David buries his wife after she loses her fight against cancer. He is nearly 50, and their children are now grown up, so he breaks the news that he is going to undertake that which he wanted to do for as long as he could remember — a sex change. He had struggled with his transsexuality all his life, but his love for his wife and respect for her meant he just played the hand that he had been dealt, up to now, that is.

Meanwhile, in the USA, grizzled Police Chief John Collingwood comes to near breaking point. Stressed from his job, his grief over his dead wife, and the despair of near alcoholism, he embarks on a trip to the UK with his brother to seek out his family tree.

Two very different people find a very different future, they also find each other...

but will it work?

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Tanya has a new website where she will display her latest works first and then to BigCloset TopShelf a few weeks later is here at Tanya Allan's Tales .
Tanya's Book Shop where she is selling her works in book form is at http://tanyaallan.authorshaunt.com/shop.php . Please Visit!

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The Legal Stuff: A Girl Can But Dream  © 2006,2009,2010 Tanya Allan
 
This work is the property of the author, and the author retains full copyright, in relation to printed material, whether on paper or electronically. Any adaptation of the whole or part of the material for broadcast by radio, TV, or for stage plays or film, is the right of the author unless negotiated through legal contract. Permission is granted for it to be copied and read by individuals, and for no other purpose. Any commercial use by anyone other than the author is strictly prohibited, and may only be posted to free sites with the express permission of the author.
 
This work is fictitious, and any similarities to any persons, alive or dead, are purely coincidental. Mention is made of persons in public life only for the purposes of realism, and for that reason alone. Certain licence is taken in respect of medical procedures, terms and conditions, and the author does not claim to be the fount of all knowledge.
 
The author accepts the right of the individual to hold his/her (or whatever) own political, religious and social views, and there is no intention to deliberately offend anyone. If you wish to take offence, that is your problem.
 
This is only a story, and it contains adult material, which includes sex and intimate descriptive details pertaining to genitalia. If this is likely to offend, then don’t read it.
 
Please enjoy.
Tanya
 
 

 
 
 
Chapter 1
 
 
David
 
It was April 2001, so I had spent nearly thirty years getting to the top of my profession. I was used to dealing with any, and all, personnel problems, whether they be disputes with the union, or with staff who were incompetent, burdened with a chemical dependency, or simply lazy. I had faced tricky, challenging and even some nasty situations and I had relished the experience. Our commercial catering business had flourished and grown. We even bought out our main competitors, twice!

After catering college, I had begun my career as an assistant chef in a top London restaurant, graduating, over time, to the top position. Then I had started my own catering business with my wife as a partner. She looked after the office side of the business, while I concentrated on the food. We specialised in providing commercial catering, whereby our teams would take the contracts inside firms and use their facilities. I rented a unit on an industrial estate in Amersham, which was close to our home, and kitted it out with the latest equipment. There I had the resources to manage the bulk cooking to an exceptional standard. I had the facilities of a top restaurant, without the burden of the restaurant part.

We also undertook large outside catering jobs, such as weddings and similar functions. It was hard, but we both worked very hard, and it paid off.

Yet, what I had to do today was the most difficult thing I had ever contemplated, more difficult, even, than sitting through my wife’s funeral, which had been hard enough.

I stared at my reflection in the hall mirror. I thought that I looked tired and drawn. I was reasonable under the circumstances, as I was forty-seven next year, so that alone was a hard truth to accept. I looked at the man who looked back at me, full head of fair hair, slightly greying at the sides, cut short because I was lazy in the mornings.

I was only 5’ 7”, but slim and fit. I had recently had my annual check-up, and the doctor had given me a clean bill of health. I played squash twice a week and Golf on Saturdays, or rather I used to, as my long-term opponent was no longer able to play. I liked to think I looked okay, but Delia always claimed I was very handsome. She had been biased. She had been only 5’ 2”, but she always told me she was glad that I hadn’t been taller, as she wouldn’t have liked having to stretch so far to kiss me.

I smiled at some memories, but then the tears came to my eyes. This was so damn painful.

The funeral had gone well, if that is the right expression. I had watched my wife of twenty-five years slide into the crematorium in a box.

Well?

No, it had been absolutely horrendous!

Inside I was numb, and now, as the numbness crept away, my life was taking on a bleak and barren outlook. Full of memories and with each one a sense of emptiness and loss. That loss had yet to sink in properly, as I had to keep reminding myself that she was never coming back.

I would never again be able to tell her how my day went, or listen to what she had been doing, not ever again. I felt a pang of guilt as I recalled the times I hadn’t listened, because what had been on my own mind was so much more important or interesting.

I would gladly listen to her just once more.

But it wasn’t to be.

We had been relatively young when we married, having started our social lives independently at about sixteen, so by our early twenties we were both ready for marriage. We had been best friends first, then lovers, and finally man and wife. Yet the first two aspects of our relationship never left us, so I like to think our marriage had been a very good one. She even learned to play golf with me so we could be together in our leisure time.

We loved each other and we were happy to grow old together. However, fate decreed that it was not to be. It started with a lump in her breast. Then, six months later, she was dead. The cancer had spread so fast that the various treatments hardly touched it. Those treatments were almost as harsh as the disease they were trying to kill.

We had three fine children, two boys and a girl, all now in their twenties. They gathered in the drawing room, as I had told them that I had something important to tell them, which would affect all our lives.

I swallowed, as my mouth was dry. I watched as my hand shook - I was terrified. Still, I had to get this over with and must face the consequences.

I went into the room, to find the children were already there. Sarah was sitting on the piano stool, tinkling on the keys. She had always been a good pianist, so I intended that she should have the grand piano. Delia had played, but I didn’t, and had no desire to learn.

She was a tall girl and, at twenty-four, was expecting her first child. Another hurt, as Delia would have loved to have been there for her. People said that Sarah looked very like me, as she was about my height with my general colouring and features. She had my fair hair and that skin that tanned so easily. She was pretty girl, having married a man she had met at Bristol University. She worked for a multinational corporation as an interpreter and translator, as she was fluent in both French and German. Charles, her husband, was an architect, and they lived not far away from us at Gerrards Cross. Charles wasn’t present, at my request.

Us?

Another hurt, as I sincerely believed that I was destined never to be part of an ‘us’ again!

Stephen was lounging on the sofa, in a way he had always done since a young boy. He was twenty-three and a Lieutenant in the Royal Marines. A few inches taller than me, he was much stockier and a tough looking young man. Broader and heavily muscled, he was a confident and powerful man, whose lively smile and charm was the first thing one saw. His face was a very masculine version of Delia’s, so I could see her in him every time I looked at him.

That hurt too.

Jonathon stood by the window, he was the youngest at twenty-one and was still at Oxford University. He was also taller than his siblings, somehow managing to reach six foot. He had Delia’s darker hair and pale complexion, but otherwise he was very much himself. Not really resembling either of his parents. They were all super kids and I loved them dearly, so that was why this was so terribly hard for me.

“Ah, Dad. What’s this all about? Jon said you were ever so serious,” Stephen asked.

I held up my hand.

“It is. Just bear with me. I have to say this my way, and it’s very hard, so please don’t interrupt,” I said. I walked over and looked at Delia’s picture on the wall above the fireplace.

I turned and faced them, I already had a tear in my eye, but I knew that I just had to do this.

“Your mother, bless her, told me that I must, and so I must. It is so hard, and I don’t really know where to start, but just please listen. What I will tell you will shock, hurt and upset you. I know this, but believe me, I have to do it now, rather than leave it until later. I owe it to you to be completely honest and up-front.

“I have to go back to when I was little. I stress my story is true, but not a very honourable one. I was about seven or eight when I first realised that I wanted to be a little girl, and not a boy. But, like you, I came from a loving, but very traditional family, so I knew that there was nothing that I could do about it.

“I grew up, throwing myself into everything I did, to compensate, perhaps. I was good at games and reasonably bright, so I did well at school. The feelings stayed and got stronger as I grew through puberty into a man. Not a day went by without me earnestly wanting to be a girl. Every night I prayed to wake up a girl, and each morning I cried when it hadn’t happened. It was a constant strand of unhappiness that blighted an otherwise very happy existence. I thought of ending it several times, but could never inflict that hurt on those who loved me.

“I compensated by becoming a perfectionist who worked really hard. I went to catering college and qualified top in my year. I worked my way up to head chef at a top London hotel. I was, to all outward eyes a normal adolescent and teenager. I had several girlfriends, losing my virginity at sixteen to an eighteen-year old French girl whilst on holiday. I adored girls, for every day I wanted to be one more and more.

“I met your mother, and the tale of how we met is known to all of you. We became friends, as we were both seeing someone else at the time. Our friendship grew, so when the other relationships ended, we sort of melded into a deep relationship with each other. We married and then you lot happened.

“Whilst we were just moving into from the ‘friends’ to the ‘lovers’ stage, we both got very pissed one night. I shared with her the secret I shared with no one else until this moment. I knew I had to tell her before we became seriously involved, as I didn’t want to have this secret between us. I almost expected ridicule, but she was sympathetic and so understanding. She knew that there was no way I could put my parents through the terrible stigma of my undergoing a sex change.

“You must remember this was 1974, so although we may have been going through a cultural revolution, traditional values still hung close around the bulk of society. We both agreed that I should just get on and live my life as best as I could with what I had. You see, I was not gay or a transvestite, as I didn’t want to have sex with men, neither did I want to dress in women’s clothes. I just felt that I was a woman trapped in a male body. And I still do today.”

Sarah tried to interrupt, but I held up my hand.

“Sarah, please dear. Let me finish. This is hard enough,” I said. She nodded, looking slightly upset.

“We married and I worked hard to provide the stable and loving home for you all to grow up and develop, so praise be, you’ve all managed to reach this stage without getting arrested. Then along came the cancer. We thought we could beat it, but we couldn’t. Six weeks before she died, your mother asked me what I would do when she had gone. Note, she said when, not if, but when. She knew that there was no hope.

“We wept together, and I was about as depressed as I could get. She had given me a full, happy and contented life for over twenty-five years. I loved her deeply and completely. Now I was going to be alone, while my feelings were as strong as ever. She told me that I must do what I felt I needed to do for the first time in my life. She said that I had bent to conform all my life and that wasn’t fair. I tried to explain that I had no desire to change anything as long as she was with me, but she smiled and told me that she was not going to be able to help me any more.”

I had to stop, as the tears were pouring down my face now, so all my children cried with me.

I blew my nose and continued.

“She made me promise that if I still had the feelings, I should make my life complete. She wanted to write to all of you, to explain. I told her that I would tell you, as I am now doing. She said that that would be too hard, but I told her that it was the only way I could face you. You see, I need you to understand what I am going through, and earnestly want you to be there for me. Despite this, she has written to each of you, so I have her letters to you here. I will give them to you in a minute.

“It’s been four months since she died, so I saw the consultant last week. I am starting the lengthy process to become a woman on Monday. I have sold my business and I will sell the house. I can’t live here alone, not without your mother, as there are just too many memories. I have a superb pension and enough investments so I will have no financial worries. Your mother and I put together a trust before she died. There is a sizable sum invested, so each of you will receive your share when you reach twenty-five. So Sarah, you have only a few months to wait.” I paused, watching their faces, as the enormity of what their father had said slowly sank in.

“So, here are your letters. I am so sorry that I have to shock and upset you like this, but there it is. I am going to follow a dream that I’ve had since I was very little, regardless of where it might lead.

“I am going outside now. I will be by your mother’s favourite tree in the garden. You can read her letters and talk about what I have said. If you no longer want to have anything to do with me, I will understand. I will be devastated, but I promise that I will understand. I would rather go through this with your support, but I am prepared to go it alone.

“I have no desire to embarrass you, so I fully intend to do this as discreetly as possible.” I finished and put the letters on the table. I then left them alone.

I walked across the lawn and sat on a small bench under a large horse chestnut tree. The view from here over the Chiltern Hills was lovely, so I could just see the old windmill at Coleshill.

“Well Delia, my darling, I told them. You said it would be hard, you weren’t wrong. Oh, why did you have to die?” I cried and wept openly, but a great burden seemed to have fallen from my shoulders.

I had no idea of the time, or of how long I sat there, quietly crying. I had been building up for this moment all my life, I realised. Finally, I had actually decided to come out of the closet!

I never heard Sarah approach, but I became aware of her when she wrapped her arms around me. We cried together for a while. There was no need to say anything, and then we were joined by the boys. Their unconditional love in the face of such a thing broke me completely and I started to sob uncontrollably.

It was Stephen who made us stop. The pragmatic Marine, who had both feet firmly planted on the ground.

“Dad, if you become a bloody woman, what on earth will we call you?” he asked, and the tears changed to laughter, I did not deserve such children.

And so, with my children as support, I started on my long journey to turn a dream into a reality.
 
 
The journey was a hard one and not for the faint hearted. I started on a regime of medication, female hormones and testosterone blockers, which caused strange things to happen to both my physical body and my emotional state. I started to grow out my hair, shopping from catalogues and on the Internet for most of my needs. When I did venture forth to any centres of humanity, I always went in jeans and old baggy sweaters.

The last thing I wanted was to look like a man dressed as a woman. So I tended to stay as male as possible, at least until my physical shape made it too difficult. Only then, would I start on my Real Life Test, and live in the form I always knew I should have been,

A few months down the line, I sold the house and moved over a hundred miles away, to a smaller house in Dorset, not far from the picturesque village of Corfe, in a village called Church Knowle. No one knew me here, so I started using the name Deborah Cartwright, instead of David Cartwright. My full name had been David John Adam Cartwright. I planned to use Deborah Jane, from now on. The kids had decided they couldn’t call me ‘Dad’, or ‘Mum’, so they settled on ‘Dee’, which is the name that Delia used to call me.

I informed my bank and my solicitor, enclosing a letter from my specialist, stipulating the course upon which I was embarked, and the potential outcome. A couple of weeks later, my first chequebook in the name Ms. Deborah J. Cartwright arrived, with credit and cheque cards too! It was quite exciting.

I received no visitors, spending a lot of my time lounging about in old jeans and tee shirts, painting the wonderful countryside. I had always loved painting, so now I planned to do it as much as I could. I found that all the friends we had as a couple were friends because of Julia, and not really for me. I discovered that I had been a solitary, single minded and rather boring man. It was a miracle that Delia loved me as much as she had.

So most people stayed away, relieved, most likely, that they didn’t have to face a grieving husband, for whom they had no words that would really help. I gave no one my new address and enjoyed my solitude for the most part. I started writing a journal and then I began a romantic novel, with the heroine based on Julia.
 
 
I started getting sensitive in the breast area and my body hair grew less fiercely. Fatty deposits shifted, my hips became wider and my waist narrower. I kept on a strict healthy diet and took lots of toning and aerobic exercise. It took many months, but Sarah was over one day, looking larger than life. She was now only a month away from giving birth.

“My God Dee! You can’t wear men’s stuff anymore, not with your figure,” she said.

I honestly hadn’t noticed, but as she only saw me once or twice a month, the differences were more pronounced.

“A lady in a shop called me ‘missus’ the other day,” I said, making her laugh.

“We are going to have to do something about you. It is time for you to break with David for good,” she said.

That weekend, we threw out all my old clothes and formally drank the health of Deborah, welcoming her into my life. Sarah helped me buy some clothes from a catalogue, as I did not feel confident enough to go shopping!

I had to convince the doctors that I could live as a woman, before they would even think about slicing me up and making the change complete. I had a long course of laser treatment and electrolysis, which finally, yet painfully, removed the need to shave, so I actually began to feel good about into whom I was turning. Until this moment, I hated the rather androgynous lump that I felt I was.

I persuaded the nice Mr Collins, the cosmetic surgeon, to do a little initial work for me. I had breast implants inserted, to give me a 38C bust, and he shaved away some of my nose, jaw line, Adam’s apple and made my lips fuller. While he was at it, he did some work around my eyes, removing my bags and some wrinkles. However, after the bruising went down and the stitches removed, I began to feel more confident in myself.

I looked into a mirror and a strange woman looked back at me. It was not my face, but the longer I looked, I began to see that it was still me, but much, much more feminine. I thought I looked about fifteen years younger. Sarah and Jon were amazed, and were so effusive in their positive comments, that I no longer felt that I looked like a man - almost.

“Shit Dee! You look just like Sarah’s older sister,” Jon had said.

The doctor told me that with continued female hormones, the breasts would still grow slightly, so, if necessary, the implants could be removed or reduced.
 
 
Sarah came to stay with me as Charles was in Europe on business. I swear she looked so huge that she would burst at any moment. She spent a long time helping me with make up, clothes and other things that I had not even thought about. She taught me about posture, how to approach people, the handshake and the use of feminine hand gestures. The daughter became the mother, and I was so grateful for her involvement. I just had no idea how tricky it all was. I found a wonderful role model in Delia. Every time I wondered how to approach something, I thought about she would have done it, and tried to emulate her. I realised how much I had watched her over the years, and how many of her mannerisms and attitudes seemed to be stored away in my brain.

Sarah was wonderful. She was so encouraging, so when I was hypercritical or despondent, she would just let me know what I really looked like and would build up my sagging self-esteem.

“Dee, now you have had the implants and the facial surgery, you look a hundred percent female. No one will ever guess, so just relax, you look really elegant.”
 
 
We went out for lunch together just after the marks of my minor surgery had disappeared. I was wearing a summer dress, tights and quite low-heeled shoes. My hair was quite long, which she managed to coax into something reasonably feminine. She had helped me do my make up, but I still felt very awkward.

I was convinced that everyone was staring at me and knew what I was underneath, but Sarah just laughed at me.

“Don’t be paranoid, Dee. No one is laughing and you look lovely,” she told me.

I smiled, but was still very nervous.

After lunch, she dragged me into the hairdressers.

“Hi, can you do something for my Mum, she has no idea of a decent hairdo, so can you get rid of the grey and give her some nice shape and highlights,” she said.

I could have killed her, but she just laughed and left me alone. I was terrified, but the girls seemed to have no clue, and were simply charming. I actually relaxed and enjoyed the experience. When they had finished, I was absolutely delighted. They had really done a superb job, as I almost didn’t recognise myself. My mother, had she been alive, would have walked straight by me in the street.

Sarah arrived and gave me a hug.

“I didn’t think it was possible when you started, but you actually look very feminine and attractive already. You’ll have all the men after you,” she said.

I blushed, but felt very pleased. It suddenly dawned on me that men may find me attractive, so I examined my attitude towards men and women. As a male, I had been reluctant heterosexual, in that I admired women too much to consider men as a viable alternative. Also, the social and personal prejudices prevented me exploring any same sex relationships. However, now I looked at men in a completely different way. I used to see them as competition, but now I appraised them as something quite different, but I was unsure exactly what. I certainly no longer saw women as potential sexual partners, so was quite pleased.

Then Sarah took me to have my ears pierced. I was mortified, but it was quick and did not really hurt. I even came away with a small set of ear studs. We spent some time shopping for clothes and I actually bought some.
 
 
I still had my male genitalia, somewhat reduced and virtually useless due to the huge amounts of female hormones I had taken over the preceding months. The hormones made me moody and emotional. Some days I just stayed in bed, such was my feeling of fatigue, other days I just wept, for no good reason. The doctor prescribed mild tranquillisers to keep me more level, which I tried to avoid taking, unless things got too bad.

I did not really have any sex drive to speak of. I started fantasising about having a relationship, but on an emotional level rather than a sexual one. I rarely fantasised of making love to men. However, as time went on, my fantasies became more adventurous. Sex had never been really important to me, as the gender identity problem was always upper-most in my mind. I actually may have considered having anal intercourse for the first time in my life, had I had a partner. I was perhaps fortunate in not having a partner, so I waited for my SRS. (Sexual reassignment Surgery).

