  ½ inches wide” I didn’t really want to tell her but I was trying to be nonchalant.
Mum spluttered, “That’ll be nice dear.” She looked at me and I looked at her and slowly the giggles started. We were laughing fit to bust when Dad came in.
We tried to compose ourselves but dad noticed we were nearly hiccupping and our eyes were streaming.
“Well whatever it is, can I hear it?” dad looked askance at me and gave mum a full eyeball.
“No dear, Girl Talk, not for tender ears such as yours.” Mum shook her head and went back to shelling peas. Dad looked back and forth between me and mum and then left to clean the shed. “Women.” I heard as he shut the door to the garden.

After reading through the whole lot of paperwork again, there didn’t seem to be anything that was or ought to be a problem so I started my homework I had to do some trigonometry so I grabbed a rule and some compasses.

I opened my book to a clean sheet . Suddenly I though “how big IS 10” x1.5” and drew two lines ten inches long 1 3/8” apart.
I joined the ends with an ellipse. — I pulled the ruler from the paper and looked at this little drawing. The colour drained from my face and I felt a bit sick.
That is one big dilator. I couldn’t believe this was supposed to go inside me….
How big were guys anyway? I’d never seen a guy with a hard on not a fully grown one anyway. Mine was pretty insignificant but then I never reached a male puberty so I didn’t expect it to be.
Nigel wasn’t around to ask so I was left to imagine and the more I imagined, the more I felt a bit ill.
I went and sought out mum.

“I’m a little worried mum, that dilator thing, is that big? I don’t know what is big and what isn’t and I just took a look at a ruler and I suddenly realise that’s a big piece of …. machinery to try to insert into me. Are guys that big?” I sounded like a six year old…

Mum looked at me and smiled gently. “If you ever see a man that big, I’d suggest you become his agent and push him into porn movies. No pet, they’re not normally that big. I guess 7 inches and 1  ¼ across is pretty much it. — any bigger and it can get a bit uncomfortable unless you’re used to it.
There’s a lot of difference between 1  ¼ and 1 3/8 as well.

I felt a bit of relief, I was wondering what I was letting myself in for and when I thought of the words ‘letting myself in for’ — I almost squeaked.
Maybe it was going to be ok — I thought Wendy and Carol had gone a bit overboard then a dastardly idea struck me.

It was Saturday and I met up with Wendy and Carol to go shopping — well window shopping anyway. I casually mentioned when we were walking through a department store that I’d spoken with mum about the ‘you know what’.

“She said that 10 x 1.5 was about normal for a fully gown man and that up to the age of about 16 or 17 they were a lot smaller. I saw a look of panic on Wendy’s face and a look of horror on Carol’s. Mum said dad is a lot bigger than that.” I kept my face straight, which was a miracle
Carol staggered sideways into a rack of clothing which nearly upturned itself. And Wendy’s face had gone a bit chalky.
“What’s up with you two?” I asked innocently.

“Nuh nuh nothing”, Carol looked really odd. Her face had gone a bit blotchy and she was looking like she’d swallowed her tongue. Wendy wasn’t much better.

“Perhaps that’ll teach you for frightening me the other day.” I sniggered.

They chased me through so many stores, that we had to backtrack to see the new stuff we’d missed.

I did find a long and warm looking felted woollen skirt for when I was in Switzerland outside and unable to wear pants (after the op). Pants wouldn’t look good with the amount of underwear and bandages I was going to be wearing in the nether regions and apparently I’d be quite swollen too — so pants are out.

I thought a dirndl might be quite the thing, but the corset looked a bit constrictive. Plus I’d have to wait til I got onto the continent.

When I got home mum said that Nigel had rung and asked if he could bring his girlfriend for Christmas Dinner as her folks were going to be away. He’d forgotten we were going to be away as well.
“I reckon we need to buy him a wall chart with time lines on it that he can fill in. Like the ones they use for annual holidays in workplaces.” I ventured.
“He’d cover it in footy fixtures and forget what the calendar was for in the first place.” Mum was trying not to sound cynical, but it came out like an indictment of teen men. I could see she wasn’t happy about it but there wasn’t anything I could say.

I showed mum the skirt and she reckoned it was really warm looking — “I thought I’d check it out and wear it to the flicks at the weekend.”I said holding it in front of me. Then I thought about Paul and the colour drained out of my day.
Mum saw my expression. “Someone walk over your grave?”
“I was just thinking about wearing it to the cinema at the weekend and it reminded me of Paul.” My lip was starting to curl a bit so I took a deep breath.

Mum looked at me, “Still getting flashes eh?”

I nodded, looking a bit glum.

“Are you sure you wouldn’t consider going out with him again after we get back? We’ve still got a couple of months before we go to Oz.” Mum looked at me for a reaction.

I didn’t dare commit my voice so I just shook my head and tried not to let the tears squeeze out from my eyes.

“Ok, off you go and get washed up for tea, Dad’ll be home in a minute.” Letting me off the hook.

I sat on my bed as my head went into a spin — should I or shouldn’t I?
I knew the answer; I wanted to — I really wanted to, but I knew that to do so would be the end of it all. It would all end in pain. He would find out and I would be left with nothing but guilt and shame.