The voice was the trickiest, but with coaching from Sarah, I was able to alter pitch and tone, managing to sound quite husky and sexy. Fortunately, I had never had a very deep voice, so I was given a boost when attended voice therapy at the local clinic. There, I met some other transsexuals undergoing the same procedure as I. When I attended, I was early, so was the first to arrive. I sat in one of the eight vacant seats that were put in a circle. I was dressed in a grey skirt and navy top. It was June, so because it was warm, the top was low-cut, showing my natural cleavage and had straps rather than sleeves. I had ventured onto higher heels and was made up conservatively.

“The trick,” Sarah told me, “is to put just enough on. You don’t want to look like a tart or a transvestite.” She had been wonderful, and as I no longer had any six o’clock shadow to cover, I used my make up wisely and, I think, effectively.

The door opened and two women came in. I saw immediately that they were also in transition, but perhaps not so far advanced as I was. One was about 5’10” and still had a problem with facial hair. The large jaw and nose accentuated her masculinity, and she was very broad. She had on very thick make up, which I thought was rather garish. She was dressed in a floral dress and rather silly sling backs. She looked very like a man dressed as a woman.

The other was smaller, but still looked very masculine, particularly as she was wearing jeans and a baggy sweater. She was so obviously wearing an inappropriately long blonde wig, designed for someone slimmer and younger. I felt embarrassed for her.

I smiled at them and the taller one said, “Sorry we’re late, the bus was behind schedule.” She had a very deep voice, which as she tried in vain to sound feminine, sounded faintly silly and rather camp.

“I don’t think you’re late,” I said. “No one else is here yet. My name is Deborah, but most people call me Dee.”

“I’m Charleen,” the tall one said.

“And I’m Stephanie,” the other said, as I shook both their hands. Charleen was wearing several bangles on her wrists, so they jangled garishly as we shook hands.

“Is this your first time to therapy?” I asked, to which they both nodded. I realised that they were even more self-conscious and embarrassed than I.

We sat in silence for a minute, then Stephanie said, “Do you get many to these groups?”

It dawned on me that they thought I was the voice coach, so I smiled.

“I’m not the coach. I’m here for coaching too,” I said, realising for the first time that my voice was already better than theirs.

“Gosh, really? I thought you were the coach,” said Stephanie.

“How many sessions have you attended?” Charleen asked.

“This is my first,” I said, to which both expressed surprise.

At that moment, a rather plump, but obviously genetic female came bustling in, carrying a clipboard. She was followed by three more women, all in transition, and I felt that they were all very obviously transsexuals.

The session was actually quite valuable, as Carol, the coach was able to give me certain pointers and helpful suggestions. After the session Carol took me aside.

“Dee, I am so pleased you came, but really there is no need for you to return. You are actually already speaking very nicely, so you should have no problems whatsoever. If only the others were as advanced as you, my job would be so much easier. I have to confess, I at first thought that you were the female partner of one of the members of the group. When we went round and introduced ourselves, I was amazed when you said you were in transition,” she said. This one statement gave me the biggest boost of the whole procedure. I grinned all the way home.
 
 
I applied for a new drivers licence with a photograph, writing a letter to the DVLA, with my doctor’s letter confirming my situation. As I had to send in a photograph, I was grateful to have visited the hairdressers.

The local community slowly grew to know me as Deborah, even ‘Dee’ to some, and I found myself invited to various women’s homes for coffee and tea. I kept these to a minimum, but I detected no suspicions over my true nature. Having Sarah around seemed to legitimise my role of her mother, as Sarah would often call me ‘Mummy’ in front of people. We were so alike that it was often remarked upon, so verbal statements were usually unnecessary.

When she gave birth to a daughter, I was there as a doting grand parent. I took the job of grandmother seriously, and the first time I held little Amy, my breasts ached. Charles, her husband was actually very understanding and, thankfully, he accepted me completely. He had to attend a convention in Brussels so I was only too happy to stay with Sarah to help her.

Sarah breastfed little Amy, and one night I heard the baby crying, so I got up, knowing that Sarah was very tired. I just wanted to know what it felt like, so I allowed the little girl to suckle on my breasts. It was a wonderful sensation, I had a tingly feeling all over and I felt so content. Poor little Amy was not getting anything, so I took her into Sarah’s room, to allow her access to the real thing, but over the next few weeks I would often repeat the experience and it felt so good. In fact, my own breasts did become fuller and the nipples grew considerably. I swear, one day, there was a trace of milk on each nipple.
 
 
Then, over a year after the whole process started, the moment I had been waiting for arrived. I went into the clinic near Brighton, and came out a few days later, missing those small pieces of flesh that had given me so much despair for so long.

The surgeon told me that he was delighted with the operation and, when I returned two weeks later for a check-up, he seemed thrilled that everything was looking as good as it could be. He told me that only the absence of the cervix would point to my original gender, but to all intents and purposes, I looked as female as if I had been born that way.

He had utilised the skin from the penis and scrotum and created a vagina and labia and by using a small section of the head of the penis, he constructed a clitoris. Part of the vaginal canal had sections of colon attached, so there was a risk of scar tissue at the join. Should this occur, then a second operation would be required before sexual intercourse was possible.

It was an exact working replica of female genitalia and looked absolutely perfect. He told me that it was perfectly feasible to achieve orgasm once the nerve endings had repaired themselves, and even to generate a degree of lubrication moisture, but not as much as a naturally born female. For several weeks after the operation I had to exercise my vaginal channel with a progressive series of dilators. The largest of which terrified me. If I ever found a man with equipment that big, I would call the Guinness Book of Records!

However, I persevered and the surgeon announced that everything was looking very clean and he was very pleased with the results. I was fortunate not to develop the scar tissue and so he told me that sex was now possible, but I should wait for at least twelve weeks after the operation. As I was nearly fifty, I did not have the advantages of youth. I did, however, have a small stature, slight figure and a healthy bank balance. All of these were a distinct advantage, but the most prized commodity was having the love and support of my children, without them I should have never made it.

Having paid him the large cheque, and believe me, the sum was considerable, I returned to stay with Sarah. I had a long, warm bath, and never tired of gazing at my new equipment. For the first time in my life I felt that I was the real me. I felt complete and very content. The fact that my family were still alongside made it so wonderful, and I was so happy. Perversely, my only regret was that Delia wasn’t here to share the moment.

Sarah came into the bathroom and looked me lying full stretch in the bath. She looked at my figure, and she was amazed at the skill of the surgeon.

“My God, Dee! It really does look just like the real thing. It’s fantastic! You look so good. You have a lovely figure. So if pressed, I’d say you were in your late thirties or early forties at the oldest. I can’t believe how much younger you look,” she said.

I almost wept with pleasure. I got out and she handed me a large towel. She asked if she could have a closer look. I agreed, so she gently examined the new part of me. She kept shaking her head and muttering.

“I suppose when your pubic hair grows back fully and the scars heal, there will be absolutely no way anyone could tell you haven’t always been female,” she said.

“So the surgeon tells me,” I said.

“Well I have to confess, I never in a million years believed that the end result would be as brilliant as this. You look like a woman and you act as if you have always been a woman. I am so proud of you,” she said, hugging me. We cried together for a while, out of sheer relief and contentment on my part.
 
 
The next day, which was a Saturday, Sarah left Amy with Charles, and the two of us went into London for a spot of shopping. I bought so many clothes, shoes and cosmetics that I realised just how expensive it was going to be as a woman. We went to a lingerie shop, and although I was a size twelve, due to my broad shoulders, my figure was such that I could wear some of the most wonderful and sexy lingerie. I spoilt myself, and Sarah too. She was still struggling to get her pre-pregnancy figure back, so it was terrific therapy for both of us.

We stopped off for lunch at a nice little wine bar, where two thirty-something year old men wearing suits started to chat us up. Sarah and I were sitting at a small table for four and the place was packed. These two men came over and asked if they could join us, as there were no other tables free. There was no reason to say no, so then they started talking to us, after we moved the several hundred-weight of carrier bags.

“I see you ladies have been assisting the flagging economy by redistributing some cash,” said one, who said he was called Richard.

“My daughter has recently had a baby, so this is more retail therapy rather than any act of charity for the chancellor,” I replied.

“Your daughter? I thought you were sisters,” the other man, James, said.

Sarah rolled her eyes and I smiled, genuinely pleased, but aware of the obvious flattery.

“That is a very old line,” I said.

“No, seriously, you don’t look old enough to be her mother, does she Rich?” James said.

“Absolutely not,” Richard said, with a grin. “The family resemblance is obvious, but you don’t look older than thirty five.”

“Now you have ruined it. Had you said forty, I might just have believed you,” I said, still smiling in spite of myself.

The waiter arrived with our food, and the men ordered theirs.

They were charming company, and I must admit to hogging the conversation. Eventually we paid and left, but the men were complimentary and charming to the end.

As we walked down the road, Sarah shook her head and laughed.

“Dee, no one needs to teach you how to be a woman, you’re a terrible flirt,” she said.

“No, I’m not, I just responded to their conversation,” I said, somewhat defensively.

“Dee, you’re such a flirt, you’re going to have no problems being a woman. In fact you could probably teach me a few things!”

“Well, I really enjoyed it. They were charming and I actually felt like an attractive woman for the first time.”

“Dee, I have news for you. You are a very attractive woman. I think we’re going to have to keep the men off with big sticks,” she said, laughing. We returned to her home by train. Charles was pleased to see us, as Amy had been grizzly for most of the day.

The next week Stephen returned from wherever he had been, and Jon returned from his girlfriend’s parents’ villa in Spain. The house in Gerrards Cross was full and very lively. I took them all out to dinner to Loch Fyne, a superb fish restaurant in Beaconsfield. We had a very nice meal, and I got a little sloshed on champagne. I openly wept when Stephen stood and proposed a toast to me, ‘his new mother’, and the others joined him in the toast.

The next day, I realised that I had rather overstayed my welcome with Charles, so I bade my daughter and Amy a fond farewell, and returned to my home in Dorset. Stephen and Jon decided to follow me down, to spend some of the month of August 2002 with me. I had healed up perfectly now, and it was almost as if I had always been female. I had no pictures or photographs of myself as a male in my house. The only picture I had from the old days was the portrait of Delia, which once again hung above the fireplace.

September came, Stephen returned to his unit, while Jon went back to his flat in Oxford and his girlfriend Sophie. I was alone again, but this time, I didn’t have to hide myself away. I had missed the bulk of the summer visitors to the area, but was around for some of the festivals that happened in the later season. Some of my new friends encouraged me to start attending church regularly, so I increasingly found myself in a growing social circle.

I even took up riding again. I made a friend called Elizabeth who had some horses. She had been widowed quite recently, so she wanted company when she went riding. I had ridden a good deal when younger, so it was super to start again. We got on very well, as neither of us wanted to be desperately social, but were happy in each other’s company, chatting about trivia for the most part. She assumed that when I told her that ‘my other half’ had died of cancer, I was referring to my husband. I thought it wise to allow her that assumption, as it was far less complicated that way.

There were a few widows and divorcees of my general age or older, but I tended to keep myself a little apart and, without being rude, actually felt happier by myself. I was in regular contact with my accountant, and he informed me that my investments were solid and doing very well. It was bringing me a regular income of around  £3,000 a month, as well as gaining and adding to the capital. My pension fund was behaving itself, and should kick in when I was fifty-five.

I sold the BMW saloon that I had had for the last three years, and bought a silver Mercedes sports convertible. I thought that as all the Mercedes sports I had seen were driven by blonde women over 45, so I may as well join the club.

I filled my days gardening, riding, painting some of the lovely countryside and writing my novels. I was blissfully happy, despite being alone. I still missed Delia dreadfully, but in a funny sort of way, I felt that she had become part of me, and I her. Loneliness is different to being alone. There were times when I was so pleased that I was alone, but others when I felt lonely, even when I was with other people. Our society tends to promote a ‘couple culture’, so if one is no longer part of that culture, through death or divorce, it is very hard to feel one actually belongs.
 
 
Then, one warm September day, my life changed completely when a strange American voice disturbed my concentration, as I was working on my novel on my laptop in the garden.

“Excuse me, Ma’am. I’m sorry to intrude, but I wonder if you could help us?”
 
 
Chapter 2
 
 
John
 
The Duty Sergeant knocked on my door.

“Come in, Pete,” I said.

“Chief, we got a 2/11 down on Main, at Wendy’s.”

“Who?

“Richards and Wiley. Don’t know who is down,” he said.

A 2/11 was an officer down, so it was the call all cops least liked to hear.

“How many we got responding?” I asked, as I pulled on my body armour and grabbed a shotgun out of the rack.

“We only got the three units out, and then there’s the two of us,” he said, as we went out into the hot August Arizona sun.

“Call the State Police,” I said.

“Already have, they’re sending who they can, and the Sheriff’s Department is sending two units. Sam has notified the FBI as well.” He slid behind the wheel of the Police liveried Cherokee Jeep.

“Okay, let’s go,” I said, pumping a round into the chamber of the shotgun.

It was not that far, but the siren seemed to accentuate the anticipation.
 
 
We arrived at the corner of Decker and Main, where two police cars blocked the road. The officers were crouched behind the front and rear of their cars.

“Shit!” I said.

I got out and ran to the nearest officer. It was Steven Gunn, a good man. I looked down the street, and saw another of our cars parked with both doors open. There was a beaten up red Ford pickup in front of it, and someone was lying in the road between the vehicles.

I could not see anything else.

“Okay, what the fuck happened?” I asked Steve.

“Wiley and Richards were stopping the pickup, Chief, and there were two guys in it. No sooner had they stopped, when the passenger gets out and shoots out the windscreen of the cruiser. I think Wiley got hit, anyway he is still in the car. Richards took out the bad guy, but then the driver reverses into the cruiser, so Richards jumps out and is in the hardware store, he fires back and takes out the front tires of the pickup. The driver ran to Wendy’s Diner. He is holed up, but he has at least three hostages in there with him,” the patrolman said.

“Who are the hostages?”

“Miles and his wife, and I think Jean’s in there as well.”

“Any customers?”

“I don’t think so, Chief.”

“How bad is Wiley?” I asked.

“Don’t know, Chief, we can’t get close. Every time we try, the perp shoots at us.”

“Shit!” I said.

I looked at the problem for a moment. The cop could be bleeding to death, so he was my first priority.

“Sergeant. Get two vests onto the side of the jeep. We’ll pull alongside the cruiser and get Wiley out of there,” I shouted.

The vests were put onto the driver’s side and Pete got in behind the wheel. I jumped in and we went off down the street.

Pete pulled up next to the stricken officer in the car, so I jumped out. He was wounded, but still alive despite being in some pain and having lost a bit of blood. Someone fired shots at us from the diner, and I saw Richards peering over some cover.

“Stay there and keep your head down,” I shouted. He nodded, waving at me.

I dragged Wiley back to the jeep and pulled him into the back seat.

“Go!” I shouted, so Pete floored it and the Jeep took off with squealing tyres.

There was a paramedic unit round the corner, so we handed Wiley over to them. He’d been shot in the shoulder. He was bleeding a lot, but was not too bad.

“Do we know who the guy is?” I asked him.

“The guy who shot me is one of the Johnson boys, I didn’t see the driver,” Wiley said, as the paramedic cut off his shirt.

“Why the fuck weren’t you wearing armour?” I asked, knowing the answer.

“Too damn hot, chief, sorry.”

“You will be. Hell is a damn site hotter than here,” I growled. It was so unnecessary, they had the equipment, but they all believed it would never happen to them. Morons!

“Have we I.D.’d the body yet?” I asked Pete.

“Yes, it’s Hank Johnson.”

“Then that will be Luke in the diner. Shit, why did they do it?” I asked.

Pete shrugged.

“No doubt there’ll be some drugs or stolen property in the pickup, Chief,” he said.

“I guess you could be right.”

I walked out to the street with a loudhailer.

“Luke. This is Chief Collingwood. Your brother is lying in the road. I want to get a paramedic to him. What do you say?” I said.

“He’s dead, and you motherfuckers killed him. No one goes nowhere,” a voice shouted back.

“Chief, we are ringing the diner,” Pete told me.

“Pick up the phone, Luke, and we’ll talk,” I said.

Pete handed me the phone. I knew the diner, so I knew the phone was at the rear on the left. The toilets were on the right and the window opened up onto the parking lot.

Covering the mouthpiece, I told Pete to get two officers into the toilet.

“Luke, what are you doing?” I said into the phone.

“Fuck off, Chief. I ain’t goin’ back to jail,” Luke said, his voice sounded bad, he was on the edge. I knew he took drugs, so now he was real strung out. I guessed he’d missed his last fix.

“Okay, but first you gotta let the people go. The Feds will be here soon, and you know what happens to people who take hostages. They end up in body bags, boy,” I said, watching as two pairs of legs disappeared through the toilet window.

“I ain’t lettin’ anyone go. I’m safe while I have them,” Luke said.

“How do I know they aren’t already dead, boy?” I asked.

“They’re alive,” he said.

“Says you. I heard many shots. How do I know they’re fine and dandy?”

“I’ll show you,” he said.

“I tell you what, I’ll come on over. I won’t have a gun, so I can take a look. You let them go and you can have me then, instead. What do you say?” I said.

He thought for a moment.

“Okay.”

I took my .38 snub from my ankle holster and shoved it down by my balls. Then I walked into the street, so he could see me take my 9mm auto and put it on the hood of the nearest cruiser.

I walked slowly towards the diner, watching the many curtains twitching in neighbouring houses and buildings. The last thing I wanted was for the State police or the Feds to get here and take over. This was my town; I sorted out the problems here.

I stood just outside the door. The curtains had been pulled, so I could not see in. The door opened a bit and the proprietor, old Miles Silverman, was pushed into the gap.

“You okay, Miles?” I asked.

“Sure Chief,” the old man replied.

“Shut up! Throw your guns away, cop,” Luke said.

“I’ve left them on the car, see,” I said, showing him my two empty holsters.

“Get in here,” he said, waving a cheap pistol at me.

“You let them go and then I come in. That’s the way we work this,” I said, calmly.

Miles and his wife Helen left the diner, followed by Jean the waitress.

“That it?” I asked.

“That’s it,” Luke said, pointing the revolver at me. I saw that every chamber I could see had a round in it.

“Okay,” I said, walking into the diner.

He searched me and, just as I expected, he missed the .38. He was rough and tough, but didn’t have the stomach to put his hand near another man’s dick!
 
 
I sat on one of the benches, so he looked at me, with his back to the toilet doors.

“Okay Luke. What do you want to happen now?” I asked. The door opened very slowly. One of the officers slid on his belly towards the servery, the other one slid the other way, and was in a booth just out of sight.

“I just want outa here, man,” he said.

I nodded. “There is a problem with that.”

“What?”

“Well you see, your brother went and nearly killed a cop, and you are an accessory. So we can’t let you go,” I picked up a coffee cup and walked to the coffee jug.

“Where are you going?” he screamed.

“Getting’ a coffee, you want one?” I asked.

“No. Sit your ass back down,” he said, waving the gun about.

I had the jug in my right hand and the mug in the left.

I walked slowly towards him.

“Have a coffee, we could be here some time,” I said as I walked.

He frowned, trying to understand what I said.

I threw him a mug, saying, “Catch!”

He actually tried to, but then I threw the jug, covering him in hot coffee. I grabbed his gun hand, wrenching the pistol from his fingers. I think one broke as I took it off him. He screamed and lashed out, I punched him once and he went down. I’m six-six and two-forty pounds of muscle. I only had to punch him the once.

The other officers were at my side in seconds.

“Cuff him and book him, attempted murder of a police officer,” I said.

I turned and walked back out into the sunshine. Luke was dragged to a waiting cruiser. I smiled as a dark sedan pulled up and two suits got out. The Feds had arrived.

I walked over to Pete and he handed me my gun.

“Make sure you check out the pickup,” I said. He nodded and instructed Richards to search the perp’s vehicle.

One of the FBI agents came over.

“Chief Collingwood, I am Special Agent Adams. We were informed you had a hostage situation here,” he said.

“Mr Adams, you were informed correctly. However, I have dealt with the situation, and we have one man in custody and one perp dead. One officer is in hospital from the original incident and no civilians have been killed or wounded. So you can go back to your office. Thanks for coming,” I said and went over to the Jeep. Pete grinned and we took off.
 