I really needed to speak to Julie, but it had nothing to do with the transition side of things.

Suddenly I realised that I shouldn’t really be sad, I had found a really nice guy who really liked me and we’d had a really nice few weeks and that was all it was about — I was only 15 and I wasn’t going to die of old age.

Perhaps I would see him after my op — just so we could part as friends and not hate each other.

I wanted to ring him straight away but knew that would be foolish as it would leave us both where we were before. I’d speak to him tomorrow after school at the coffee shop.

I went down looking almost normal and hugged Daddy as he came through the door. “Hello Daddy, how’re doing?” I smiled up at the man who is being my rock — the only man in my life — at least for a while.

“Hello precious, that’s a nice welcome.” and his arm went round me and clutched me to him as he kissed my forehead and returned my smile.

I’ll survive.

The Way Things Happen
Jennifer Christine
The continuing story of Jennifer Holland

“Okay the luggage allowance is 14 kilos each.
I’ve got the bathroom scales here so when you’ve packed your bag, bring it down and well trim it up for size.. well weight anyway.” Mum harrumphed.

“I don’t think I’ve got 14 kilos of clothes that I can wear in Switzerland, I’ve been collecting summer stuff because we’re going to Oz..”

Every few minutes I’d space out, this is it, the big moment, alles umsteigen, all change! Only 5 days til I can’t spell my name in the snow.

“Well the return might be different, there may be one or two things coming back with us, so leave a bit of room.” Mum got the last word in.

Daddy wobbled his eyes and winked at me. I ducked and flushed and turned my back to hide my bright red face. “Sorry pet, couldn’t resist. You have to admit though it’s a bit new isn’t it?” Daddy was being as nice as pie considering this was costing an arm and a leg (not to mention the penis).

“Well I’m glad it’s nearly here and I can get it over with. The last week or two has been murder and I’m tired of thinking about it. I keep thinking what could go wrong — I hate the doctor for putting that ‘outcomes’ part in the envelope — it was both shocking and kinda scary.” I paused, thinking about the wording of the letter. ‘You may or may not be capable of Orgasm etc etc’. How insensitive can you get?

“Stop worrying, they have to put that in to cover their liability insurance, I’ve spoken with the doctor and he’s NEVER had a bad outcome and apparently he’s done quite a few of these operations.” Dad put on his reassuring hat and continued to try to fold his trousers neatly.

“Why don’t you lay those in the case open and put a pullover on top, then fold the leg of the pants over the pullover? There won’t be a crease in them then.” Dad looked at me, and shook his head, smiling.

“Well you’re certainly done and dusted mentally, you know all the secret women’s business — it’s just the ‘nip and tuck’ now isn’t it?” He did as I suggested “Voila” - he closed the case lid — “just the toilet bag to go in now and that can go in on Saturday afternoon afore we hi-tail it out of here.” He tipped the metaphorical Stetson on his head and grabbed the metaphorical braces and left — stage left.

I grinned and shook my head — “D-a-ad, mum wants to weigh the case, take it with you . He slunk back in ad grabbed the handle and dragged it off the bed. Whereupon the whole contents fell onto the floor — he hadn’t latched the lid.

I looked at his face and he looked at mine, I started to gurgle and whistle as he lowered himself to his knees and whimpered theatrically then thumped his forehead. Ten minutes later he’d repacked it all — this time with the lid latched.

Mine was done too so I followed him down.
We sat quietly at the kitchen table ticking off our lists. Mum had been thorough and organised us all like the sheep we appeared to be. “Thanks Beth,” Daddy kissed mum on the forehead and helped himself to the scotch — what would you like pet?”
Mum and I both answered together, “White wine please.” Of course I only got lemonade but then I knew I would.

“Ok. Last day of school tomorrow, is there anything you need for that?” Mum marked her place on the list with her pencil and looked up at me.
“No, and I could be home by 3, as they want to pack up as soon as possible. But I may go into town so don’t expect me til the shops shut — I haven’t finished my crimbo shopping yet.” I added, thinking about the few things I had left to get.

I was just thinking it would be nice for Nigel to come over on Saturday to see us off when Daddy said, “Nigel’s coming over on Saturday to drive us to the airport. He’d better not be late it will be packed driving down to Manchester.”

“You’re letting him drive your car? Ooooh that’s risky. Let’s hope it isn’t icy.” I teased dad, knowing Nigel had only had his license a short time. He wasn’t a bad driver though — just not very mechanical. I watched dad go into a trance as he thought about pirouetting down the motorway, then he shook his head and glowered at me sternly.

“Don’t do that minx!” Then he grinned and shook his head one more time to rid himself of the apparition. The ghost of future yet to come…

So started the countdown.
The next morning I bounced out of bed — which was a miracle as I had lain wide awake for ages, it seemed, last night. But when I did drop off I was obviously dead to the world as my batteries felt fully charged and amazingly high voltage.

This was probably caused by the hormone surge due to withdrawal — my breasts were as sore as anything and my nipples were like organ stops nearly continuously — I had to put some tissue in my bra to camouflage the protuberances.
When I thought about it, I had got over all that clothing stuff fairly lightly — it had come naturally and without trauma. I didn’t particularly like pantyhose or tights and I hated stockings. Bras were a necessary nuisance and heels were not even in my wardrobe unless you counted the blocky heeled school shoes. I didn’t need heels so I wasn’t going to wear them.
I did have some ballet slippers and sandally things but nothing very glamorous — how many 15 year olds had high heels? Carol and Wendy didn’t. Joanne refused to even look at a pair. Though she did have some court shoes — but they were only an inch and a half.
I did have a pair of nice leather boots though and I was wearing them — since my legs would have been like blocks of ice. And no one was going to give me a hard time on the last day of school!

It was due to be a relaxed day as we were just there to hand in stuff and make sure the reports were handed out and the end of term results with them — that was important for me as they would be quite detailed and given to my new school in Brisbane when I got there. We got to look at them as they were handed out in the final class before lunch.

There were always those unfortunates with, ‘could do better’, or, ‘needs to concentrate more’ followed by a C- or a D. You could see who they were, furrows were across their brow or a tear glistened. But there weren’t many.
We were given a class place too — I’d got 3rd in the class of 24 and Wendy had 5th. So we weren’t overly concerned with the comments as they were in the spirit of, ‘Well done, a good term’s work’.

Mine instead of a foolscap sheet was a sheet from each teacher on the syllabus covered and how I’d understood each part — so it was pretty thorough — but boring nonetheless as it came under the usual ‘A’ delineation, ‘Jenny is a good student and will do well’. I was more than happy with my first terms as a girl.
I’m sure my boy’s report wouldn’t have been quite as nice. I remembered myself being less driven and less likely to push myself.

Class was out and everyone had big grins on their faces. Some of the girls were dishing up their makeup whilst waiting for the bus. Little makeup mirrors flashed the sun hither and thither. Everyone was heading into town to celebrate break up and do some shopping. It was quite hectic getting on the bus. A lot more crowded than usual but us four managed to find a seat upstairs and we headed off to town and ‘Grounds’ coffee house.

“Have you got Paul a present?” Carol asked carefully, checking that I didn’t burst into tears or throw myself off the top of the bus.

“Just a little one, it’s a chunky silver bracelet with his name on it, it wasn’t expensive.” I lied — truthfully it had nearly bust me but I wanted to make him remember me — I really didn’t want to let him go and my heart still galloped when I thought of his warmth and his soft lips.. Maybe when we’re settled we can get back together. I knew it was a desperate plea to the fates, but where there’s hope there’s a chance.

Carol read my thoughts, “Yeah sure, whatever you say. I’m really sorry you two won’t be together, you make a great couple.”

I looked at my hands in my lap and bit my lip — tears were never far away and Carol wasn’t being insensitive; well just a little anyway. I sucked it up and looked back up and smiled at her. “Yes it would have been nice, but I won’t even be here over Christmas.”

The girls’ memories flashed back up and they all looked at Jenny with that warmth and love that was a mark of true friendship. As one they all reached out mentally with all their support and love. “Wow what a Christmas present,” was all Wendy said.

When we got off in town it seemed there were hundreds of school children there — mainly because there were hundreds of school children there. We headed to the café and it was so packed that there wasn’t even standing room. So we went round to the arcade and had a mooch in one or two shops and chatted about what we were getting our folks.

I saw a lovely pair of driving gloves that Nigel would love so I got them and a Porsche key fob to impress his girlfriends until they saw he drove a Ford Escort with a dented wing. I would have to wrap that for tomorrow — I intended to get something in Geneva for mum and dad until I realised I wouldn’t be walking far and suddenly I went all hot and cold and had to sit down.

“What’s up,” Wendy leaned over and looked into my eyes which had gone a bit round.

“Oh just pre-op nerves.” I tried to be casual but my face gave it away, I’d gone a bit white..

“Let’s get you home,” Carol tried to make a decision.

“No, no! — I need to get mum and dad a pressy and it’s my last chance really as I’ll be with mum tomorrow and she’ll see what I get her.” I gathered myself up and shot out of the chair I’d plonked in. “Let’s go look in Debenhams.” I took control — I had to otherwise we’d have got nothing done.

I got home at 4pm after all as I didn’t get to have a coffee — every café was stuffed to the gills with schoolies. I didn’t see Paul which was just as well really.
I retired to my room and slipped the presents for mum and dad in my case and left Nigel’s out — I’d wrap it later.

When I got downstairs there was a present on the table and the name on it was mine — I recognised Paul’s handwriting. I smiled and held it up to my ear and rattled it. It rattled like a bracelet! There WAS a God.

The smile was still on my face after dinner. I helped with the washing up as I didn’t have school tomorrow — but I did have an appointment with Julie.

I retired early that night to get as much sleep as I possibly could — there was a lot to get in in the next few days and it seemed my life was to be curtailed for a few weeks after. Like planning for the flu!