 
As we got back to the office, the troops had gathered, so they grinned as I came in.

“If I have to tell anyone about not wearing their armour, then you can look for another job. Is that clear?” I snarled and went to my office. They all knew that this incident may have been avoided if body armour had been worn.

I poured myself a whisky. Pete came in and shut the door. I poured him one too.

“That was a bit tough on the guys, John,” he said.

“Goddamn it, Pete, when will they learn? The vests are there to prevent this from happening. If Wiley had been wearing his, he wouldn’t be in hospital now,” I said.

“Yeah, I know it and now they know it. But you should have waited for the Feds. You know what they say about hostage situations?” he said.

“I know. But this is my town, so I sort things out my way,” I snarled, filling up my glass again.

“How’s Wiley?” I asked, taking a swig.

“He’ll be okay, he needed a transfusion, but no serious damage,” he said.

“I’ll go by the hospital later. Has anyone told his wife?”

“Yeah, Sam called her.”

Samantha was the dispatcher and virtually ran the department.

Pete watched me down the second scotch.

“What?” I said.

“John, you can’t keep on like this,” he said quietly, as I sat in my chair. A biting remark was on the end of my tongue, but I curbed it in time.

“Yeah, I know Pete. I’m sorry, but the job is the only thing that keeps me going.”

“If you collapse with a breakdown, you ain’t doin’ anyone any favours,” he said.

“I know. But I don’t like going home right now.”

“It’s nearly a year, John. She’s been dead a year next month. You gotta move on.”

I looked at Pete. He and I had been in Phoenix PD together years ago. We had been Sergeants together, and then I made Lieutenant and went to Detectives’ Division. I went onwards and upwards, but Sally wanted us to move away from the city. Ten years ago, I applied for the post of Chief of Midhurst PD. Midhurst is a small farming town on the edge of the desert, with twenty-five uniform officers and six detectives.

We bought a small ranch for Sally’s horses and life was great. The kids grew up and we settled into the community real well. Then one of the sergeants retired, so I asked Pete to come out and join us. His wife, Ellen, was sceptical at first, but then came to love it. We would go on vacations together, just the four of us and the kids, until they got too big. It was like a big happy family, until Sally died of cancer.

I nursed her through all the treatments, watching as she shrivelled up and died. Part of me died with her, and if it hadn’t been for the job and our two girls, I think I would have seriously considered ending my own life. My sister, Pam, and my brother, Ed, were there for me. Ed kept trying to get me to play golf with him, and Pam kept trying to match me off with her divorced friends.

But, as everyone kept telling me, ‘Life goes on!’ That didn’t mean I had to like it.

“My brother wants us to go to England and check out the origins of our dad’s family. Our great grand dad was an English sailor who fell in love with a girl in Maine, and he jumped ship to stay with her. He came from someplace near Bournemouth, called Wareham. You think I should go with him?” I asked.

“You haven’t had a vacation since Sally died. Go for it.”

“Hmm, he also wants to visit an old air force buddy who married a girl in Wales, and he now owns a pub over there.”

“Hey, that’s what I call a good marriage,” Pete laughed. “So when is this all happening?”

“I don’t know; it is just an idea at the moment. I guess if I said yes, next month sometime,” I said.

“Sounds good to me. A change of scene is always a good thing.”

“Yeah, maybe,” I said, standing up. “Come on, let’s go check on Wiley.”
 
 
We found Wiley leaning up in bed, supported by pillows. His wound was dressed and he had IV drips into his arm. He looked pale and drawn.

“He’s lost a lot of blood. Don’t stay too long, Chief, he needs to rest,” the doctor said.

He left us and Wiley looked at me.

“Chief. I’m sorry, sir,” he said.

“So I should think,” I said and smiled, just to reduce his guilt.

“I reckon I’ve learned my lesson, sir,” he said.

“I guess you have, at that,” I said. “How do you feel?”

“Sore, sir, very sore.”

“Well, two inches lower and you’d be fucking dead, boy,” Pete said.

“I know that, Sarge. How’s Nathan?”

Nathan Richards was his partner.

“Nathan’s fine. He will be along soon, he is picking up Janine,” Pete told him. Janine was Wiley’s wife.

“Did the perp die, sir?”

“Yup. But his brother Luke is in the cells now,” I told him, and he nodded.
 
 
At that moment Nathan and Janine arrived, so we left them to it.

“Thanks for coming, Chief,” Wiley said, as we left.

Standing in the sun, I turned to Pete.

“Shit, Pete, this job don’t get no easier,” I said.

“That’s a fact.”

“I must be getting old, I don’t seem to get the same kick out of it all anymore,” I said.

“We both got 30 years in. But what the hell would we do?” Pete asked.

“Fancy a beer?”

“No, I’d better get back, Ellen has some family over,” he said, aware that even that innocent comment hurt me.

“That’s okay. Pete, I understand,” I said, so we returned to the station.
 
 
Alone again, I sat in my office, examining the whisky in my glass.

“I am seeing far too much of you, my friend,” I said, carefully pouring it back into the bottle. I stood up and looked out of my window at the scene that had remained virtually unchanged over the last few years. I suddenly felt a need to escape and to get away, just for a while. I picked up the phone and called my brother.

Ed worked for an Insurance company in Phoenix, and was doing real well. He was a couple of years younger than me, but was divorced. He still remained on good terms with his ex-wife, and spent a lot of time with his two kids. He had a girlfriend who was a doctor at one of the hospitals in the city, and he lived a high life.

He wanted to track down our family origins, so it was his idea to go to England and trace a lead he had on one of our great, great grand dads.

He answered.

“Hi Ed, it’s John.”

“Big Jay. How ya doin’?”

“Okay, I guess. We had a little excitement today. One of my officers was shot, so we had a small siege situation,” I told him.

“So I gathered, you’re on the news already,” he said.

I swore silently to myself. “Oh yeah. What are they saying?” I asked.

“Just that Chief Collingwood entered the stronghold. Then, single handed and unarmed, exchanged himself for the three hostages, and proceeded to disarm and restrain the armed man. Hell, Big Jay, when you gonna walk on water?” Ed asked.

“Next week, sometime,” I said.

He laughed, but with little humour. “Seriously bro, you still trying to get yourself killed, or what?”

“Or what, Ed, or what.”

“Why the call? Not that I don’t like hearing from you?”

“You know you mentioned this trip to England?”

“Yup, what about it?”

“I’ve been thinking about it. I guess I’d like to tag along. I need to get the hell out of here for a while,” I said.

“Great! When do you want to go?”

“As soon as possible,” I said.

“Okay, I’ll make the booking and call you. You mind going first class?”

“Not if you’re paying, remember I’m just a poor cop.”

He laughed and we hung up.
 
 
I drove back to the ranch and parked my jeep in the garage. Sally’s old MGB convertible was still where she had last parked it. I stood and looked at it. I could still see her sitting behind the wheel. I occasionally sat in it, as I could still smell her and sense her presence. No one had driven it since she’d last driven it. However, I could never sell it, despite the girls wanting me to.

Jenny was twenty-two and Annie was twenty. Both were working in Phoenix, getting their funds together for college, which started again in the fall. They shared an apartment close to where Ed lived, so he kept an avuncular eye on them. They were both good girls and very pretty. They both looked like their mother, Jenny particularly, who had her mother’s sense of humour and quick temper. Annie was more like me in temperament, which meant slow to anger, but keep clear when riled.

I missed them, but recognised that this was a dull place for girls their age. The local boys were nice guys, but not necessarily the brightest sparks in the box, so life in the city was far more exciting for them.

Annie had a nice boyfriend who was about to start his second year in med-school with her. Jenny had dumped her third boyfriend, so was between men at the moment. She found guys her age too immature, she told me. I hoped she would steer clear of the older, married men. She was doing law and was a bright kid.

José, my right hand man, came out of his cabin, and wandered over to me.

“Seá±or John, Maria wants to know if you want supper tonight?” he said.

“Sure. Tell Maria that I would love supper. And José?”

“Seá±or?”

“I’m aware I have been a royal pain in the ass recently. Thanks for just being there. And tell Maria the same,” I said.

He grinned and wandered away. He was about sixty and his plump wife was about ten years younger. He looked after the horses and the ranch, while she was housekeeper and cook. They were wonderful people, and I don’t know how I could have coped without them.
 
 
I went to the house and entered. It was always so empty and bleak. I had loved the house, but now it was a love-hate relationship. Sally’s spirit was still here, so I could never sell it, or leave. But it was a constant reminder to me, and I hated that.

Jenny and Annie had made me clear out Sally’s clothes, despite me not wanting to. When we were done and they had left, I put them all back. I just liked having something of her around me.

I kept her jewellery as she had made me promise to give her engagement and wedding rings to my next bride. I had laughed, saying, “You know I could never find anyone as wonderful as you.”

“Oh, John, no one should be alone. Promise me you will at least look,” she had said.

So I had promised. I kept meaning to start looking, tomorrow.

Maria brought me some supper to the dining table, so I munched my way through her good solid cooking.

After supper, I took one of the horses for a ride out to the desert, trying to imagine Sally was with me. I often did this, and talked to her as if she was with me. Sometimes I almost heard her reply.

God, I missed her so much!
 
 
Two days later, I was in the office when Ed called me.

“Big Jay, I got the tickets.”

“Okay, when?”

“We fly into London Heathrow on the 2nd September, at 07:00 local time,” he said.

That was only a week away.

“When are we coming back?”

“We come back on the 24th, so we’ll be there for three weeks. Is that okay?”

I thought for a moment. Looking at my diary, I could see nothing to stop me going. I realised I hadn’t taken any time off since the funeral.

“Okay, where are we flying from?”

“Phoenix, direct. Okay?”

“Sure, and did you get first class?”

“Yup.”

I laughed.

“Okay, fax me the details, and I’ll see you at the airport,” I said.

“Sure, see ya!”

It was nice having something to look forward to for a change, so the day of deparure couldn’t arrive soon enough. Pete was happy to take over and hold the reins while I was gone, and I had let the county sheriff’s office know that I was going to be away.

Pam, my sister, called the evening before we left, to make sure that I met some nice English women. I told her that the chances of me finding a bride in England were about a million to one.

I had never flown first class before, so I thoroughly enjoyed the experience. Being six-six tall meant that most flights were murder for me, so it was real nice having all that room. We were on a United Airlines flight. They gave us a superb dinner, and I settled down to watch the movie.
 
 
I surprised myself by sleeping for most of the way. The flight was an overnight job and, due to the time difference, we lost about eight hours somewhere. We arrived at a little after seven am, local time, and it was much cooler in London.

Ed had hired us a car, so we caught the small bus to the rental offices. I had never been to Britain before and I was surprised as to how busy the roads were. Ed had hired us a Mercedes sedan. It was a comfortable and a beautiful piece of engineering. He had driven in England before, so after I got over the initial terror of finding myself on the wrong side of the car, the wrong side of the road, and surviving my first roundabout, I settled down to watch the scenery.

Ed had this idea of driving straight down to the county of Dorset and finding the village in which our ancestor was last recorded as living. He had made no hotel reservations, saying that there were pubs every few hundred yards, with bed and breakfast places all over the place. I was not convinced. I would have been happier knowing he had reserved a decent motel room or something.

He called his old Air Force buddy and arranged to stay with him for the second week. Leaving the last week open for us to do anything we wanted. I just relaxed and watched the green English countryside float past. It really was green. I was used to the yellows and browns, so found the greens refreshingly strange.

The sun came out and it turned into a beautiful day. I read the map, as we followed the M3 motorway down until it turned into the M27, and then we drove through the New Forest. We stopped at a lay by and I saw the wild horses grazing free in a huge piece of open countryside. I was surprised at the amount of open spaces. I had always pictured England as a crowded place, but I was finding my preconceptions shattered every mile.

Ed had this piece of paper, with the following thereon: -
 
 

Henry James Collingwood. B. 1834 Wareham, Dorset. Late of Hutchings Farm, Church Knowle, Dorset. Joined RN (Royal Navy) 1850, deserted 1860, Maine, USA. m. Eleanor Ryan 1861, died 1907. Had issue: 1. John b. 1862, 2. Mary b. 1864, 3. Rufus 1866(d.1866).

 
 
There was more, but it related to the family in the States, and we knew all about them. We were aiming for this farm at a place called Church Knowle.

Ed had bought a road map, so I looked at the area we were headed to. All these little lanes, they looked like the tracks of drunken ants in the sand. We reached Bournemouth in a couple of hours, and we got lost trying to find the ferry to a place called Studland. Finally, we found the ferry, crossing a tiny piece of water, to find a different world on the other side.

I fell in love with this little piece of England, with its wide-open spaces and the wonderful views of the ocean. I saw the deer roaming through the heather and the wild horses amongst the gorse. The road to Corfe was something else. It went up and down, bending here and there. I loved it, as it was just so different to Arizona.

When we turned the corner and saw the ruins of the castle at Corfe, I was amazed. I thought all castles in England were all repaired and had lords and ladies living in them. I had no idea of the history of this castle, so I wanted to stop and have a look round.

But Ed wanted to get to Church Knowle and get a room in the pub. So we went across at the cross roads, heading up an even narrower and windier lane for a while. Then we were in Church Knowle, but before we blinked we were out of the other side. Ed turned the car round and we headed back into the village. It was really quaint, with flowers everywhere! They were in the ground, in tubs, hanging baskets, window boxes and anywhere else you could think of.

We parked in the parking lot behind the pub, The New Inn, and found the place packed out. There was a walking group there, so we ordered our lunch and we went and sat at a table outside in the sunshine. I had my first pint of English beer. I found it real nice, as it had a lot more flavour than our American beers, and it was even chilled. Another preconception shattered.

By the time we got our food, which was also very good, we had both had two pints of bitter, but they were way more powerful than what I was used to. It was just as well I had no driving to do. I had a huge piece of fish in beer batter with large French fries, called chips. It was very different to anything I’d had before, but I liked it.

We sat and watched the world go by and I found myself really relaxed for the first time in over a year. I had no worries and nothing to do, and it was great. Ed went and asked about some beds for the night, but the place was booked solid. The landlord rang around the village to see if any of the B&B places had vacancies, and we lucked out.

Still, we were told that there were plenty of places within half an hour’s drive, so not to worry too much about it. After lunch we set off on foot to find Hutchings Farm.

The pub landlord directed us to the road back to Corfe, so off we went. After fifteen minutes, we came to a delightful cottage, set back from the road, with the most wonderful garden, with beautiful flowers in the borders. My first thought was that Sally would have fallen in love with this house.

Ed went to walk on by, but I saw the name on the gate. “Hutchings Cottage” it said.

“Ed!”

“Yeah?”

I pointed to the gate.

“We want Hutchings Farm, not the cottage,” he said, looking at his map, which had neither marked.

I went to the gate and saw a lady sitting in the garden at a patio table, shaded by a large parasol, using a laptop computer. I felt guilty disturbing her, so I watched her for a while, hoping she would glance up and see me.

She was around thirty-five to forty I guess, with blonde hair in a nice style. She was very attractive with a lovely figure, wearing a summer dress. Her skin was tanned a golden brown. Her long legs were stretched out under the table and her bare feet had painted toenails. She was not an expert typist, but a heck of a lot better that me. Her delicate fingers, with crimson, shaped nails, danced across the keys, as she concentrated on what she was doing.

I could see this could go on all day, so I cleared my throat and spoke to her.

“Excuse me, Ma’am. I’m sorry to intrude, but I wonder if you could help us?” I said.
 
 

*          *          *
 
End of Part 1
 
 
To Be Continued...

 
David buries his wife after she loses her fight against cancer. He is nearly 50, and their children are now grown up, so he breaks the news that he is going to undertake that which he wanted to do for as long as he could remember — a sex change. He had struggled with his transsexuality all his life, but his love for his wife and respect for her meant he just played the hand that he had been dealt, up to now, that is.

Meanwhile, in the USA, grizzled Police Chief John Collingwood comes to near breaking point. Stressed from his job, his grief over his dead wife, and the despair of near alcoholism, he embarks on a trip to the UK with his brother to seek out his family tree.

Two very different people find a very different future, they also find each other...

but will it work?

---

Tanya has a new website where she will display her latest works first and then to BigCloset TopShelf a few weeks later is here at Tanya Allan's Tales .
Tanya's Book Shop where she is selling her works in book form is at http://tanyaallan.authorshaunt.com/shop.php . Please Visit!

---

 
The Legal Stuff: A Girl Can But Dream  © 2006,2009,2010 Tanya Allan
 
This work is the property of the author, and the author retains full copyright, in relation to printed material, whether on paper or electronically. Any adaptation of the whole or part of the material for broadcast by radio, TV, or for stage plays or film, is the right of the author unless negotiated through legal contract. Permission is granted for it to be copied and read by individuals, and for no other purpose. Any commercial use by anyone other than the author is strictly prohibited, and may only be posted to free sites with the express permission of the author.
 
This work is fictitious, and any similarities to any persons, alive or dead, are purely coincidental. Mention is made of persons in public life only for the purposes of realism, and for that reason alone. Certain licence is taken in respect of medical procedures, terms and conditions, and the author does not claim to be the fount of all knowledge.
 
The author accepts the right of the individual to hold his/her (or whatever) own political, religious and social views, and there is no intention to deliberately offend anyone. If you wish to take offence, that is your problem.
 
This is only a story, and it contains adult material, which includes sex and intimate descriptive details pertaining to genitalia. If this is likely to offend, then don’t read it.
 
Please enjoy.
Tanya
 
 

 
 
 
Chapter 3
 
 
Dee
 
I jumped, as I was miles away. I looked up and saw this very large man looking at me from over my garden gate. He smiled, looking sheepishly at me.

“I’m sorry, Ma’am. I didn’t mean to startle you. But we are kinda in a fix, so could do with a little help,” he said.

I saved my work, shutting the lid of my laptop. I stood up and walked towards the gate. He was a very tall, powerfully built man, who could be anything from forty-five to fifty-five, dressed in a red and white checked shirt and blue jeans. I had to smile when I saw the cowboy boots. He had very short sandy hair that was mostly grey now. His deeply tanned face was almost leathery with the time he had spent outdoors in the sun, which was why it was so difficult to estimate his age. He had the most wonderful grey eyes, with laughter lines around them. He was very rugged looking, but he had ever such a gentle voice.

“Oh yes, what seems to be the problem?” I said, realising that I sounded very English and proper.

“Howdy Ma’am. My name is John Collingwood, and that’s my brother, Edward, down there, about to get run over,” he said, smiling. “We arrived from Arizona this morning, and we are looking for Hutchings Farm. Can you help us?”

“Why don’t you come in, and do try to get your brother off the road?” I asked, and opened the gate. “You really should tell him that it isn’t a good idea to play with the motor cars like that.”

John laughed, turning and shouting for his brother. He stepped through the gate and came into the garden.

“Thank you, Ma’am, I appreciate this,” he said. He stood looking at the garden for a few moments, as we waited for his brother.

Edward was puffing when he arrived. He was completely different to John. He was shorter, overweight and pasty faced, as if he had spent all his time in an office. He looked very unfit. He also had an almost greasy smile, which gave the impression that he was always trying to sell me something.

“You have a beautiful garden, Ma’am. My wife would have adored this place,” John said.

“Would have?” I said.

“Yeah, she died a year ago. Cancer,” he said, but the hurt was ever pervasive through his eyes.

I smiled, but with little humour.

“I’ve been there. I’m alone now too. Cancer, eighteen months ago,” I said. What was I doing? Here was I opening up my darkest miseries to a total stranger.

He turned and looked at me. I saw reflected in his eyes the pain that I felt. He smiled and I smiled back.

“Hey guys. Hutchings Farm?” said Edward.

John looked annoyed for the briefest moment, but then his eyes softened again.

“Yeah. I’m sorry, Ma’am, I forgot for a moment,” he said.

“My name is Deborah, but all my friends call me Dee,” I said.