I wrapped mum and dad’s present before I turned in. I hope dad still wore shirts that needed cufflinks — I hadn’t checked — blimey do they wear long sleeve shirts in Oz?
No matter, it’s the thought that counts and dad’s the boss so he’ll be wearing Boss type shirts; smart as ninepence! Mum’s bound to like the Chanel #5, I don’t know a woman who doesn’t — the cost was a bit rich, but that’s ok! I may even borrow a little now and then…

Sleep…

“Jenny, better get your bottom out of that bed or I’ll be coming with a cattle prod.
EEK — 3 days to go.
I was out before my eyes were open — I felt like I was on speed — The woods are lovely, dark and deep, But I have promises to keep, And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
Robert Frost’s words sprang to my head.

It wasn’t so much the forest I was thinking about but promises to keep.
Appointments and seeing the girls before I went to meet my maker — almost literally (I hoped)
The end was so close I could smell it and suddenly — I was calm.

It didn’t matter, it really was out of my control — I go to my fate with a steady hand.
There were no tumbrels now, nor a green mile. I was going to be whole not diminished — I was being unbroken.

I walked into the kitchen with my chest out and my head clear. “Morning Mummy, can I have toast this morning, it feels a bit cold to be eating corn flakes and porridge is just so gluggy..”

Mum peered over at me through a hank of hair that had come loose over her eyes, “Someone’s feeling chipper this morning.”

“I just realised as I came down stairs, that no matter what happens now, I’m going to be in Geneva on Sunday and under the knife on Monday. Sure as eggs is eggs, to quote someone — probably Mark Twain.” I added noconsequentially.

“There’s a lot of things to do before then, so don’t relax to much missy. First off Julie.
You’ve twenty minutes before you leave here so toast is probably a good idea.” She popped a couple of slices into the toaster. “Jam or Marmalade?”

“Marmalade please mummy.” I smiled dreamily — nothing can phase me now.

“Come on Jenny snap out of it, you’re acting like you’ve been hit with a wet kipper.”

“Oh, sorry mum, I think I’m on an endorphin high or something — caused by the adrenalin rush of possible immediate demise.”

“Calm before the storm eh?” Mum passed my chair and gave my shoulder a squeeze. She leaned over and whispered in my ear. “Your toast is burning.”

Eek! I roused and had my brekkers. A nice cup of coffee and I was ready to have a chat with anyone who cared to pass the time of day — But Julie was first.

“Come right in Jenny, oh and you too please Beth” Julie called through the open door as we entered the clinic.
“I saw you drive up,” she offered in explanation of her clairvoyance. “Is mike coming in?”
“I don’t think so, he’s got a lot to tidy up before he knocks off and he’s going to be out of circulation until the new Year so he’s making sure it’s all done properly. He’s happy about things as they are and can’t see any problems from his point of view.” Mum explained briefly.
“Right Zero minus 3 eh?”
Mum and I nodded.
Any?
Mum and I shook our heads.
Coffee?
“No thanks I just finished one thanks.” I replied; mum said “ Yes please, I’d love one.”

“So you feel the future bearing down on you yet?” Julie looked at me for a reaction.

“On Wednesday I’d have said yes and I’m scared. Now I’m as calm as calm can be and I’m a bit surprised. Like I’ve reached the point of no return and the future is inevitable.”

Julie nodded, “It’s a common symptom, you’re mentally prepared and committed, there’s no panic. A bit like you’re about to step out on stage and you know all the words and have had plenty of practise.” She smiled and watched me for a few seconds.

I’ve got to say that the person sitting here in front of me is really something to behold, quiet, assured, confident…. You’re looking good too Jenny.” She snorted when I looked puzzled. “Sorry, I think you were preening so I just prodded you conscience.”

“I was, and you’re quite right — I shouldn’t be so smug.” I coloured up a bit. I really was a bit too big for my boots this morning.

“I think you should be a little careful Jenny, the high you’re on at the moment will be reflected in a low in a few days time. It’s called post-op blues and it can be quite devastating. I’m not trying to ruin your day; I’m just giving you a little insight so if you see it coming you know what it is. Ok?”

Julie was concerned and except that I trusted her so much, I would have almost been tempted to pooh pooh her and that might have been tragic.

“Thanks Julie, I’m really sorry if I’m full of it, I can’t seem to help it.” I started to feel like someone had pulled the plug out and the bath full of lovely warm water was disappearing down the hole. I reached out to mum’s hand for comfort.

“Now that’s more like it.” Julie smiled as the coffee arrived. “You’ve just grasped the significance of the moment.”

We chatted on a bit and I felt a little lonely, like only I knew how it felt to be lined up in someone’s sights — even if it was only a surgeon’s. Mum’s hand was warm and comfortable, I’m very glad it was there today.

Julie went over the things that I’d be feeling for the next few days — pain — misery — frustration — fear — euphoria and depression. She explained why I would feel them and how I was to try to overcome them and allow myself to ride evenly over the trauma my body was about to undergo.

I hadn’t really thought about it and it opened my eyes a bit. I didn’t like pain and I wasn’t keen on depression. Euphoria was more than I wanted to feel and fear was something I wasn’t really familiar with.

We went over them one by one and Julie showed mum how they might manifest and how to keep me in touch with my reality.

It was a different interview style, but at the end of it I felt pretty thankful Julie was my shrink.

“Well happy Christmas to the Holland family and especially to you Jenny, I hope it is all you hoped it would be.” She gave me a hug then mum we said our farewells and we exited into the street feeling a little subdued — I for one had been firmly put in my place and told in no uncertain terms what was about to happen. It didn’t scare me any more and I wasn’t euphoric. I was a little anxious and a little scared and that is how it should be. Only a fool throws caution to the wind.

“Let’s go get a coffee and a piece of cake at the Lyons Tea House.” Mum was right on the money — a sugar hit would make me feel less abnormal!

This is a short fill in chapter in preparation for the event. It is built on the feelings I had when I was at this point — the classic short film “Incident at Owl Creek” has a similar feel. A sort of wakening dream quality — where you’re hurling toward the point you’ve been waiting for all your life and yet it doesn’t seem real.

“Right, Jenny — Beth, let’s sit down and see if we have everything we need.” Dad was into final mustering of the clan and checking ground zero was the function.

“Have you got your lists?” He said shaking his to show he was thus encumbered.
I shook mine at him like a shaman shakes a bag of bones and mum just looked through her eyebrows at him.

“Ok ok, just checking…. Now have you ticked off the items,” he looked at me over the top of his reading glasses like a latter day Mr Pickles.

“Look dad, this is the most important weekend of my life, do you really think I’m going to purposefully mess this up? I have a vested interest in not forgetting anything. Besides, I only have my clothes to pack, mummy said she was going to make sure all my ‘necessaries’ were going to be in that green bag over there,” I pointed to a bulging bag with wheels which had a sticker on the side with 24 lbs written on it in crayon — well it was a blunt pencil by the looks, but I was reminded of ‘Eric the half a bee’ halibut license skit from Monty Python. It was as relevant —we weren’t going to Kamchatka — just to the most central point of the richest nations in Europe where anything was available almost anytime.

Dad sighed and relented, “Ok does anyone have anything missing that they think they’re going to need over the next two weeks?”

We shook our heads.

“Bags all packed?”

We nodded our heads.

“Clothes for the journey laid out?”

We nodded our heads.

I smirked, “Ok daddy, I haven’t seen you nod to any of the above so are your things all laid out too?”

“No they’re not, they’re in my drawer and I have checked them off.” He replied smugly.

“Passports?” I asked.

Daddy pointed to the table — “Tickets are there in the envelopes too.”

“Chequebook?”

He patted his pocket.

“Are you wearing those tomorrow then?”
“No, I’m wearing my jeans, they’re more comfy.”

“I’d suggest putting the chequebook on the table with your passport then.” I took a breath, “Car keys?” I looked Daddy in the eye.

He sighed, got up and put his car keys and chequebook on the table. “Satisfied missy?” His chagrin was measureable. “Who’s organising who here anyway?” He queried frowning.

“We the committee, have taken it upon ourselves to check that all is properly carried out in an open and forthright manner so that all of us may be satisfied that the job has been worthily and well done.” I pulled at my imaginary braces and frowned at the questioner. “Like I said Daddy, I have a vested interest in making sure you get it right the first time.”

Dad smiled and sat down, “Thank goodness someone is old enough to start taking some responsibility. Meeting is adjourned.” He sprang up and uttered mum’s magic words, “Gin and tonic dear?”

Soon after that I was lying awake in bed remembering saying bye to Carol and Joanne and how they’d shed a tear and wished me luck. I promised to ring them after the op which was on Christmas Eve. I said not to worry if they didn’t hear as the connection might be hard to get on that day. They made me promise to try — so I had.
I put it on my list for mum and dad to do after I was back in the ward or wherever, I didn’t think I’d be up to much after the op. ( I didn’t know how right I would be!).

Now I’m lying here still awake two hours later. I got up and went to look for a cup of chocolate or something — mum and dad had retired but there was a light under their door. I wasn’t game to knock just in case, so I went and made myself a cuppa.

It was a good idea — I fell asleep soon after I drank it.

It was still dark when I came too but it was getting light — there was no point in trying to sleep in, my mind was twirling like a parasol. Small noises downstairs said that someone was already up — so it was time I fronted up.
I staggered through to the bathroom and relieved myself as the water warmed in the shower. I slipped of my robe and jammies and slipped into the warm stream of water.

I was soaping myself up when I realised that in one or two showers, there’d be less to dry! I looked down at the little vestiges that were left. “Goodbye little boy bits, I’m sorry that you weren’t allowed to get up to much.” I felt a tear rise but I shook it off, I wasn’t really doing anything more than feeling sorry for myself and that is a losing game every time. I finished up and dressed ready for the trip — loose jeans over thick tights and three layers up top! It’s cold in Switzerland and Jeans aren’t actually that warm unless you have layers under them.

As I descended the stairs, a warm waft of bacon aroma tickled my nostrils and I did the proverbial sniffing my way into the kitchen — “Yum, that smells so great first thing in the morning.”
“Good morning Pat, sleep well?” Mum smiled over at me as she dropped two slices into the toaster.

“Well, only after I came down and made myself some cocoa.” I said as I wrapped my arms round her waist in a morning hug — she was still facing the stove so it was just a warm greeting. I looked over her shoulder to see if she was doing tomatoes and mushrooms — a real treat… She was.