John smiled and his straight white teeth gleamed. His face was transformed by the smile, but I guessed that he hadn’t smiled very much recently.

“Hi, Dee, it’s a pleasure,” he said, smiling again. The way he said it was such that I believed that he felt it really was a pleasure. He held out his large hand, so I placed my smaller hand in his, and we shook. He had warm, calloused hands, but he was gentle, not crushing. I liked him immediately.

Edward was too busy looking at the map, so I invited them to sit down.

“Can I get you a drink?” I asked.

“No thanks,” said Ed.

“That would be real nice, Dee,” John said and I laughed.

“Let’s see the map, first,” I said, peering at it. I immediately saw their problem.

“This map is no good. It’s too recent,” I announced. “Hutchings farm is no more, as it was split up before the last war. Hutchings House is up the lane over there, and Hutchings Yard is the old converted farm buildings and barns. There are four separate homes there now, mostly holiday homes. The farmland is now all part of Knowle Farm, but some of it is now the campsite.

“This cottage is the old farm hands’ cottages converted into one four bedroom house, with garage. I’ve only been here a few months. I came here after, well, to get away from memories.

“There is another small apartment above the garage. When my children come to stay there is plenty of room. My daughter Sarah and her husband and baby, Amy, usually go into the flat, as Amy can scream to her heart’s content, so no one else is disturbed,” I said.

“You have a grand-daughter?” John asked, surprised.

“Yes, she is nearly four months old now,” I said. “Why?”

“You don’t seem old enough!” he said, and I blushed.

“My daughter is twenty-five, so I was twenty-three when we had her. My sons are a little younger. So work it out,” I said, smiling.

“Then you look mighty good for your age. I put you at under forty,” he said.

“Keep going, I like you very much,” I joked, and he blushed deeply under his tan.

“So these cottages are where the farm hands lived?” Edward asked.

“Probably, here and in the village,” I said, “Why?”

Edward explained their strange quest, so it seems very likely that Henry James Collingwood actually lived in my house, or part of it, at one time!
 
 
“Well, I’ll be blowed,” Edward said.

“Not by me,” I muttered, but to my embarrassment John heard me. He grinned and I blushed again.

“Would you mind if we took some photographs?” Edward asked.

“Be my guest,” I said, and he must have taken a roll of film on the house, the garden, me and John, John, me, himself by John, John and him, by me. I wished I had shares in Kodak.

He went off to take pictures of the other parts of the old farm. John made no move to follow him. I gestured to another chair, so he sat.

“Would you like that drink now?” I asked.

“Don’t go to any trouble on my account,” he said. He grinned when I rolled my eyes at him.

“I am going to have a drink, will you join me?” I said.

He grinned again and, oh, he had such a nice smile.

“Sure, that would be nice.”

“What would you like?”

“What are you having?”

“I was going to have a mug of tea, but I have cold drinks, and I think my sons may have left some beer.”

“No beer, I had some for lunch, so I’m still working that off. I have never had real English tea, may I try that?”

“Of course, if you don’t mind a mug. I hate the little cups, you don’t get enough,” I said, going into the kitchen.

He followed me in, but his huge frame filled my small kitchen. His presence made me feel strangely safe.

“Can I help?” he asked.

“Will your brother want anything?”

“Give him a coffee, as he’s addicted to the stuff - black and very sweet. I swear he will have a cardiac arrest soon,” John said.

I boiled the kettle, but was conscious that he was watching me.

I looked at him, so he dropped his gaze.

“Have you any children?” I asked.

“Two girls, Jenny is twenty-two, and Annie is twenty. Jenny is in law school, and Annie is going to be a doctor. How about you, you mentioned your daughter, what about your sons?” he asked.

“Stephen is twenty-three, he is a Lieutenant in the Royal Marines, while Jonathon is at Oxford studying engineering,” I said, and made the tea. “What do you do?” I asked.

“I am the Chief of Police in a small town called Midhurst, in Arizona.”

“Gosh, how exciting. Can they spare you?”

“Sure. This is the first vacation I have taken since Sally died.”

“God, it is so hard. Every day is such a struggle, don’t you find that?” I said.

Once again, I could see his eyes mirror the pain I felt, and he nodded.

“I don’t think the pain ever goes away, I guess you just learn to live with it,” he said.

“I miss not being able to share the little things. Amy was born just after….” I choked, unable to continue. I had not shared this much with anyone before.

A warm strong hand reached out and held my forearm.

“I know. You don’t have to tell me. I know,” he said, and I looked into those grey eyes. Through my tears, I saw his tears. I’m not sure how it happened, but we wept together. Before I knew it, he wrapped his arms around my waist, drawing me close. I placed my arms around his neck and we sobbed silently together.
 
 
After a while, I managed to stop, but he kept going. I had cried many times, but I sensed that he had never been able to cry for her before. I sensed this was probably the first time. So, I just held him in my arms and let him cry. I was in bare feet, so he was about a clear foot taller than I was, yet his head was nestled on my shoulder, as his tears rolled down my bare arms, making my dress damp.

He smelled of sandalwood and his muscles beneath his shirt were very firm and well defined. He was a big and powerful man, yet was crying in my arms like a baby.

“It’s okay,” I said and stroked his hair. “You need to cry, she needs you to cry.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, muffled against my shoulder.

“Shhh. It really is okay. I understand,” I said, as his tears just kept on coming. His large frame was wracked with heaving sobs, yet even so, I sensed he was trying to control himself. But the grief and the pain were just too great, but it needed to come out, whatever he felt.

Finally, after what seemed an eternity, he came to a stop, breaking away from me, blowing his nose on a large white handkerchief.

“I am really sorry, Dee, I don’t know what came over me,” he said, embarrassed. I reached out my hand and touched him on the arm.

“You’ve never cried for her before, have you?” I asked.

He shook his head, unable to speak.

“Then I know what came over you.”

He looked at me, frowning. I squeezed his arm.

“You have always been surrounded by people you know, and those who know you. You are a Police Chief, so you represent strength and power, so you have to be seen as in control at all costs. Or at least that is what your subconscious thinks. Your daughters looked to you for support, as did everyone else, so at last you are with someone who knows your pain, but doesn’t know you. In stands to reason, I have no preconceptions about you, you don’t have to prove anything to me, so you feel free to release all the stress and pain with me,” I said.

I handed him the tray with three mugs on it.

“Take this out, I have to go to and repair my make up, my mascara has run dreadfully. I must look a real sight,” I said.

He held onto my hand. “No. You look beautiful. Thank you. Thank you so much,” he said, as my heart gave a lurch.

I smiled and squeezed his hand in return.

“It is perfectly all right. It’s fine. How do you feel?” I asked.

He frowned and then smiled. “I feel okay, it is almost like a bit of my darkness has gone,” he said.

“Good, then you need to cry more often. I am continually crying, and it really does help,” I said, going up to my bedroom to fix my mascara. I sat at my dressing table, watching as my hand shook with the little mascara brush. What was happening to me?

I had a funny butterfly feeling in my tummy, and I felt sort of excited. I wondered if big John was having an effect on me. I smiled at my reflection. I examined myself, critically, but could only see Dee, the woman. David was gone.
 
 
Chapter 4
 
 
John
 
With my emotions all in a whirl, I took the tray out to the patio table, and Ed appeared.

“That was amazing,” he said.

“Yeah? What was?”

“I met this old guy standing by a wall, just down the road. He says that there is an old woman in the village called Eileen Collingwood. I guess she could be a relative,” he said.

“You don’t say. You’d better go see her. Oh, there is a coffee here for you,” I said, handing him the mug.

He sat down and rambled on about the conversation he had with the old guy. I didn’t listen. My mind was still whirling over what had just happened in Dee’s kitchen. I felt so embarrassed, but she made it seem so right. Just as I was trying to work out what I felt, she came out into the sunshine again, carrying a cake on a plate.

She had repaired her make up and although she didn’t wear very much, she looked stunningly attractive to me. She had crystal-clear blue eyes, which were what Sally used to call ‘smiley eyes’. She gave me a big warm smile and sat down, picking up her mug.

“If you want sugar, John, there is some on the tray,” she said.

“No, I take it without. Thanks,” I said.

“Help yourself to some cake, I made it yesterday, as I had some friends over,” she said.

She had cut a few slices, so I took one. I wasn’t into cake, but I wanted to be polite.

It was really light, with fresh strawberries and real fresh cream in it. It tasted wonderful.

“I put some fresh Dorset clotted cream into it. I hope you like it.”

Ed took a second slice and she smiled at me. She had a lovely smile. I really did feel so much better.

Ed asked her whether she knew anyone called Collingwood.

“No, but then I haven’t been here that long. You could check the phone book, or even the Parish records at the church. If it is a village family, then all the births, baptisms, marriages and deaths are recorded there.”

Ed stood up.

“Right, come on Big Jay, let’s get to the church,” he said.

“Hey, Ed, just chill a little. We’re here for three weeks, so we don’t have to do everything on the first day. Besides we have to find somewhere to stay tonight,” I said. This passion he had was not really shared, so I was able to stand back a bit.

“Have you nowhere to stay?” Dee asked. Part of me willed her to offer us a room, but part of me was afraid of what might happen if she did.

“Not yet, the pub is full and all the B&Bs are full, but we may find something in Corfe or Wareham,” Ed said.

“Look, I have some rooms. If you need a bed, then you could stay here. I won’t charge you, as I could do with the company,” she said, looking straight at me.

“Are you sure? That would be really great. We could say that we stayed in the place old Henry came from,” said my brother.

“Dee, you don’t have to do this. We don’t want to put you to any trouble,” I said, but my heart seemed strangely excited.

She stared straight into my eyes and smiled.

“It’s no trouble, I promise. I want you,” she paused, “to stay!”

I responded to her smile, returning it. Her eyes almost mesmerised me, so I forced myself to look away, taking another mouthful of tea.

“Thanks, it’s very good of you,” I said.

“Hey. I’ll go get the car. Is it okay to park it on your drive, Dee?” Ed asked.

“Yes, that’s fine, just keep to the left so I can get my car out,” she said, looking at me. She dropped her gaze and smiled. I felt like a teenager again.

Ed finished his coffee and went off to get the car.

“Do you like the tea?” she asked me.

“It’s okay,” I said. “I’m not used to it.”

She laughed. It was a delightful sound. I guess she hadn’t laughed much, rather like me, I suppose.

“I used to hate the stuff, but I find it quite refreshing now,” she said.

We sat for a moment, just enjoying the surroundings. The birds were calling and the breeze rustled through the trees. It was so peaceful here.

“What made you come down here to live?” I asked.

“We used to live nearer London. We needed to be close for work reasons. We ran our own catering business, but when I became alone, I decided it was too painful to stay in the home we shared for twenty-five years. The children have all grown up and have left, so I wanted to make a complete break. I sold up and came down here, as we always loved Dorset.”

“Twenty-five years. We’d been married for twenty-six,” I said, and she gave me a sad smile.

“It is the loneliness I hate most. Things happen in my life that I would so like to share. But I can’t,” she said, and I thought for a moment we would both start again. She changed the subject abruptly.

“So, you are here for three weeks?”

“Yeah, Ed wants to trace our ancestor and then go to Wales to stay with this buddy of his. They were in the Air Force together, but this guy married a girl over here and stayed. They run a pub somewhere. I don’t even know where they are,” I said.

“Are you going to Wales with him?”

“I guess, unless something else happens,” I said, not really knowing why I said that.

She smiled at me. Suddenly, I wanted to reach out and touch her, but I couldn’t. Sally’s memory was still so strong.

“I love the garden in the afternoon. The sun comes in, and it is just divine,” she said, putting her head back and closing her eyes.

She had a lovely slender neck. Her golden hoop earrings caught the sun, while her silvery blonde hair reflected the sunshine. She had shapely legs, and her breasts were firm and round as they pressed against the thin fabric of her dress as she leaned back in the sun.

I wasn’t really an expert, but she had the figure and grace of a much younger woman. She also seemed to give me an impression of hidden strength. This wasn’t a prissy, middle-aged woman who’d faint at the first sign of blood. She had strength that reflected from her eyes; eyes that told me of hurts and trials that she had suffered and over which she had triumphed. Dee looked like a delicate English rose, but I sensed that she had a very strong stalk and sharp thorns.
 
 
I felt the stirrings of sexual attraction and arousal for the first time since Sally died. It made me feel very uncomfortable, as I had no idea how to deal with this.

She still wore a wedding ring, and seeing it made me feel mine. I rolled it around my finger, drawing strength from its familiarity, a gesture I had seen her do. We shared so much pain, so it was so nice not having to explain.

She opened her eyes and caught me looking at her. She simply smiled and brushed some hair back. She was so graceful and cultured that I immediately knew that Sally and she would have got on well.

Unable to deal with the feelings I was experiencing, I picked up the tray and carried it back to the kitchen. I put it on the worktop and started to come out again when I noticed riding boots and a safety helmet by the back door. I went out and asked, “Who’s the rider?”

“Me. I ride most mornings. I have a wealthy widow-friend with stables. She’s away at the moment, so she’s asked me to exercise her horses. Do you ride?”

“Do bears shit in the woods?” I asked, with a grin, and then regretted it. I hadn’t meant to be so coarse. But she grinned mischievously.

“I don’t know, do they? We don’t have any bears in England,” she said.

I laughed. “We, no, I have a small ranch, we raise horses. I ride whenever I can,” I said.

“Then you can both join me, I go out at about seven,” she said.

“You won’t get my brother near a horse, but I’d love to. I guess you have what we call the English saddle over here?”

“Yes, sorry, we don’t have your heavy cowboy style,” she said, with that smile of hers.

Ed arrived with the car, parking it when she had asked him to. I went and collected my bag. It was so strange, for even leaving her for a few moments made me want to go back to her.

What was happening to me?
 
 
I almost felt relief when I was back in her company. I felt very confused, but somehow eager to see where this would lead.

She led us into the house, where I saw the beautiful antique furniture and tasteful décor. She certainly had real good taste. Sally would have approved! We followed her upstairs, where she pointed to various doors.

“That’s my room. That’s the guest bathroom, and John you have this room, Edward, you take that one there. There are towels in your rooms, I have my own bathroom, so don’t worry about hogging the shower. There is plenty of hot water, so if you want a bath or shower, just have one. I expect as you have been travelling so far, you may like one now. I am off to the shops, I have to get some supper,” she said.

Ed rubbed his hands together.

“Oh, a shower, I could do with one, how about you Big Jay?” he asked.

“You go ahead,” I said, taking my bag into my room. It was a pleasant, airy room. It had a large double bed in it, and the room colour was predominantly pale green, with red roses in the curtains and counterpane. It was cool and smelled fresh, like her. I suddenly remembered the smell of her hair as we wept together - it was lavender. Sally had loved lavender water.

“Hey Sal, are you trying to tell me something?” I said aloud.

I went downstairs and found her putting some shoes on.

“Is everything all right?” she asked.

“Yeah, it’s a beautiful room. Thanks, you’ve been so kind.”

“Well, I’m off, I won’t be long, but I need to stock up. I need to get some stuff if I have guests.”

“Let me come and help carry,” I said.

“There is no need, I am quite strong,” she said, smiling again.

“It is the least I could do.”

“Fine, I’d love the company,” she said.

I told Ed what I was doing, and walked out onto the gravel drive. She opened the garage and drove a silver Mercedes sports car out into the afternoon sun. She pressed a button and the top came down.

“Jump in,” she said, so I slid into the passenger seat.

She drove far faster than I felt comfortable, but she drove well. I kept seeing Sally drive her convertible; they even drove the same way.
 
 
We arrived at a town called Swanage, where she parked the car in a parking lot next to a supermarket. We went into the supermarket and she pushed a cart, only she called it a trolley. I found it easy to talk to her, as we chatted away about everything and nothing. She filled the trolley with goods as we went.

“Is there anything you two don’t like?” she asked.

“I guess, but I wouldn’t worry. I’ve never been to Europe before, so it’s all new to me! I’m a rather dull guy. I like steak and Mexican food. I haven’t been very adventurous,” I admitted.

“How about your brother?”

“I don’t know. He never liked nuts, but I guess he’s okay now.”

She smiled, as we walked through the liquor section.

“What do you guys like to drink? There is a little beer, but I will have to get some more. The boys always drink it, so it won’t be wasted.”

“I know Ed likes his Miller Lite, I really don’t care,” I said.

She pointed to a case of Miller.

“Then you can put that in the trolley,” she said, so I did.
 
 
We went to the checkout, where she paid by credit card. I saw the name on the card, Deborah J. Cartwright. Then I did a silly thing, as I immediately worked out that if she married me, she would have the came initials. The stranger thing was that I felt Sally smiling at me.

We loaded the trunk of the car and then, instead of going home, she set off into the town, on foot.

“I must go to the butcher,” she said.

“There was meat in the market,” I pointed out.

“Yes, but I never get meat there, the butcher has much better meat.”

I liked the small shops, so we talked about the differences between here and Arizona.

“I’d love to see it, one day,” she said.

“Well, anytime, you can come and stay,” I said, and meant it. I found that I really wanted her to see the ranch.
 
 
We went into the butcher’s shop, where a large man with a blue and white striped apron greeted her.

“Missus Cartwright. How are you today?”

“I’m well, thanks George. How’s your wife’s ankle?”

“Much better, she can weight bear on it now, so she is getting back to normal,” he said, glancing at me with mild curiosity.

“Right, I need enough to feed two large American friends. George, this is John Collingwood from Arizona, he and his brother are staying with me for a few days as they trace their family roots,” she said.

“Really? Well, all the best, I hope you’re successful, sir. What can I get you?”

Dee then seemed to spend a fortune on cuts of meat that I didn’t recognise. I carried the bags back to the car, and they sure were heavy.
 
 
We drove back, not quite so fast. It was almost as if she was trying to stretch out the time we were together. I had no problem with that. I watched her as she drove.

Her hair was blowing in the slipstream, so she kept brushing it out of her face. Her gestures were so similar to Sally’s that they pained me a little. She had on some sunglasses, so I thought she looked like a movie star. She pointed out items of interest as we passed them, and then I saw the castle again.

“The castle was destroyed during the civil war. That is the English civil war. It was one of the last bastions of the Royalists in this area, and the Parliament soldiers took it, destroying it. The end of the war was not long coming after that,” she told me.

“The civil war, huh? That wasn’t that long ago, was it?”

“Let’s see, there is belief it may have been a Roman defensive site, but the castle we see the ruins of today was a rebuild in the 11th century of what was a wood castle back into the 9th century. The village and its famous castle are built mainly from the local Purbeck stone which is probably the finest limestone available for building and polishing in England, and is used throughout the world.

“In the 13th century King John went to great lengths improving his accommodation and the defences. He built a fine hall and chapel together with domestic buildings.”

“King John, is that the one who mixed with Robin Hood and the Sheriff of Nottingham?”

“So Hollywood would have us believe. Actually King John is mainly remembered for taking the first steps in relinquishing total power and giving a degree of power to lesser mortals. Have you heard of the Manga Carta?”

“Sure, but I guess I don’t know what it was,” I admitted.

“It was a document, in a way, not unlike the declaration of independence, whereby the barons and other powerful nobles backed the king into a corner and made him agree to what became the first tentative steps to democracy. Mind you, equal votes and power to the masses was a long time coming after that.”

“I can see I’ve some reading to do. What about the castle?”

Dee looked confused for a moment.

“The castle? Oh, the castle. Well, Henry III constructed additional walls, towers and gatehouses. Monarchs had come and gone until 1572 when Queen Elizabeth I sold it to Sir Christopher Hatton, her dancing master and some suppose a suitor.”

“How do you know all this?” I asked.

She grinned, looking much younger for a moment.

“I thought you might ask me, so I read it on the website,” she said.

I was impressed, as she could have told me she was an amateur historian and had an interest, but she displayed a rare trait, simple honesty. I respect that more than any other quality in a person.