“Oh even more yum — ‘matoes and mushies, I’ll set the table — oh goddess of breakfast for weary travellers.”

“You haven’t been anywhere yet.” She replied laughing.

“I journeyed far from the Land of Nod to partake of this feast, I’ll have you know. I suffered hot rain and many encumbrances to be thus present.”

“You mean you had a shower and came downstairs.” She grinned and shook her head.

“One egg or two?”

“Definitely two, if it please your cookship.” I popped the lid off the teapot to check if it was steeped enough.

Dad took this opportunity to make his presence and we soon sat down to a wonderful English Breakfast.

“One more breakfast to go, kiddo, how’re ye feeling?” Dad smiled at me as he thrust some egg soaked bacon towards his face.

“Tentatively optimistic about sums it up. I can’t see anything that might upset the applecart.” I sliced off some toast and pied it with fried tomato. “As long as Nigel makes it on time, there’s no reason we should have the slightest worry..”

“Oh God, don’t say things like that, I’d better go and ring him to check he’s up and about.” Mum pulled her napkin off her lap and dried her mouth, ready to make the call.

“For God’s sake woman — he has time to WALK here. He’s not due for three hours and he only lives 25 minutes away.” Dad reached out and stopped mum from rising by applying pressure to her shoulder.

“You’re quite right,” she said, “I’m just wound up I suppose.” She resumed eating.

“I’ll wash up mum, you go and have a nice relaxing bath and get ready.” I offered, hoping it would get her mind off the day. It seemed silly really; it should be me suffering from the dropsies, not her. But mums are made to worry aren’t they?

Dad went out and checked the weather. It was 11 degrees and just a bit damp, mostly from dew. The sky was clearing and it would be a fantastic day to fly anywhere. I was really looking forward to seeing the Alps in this weather. I hope it is as clear there as it is here.

I could hear dad talking to someone and when he came in, Nigel was behind him. He’d woken early and decided to get moving. He looked over at me and the warmth in his eyes was just picturebook. He walked over and gave me a huge hug. “How’re doin’ baby girl?” He snuggled into my warm neck and gave me a really big squeeze.
“You smell like warm biscuits, and lavender soap.” He held me out at arms length and looked at me, “And you look awesome.”

Mum called down, surprise evident in her voice, “Is that Nigel?”

“Yes.” We all answered together, laughing.

“Thank you for relieving your mum of the worry of waiting for you.” She sang out. “I’ll see you after my bath.”

We wandered through and I made some toast and coffee for him while he regaled us with his exploits and sexual conquests from the last three months. It didn’t take long.
In fact the kettle had only just boiled when he was finished!

It seems the Uni was plagued by a rash of Ugly and most of the girls had caught it. Together with the work load it was hard to find time to drink enough beer to make at least one of them seem pretty enough to date. I smacked him round the ear to chastise him for his Chauvinistic attitude.

“Well I came home to find my ex-brother is prettier than any of the girls at uni. A sorry state indeed.” I forgave him for his indiscretion as it was, after all, a compliment.

Soon, Nigel had lugged all the bags out to the car and packed them neatly in the boot. Mum appeared looking refreshed and made up for the day. She fussed over Nige for a bit then settled to read the paper for a while.

Suddenly it was time to go. This is it. Zero Hour. Oh God, oh God, oh God.
Dad locked the door. Rusty had already gone over to the neighbour’s and was happy to do so considering the huge bone that always went with the transfer.
“Mount up, guys and gals.” Dad tried to be jovial — he’d just seen the sick look on my face. “Boys in the front, girls in back.”

It passed in a dream, the drive, the airport, checking in, they barely looked at my passport — I hadn’t even considered it might be odd.
The plane hurtled down the runway and leapt into the air like a dog chasing a cat up a tree. I didn’t have time to be nervous; everything was passing in a blur. Mum felt my brow at some point — “you ok honey?” from the stewardess.

I looked out over the Alps — 15 minutes out from Geneva Airport — still not taking much in but still able to marvel at the scene. The Alps. My Goodness, they were so beautiful; all bathed in icing sugar and brilliant in the sun.
Then we were down and undoing our seat belts.

Then next time I got on a plane, I would be fully female. Wow. In a week!

Dad took up the front and mum the rear, guiding me stumbling towards the door. I couldn’t shake this feeling of distance — dream like — unreal.
“Come on girl, frame yourself.” Mum chivvied me up the aisle. “You’re like a fart in a trance.”

As I stepped onto the tarmac, the chilled wind whistled round me and I started to come round. By the time we were in the baggage area, I had returned from my space journey. How weird is that?

“Welcome back,” My mum had noticed my eyes unglazing.

“Um, yeah, right. I was away with the fairies. Like there was no control. No idea why.” I shrugged off the moment that had taken two hours and we gathered our luggage onto a trolley and made for Douanne (customs).

The hotel was gorgeous sat back from the Lake but with a view. It was only a two minute walk from the Clinic so we’d be able to walk it on Monday morning no problem if there wasn’t a taxi available. That would be gallows sort of walk, I pondered. Then thought the opposite — more like a Gateway to the next part of my life.