“Anyway, in 1635 the Castle was sold to Sir John Bankes, the then Lord Chief Justice, more as a holiday home rather than as a first home. By 1643 the Parliamentarians occupied most of Dorset, the castle then survived a six-week siege. Sir John Bankes died in 1644 and the castle endured a number of half-baked blockades. Later in 1645 a second siege was started by Colonel Bingham, Governor of Poole, and courtesy of an insider the Roundheads took over in February 1646.

“The Castle was systematically destroyed by the Parliamentary forces, but the fact that some remains is surely testimony to strength of construction. Ownership remained with the Bankes Family until 1982 when it was bequeathed to the National Trust,” she said.

“Can people get to see the ruins?”

“Oh yes, it’s still maintained by the National Trust, so anyone can go and have a look. Why are you interested?”

“Yeah, I’d love to have a look sometime. I must confess to be more interested in that sort of thing than the old family tree.”

She laughed. “So why did you come?”

“I don’t really know. I just had to get away, and Ed paid for the tickets,” I admitted.

“Are you and your brother close?”

“Not especially. We lead very different lives. He is divorced and is very materialistic. I am more down to earth and have more basic ideals. But he’s family, and I believe that family should stick together. You can choose your friends, but you can’t choose your family, so if you get along, so much the better.”

“That’s true. I am blessed with a wonderful family,” she said.

“Are your folks still alive?”

“My parents? No, my Dad died about ten years ago, while my mother died four years ago. How about yours?”

“Mom is still alive. She lives near my sister, Pamela, at a place called Flagstaff. It is the town nearest the Grand Canyon. But old Mom, is not that well now. She will be eighty-four next birthday,” I said.
 
 
She pulled into the drive and stopped the car.

We unloaded the groceries and carried them into the kitchen. Ed was watching TV in the drawing room.

“Hey Dee, I think your remote is busted, I can only get five channels,” he said.

“That’s because we only have five channels,” she said, grinning.

“Five? Last time I was here the people I visited had more than that,” Ed said.

“They probably had satellite or cable. I don’t watch that much TV, as it is mostly total bollocks,” she said.

“Bollocks?” I asked, frowning, and she laughed.

“I’m sorry. Bollocks is a slang word. It this context it means rubbish, but bollocks is the same as balls or testicles,” she said.

“So you reckon your TV shows are total balls?” I asked.

“Yup,” she said.

“Well at last!” I said.

“What?” she asked.

“John loathes TV with a passion, they only had one because of the kids, he rarely watches it,” Ed said.

“I can’t remember the last time I watched TV,” I said.

“No, I can’t either. I sometimes watch the evening news, but perhaps once or twice a week. I get all the news I want off the internet or from a paper,” Dee said.
 
 
The time was half past five. I was feeling quite tired, so I sat with Dee and Ed on the patio. I felt more relaxed than I had for a couple of years. So much so that I must have dozed off.

I woke up when Dee handed me a glass of ice-cold beer.

“Here, have this. It will give you an appetite.”

I looked at Ed, and saw he had already nearly finished his.

“You’ve been snoring, Big Jay,” he said with a smirk.

I took the glass and thanked Dee. It was real cold and went down smoothly.

Dee went into the house, as I sat with Ed in the garden. He was grinning.

“What’s so funny?” I asked.

“I just can’t believe our luck. I mean, here we are, actually staying in the same house as old Henry lived in, all those years ago. It’s uncanny!”

“He might not have done, and besides, the house is very different now,” I said.

“Yeah, I know that. But I still think it is all a bit cool. And that Dee, she’s a real nice lady,” he said.

“Yes, that’s a fact,” I said and drank my beer. I thought she was more than that, but kept quiet.

“So what did you guys talk about?”

“Death, grief and lots of little things. She’s asked me to go horse riding with her tomorrow,” I said.

“That’s great. I was going to check out the church. You coming?”

“No, you go ahead, it’s your project. When are you off to Wales?” I asked.

“What’s this, do I detect a hint of something like reluctance to join me in Wales? Are you staying here with the lady?” Ed asked.

“I don’t know. Maybe. She hasn’t asked me, but I like it here. I may just hang around for a while,” I said.

“No problem. I can go when I like. Are you sure you don’t want to come to Wales?”

“He’s your buddy, Ed. Besides, I have made a new friend here, and I feel it might go a little deeper.”

“You falling for Dee, John?”

I smiled, feeling conflicting emotions - some guilt, a little embarrassment, but mainly a tingle of excitement at what the future could hold in store.

“Hell, I don’t know,” I said, and then thought about it. Ed was my brother and knew me better than most. I liked Dee, I enjoyed her company, I liked her home, I found her attractive and fun to be with. As I thought of her, I found myself smiling.

“Maybe, Ed, maybe. She makes me smile. I haven’t smiled much recently. We get along real well. We’ve got a lot in common and I feel that Sally would have liked her,” I said.

“I’m glad, but Pam will be pissed though.”

“Why?”

“She was planning to introduce you to one of her divorced friends, Mary Ellen someone, a rich bitch with a penchant for horses. Pam thought you two would hit it off.”

“I am quite capable of looking after myself,” I said, getting annoyed with Pam now.

“So I noticed,” Ed said, as Dee came out with two more beers.
 
 

*          *          *
 
End of Part 2
 
 
To Be Continued...

 
David buries his wife after she loses her fight against cancer. He is nearly 50, and their children are now grown up, so he breaks the news that he is going to undertake that which he wanted to do for as long as he could remember — a sex change. He had struggled with his transsexuality all his life, but his love for his wife and respect for her meant he just played the hand that he had been dealt, up to now, that is.

Meanwhile, in the USA, grizzled Police Chief John Collingwood comes to near breaking point. Stressed from his job, his grief over his dead wife, and the despair of near alcoholism, he embarks on a trip to the UK with his brother to seek out his family tree.

Two very different people find a very different future, they also find each other...

but will it work?

---

Tanya has a new website where she will display her latest works first and then to BigCloset TopShelf a few weeks later is here at Tanya Allan's Tales .
Tanya's Book Shop where she is selling her works in book form is at http://tanyaallan.authorshaunt.com/shop.php . Please Visit!

---

 
The Legal Stuff: A Girl Can But Dream  © 2006,2009,2010 Tanya Allan
 
This work is the property of the author, and the author retains full copyright, in relation to printed material, whether on paper or electronically. Any adaptation of the whole or part of the material for broadcast by radio, TV, or for stage plays or film, is the right of the author unless negotiated through legal contract. Permission is granted for it to be copied and read by individuals, and for no other purpose. Any commercial use by anyone other than the author is strictly prohibited, and may only be posted to free sites with the express permission of the author.
 
This work is fictitious, and any similarities to any persons, alive or dead, are purely coincidental. Mention is made of persons in public life only for the purposes of realism, and for that reason alone. Certain licence is taken in respect of medical procedures, terms and conditions, and the author does not claim to be the fount of all knowledge.
 
The author accepts the right of the individual to hold his/her (or whatever) own political, religious and social views, and there is no intention to deliberately offend anyone. If you wish to take offence, that is your problem.
 
This is only a story, and it contains adult material, which includes sex and intimate descriptive details pertaining to genitalia. If this is likely to offend, then don’t read it.
 
Please enjoy.
Tanya
 
 

 
 
 
Chapter 5
 
 
Dee
 
I was preparing Boeuf Stroganoff for dinner, so while things just bubbled, I took Ed and John another beer. As I approached, they stopped talking, but I realised that Ed was looking smugly at his brother, who was unable to meet my gaze. I guessed they’d been talking about me.

“Some more beer, gentlemen?” I said.

“Thanks Dee, but you don’t need to wait on us,” John said.

“John tells me he's not coming to Wales with me,” Ed said, with a cheeky smile.

“Oh?” I said, and my heart raced a little as I looked at John.

John smiled again, I though he looked a little sheepish, as if he was a little boy caught out doing something he shouldn’t.

“I feel kinda outa line asking, but I was wondering if it would be okay to hang around here for a while longer? There’s so much to see and, well, I’m not here for very long,” he said, flushing slightly under his tan.

I didn’t want to show too much excitement, but I was so pleased. I was wondering how to ask him without offending his brother.

“Of course. Stay as long as you want. As I said, I like the company,” I said, smiling, but trying to sound as casual as I could. I went back to the kitchen quickly, so they couldn’t see my huge grin.
 
 
I laid the dining room table with the best silver, and opened a bottle of Cote du Rhone. I returned to the kitchen and finished everything off. I had prepared prawns fried in olive oil with garlic and chili, served with French bread. Followed by Boeuf Stroganoff, with rice, baby carrots, mange-tout and scallop potatoes. I had baked an apple pie for desert, and felt quite pleased with myself. Then I reflected on how a simple act of doing something I earned my living for so long could bring me so much pleasure. Then I realised that I desperately wanted to impress both men, but mainly John.

I shouted for them to come in for dinner.

As they walked into the dining room, I placed the sizzling prawns onto their mats.

I asked Ed to pour the wine, stating that the beer was in the fridge if they preferred. John joined me with some wine, but Ed stuck to his beers. They seemed to like the starter, while conversation flowed naturally. Ed was really into his ancestor hunt, wanting to track old Eileen Collingwood down. I cleared away the starters and brought out the main course.

I had to explain about the fillet of beef and what was in the recipe, as both men seemed very suspicious. I had not realised that if it wasn’t a steak, it probably wasn’t worth eating.

However, after a few mouthfuls they became effusive with their praise, and cleaned their plates. I had made a little extra, which they almost fought over. All the vegetables and side dishes were finished, so there is no greater compliment to a cook.

“Oh my God! I forgot the apple pie,” I shrieked. I rushed out and managed to catch it before it became too dark brown. I brought it in, but was surprised to see John looking very sombre.

“I’m sorry, was it something I said?” I asked.

“No, Dee. It’s me - Sally was always burning her apple pies. Just one of those silly memories,” John said, giving me a weak smile.

“Oh John, I am so sorry. I didn’t know,” I said, feeling awful, so I put my hand on his arm.

He took my hand and said, “There was no way you could have known. It isn’t your fault,” he said, gently squeezing my hand.

“I know. These bloody booby traps just spring out without any warning,” I said.

“That pie smells real good,” said Ed, changing the subject.

I dished up the pie, which we ate in a rather subdued mood. I gave them a coffee, cleared away the dishes and loaded the dishwasher. I was just washing up the pans when John appeared behind me, making me jump.

“Shit! You made me jump,” I said.

“Oh, I’m sorry Dee, I didn’t mean to,” he said, looking even more guilty.

“It’s alright, I was deep in thought,” I said.

“I came to apologise. You gave us a superb meal and I spoiled it at the end. I didn’t have to go all stupid,” he said. I loved the way he said it, pronouncing it as stoopid.

I put down my pan and took his hand.

“Oh John, you know you don’t have to apologise. I understand. I do exactly the same. Nearly every day something makes me cry. It could be a flower, a smell or a sound. Last week it was a piece of music. So why not an apple pie?” I told him.

He smiled, “Why are you so wonderful?” he asked.

“You don’t know me very well. I’m like you, a weak and foolish person, but I do understand, so that means a lot,” I said.

“You're damn right, there. Here, let me help you,” he replied, picking up a tea towel.

We finished the pans, so I cleaned the surfaces. It only took a minute. I caught him looking at me again.

“What?” I asked.

“I just want to say thanks. Thanks for the room and the food. The pie was great, just as good as Sally made. Thanks for your company, and for being understanding. But mainly thanks for just being there, I didn’t realise how bad I was.”

“Oh John, don’t be silly. It's a pleasure, really. Because it helps me too,” I said. I kissed him on the cheek and went to walk past him to the drawing room, but he held my hand, gently pulling me back to him.

He bent forward and, very tenderly, kissed me on the mouth. Before I knew what I was doing, my arms were round his neck and I was kissing him with so much passion, I didn’t know where it was coming from. Our tongues were exploring each other’s mouths, as his hands were grasping me tightly on my bottom. He pulled me close to him. I could feel him becoming aroused, so I pushed my pelvis tightly against him. One of his hands started to caress my right breast, and I felt my nipple harden under his touch.

I broke away, breathless and excited. I wanted him badly, as I never wanted anything before. I just wanted him to want me, but I was terrified of losing him.

He opened his mouth, but before he could speak, I placed my fingers against his lips.

“You were going to apologise. Don’t! I wanted that to happen, but it is me who should apologise,” I said.

He smiled, pulling me close to him again.

“I haven’t felt like this in years. Where are we going with this?” he asked frowning slightly. I sense we were both fumbling in the dark a bit.

“I don’t know. Where do you want it to go?”

He shrugged.

“Then let’s take things a day at a time. Okay?” I said.

“That suits me,” he said and then he kissed me again.

I wanted to tell him the truth, but I was terrified of losing him at this stage. I was so torn, as I didn’t want either of us to get hurt.

“John, I have to tell you.”

“What?”

My nerve went.

I shook my head.

“It’ll keep,” I said and kissed him.
 
 
The guys claimed they were very tired, as their body clocks were shot to hell. They were both in bed by half ten, so I went to bed as well. I lay awake for a long time, excited on the one hand that a man was so obviously interested in me, and I in him. I was desperately unhappy at the prospect of living a lie, or even worse, of telling him the truth and watching him walk away from me. I knew that I had to tell him, and tell him before anything got too serious.

I also rather hoped that he would pay me a nocturnal visit, but as two o'clock arrived, I knew he was too tired, so I drifted into an uneasy sleep.
 
 
I was up at seven the next morning, dressed in my jodhpurs and a pale pink blouse. I had taken some time to get my hair and make up look nice. This was like my first date, so I was excited.

I went down to the kitchen and boiled the kettle. I was just getting out some plates when a pair of strong arms gently engulfed me from behind and John kissed me on the nape of my neck. It sent tingles up my back.

“I have to tell you, those pants are the business,” he said. I laughed and turned round. Our lips met and we kissed for a long time.

Reluctantly, I broke off the kiss. He still held me close.

“Well, good morning. Did you sleep well? I asked.

“Too well. I got into bed, and the next thing it is seven a.m. I had half a mind to…” Then he stopped.

“I wanted you to, with more than half a mind,” I said, knowing what he was trying to say. He smiled and kissed me again.

“You look great, Dee. I really do like those pants,” he said.

“These are jodhpurs. You’re in England now. Pants are called underpants here; trousers or slacks are what you call pants,” I said.

“Whatever, you look real sexy in whatever you want to call them.”

“Do you want some breakfast?” I asked, changing the subject.

“Sure, what you got?”

“What do you want?”

“Are you on the menu?” he said, laughing. I stared at him, serious.

“Do you want me to be?”

He stared at me and slowly nodded. “I guess.”

“Then you may have to wait, how about some eggs and bacon to keep you going?” I said.

“Oh, okay. Thanks.”

“How do you like your eggs?”

“Dee, what have you done to me?” he said quietly. There was a slight tremor in his voice.

“What do you mean?”

“Why do I feel like a sixteen-year old on his first date?”

“Do you?”

“Yeah. I haven’t felt like this in years.”

Guilt over my secret hit me. I opened my mouth to tell him, but it didn’t come out.

“How about scrambled?” I asked instead, making him laugh.

“Sounds good to me.”
 
 
I busied myself with the bacon and eggs, so I got him to load the toaster and get the coffee. I opened a carton of orange juice and we sat at the kitchen table, like a real domesticated couple. I felt relaxed and safe in his company.

We munched in silence for a moment. I so wanted to tell him, yet was fearful of the consequences.

“You’ve done the same to me,” I said.

“What?”

“I feel like a girl on her first date.”

He laughed and took my hand.

“It all happened so fast, it's kinda taken me by surprise.”

“What has?”

“Dee, I think I’m falling in love with you,” he said and kissed my fingers.

“I know that I'm falling in love with you, Big Jay,” I said, quietly.

“What happens now?”

I shrugged.

“John. I must tell you something,” I said, trying to get my speech sorted in my mind.

“What is it?” he said, and kissed my fingers again. Once again, I couldn’t tell him.

“I didn’t want you to go to Wales,” I said.

“Neither did I.”
 
 
We finished breakfast and washed up. I left a note for Ed as to where everything was, but John told me that Ed only has coffee for breakfast.

I put my boots on, slung on a body-warmer and picked up my hard hat. John appeared wearing a big white Stetson on his head. It suited him.
 
 
We walked up the lane to the stables. They were only a couple of hundred yards away. As we walked along, he took my hand, so we walked hand in hand. My heart gave a lurch, so I vowed to tell him as soon as an opportunity presented itself, or at least before the day ended.

We arrived at the stables, where Jilly, my friend’s daughter was just mucking out. There were eight stalls and all were or had been occupied. We helped her with the mucking out. Then we saddled up a mare called Daisy for me, and a large gelding called Star for John.

He looked every inch the cowboy, appearing very much at home in the saddle. We took the horses at a walk along the road for half a mile, and then through a gate and onto the bridleway. We followed this for a few miles, and then onto the open heath. I galloped Daisy to the top of a small hill, where there were half a dozen trees. John followed and we gave the horses a break under the trees.

I sat on a fallen tree, where I took off my helmet and body-warmer, as the sun was now quite warm.

John sat beside me and put his arms around me.

“It really is lovely here. I can’t get over how green it is. Arizona is so different,” he said.

I leaned back and rested against him. I loved him holding me. I never wanted this time to end. We just sat there, the horses grazing under the trees, their reins tied to prevent escape.

He kissed me and I responded. It was rather strange, as he was the first man to make me feel this way, and I had never kissed a man before him. I actually liked the experience, as I felt myself becoming sexually aroused.

John broke off and immediately apologised.

“What for? I was hoping you would kiss me again,” I said, and he smiled.

“I guess I felt that we were trampling on memories,” he said.

“Would Sally want you to remain a celibate?” I asked.

He laughed. “No, in fact she made me promise to remarry as soon as I found the right woman.”

I smiled. “Oh well, in that case, you’ll probably remain celibate. You're far too nice for most women,” I said.

“How about you?”

“Is that a proposal?” I said, teasing him.

He looked at me, smiling that gentle smile, “It wasn’t intended to be, I wondered what your husband would have wanted you to do,” he said.

“Me? I don’t know. I suppose I made a similar promise, but somehow I had sort of let it slip,” I said, aware that I had let another opportunity to tell him the truth pass by.

“I meant what I said, this morning. I think I've fallen in love with you, but I'm terrified of making a mistake, it's been so long,” he said.

“I know. Let’s just go slowly and carefully. I meant what I said too,” I said, trying to steel myself to tell him. I opened my mouth to tell him but he went and spoiled it by kissing me.
 
 
The moment passed and he broke away, stood up and untied his horse.

We remounted the horses and rode back to the stables, the long way. It was a lovely ride and he told me all about his Sally. He told me how they had met and of their time together, right up to the funeral. It was very emotional and he clearly had difficulty telling me.

“She was my strength. She was always there for me. I loved her to bits, and she was my best friend,” he said, to finish up.

I nodded. “That was the same as us,” I said, I didn’t need to say any more.

He looked at me.

“You're the first person I've been able to talk to. I’ve never shared this with anyone before,” he said.

I simply said nothing, but took his hand and gave it a squeeze.

“Thanks,” he said.

“I haven’t done anything.”

“You here, and that means everything,” he said, which choked me up completely.
 
 
We finally rode into the stable yard and rejoined the rest of the world. We wiped the horses down, returning them to their boxes, where Jilly fed and watered them.

“Will you be here tomorrow?” she asked. I looked at John. He grinned and nodded.

“Yes, if that’s alright?”

“That’s brilliant, it means I have two less to exercise. You two are doing me a real favour,” Jilly replied.

We walked slowly back to the house, it began to rain, I noticed that Ed had gone out, as the hire car was missing from the drive.

“I'm going to have a shower, I smell like a horse,” I told John.

I went up and took my riding clothes off, I was right, as I did smell like a horse. I stepped into the shower and turned on the water. I closed my eyes and let the hot water cascade off the top of my head and down onto my breasts. I started working out the best way to phrase my terrible secret so I didn’t cause him too much grief. No matter how I tried, I knew it would come as a devastating shock, and I considered, and rejected, not telling him.

I felt a draught, so I opened my eyes just as John opened the shower door. He too was naked.

“May I join you?” he asked, gently.

I reached out a hand and took his arm, stepping back as I pulled him in with me. He wrapped his arms around me and we kissed. I felt his penis stirring against my belly, so my knees almost turned to jelly. I had one hand behind his head and the other up in the small of his back. He really was a big man, as the top of his head was almost touching the showerhead.

I felt his hand caress the cheeks of my bum, while the other just held me close to him. I had often fantasised what it would feel like to be loved by a man, but the reality was so much better!

His penis was erect now, so I pressed myself as tightly against him as I could get. I felt myself become very aroused, and I ached with desire for him. I let my right hand drop and I held his penis. It was so hard and warm; I felt a tingle of anticipation. I wanted him inside me so much, as it was the single most important thing in my life at this moment. I had a momentary panic, as he was so big, I wondered if my new vaginal channel would be able to accommodate him.

He turned the water off and led me to my bed. He took two big towels off the towel rail and spread them onto the counterpane, while I slipped some lubricant where it mattered. I lay on the bed and opened my legs, pulling him on top of me. He kissed my breasts, as my nipples hardened under his caresses. His tongue danced from nipple to nipple, so I grabbed his head and kissed him desperately, I just wanted him to make love me.

He knelt between my legs and placed his hand gently on my vagina, caressing my clitoris until I no longer had to worry about whether or not I could achieve orgasm. I came, shuddering and squirming under his touch.

“I think I may be ready for you now,” I said.

He smiled and kissed me, sliding his penis where I so wanted it. He thrust it as far as it would go, right up to the hilt. As I felt his pubic hair rub against my clitoris, I gasped with pleasure. He started to make love to me slowly and ever so tenderly. I was in another world as he thrust and retracted slowly to start with, becoming faster and faster. I moved with him, and once we had the rhythm, it was as if we became one entity. I stroked his head, running my hands down his powerful, broad back, feeling the muscles ripple under his tanned skin. I wrapped my legs around him, as he pounded into me, faster and faster, deeper and deeper!

I felt myself coming again, so was almost screaming with breathless pleasure, I know I dug my nails into him as I climaxed, and he grabbed my bum, but just kept going faster.

His breath was coming faster now and he began to grunt with pleasure too. I managed to get my hand between his legs, and caressed his balls. He suddenly thrust deep inside me, giving an almighty shudder as he exploded his seed deep within me as I came for the third time, just at the same moment.
 
 
He seemed to collapse on top of me, so I just held him. I felt his penis shrink, and the sensations of this, together with the flow of combined juices almost brought me to a fourth orgasm.

He rolled off me and we lay on the towels, damp from the shower and from our mingled sweat. He propped himself on one elbow and reached out a hand and brushed the hair from my face.

“My God, you're beautiful,” he said. I took hold of his hand and kissed it.

“So are you,” I said, and for some reason started to cry.

He frowned, touching my tears with a finger.

“Dee, honey, what's the matter? I thought you wanted to.”

“Oh John. I did. It was the most wonderful thing that has happened to me for a very long time. It’s not anything you did. It’s me,” I said.

“You?” he said, as he stroked my hair.

“Yes me. I really wanted you, and I am so happy, but before we can go any further, there is something I have to tell you,” I said. I knew that I would have to tell him now. It wouldn’t be fair to him other wise.

“Look, John. What I am going to tell you will change the way you feel about me. I accept that. All I ask is that you don’t hate me too much. You see, I love you, and the last thing I want to do is hurt you. If I tell you, you may be hurt, but only a little, for you perhaps will be able to forget me. But if I don’t tell you and you find out later, the hurt will be so deep as to destroy both of us,” I told him. I was crying now, and he looked lost.

“Oh shit, this is so hard,” I said. I got off the bed and put on my robe.

I sat down on the stool by my dressing table.

“John, I was born on the 27th March 1956. I was named David John Adam Cartwright. I was born a male. The picture above the fireplace is of a wonderful woman, her name, when she died, a little over a year and a half ago, was Delia Cartwright, she was not my mother, as you assumed, but my wife. I was a transsexual, I have not always been what you see me as today.”

I just managed to complete my speech, before the emotion became too much, and I completely broke down. My chest heaving with sobs, I saw his shocked expression, and just managed to mutter, “Oh God, John, I am so sorry, please forgive me,” before I ran from the room and out of the house.

I didn’t know where I was going, but I just knew that I had to go away. I wanted to die, as I had found something so wonderful, and then immediately lost it. All because I didn’t want to live a lie!
 
 
I ran across the lawn in my bare feet and through the little gate into the meadow. I ran through the long grass, down to the river at the bottom. The rain was heavy now, but I was oblivious to everything.

I threw myself into the grass on the bank of the river, where I just wanted the earth to open and swallow me up.
 
 
Chapter 6
 
 
John
 
I sat on Dee’s bed, totally numb. When she said she wanted to tell me something, never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined that it would have been that.

I don’t know how long I sat there, but once the shock wore off, I took a long hard look at myself and the situation we had gotten ourselves into. I initially felt tricked and betrayed. However, I then tried to analyse my feelings. It wasn’t she had pretended to be something she wasn’t, and she certainly hadn’t deliberately tricked me. I had followed my emotions, as she had, and it had led to us making love out of a mutual need.

I thought back, recalling several occasions where she had tried to tell me something, and then there was the ride and the sex. As I thought back, I realised that I’d been blind. She’d wanted to tell me, but I hadn’t allowed her to. I’d been so wrapped up in my own feelings, that I had never considered hers.

I thought about the sex. I realised that she was definitely a woman, as there was nothing the slightest bit male about her. I shook my head. This was all too much. I put on my jeans and shirt and slung on my boots. I went down stairs, but she had gone.

I looked in the kitchen and then I walked through the house. I saw the picture on the wall. I had assumed it to be of her mother, but now I knew who the woman was. I remembered that Dee had never once mentioned her husband, or a man’s name. I had just assumed. I smiled, how many young cops had I told never to assume anything?

I went back to her bedroom and sat on her bed, where I had recently had the most wonderful sexual experience. I could still smell her perfume, and I noticed a small journal on the bedside table. I picked it up. Feeling a real heel, I opened it to the most current entry, written the previous evening.
 
 

The two Americans are nice, John particularly. I find him gorgeous! He makes me laugh, despite being still in deep grief over his wife. Oh, how I ache to tell him the truth, but I can’t. I know if I do there is a danger he will go away, and I will lose him. He cried on me, as we share so much pain. I love being with him, and I would love to get closer, but I am so afraid. I lie here half wanting him to come into my room and make love to me. But if he does I will have to tell him. It won’t be fair to him, and I could never live a lie! Oh why was I ever born? I can’t be a man, yet I can’t even get being a woman right! I am destined to grow old a lonely and bitter woman! I hope tomorrow is a good day. I feel like a girl on her first date - I am a girl on my first date! Oh, how I hope I don’t have to tell him! If only I could tell him, and he would say- “I don’t care, I love you for who you are, and not who or what you were!” Fat chance! I think I love him! Oh God, what do I do? Delia, why did you have to die?

 
 
I thought about the woman I had fallen for, realising with some surprise that nothing had really changed. Had she not told me, I would still be her lover, and who knows what else would have developed. No one would have been any the wiser, and we could have grown old very content. Yet, it was her honesty and goodness that had made her tell me. I respected her for that. Hell, I even loved her a little more for it.

If I was confused and hurt, how much worse would it be for her?
 
 
I looked out of the window and saw it was still raining. I started to worry about her now. Would she try something foolish?

I thought not, but I knew she was hurting and that I needed to stop that hurt, if I could, we could talk through the hurt and confusion once I knew she was safe.

I went downstairs and followed the route I thought I had seen her take. I went through her garden and out of a little gate into the meadow. There were the marks in the long grass where she had run, so I followed. She had run a long way, but I found her lying in the grass by a small river. She was sobbing, real big sobs, and wailing. Her robe was open so she was soaked to the skin, as I was.

I sat in the grass beside her. She was lying face down, not even aware that I was there.

I sat and watched her. She was beautiful, even though she was crying. I tried to see anything of the male in her, but just couldn’t. She was all-woman; from the top of her head, to her dainty painted toes. Her figure was an hourglass that went in and out in all the right places. Many a thirty-year old would have been happy with her muscle tone, complexion, skin and figure. Her breasts were perfectly formed, and as natural as any I had had the pleasure of seeing or touching. As for her lower regions, I could vouch for everything working perfectly there too.

I just saw a hurting girl, who needed me as much as I needed her.
 
 
I placed a hand on her shoulder, but she tried to shake me away.

“Hey, Honey,” I said. She still sobbed.

“Dee, listen to me. You’ve had your say, now hear me out,” I said, quite firmly.

“Oh John, I’m so sorry,” she said, but the tears just flowed.

“Dee, listen. I don’t care. Do you hear me? I really don’t care, I heard what you said, and I understand it all. But I love you for who you are, I don’t give a damn who or what you were. I love you as you are, with no conditions and no strings!”

The sobs subsided, as she rolled over and stared at me.

“What did you say?” she sort of whispered, incredulity in her voice.

“I love you Dee,” I said. “I love you as the person I met, not someone I never knew.”

She looked at me with a strange expression on her face.

“But how can you?” she asked, the incredulity still in her voice.

“Because I do,” I said.

“But you know what I was!”

“No, I don’t, not really, but so what? I just know what you are! I have just made love to a beautiful woman, and I happen to love and respect that woman. And, to me, right now, that is all that matters.”

I held my arms open to her and she literally flung herself into them, sobbing even harder. This time I knew the sobs were of relief and joy.

“Hey, Honey?”

“Mmmm?”

“I really like England and all, but do we really have to sit out here, in the wet, all day?”

She started to giggle and she looked at me. Even though I had seen her looking better than this, I knew that I still loved her, no conditions and no strings.

I kissed her and she stroked my face.

“I don’t deserve you,” she said.

“You deserve some happiness. Hell, even I deserve some happiness. What do you say we try to give each other some?” I asked, and she nodded.

“With all my heart,” she said.

“And, honey, no one else ever need know. I would never have guessed, so no one else will. Let’s just take things as far as we want to. Okay?”

She nodded. I stood up and helped her to her feet. We walked slowly back to the house. I took her upstairs and stripped the wet robe off her. I started the shower in her bathroom and placed her in the shower. I stripped off and joined her again.

She just clung to me, as the hot water streamed off us. I felt myself becoming aroused again and she got out. We wrapped ourselves in fresh towels and she sat on her bed.

She looked up at me, looking miserable and very vulnerable. Her towel fell open, so I sat beside her and helped her dry off. I kissed her, and she fell back onto the bed. We lay together in her bed, just enjoying holding each other close.

“Let me just say one thing. You are most definitely one hundred percent female,” I said.

She grinned and snuggled in close to me.

“I hoped and prayed that you would come to me, I so wanted you to say that you didn’t care. I couldn’t have gone on without telling you the truth,” she said.

“Look, Dee, I know how hard it was for you to tell me. I just wanted you to know that I respect you so much for telling me. It made me realise what a special kind of person you had to be. To risk being miserable just so I was not deceived at all.”

“Oh, John, I couldn’t go into any relationship without everything being open and honest. I just couldn’t do it. Even if you go back to the States in a couple of weeks and we never see each other ever again. I will know that the time we have together is not false,” she said.

“Okay, we got over that, so where do we go from here?” I asked.

“I don’t care, ten days with you is more than I ever dreamed possible. I’ll not make any demands on you at all,” she said, and I suddenly felt so tender towards her.

“You’ve had a real bum deal out of life.”

“Not any more, you’re my ace,” she said.

We heard the sound of a car on gravel. Ed had arrived back.

“What do we do?” I asked.

“Shut the door and come back to bed,” she said. Her confidence was returning.
 
 
As it happened, we didn’t go back to bed. She changed into a white dress. I slung on a dry shirt and another pair of jeans. We went down stairs and found Ed spreading documents all over the dining room table.

Dee put our wet clothes into the dryer, and went back up stairs to dry her hair and put some makeup on.

“Get wet, Big Jay?” Ed asked.

“Yeah, we were just caught out and got soaked. But we had a real good ride. What you got there?”

“This is the family tree of the Collingwoods. I found old Eileen Collingwood and she had the whole lot in her old family Bible. Henry had three brothers and four sisters. She had all the details of all the brothers and sisters and their families. I was able to fill in the American side, and she was real interested. We can now trace the family back to 1420. Isn’t this exciting?” Ed said.

Dee came in looking radiant, but giving no hint of the trauma she had gone through. I began to see that I had been right, she was a strong person, albeit with vulnerabilities.

She came over to me and gently rested her hand on my arm. I got the message. She wanted Ed to know how the land lay, so I put my arm around her and kissed her. I thought Ed’s jaw would hit the floor.

“Do you want lunch here, or shall we go to have lunch out. I thought that we could have a look round Corfe this afternoon, what do you chaps want to do?” she said.

“I have to meet the Rector at two. He's letting me have a look at the parish records. I may be able to fill in some of the gaps,” said Ed.

“Well, let’s eat here. John and I will go to Corfe later. I’ll get some lunch out. I hope cold snacks are okay, it’s all I’ve got,” she said, going into the kitchen.

Ed was quick, “Hey buddy boy, so you and Dee are an item?” he said.

“Something like that,” I said.

“I thought that might happen. I have to admit to being surprised at the speed, but I’m pleased for you, she’s just what you need.”

“Yeah, I guess she is at that,” I said, smiling.
 
 
We sat in the kitchen and had some fresh rolls with ham and cheese. She had some lettuce and tomatoes from the garden, with fresh raspberries with cream to follow. Washed down by some beer, it was a veritable feast.

Ed scuttled off to meet his Rector friend, so Dee drove us to Corfe. It had stopped raining, so we went and had a look around the ruined castle. Dee was rather subdued, having lost some of her earlier sparkle. We looked around the shops, and came to a small gemstone shop.

I noticed a pair of pendant earrings in the window. They were blue, the exact same blue as her eyes. So I dragged her into the store and bought them for her.

They were beautiful and matched her eyes perfectly.

“I can’t take these, John. They are far too expensive,” she said.

“Dee. You have made us welcome in your home, you have fed us and become our friend. These are a poor token of the value of what you have done for us. Not least the love you give me,” I said.

She almost started to cry, so I paid and we left. As we walked down the street, I caught her admiring the earrings in shop windows. She grinned, and I saw that some of her sparkle had returned.
 
 
Ed and I took her out for a meal that evening. Ed drove us to the town of Swanage to a small restaurant that specialised in seafood, and being from a part of Arizona that is about as far from the ocean as you can get, I had to confess that my knowledge of fresh seafood was limited. Ed was a keen fisherman, as he and some buddies would go off for a weeks fishing, but nothing prepared us for the meal we had.

We had a huge bowl of fresh mussels cooked in their shells in a wine and herb stock to start, followed by sea bass and salmon en croute (in pastry), and then a bramble sorbet, that slid down real nice at the end. We had a bottle of chilled white wine, while Ed stuck to his beer. Dee wore a very elegant black dress, and I noticed she was wearing her new earrings. She looked beautiful, and I kept looking to see any hint of the person she said used to be. I just couldn’t see anything other than an elegant, sophisticated lady, whom I now knew I loved dearly.

Ed was single minded about his quest and, frankly, he was beginning to bore the pants off me. Dee was charming with him, actually managing to sound interested when she asked him questions.

But the food was so good, that even Ed shut up while we ate. I had never eaten mussels before. It was interesting, as the ‘liquor’ at the bottom of the bowl was almost the best part.
 
 
Three hours later, we left the restaurant, feeling well fed and relaxed. Dee took us along the front, where there was a beach. She took her shoes off and paddled in the gently lapping water. I was nice walking along the beach, in the cool of the evening.

I saw a group of young men messing about near an ice cream kiosk, a couple of hundred yards away. They were clearly under the influence, and were shouting and being what drunk young men often managed to be, a real pain is the ass.

A single English Bobby, with his high helmet and bright yellow florescent jacket walked towards them. One man, deciding that alcohol made him very brave, started to swear at the officer. One of his friends started to try to drag him away, but the game had started.

I walked towards the group, I heard Ed telling Dee that he would go get the car.

One of the men knocked the officer’s helmet off, so the officer grabbed the man, obviously attempting to arrest him. The other two then tried to pull their friend free. There was a lot of shouting and swearing, and the officer, who appeared very young, looked increasingly concerned. Every time he tried to talk into his personal radio, the men grabbed it off him.
 
 
I approached the group, slowly. I saw the man the officer was now holding, try to punch the officer, while the others continued to try to pull him free.

I walked over and said to the Constable, “I’m an off-duty officer, it looks like you need some assistance.”

I turned to the two men who were still trying to free their colleague.

“You two, back off, or you will be arrested. Do it NOW!” I shouted, and moved towards them.

They looked startled, so for a moment let go of their friend.

“Okay officer, get your man out of here,” I said to the constable.

“You two, stand very still, because interfering with an arrest will get you both busted,” I said, and they stood looking warily at me.
 
 
The officer called for back up, then he handcuffed the man he had arrested.

The other two looked at their friend, now on his knees with handcuffs on. Then they saw a blue light on a rapidly approaching police vehicle.

“Now, go home, sober up and thank your lucky stars that it ain’t you in the handcuffs,” I said. After a moment’s uncertain hesitation, they turned and walked away.

“You okay?” I asked the young Bobby.

“Thanks. You are American, aren’t you?” he said.

“Good guess. I'm Chief John Collingwood of the Midhurst Police Department, Arizona,” I said, producing my I.D. and badge.

“Chief? Shit! I mean, thanks very much for your help, sir,” he stammered.

“No problem. It was a pleasure. I couldn’t let you get the shit kicked out of you, now could I?”

A police van arrived and two officers got out. They helped the young drunk into the back. I noticed that Dee had come over, grinning at me.

“You just can’t resist being a hero, can you? Save a damsel in distress in the morning, and then swoop to the aid of the constabulary in the evening,” she said.

“Back home on Krypton, I’m just another weakling,” I said, grinning. Dee kissed me.

“What was that for?”

“For being you. For seeing and doing the right thing,” she said.

“Excuse me, sir?” the young officer interjected.

“Yeah?”

“Sir, did you see any of the incident?”

“Yeah, I saw the guy you arrested knock your helmet off and call you a fucking dickhead,” I said.

He grinned, “Is it possible you could make a statement to that effect?” he asked.

“Sure. When, now?”

“It would probably be easier, unless you are staying nearby?”

I looked at Dee.

“Do it now. It will be over and done with then,” she said.

“If you and your wife want, we can give you a lift to the station,” the officer said, just as Ed arrived in the Mercedes.

Dee smiled at me, but made no attempt to correct the officer’s mistaken assumption. We were both old enough to be his parents, and we were both wearing wedding rings.
 
 
We followed the police van to the station, and it only took ten minutes. The senior officer at the station was a female Inspector, the equivalent to a Lieutenant in the US, called Caroline Mercer. Caroline showed me round the station, and gave me a spare helmet plate from the Dorset Police. I promised to send her some patches after I got home and gave her my card. I explained that I was only going to be in the country for a couple of weeks. She said that if he didn’t plead guilty, she would be very surprised. But in any event, she didn’t think that I’d be required for court.

Ed drove us back to Hutchings Cottage, where Dee offered us a nightcap. She gave me a single malt scotch and Ed, ever the cultured caveman, had another beer. I sat on the sofa, savouring the excellent Scotch.

Ed drank his beer and excused himself, as he told us he was setting off for Wales early the next morning. This came as news to me, as I had thought he was taking off at the weekend.

“How come? I thought you planned to go down there on Friday or Saturday,” I asked.

He grinned at me. “I called him today. It seems that there is a Beer Festival starting tomorrow, so I thought, what the hell, you don’t have one of them every day. So, as you guys are getting along so well, I thought I’d leave you to it,” he said.

“So when are you coming back?” Dee asked.