It was getting late by now and the lift sped us down for a lovely meal. The last big meal I would have for a few days.
I had a wonderful Italian meal with a turkey schnitzel — how festive season is that?!
Followed by tiramisu — which I thought was Japanese until I tasted the coffee liqueur!
I even had a cup of expresso coffee in a tiny cup — it was wonderfully bitter and sweet at the same time.

I retired early — trying to get my beauty sleep — tomorrow was going to be a doozy.
I was sharing a room with mum and dad — it was a family room with two large doubles in it. They thought it would be a good idea as I would be in the hospital for most of the stay and if I was here, they could keep an eye on me too.
I took a while to get to sleep — I guess the coffee and the environment and the emotional state of play had a little to do with that.

Mum and dad went downstairs for a while after I was settled, I didn’t hear them return so I must have dropped off.

Tomorrow…..

Zero — minus 1.

Laying there in the morning light listening to mum and dad gently sleeping I pondered my immediate future.

After today, I’d no longer be left with a foot in both camps. Or is that 6 inches in the middle?
I reckon myself to be reasonably nice looking with a figure that was beginning to mature in a proper way. I was above average in mental ability, probably good enough to earn me a degree in all but the most dedicated of areas. I had a loving, supportive family. I was about to move to Australia and begin a new life as myself.

In 24 hours I’d be asleep while a surgeon reformed my nether regions into something more fitting. Turning my ‘outie’ into an ‘innie’ — I smiled at the terminology. They call it vaginoplasty, which sounds vaguely squirmy.

My heart beat a little faster when I thought about the end of today as all things were drawing to a point.
I had to see the doctor for a brief visit at 2pm for a quick appraisal.
If he thought it wise or whatever, I’d be admitted to the clinic tonight and be operated on at 7.30am. Or if all was ok or there was no other concerns, I’d be admitted in the morning. I’m not sure which I preferred. It wasn’t going to be fun lying here tonight knowing that dawn and the knife were awaiting me.

I decided to ask if I could be admitted tonight, so I’d already be there. I wonder if mum and dad would be upset. I’d wait til I’d seen the doctor I determined — I’m not convinced being in hospital overnight would be free…I don’t want this to coast any more than necessary.

I heard dad cough and scratch his head as he came out of his sleep. Mum turned over and put on the light.
“Morning blossom.” She was facing toward my side of the room so she could see me with my arms behind my head — obviously awake.
“Morning Mummy, morning Daddy.” I looked over at them as they sat up and stretched.
“How are you feeling this morning, getting nervous?” Daddy moved to get up then realised he couldn’t get out of bed.
I grinned and pretended to snuggle back down and turn slightly away. “It’s a bit scary, but I’m feeling resolved.” Dad managed to find his robe and covered up the obvious signs of a morning erection, and headed to the bathroom. I tried not to giggle.
(Honest)

As soon as mum heard him flush the loo she popped out of bed and grabbed some underwear, a pair of slacks and a jumper and headed for the bathroom too, leaving me to continue to ponder my day.

They obviously had a routine as I heard the shower start, the toilet flush again and the shower door open and close — like it was a batch plant. Dad came out still wearing his robe but was able to get dressed easily by turning his back and using the robe as cover. I often wondered about sharing a room and now I knew how it worked!

As soon as the shower stopped, I started to gather my things — knowing the time it took for mum to dress and vacate the bathroom — I changed places with her like clockwork and within minutes we were heading down for breakfast.

In the shower I had looked down as I washed my bits for the last time — well nearly — I would be shaving myself later and it would look different then. I was not sad to think it was not going to be there tomorrow. Well actually it was, but not in this formation.

“Do you want a walk down to the lake, or would you rather sit around and read?”
Mummy asked as we left the dining room after a substantial breakfast ( Well actually I ate very circumspectly — I had sausages, (but not bacon) tomatoes and scrambled egg with toast. Easily digested food!)

“I think a walk would be good, I’d rather be active. Have you got your camera?”

“We’ll have to go back to the room anyway, it’s only 6 degrees outside even if it is sunny and bright.” Mum replied. We were dressed warmly, but not for 6 degrees!!Brrr.

Presently we were walking along the lake shore and enjoying the sun on our faces.

“How are you coping sweetheart?” Daddy walked beside me with his arm round my shoulder. I leaned into him a little. I heard a snap from the camera.

“I’m ok Daddy, it’s pretty scary, but it’s more like a step then a leap, I’m not really worried but a little cautious about my expectations. Even if this doesn’t work out 100% it’s still going to be better than now. I hate being caught between a rock and a hard place.” I tried to put into words my inner state. I’m sure the doctor would ask me later and I wanted a formed statement I could use without ‘umming’ and ‘erring’.

“That’s a mature attitude: I think you’re very brave, I know I couldn’t do what you’re doing.” I looked up at him as he winced, I started to giggle.