“I have no fixed plans. I have your number. I’ll call you this Sunday, to let you know what's going on and then, if necessary, the following week before we’re due to fly out. I’d like to come back for a couple of days, to tie up a couple of small loose ends on the family tree, but they aren’t vital. I've left the details of the pub on your hall table by the phone if you need to contact me.”

I looked at Dee and caught her smile.

“Anyway, goodnight folks, and thanks Dee, for making us so welcome,” Ed said.

“It’s a pleasure. What time are you getting up?” Dee said.

“Oh, early, around seven,” he replied.

“I’ll be up. I’ll get you some breakfast. John and I are going riding again at half past,” she told him.

“Oh, that would be good. Thanks. Well, goodnight,” he said, and went upstairs.

“Another whisky?” she asked me.

“No, but thanks. I must try to keep my intake down. I got rather familiar with old Mr Scotch recently,” I replied. It was amazing the secrets that I shared with her. I suppose in comparison to her secret, they were not that large, but still, she managed to get me to open up better than anyone else.
 
 
She came and sat next to me on the sofa, folding her legs up underneath her. I found myself constantly amazed at just how naturally feminine she was. I still could not quite believe that she could ever have been anything other than what she was now.

I put an arm around her shoulders and she snuggled in close to me.

“You make me feel so good,” she said.

“That’s because you are,” I said.

“Sarah tells me that somehow I managed to acquire all Delia’s grace,” she said. It was the first time she had mentioned her.

“How did your kids react when you told them?” I asked.

“Oh God, that was so hard. I gathered them in the drawing room in our old home and just came out with it. Delia, bless her, wrote them all a letter before she died. I don’t know what she wrote, but after I told them, I went outside and waited to see what happened. They all read their letters, and all have been wonderfully supportive. I’m very lucky,” she said.

“You have a habit of just coming out with it, and then going outside,” I said, with a smile.

She smiled, a rather sad smile I thought.

“I’m sorry. If you don’t want to talk about it, then…”

“No, John, I must. It helps. You see, I haven’t really spoken to anyone about her since I started on my great adventure. So like you, I have an awful lot bottled up inside,” she said.

“Did she know about you, I mean about your, um, er…” I didn’t quite have the words.

“She knew what I was long before we married. She was a saint, so for twenty-five years, I had a fully contented life. But when she died, I knew what I had to do,” she said.

“This is all a bit weird. Did you tell her, or did she just find out?”

“I told her. I couldn’t go into a relationship with that kind of secret, could I?” she said, smiling.

I smiled too. “Where have I heard that before? Your honesty is going to get you into trouble one day,” I told her.

“I know. I thought it had today,” she said, looking at me. “I thought I had frightened you away. It was almost too much, I wanted to die.”

I saw a tear start to well up in her eye.

“Hey, I told you, it’s over. No more secrets left now. We just look forward, not back, except for the good memories, so we help each other with coming to terms with the sad ones, okay, honey?” I said.

“Okay. I love the way you speak. No one ever called me ‘honey’ before. I like it,” she said.

“Good,” I said, kissing her. She returned the kiss very tenderly.

“I heard your brother call you Big Jay. What did Sally call you?”

“She called me Jay, or honey, or John, or who hasn’t wiped their feet?” I said, and she laughed.

“Would you rather I didn’t call you any of those?” she asked.

“Honey, you can call me what the hell you like, I got no problem with any of them,” I said.

“Well, I'm off to bed. We’ve got some riding to do tomorrow. I only hope the weather is nice. What do you fancy doing after the ride?”

“I don’t give a damn, as long as I’m with you,” I said, and she laughed again.

I stood up, taking my glass into the kitchen while she switched out the lights. I followed her upstairs. She opened her bedroom door and turned to face me.

“I don’t quite know how to say this,” she said.

I kissed her. “If you need company tonight, I’ll be happy to oblige, but if you want to be alone, I understand,” I said.

“I have to be honest, I don’t ever want to be alone again,” she said, so I kissed her again.

“I’ll get my things,” I said and went to my room and collected the tee shirt and shorts that I slept in. I picked up my wash and shaving kit, and went into her room. She was already in her bathroom, so I changed. She came out wearing a real pretty nightdress.

“All yours,” she said, with a lovely smile.
 
 
I went into the bathroom, peed, had a wash and cleaned my teeth. I came out and switched out the main light.

Her bed was a king size, with a cute awning above it, with material drapes hanging down at the head. There was a light each side, and the light on the right was on.

“Which side do you like?” she asked.

I had to think for a moment.

“I’m not fussy, I used to sleep on the left,” I said.

“Good, I used to sleep on the right,” she said, lifting up the duvet.

I got in and tried to relax. This was the first time I had got into bed with anyone since Sally died. It was going to take some getting used to.

Dee snuggled down and said, “Light!”

“Okay,” I said, so she turned it out.

I lay there a while. I could hear her breathing softly. Then she started to giggle.

I smiled. “Okay, what’s so funny?” I asked.

“Us. Aren’t we ridiculous?” she said.

“Why?”

“It has been so long since we shared a bed with anyone, we’re all stiff and tense,” she said, still chuckling.

“I know how to solve that,” I said.

“Oh, how?”

I reached for her, pulling her gently to me, I found her mouth in the dark and kissed her. Her hands were all over me, so it wasn’t long before I lost my shorts and tee shirt, she lost her nightdress and we were making love.
 
 
We then slept naked and relaxed, entwined with each other. We made love again before her alarm went off at seven, and then we made love again. I felt completely shattered, I was behaving like a teenager, but hadn’t the stamina.
 
 

*          *          *
 
End of Part 3
 
 
To Be Continued...

 
David buries his wife after she loses her fight against cancer. He is nearly 50, and their children are now grown up, so he breaks the news that he is going to undertake that which he wanted to do for as long as he could remember — a sex change. He had struggled with his transsexuality all his life, but his love for his wife and respect for her meant he just played the hand that he had been dealt, up to now, that is.

Meanwhile, in the USA, grizzled Police Chief John Collingwood comes to near breaking point. Stressed from his job, his grief over his dead wife, and the despair of near alcoholism, he embarks on a trip to the UK with his brother to seek out his family tree.

Two very different people find a very different future, they also find each other...

but will it work?

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Tanya has a new website where she will display her latest works first and then to BigCloset TopShelf a few weeks later is here at Tanya Allan's Tales .
Tanya's Book Shop where she is selling her works in book form is at http://tanyaallan.authorshaunt.com/shop.php . Please Visit!

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The Legal Stuff: A Girl Can But Dream  © 2006,2009,2010 Tanya Allan
 
This work is the property of the author, and the author retains full copyright, in relation to printed material, whether on paper or electronically. Any adaptation of the whole or part of the material for broadcast by radio, TV, or for stage plays or film, is the right of the author unless negotiated through legal contract. Permission is granted for it to be copied and read by individuals, and for no other purpose. Any commercial use by anyone other than the author is strictly prohibited, and may only be posted to free sites with the express permission of the author.
 
This work is fictitious, and any similarities to any persons, alive or dead, are purely coincidental. Mention is made of persons in public life only for the purposes of realism, and for that reason alone. Certain licence is taken in respect of medical procedures, terms and conditions, and the author does not claim to be the fount of all knowledge.
 
The author accepts the right of the individual to hold his/her (or whatever) own political, religious and social views, and there is no intention to deliberately offend anyone. If you wish to take offence, that is your problem.
 
This is only a story, and it contains adult material, which includes sex and intimate descriptive details pertaining to genitalia. If this is likely to offend, then don’t read it.
 
Please enjoy.
Tanya
 
 

 
 
 
Chapter 7
 
 
Dee
 
I was in heaven!

My dream had become a reality. Not only did he tell me that he didn’t care about what I had been, but it was almost word for word from my journal. I thought at first he was just being kind, but after we made love when my alarm went off, I knew that he would have to be the kindest man in the world to make love four times and then come riding with me.

Ed saw us both coming out of the same room and his eyes said it all. After I cooked them both a decent breakfast, and we’d waved Ed off in the hire car, John and I went to the stables again. We spent the morning exploring the local countryside on horseback. The weather looked as if it could go either way, but at about ten, the clouds cleared and the sun came out.

We were back home by eleven-thirty. I can’t remember feeling quite so elated over life, ever. There were times when I remembered feeling close to what I felt now, such as the birth of our children, and many moments within our marriage. The feeling of total contentment I now experienced came from deep within the centre of my being. At its core was the fact that I was a woman, so everything, for the first time in my life, seemed to hinge of that one piece of perfection.

I kept having to mentally pinch myself, as I was not only in love with a wonderful man, but he loved me back, in the full knowledge of my past, and despite it. In all my dreams of what life could possibly have in store for me, I never dared hope that this would be a possible scenario, and certainly not within such a short space of time.
 
 
It was a glorious day, which just added to my feeling of euphoria. We went upstairs, and I was changing out of my riding clothes when he came at me from behind. He made love to me as I was undressing, I had never experienced sex from behind and I found it incredibly erotic! There was something animalistic about it, as with the smell of the horses mingled with our own sweaty bodies - I admit that I became rather passionate.

Having achieved a near- orgasm in this position, I slipped out of his clutches, pushed him onto his back and I mounted him. I let him slide back inside me again, with me on top. I rode him very hard and I was much happier seeing him face to face. He was able to kiss and play with my breasts, and I lost myself in the wonder of the moment.

Finally, he arched his back, almost throwing me off as he came. I fancied I felt his semen spurting inside me. I think that I came with him, and we just held one another as we relaxed. After many minutes, we went and showered. I just wanted him to hold me all day. I felt so safe and warm when he held me.

"Now what are we going to do?" I asked, as we dried each other off.

He smiled, "To be honest, I don’t really care, as long as we're together," he said.

"We could go to the beach for a picnic," I suggested, which he thought that was a fine idea.
 
 
The days flew past. Each was better than the last, as John and I grew together in a very deep and loving way. I was conscious that he kept comparing me to Sally, even though he told me he wasn’t. In that respect, I was fortunate, as the difference in my circumstances were so great to make it all new and fresh for me. We also talked about those things I never dreamed I would talk about. Although he didn’t want to know much about my previous existence, he was a pragmatist, realising the potential problems should my past become known. He wanted to know, while at the same time didn't. I understood completely.

We talked through how he felt about me, and how I felt about myself. He was having difficulty coming to terms with who I had been, but had no difficulty with who I was now. I was content to have a man love me for a short time. If he was going to walk out of my life, then I was content, for he had given me more than I ever expected!

However, with only a few days to go, we were lying in bed one morning, having made slow and very sensuous love. Enjoying the sun stream through the window, as we just enjoyed that feeling of relaxed euphoria in each other’s arms.

He turned to me and stroked my shoulder.

"Dee?"

"Hmm?"

"Come back with me."

"I’d love to."

"No, I mean it. Fly back with me when I go."

"I can’t, I have a meeting with my publisher, and there is the exhibition of paintings."

"I just want you with me."

"So do I, but life goes on."

"Look, I could take another week off!"

"And then we’d just face the same problem in a week’s time."

He was quiet for a while. "You’d love the ranch."

"I’m sure I would, so I will come as soon as I can."

"I don’t want this vacation to end."

"All good things come to an end, eventually."

He fell silent again. In my philosophical way I sensed I had touched a nerve, and guessed why. We'd both experienced the end of something wonderful, a fact that neither of us could or would forget.

"Sally said that didn’t she?" I asked and he nodded.

"I’m sorry, that was insensitive of me," I said.

"Don’t be silly, you're one of the most sensitive people I've ever met. I was just reflecting, this is the first time I've thought of Sal in over four days."

"Is that good?"

"I guess. Not so much good, as encouraging. I don’t know about you, but I couldn’t go through a day without thinking about her for most of the time. Work helped, as when I was busy I managed to go longer, but every thought brought home the pain of loss."

I gave him a squeeze.

"I was the same, but somehow, I sense she is happy for me now," I said.

"I don’t want to lose you," he said.

"Why should you?"

"I don’t know, it’s just a heck of a long way across the Atlantic Ocean."

It was my time to fall silent. I realised that the publisher could be put off, and I didn’t actually have to be around for the exhibition, as they already had the items to exhibit. I formed a germ of an idea and smiled.

"So, when is your brother picking you up?"

"He said he would be here the day after tomorrow at about five. We’ll spend the following day with you, and then off the next day. We’re booked on the midday flight from Heathrow Terminal Three on a United Airlines flight. So how long will it take to get to Heathrow from here?"

"You want to leave at about seven in the morning, give yourself two hours to get there, with a bit for bad traffic, so then you’ll have plenty of time to relax before the flight."

"Well, that’s when we’ll go."

I was quiet, but my mind was very busy. He took it that I was sad and gave me a cuddle.

"Hey, just come on out as soon as you can."

"Oh, I will, I certainly will."
 
 
We spent the day quietly at home. He helped me with some odd jobs. I watched him as he replaced some fencing down in the long grass by the gate to the meadow. He saw me looking at him, and he stopped and smiled.

"Okay, what are you thinking?" he asked.

"I’ll miss you. I’ve got used to having you around."

"I like being around you."

"Thank you for being here. I don’t remember ever being quite so happy."

He put down the sledgehammer and came over to me, wrapping his large arms around me. He smelled of sweat and power. It was faintly erotic.

"When I came to your country, I was on the verge of alcoholism and a breakdown. I was miserable and like a bear with a sore head. Now, I'm like a kid again, in love with a beautiful girl."

"Hardly a girl."

"Don’t fool yourself. Age is not an issue here. You’re a girl and I’m a boy, so forget the wrinkles and aching joints."

I laughed and he kissed me. I ached just then, but not my joints. My soul ached, as I just wanted him so much. He seemed to sense it, so before I knew what happened, we were lying in the long grass and my dress was off. He made such wonderful love to me that I felt that I wanted to die. I knew that life could only get worse, so if I died now, then I wouldn’t have to go through the pains of old age, bereavement and death.

We lay naked in the grass, with the smell of summer all around us. The insects were chattering and the birds were singing.

"Marry me, Dee?" he said, completely out of the blue. It was so unexpected that I started to cry.

"If only I could," I said. "It's against the law in this country for transsexuals to marry."

"Then marry me in the States, it's legal in some states."

"I’d love to, but I'm conscious of the potential scandal for you if my past got out."

"Dee, I don’t care; if you don’t."

"It wouldn’t do your public credibility any good."

"You can shove my public credibility. I want you for my wife!"

"Oh John!" I wept as the emotion just became too much.

"Dee, please?"

"On one condition."

"Go on."

"We wait until after you retire as Chief of Police."

"Is that really what you want?"

"No, but I can’t damage you then."

"So it makes a difference being my mistress or fiancé, does it?" he observed, laughing at my naivety.

I could no longer find an argument, so was quiet.

"Dee?"

"Of course I’ll marry you. But I just want what is best for you."

"Having you as my wife is the best for me," he said with a grin.

"But, John, if the press get hold of it, your life could be made a living hell."

"Then we don’t tell anyone."

"You know that these things always get out."

"Why should it? Unless we want them to know?"

"Well, if you are sure?"

"I've never been as sure of anything in my life. Look, honey, don’t see you as anything other than a beautiful woman, whom I love dearly. Okay, had I known about your past before I got to know you things may have been different, but I doubt it. I fell in love with the woman I see, so then will everyone else. It's not like we're in the flush of youth, or in the public eye. Hell, you've a grandkid, for Pete's sakes!"

We left it at that, I agreed to be his wife, but we set no time schedule to it. We both had things to sort out, so we both knew that if the time we spent apart changed things then neither of us had lost anything. I wanted to be his wife more than anything else, but I was still terrified of bringing any embarrassment or scandal on him. I also had got used to the peace and security of being me in a very quiet neck of the woods, so I was a little apprehensive at change.

Although the prospect of his departure threatened to cast a small shadow over everything, we didn’t have time to let it bother us. Sarah phoned and asked if I minded if she came down for a couple of days, as she was on her own again. Charles was in Brussels at another conference, and Amy was draining the poor girl.

She sounded tired on the phone, so I didn’t even try to explain about my change in circumstances.

"Of course, darling, come down for a couple of days. You know I’m always happy to see my granddaughter."

"Thanks, I just need some space. I’ll be there for lunch."

John looked at me.

"Didn’t you tell her?"

"I didn’t have the words. It’ll be better in person," I said, willing it would be so,

Sarah arrived in time for lunch, so I went out to the car as she pulled onto the gravel. I hadn’t seen little Amy for a few weeks, and she had grown even in that short length of time. I took her from Sarah, and the little girl gave me an enormous smile.

John came out and watched from a few yards away. Sarah looked at him and then at me, one eyebrow arched.

"Heck, there’s no doubt who’s daughter you are!" said John.

"Sarah, this is John Collingwood. John has been staying with me for a couple of weeks. John, this is my daughter, Sarah, and granddaughter, Amy."

"Hello Sarah. It is real nice to meet you at last, your M…, Dee has told me so much about you," John said. Sarah smiled, giving me another strange look.

"Sarah, let’s go inside. I’ve actually got quite a bit to talk to you about," I said, so we went into the sitting room.

"Do you want me, as well?" John asked.

As I took his hand, I thought that Sarah’s eyebrows were about to take off!

"Of course, my love, I think it best you stay," I said.

"Look, why don’t I put a kettle on and then come back in a couple of minutes?" he said, leaving us alone.

I turned to Sarah. "Sarah, John has asked me to marry him, and I agreed."

She stared at me, blinking once, and then looked at the kitchen door.

"Ah, um, are you sure this is, ah, wise?" she asked. "I mean, have you thought this thing through?"

I smiled and shook my head.

"No, it isn’t wise, but I love the man, so I’m about as sure as I can be that he loves me."

"What about,… you know?"

"You mean who I was?"

She nodded.

"He knows."

"You told him? When?"

"After we’d made love the first time. I couldn’t keep it from him after that, could I?"

Sarah’s jaw dropped.

"You…and him…you’ve, ..you know, …done it?"

I smiled and nodded.

"Shit, Dee, that was quick!"

"Oh, and just how long was I supposed to wait? At my age, eligible men don’t come past my gate every week!"

I told her how we’d met, with a short history of our time together. She ended up smiling, with a tear in her eye.

"Oh, Dee, it is so you! You must be one of the most romantic people I know," she said, and was giving me a hug as John came back.

"Is it safe?" he asked with a smile.

Sarah stood up and gave him a hug too.

"Congratulations, you're absolutely mad, both of you. You realise that, don’t you?" she said.

John looked at me and smiled.

"Yeah, but, hey, you only live once!"

We enjoyed being together and spent a very lovely day being incredibly domesticated. John barbequed some steaks for lunch, as he told us that he wanted to show us how to eat properly. I looked after little Amy while Sarah relaxed and grilled my future husband about his prospects and intentions!
 
 
The next day he wanted to buy some gifts for the folks back home, and he said he needed a haircut. I didn’t see it, as his hair was pretty short in any case, but we drove into Swanage for him to achieve his set objectives.

While he was in the barbers, Sarah and I popped into the travel agent. I enquired about any flights to Phoenix on the following day, and discovered that a BA flight took off from Heathrow Terminal Four an hour before John’s United Airlines one. (Terminal Five was still being built) Pausing for only a second, I booked a first class seat on the BA flight, on an open-ended ticket, paying by credit card. Such is the system of ticketless flights, I was told that the ticket would be waiting for me at the check in. I was then asked if I needed a hire car, so I smiled and said that I didn’t.

Sarah thought it was typical of me, the last romantic, and chuckled dreadfully when we went to meet up with John again.

"Stop it, as you’ll give the game away!" I told her, so she reduced the chuckle to a permanent grin.

I met John as he came out of the barbers, having to fight hard to stop grinning inanely as well. We wandered around the shops, where he bought various terrible presents for people. The sort of things that you don’t think anyone would ever buy because no one in their right minds would ever have the courage or stupidity to display them for anyone to see.

I had to pop to the bank, so was able to buy some US Dollars. I thought that the credit cards would be fine for most things, but a little cash would come in handy.