“Well you’re not a girl, so you don’t expect to lose those bits. I’m not courageous; I’m just correcting something so I can get on with my life without worrying about my body being all wrong.” I smiled at him as the scenario of losing his bits played out — it was a minute or two before he got over it. A penis seems very important if you‘re a guy, I guess. Mum wandered along enjoying the Sunshine and clear air. She looked happy and relaxed. Occasionally she’d stop and take a snap of the lake or us.

There were a couple of small boats out on the lake and I was reminded of my summer, the beginning of my life.

Too soon I was sitting with the parental units either side of me in the Waiting room of the clinic.
Mum had filled in the form for me and I was staring into space. “Herre Doktor will sie sehen jetzt.” The nurse ushered us into the doctor’s office.
He came round the desk and met us halfway.

“Good Morning, I’m Doktor Kurt Drescher, I’ll be leading the operation tomorrow.” He sounded very efficient and direct — professional.

“Good morning Doctor, I’m Mike Holland and this is Beth, my wife, and our daughter, your patient, Jennifer.” Dad offered his hand and The doctor grasped it as the two men eyeballed each other for a second. It was like Daddy had said, ‘I’m trusting you with my daughter’s life’ and he said, ‘I will do all I can to keep her safe.’
Yet no words passed between them, the handshake took a little more time than a casual one.

The Doctor turned to mum and bowed slightly, taking her hand gently, “A pleasure Mrs Holland. And so our patient, Jennifer,” he held out his hand, I smiled and slipped my hand into his, he shook it gently and smiled a kind smile at me, “please take a seat for a moment,” he gestured to the couch and we sat as directed. Actually I perched a bit as I was a little wired (I wonder why).

“It’s a pleasure to meet with you today, even if it is a Sunday.” He added with a smile.
“It’s really just a quick chat to make sure you’re all familiar with the procedure and the likely outcomes. I would also like to examine the site of the operation so I can make some plans for the surgery.” He added quietly.

I could see he was watching me out of the corner of his eye for reaction and levels of anxiety. I continued to smile, and looked him in the eye when he looked at me. He had kind eyes with crinkles at the corner, I’ll bet he had a couple of children himself and loved them dearly. His smile was warm and comforting — I felt safe.

He continued to chat in his very correct English to inform us of the expected duration of the operation and the timing of things over the next few days. Who would be assisting and all of that stuff that really has no bearing on the patient but is good for those around to know. All the patient has to do is get better.

“So now we come to the examination. I think it would be better if mum and dad waited outside, if that is ok with you?” He looked at mum and dad expectantly, they got up and headed towards the door. Dad’s hand rested briefly on my shoulder and gave me a squeeze — I smiled up at him, he looked paler than I felt. I touched his hand as he let go- just to say it was alright. He smiled back.

“If you would like to remove the clothing from your lower half Jenny, that would be fine. Then pop up onto the bed.” He pointed to the stainless steel bench with the 2 inch mattress on it. It was covered in a paper sheet which crinkled as I sat on it. — oddly it didn’t move when I swung my legs up, having complied with his request to remove my clothing.

I felt a little uncomfortable as my dignity level was reduced. It was unavoidable. This guy was going to take me apart in the morning and rebuild me, I couldn’t be nervous now, could I? Actually yes I could and was, but it didn’t matter. Whatever this guy asked me to do, I would do it.

He washed his hands then put on some latex gloves — “Now I’m going to press on your tummy — tell me if there’s any discomfort.” He smiled at me.
I nodded slightly to show I understood.

He progressed slowly down to the groin — pressing and prodding gently — it actually felt quite soothing.
“Now if you could part your legs a little, that’s ok fine.” He felt around the scrotum and inspected the dangly bit to see if there was enough usable skin I suppose.
Then he asked me to turn on my side away from him.
“I promise to be gentle,” he said, “but I need to inspect you internally so I’m going to insert my finger into your rectum, it may be uncomfortable. Try to relax and think of something nice.” I saw him squirt some gel onto his finger.

“A few of my favourite things?” I asked trying to be chipper but feeling very tense.
He chuckled, “Very appropriate. Relax now, try to push back a little”

I winced as his finger slipped past my sphincter, He prodded around inside and I felt him hit my prostate gland. He withdrew his finger and peeled off the glove and threw it straight into the pedal bin — he offered me a box of tissues, “If you’d like to tidy yourself up and get dressed, I’ll make some notes.” He tried to be gentle and caring and I felt less embarrassed than I expected.

He popped his head round the door and called mum and dad back in.

“Right. I’ve examined our young lady here, and she’s in excellent condition and I have no concerns about the operation going ahead tomorrow.” He looked at mum and dad as they let out a breath that they probably didn’t know they were holding.

I’d like to see her in the morning at 7 am. She must eat nothing after 4pm and I would like her to use the purgative treatment before she goes to bed. About an hour before if that is OK? I recommend she arrives at the clinic by 6.45.
Please could you ensure that the operation site is clear of hair when Jenny arrives in the morning? Please do not use any deodorants or sprays. Just good old soap and water. Ok?”

Then he looked at me, “I think you are going to be very happy with the result, there will be no reason anyone will ever think that you were not born female.” He rose from the desk to usher us back into the waiting room.
“Just come to the front desk when you arrive tomorrow, see you then.” He waved us out and we headed back to the hotel for lunch.