We had lunch on the beach, just some fish and chips from the paper, and an ice cream. We paddled in the water, which was chilling off as September was coming to a close. Sarah sat on the wall, watching John and I hold Amy just so she could dabble her toes in the water. She loved it and kicked her legs, squealing with delight.

As we walked back through the town to the car, we passed a little jeweller’s shop. He stopped and pointed to a lovely little ring. It was a diamond surrounded in sapphires on a white gold mount.

"Do you like that?" he asked.

"It’s very pretty."

He led me into the shop and asked to see it. The assistant took it from the window and gave it to John. He took it, examined it closely, then he took my left hand and slipped it onto my ring finger. I had taken my old wedding ring off now, as it didn’t seem right anymore.

It fitted, so he smiled. "I’d like to have given you the one that I gave Sally, but somehow I feel we should start afresh. Now you gotta marry me," he said.

He paid the assistant, while I found myself on the verge of tears again. Silently I cursed the new hormones I had in my body. I had an implant in my thigh, which released the correct levels of oestrogen into my system over a six-month period. I blamed my emotional state squarely on them.

I kissed him and we left, with his arm around my shoulders. I felt about sixteen. I had thought yesterday that I could never be so happy, but I had been mistaken. Sarah had a silly smile on her face, which, I think, mirrored mine.

Sarah gave Amy her last feed and we put her to bed. We had a lovely evening in. I cooked crepes, with a savoury filling for entree, and with maple syrup and cream for dessert.

Sarah went to bed early, so John and I curled up on the sofa watching some inane movie.
 
 
The next morning saw John and I off riding early again. Sarah was up with the baby, and seemed content flopping about in her dressing gown. The weather was cooler, so we rode hard. It was a crisp clear morning, as autumn was approaching now. The views were amazing, so as we paused at the top of the hill, the world seemed to belong to us.

After our shower, John and I took Amy for a drive, allowing Sarah to have a stress free morning. She went back to bed, while we went to Wareham.

It felt odd pushing a pushchair again. Particularly as this time, I was the woman, and my new love was this handsome man beside me. We stopped at a café and had some coffee. The lady who served us smiled indulgently at the baby.

"She’s lovely. Yours?" she asked, to which I laughed.

"Heavens, no, my daughter’s, but thanks for thinking she could be!" I said.

We ordered our coffees, and John was smiling at me.

"You look young enough!" he said.

"Not you too?" I said, but was so pleased.
 
 
I drove back to the house, with Ed arrived shortly after we did. He became aware that his brother had changed since he had last seen him, so John told him that we were engaged. He was shocked at the speed at which events had occurred, but he seemed genuinely pleased that he had at last found someone to share his life.

I introduced Sarah to Ed, and put together a light lunch.

"You look just like your mom," Ed said to Sarah.

"Thanks, everyone says that," she replied and looked at me, as if to say, ‘so, you never told the brother, then?’

We went out for a final meal at the pub, and had an early bed. Neither of us slept much. John was feeling sad that he was leaving, and I was excited at the prospect of surprising him at Phoenix Airport. Our lovemaking was almost desperate and our passion was matched by our profound and deep love.

We clung to each other for a long time and fell asleep in each other’s arms. Although, as usual, we ended up on opposite sides of the bed and not touching at all.
 
 
My alarm went off at six. I was up and downstairs cooking breakfast for the boys while John packed. Sarah appeared, having been woken by Amy.

"So, do you want me to lock up after you’ve gone, or what?" she asked.

"Could you? That would be super."

"How long are you going for?"

"I haven’t a clue. It may all turn into a disaster, so I could well be back on the first flight home."

She smiled. "No. I suspect that you've found the one in a million there. He adores you. Don’t you realise how special he is? With all your baggage, he still worships the ground you walk on. Dee, you have no idea how rare someone like that is!"

I smiled, giving her a hug.

"Oh, Sarah, I know exactly how special he is. But, there are his daughters, his mother and everything else to take into account."

Our conversation ended as the brothers appeared.
 
 
The mood was sombre, so I dressed and packed as they ate breakfast. I had managed to pack most of my stuff the previous evening, when Ed was showing his brother the photographs of this time in Wales.

We had a rather sad farewell, as I tried to look as miserable as I could. I even managed to squeeze a tear out just for good measure. I waved them off, just as my taxi arrived to take me to Heathrow too. I raced against the clock to get my stuff into the taxi and on the road myself. I had phoned my publisher, so that meeting was on hold. The gallery understood that I had family crisis, so would not be present at the exhibition. I think they were quite pleased, as clucking artists must be the bane of their lives.

We overtook them long before we got to Ringwood, reaching Heathrow in good time. I was flying from a different Terminal, so we would not meet. My flight took off just as John and Ed were probably going to the departure gate. I settled down and relaxed, with a huge smile firmly fixed on my face.

I had flown a lot as David, but never as Dee, but found myself enjoying the flight immensely. The prospect of standing at the arrivals channel as John walked through made me stupidly giddy with excitement. I could not stop grinning. There was a suited businessman in the seat next to me. He introduced himself as Archie McRae from Edinburgh. He had no discernable Scottish accent, and told me that he was in the oil business.

We chatted generally about things, and he noticed my ring. I explained I was flying in to Phoenix as my fiancé was from Arizona. I explained that our previous spouses had died of cancer, so it was our second time around for each of us.

He was actually charming and good company. His wife was back in Edinburgh and his children were in their late teens, so were still at home. He was looking forward to his retirement when they could enjoy each other’s company.

"What happens if something happens to either of you now?"

He was quiet for a while.

"I hadn’t considered that. I suppose one thinks that it will never happen to you, doesn’t one?"

"It happened to me, and to John. We are both determined that we are going to spend as much time as possible with each other from now on," I said.

He looked quite thoughtful and then smiled.

"I think I may seriously reconsider my future plans, there is no point working your balls off, if you never get to appreciate the best things in life. And they can’t be bought!"

I laughed and agreed, telling him about my plans to surprise John. He thought that it was a wonderfully romantic thing to do, and wished me well.

It was two o’clock in the afternoon when the flight landed. I took my time and approached the U.S. Immigration desk a little nervously. But I needn’t have worried, I must have looked a safe bet, as I was asked the minimum of questions, and was permitted to pass through to collect my case.

I wandered through onto the arrival’s concourse, checking on the TV monitor to see that John’s flight was just landing. I stood by the rails about as excited as one could be. I saw that the monitor stated the baggage was in the hall, and my excitement built up to the point where I was ready to burst.
 
 
Finally, they came through. Ed was pushing the cart (we are in America now) and John was ambling along in that loose-limbed stride I had come to love so much.

Ed walked straight past me, without a glance. John looked at me, looked away and then back again.

His eyes opened wide and his mouth opened, but no sound came out.

"Hi honey. Remember me?" I said, in a poor attempt at an American accent.
 
 
Chapter 8
 
 
John
 
They tell me that I'm a difficult guy to surprise. Well, when I came through the arrivals door and saw Dee standing there, you could have knocked me down with a feather. I was feeling really down at that moment. The flight had been long and dreary and I missed Dee a lot. The prospect of going back to the ranch full of memories did not fill me with enthusiasm, and neither was I even particularly keen to go back to work. In fact, I seriously thought about booking on the return flight to England!

Ed just walked on by, as he didn’t even see her. I saw her, but discounted what my eyes had seen as being wishful thinking, but then had to look back to check.

She was wearing that pretty, floral dress that I liked so much, showing her tanned shoulders and arms. She had that wide brimmed white hat on, with the pale high-heeled sandals, showing off those amazing legs of hers. I saw her suitcase by her, and worked out that she must have got a slightly earlier flight. She looked stunning and every inch the lady she was.

But when she said, "Hi honey. Remember me?" My heart lurched, and I realised that I had been right. This woman meant the world to me.

I swept her off her feet and we were both laughing and crying at the same time. We were getting some funny looks from everyone else, but I couldn’t give a damn. Ed stopped saw us, shaking his head in wonder, a huge grin spreading across his face.
 
 
We went out to the parking lot and said goodbye to an incredulous Ed. I put our cases into the pickup. She slid in next to me and I drove out onto the highway.

"Ed will be telling our sister Pam all about you already," I said.

"I don’t care. I just couldn’t face life without you," she said, snuggling close to me.

I felt as if I had just won the state lottery. I couldn’t stop grinning, and when I looked at her, she was the same.

"Hell, I love you, Dee," I said.

"That’s a good thing," she said in that wonderful English accent, and I laughed. I was just glad to be alive.

It was a two-hour drive to Midhurst, so I pointed stuff out to her as we travelled along. But she just sat with her head against my shoulder, smiling at me. Somehow it didn’t matter what passed us by, we were just happy we were together.

I had to drive through the town to get to the ranch, so she told me that she was interested to see the place.

"Shall we stop for a coffee or something?" I asked, as it was six pm.

She just smiled. "Whatever you want. I’m in your world now," she said.

I parked out front of Wendy’s and went in, sitting down next to each other in a booth.

Jean, the waitress, came over and seemed pleased to see me. The last time I had seen her was the day of the siege, when I had affected her release prior to taking down young Luke.

"Hi Chief, good to see ya back. Did you have a nice vacation?" she said.

"I had a wonderful time, thanks, Jean. This here is Dee, she’s from England. We’ll be getting’ married sometime soon," I explained.

Her reaction was a joy to behold. She stared at me, then at Dee and then back at me again.

"You’all getting married?" she asked, incredulity creeping into her voice.

Dee waved her left hand at her, so Jean stared at the ring.

"Well, I’ll be….," she said, a smile breaking across her face.

"Can we get something to drink, or what?" I asked.

She gave us the menus, and shot off to the kitchen. I knew that I didn’t have to tell anyone else, the whole town would know by sunset.

Dee was smiling.

"What?" I asked.

"Nothing, I am just so pleased to be here."

"It’s a small town and word gets around real quick," I explained.

"I come from a village, so I know how things work," she said, taking my hand.

Jean brought us some iced water and took out her pad to take our order. We didn’t want anything to eat, just some iced tea.

As we sat, I saw a police cruiser pull up and Pete got out. I smiled, as the jungle drums must have been working overtime. He saw me and waved, and then he came into the diner.

"Hi Jean, just a black coffee, please, honey," he said as he came over to our booth. He looked at Dee and then at me.

"Hey John, I heard you were back, and am I to understand the message correctly?"

"Pete, this is Deborah Cartwright, Dee to her friends. Dee this is my friend and colleague Peter Collins. Pete, Dee and I will be getting married, so I’ll be needing your services as best man, again."

Pete shook Dee’s hand, sitting opposite us in the booth. He had a huge grin on his face.

"Million to one, hey, I wish I had put a bet on with those odds," he said, as I remembered one of the last conversations we had before I left for England.

Jean brought over his coffee, while Pete brought me up to date with events in town. Nothing had really happened, so I believed that the time was right to retire. I noticed he could not stop looking at Dee, and he just kept smiling.

"You’ll have to come over for dinner, this week, I can’t wait for you to meet Ellen," he said to her.

"I’d like that," she replied.

"At some point, I have to tell the girls," I said.

"Don’t they know yet?" Pete asked, a little surprised.

"Heck, Pete, we only got engaged a two days ago, and we flew in a couple of hours ago. Give me a chance," I said.

"Well, enough people were hoping something like this would happen, but very few of us expected it. Particularly to someone as beautiful as Dee here," he said, as Dee blushed.

I noticed that there were an awful lot of police officers who were just happening to be passing the diner, and Dee smiled at me.

"What did you expect?" she said and I laughed. I knew that it was probably better this way.

Pete asked me about the vacation, so I told him how Dee and I had met, on that first day. As I recounted the events that had passed, I began to realise just how low I had gotten. Over the three weeks, Dee and I had helped each other find a place where we could hold our heads up and be part of the human race again. I looked at her and she held my hand tightly under the table. I was aware just how hard this was for her, particularly in such a strange place. She looked so serene and calm, but I knew that underneath she was going through all her worries over who she was.

I told Pete how Dee had looked after us in England, and then how she had surprised me at arrivals in Phoenix.

I remembered the visit to the police station and dug out Inspector Caroline Mercer’s card.

"Pete. Could you dig out some patches for this lady, and stick a ‘with compliments of the Chief’ slip in the mail to her?"

He looked at it. "Sure, what was that about?"

Dee told him, in exaggerated and graphic details about how I had assisted the young constable in his moment of need.

Pete smiled and shook his head.

"Always gotta be the hero, John!" he said, chuckling as he slipped the card into his shirt pocket.

I realised that we had been travelling for fourteen hours, so I wanted to get Dee home. I told him we had better get on out to the ranch. We said goodbye and hit the trail again.

"Pete seems a nice guy," she said, as we set off once more.

"Yeah, he and Ellen have been good friends to me. Particularly through the illness and after Sal died. I was pretty shitty for a while. The booze nearly got the better of me."
 
 
I drove the pick up out of town, and we hit open country immediately. Dee was looking out the window at the passing the scenery, which was very different to the lush green of England.

"I can’t get over the huge expanses of nothing," she remarked.

I just smiled. I looked at her profile, and once again tried to imagine her as a male. I couldn’t! Everything about her was so perfectly feminine, from her gestures, the way she moved, her speech and her looks. She was just lovely, and I realised that I loved her deeply. I was just so pleased she had flown out to be with me. She turned and caught me looking at her. She smiled, reaching out to me with her hand.

"I am sorry to have intruded into your life," she said.

"Don’t be. I was just thinking how pleased I was that you were with me."

"But, I’m a potential problem for you, as well."

"Problems like you I can have every day," I said and grinned.

It had just gone seven when I parked the pickup by the front door. José appeared as I opened Dee’s door for her.

"Seá±or John. Welcome home," the old man said.

"Hi there, José. How’s everything been?"

"Everything is fine, seá±or," he said looking at Dee with a smile on his face.

"Dee, honey, this is José, my right hand here. Jose looks after the horses, while his wife looks after the house. José, this is Dee, she and I are getting married."

"Married, seá±or?"

"Yup," I said, staring straight at Dee. "So we’ll be two for dinner from now on."

José’s smile said it all, as he dashed off shouting for his wife.

I got the bags out of the back of the truck and, taking her arm, led her into our home. This was the hardest thing, as I felt Sally was watching us.

I looked at the house differently today. I actually tried to imagine how Dee would see it, comparing it to her cosy little English cottage.

Set out on one floor, with a huge basement below, the house was spread out over a large area. I liked big rooms, so all the rooms were large, with big windows.
 
 
Sally and I liked the scenery out here, so every room had a superb view, the living room particularly. It was rectangular, with a dining area to the left. I had steps down into the sitting area, with either polished wood or ceramic tile floors everywhere to keep things cool. It was light and airy, with Sally’s portrait hanging above the fireplace.

Dee stopped and looked at the portrait, as I found myself close to tears. Sally was smiling, but staring over my shoulder into the distance.

"She is very beautiful," Dee said. I noted she said, ‘she is, and not ‘was’.

"I think so," I said.

"She looks fun," she said, and that was it. The tears came, so she turned round to see them rolling down my cheeks.

"Oh, my God! Oh, John, I’m so sorry," she said, coming over to me and holding me close.

I had another ‘moment’, as she simply held me as I released another load of grief onto her.

I looked through my tears at the picture, but through the dampness, I swear I saw Sally wink at me!

It stopped me cold, and a shiver ran down my spine, so I shook it off and told myself I was seeing things.

It stopped me crying though.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

I smiled and nodded.

"I thought this might happen," she said.

"Why?"

"I don’t know, I suppose I knew that it would be hard to introduce me to her,"

I looked at her, but realised that she had hit the nail on the head. That is exactly how I felt, and the remarkable thing was that I felt Sally approved.

I looked up at the portrait.

"Sally, meet Dee. Dee, this is Sally, I think you’d have liked each other," I said.

She smiled, staring up at Sally.

"Hi Sally. Thanks for having such a wonderful man. I'll try to look after him for you," she said, and I cried again. I kissed her, as she wiped my face with her hand.

"If it gets tough, please tell me," she said, so I nodded.

I showed her the huge bedroom, with her dressing room and the bathroom.

"My God, how many clothes did she have?" she asked, on seeing the vast wardrobe space.

"She never filled it, but it was always built in case."

"In case of what?"

I grinned and shrugged.

"I always reckon you need lots of storage space, so when we designed it, we took that into consideration."

She opened the cupboard and saw the rows of dresses, skirts and blouses.

"You couldn’t get rid of anything?"

I shook my head.

She turned and looked at me.

"This is something you have to come to terms with. I don’t want to step into her shoes, or dresses for that matter," she said with a small smile, "but, I will help you all I can. The past has to be dealt with. If we have a future, then it is the two of us. I’m not into threesomes."

"The girls came over and made me put the lot into bags to give away. But as soon as they left I took them all out and hung them up again," I admitted.

"Oh John, you aren’t a closet TV are you?" she said with a grin.

I smiled and shook my head. "Hell no! Besides, Sally wasn’t even as big as you. So there is no way that I could get into her stuff."

"I’m just teasing," she said, putting her hand on my arm.

"If there is anything there you’d like?" I said.

She looked at me. "Do you really want me to wear her clothes?"

I went to her jewellery box and brought it to her.

"She asked me to give you this, so I guess she didn’t mind."

Dee took the box with a frown, and opened it.

She sat on the bed, with tears rolling down her face. I sat next to her, so we simply held each other and cried.

"My God, John. This is hard enough for me. What it must be like for you?" she said.

"You have no idea."

"Oh, I think I do," she said, snuffling into a tissue.

I smiled. "Okay, maybe you do. But you're probably the only person who does."

"You’d be surprised how many people have to deal with death. It’s one of two certainties in life," she said.

"Yeah, I know — death and taxes!" I said and she smiled.

I looked at the rows of clothes and shoes.

"Will you help me?" I asked.

She smiled and kissed me.

"Of course. And if there is anything you feel she’d like me to have, then it would be an honour to wear it, but only occasionally," she said.
 
 
So, then and there, we found some large trash bags and took all Sally’s clothes from the racks and shelves to sort through them. It was the second time for me, so I cursed myself for being so stupid after the first time, because it was almost harder the second time.

Dee was very cool and calm, but was firm with me. In the end she kept just six items, and the rest she helped carry out to the pick up. Fortunately, she was slightly broader than Sally, so few of the items were her size. Her feet were bigger, so all Sally’s shoes went.

She was thorough and even went to the airing cupboard to seek out items of which I had no knowledge.

Finally, she declared that the job was done, placed her case in her dressing room, and hung up her few clothes in the vast, but now empty wardrobe.

I unpacked and discovered that Dee had washed all my dirty clothes prior to us leaving. I smiled and put things away. She kept surprising me.

The phone rang, so I answered the one by the bed. It was my sister Pamela.

"John! Ed has just called. Is it true?" she said.

"Is what true?" I asked, teasing her.

Dee came into the bedroom, came over and put her arms around me. I smiled.

"Oh, you can be so annoying at times. Ed told me that you met a beautiful English lady and you're planning to get married," Pam said.

"He did?"

"Are you?"

"Might be."

"John!"

I laughed. "Okay Pam. Yes, I met a beautiful English lady, and yes, we're planning on getting married. Okay?"

"Oh my God! How wonderful. What's she like?"

"Well, she's beautiful, about five seven, blonde, a couple of years younger than me, a widow with three grown up kids. She is an artist and writer, who adores riding, and is in my arms as we speak."

"You brought her back?"

"Nope! Didn’t Ed tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

"We stayed with Dee in England, as she lives in the cottage that the guy Ed was trying to track down might have lived all those years ago. Anyway, we sort of fell in love, and then Ed and I left to come home. She raced us to the airport, booked herself on an earlier plane, and was waiting for me in Phoenix when I arrived. It was the most wonderful surprise I have ever had."

"Oh my God! How romantic! You must bring her over. Mom is dying to meet her. Hell, we’re all dying to meet her."

"Mom knows?"

"Yeah, Ed spoke to her first."

"Okay, look, don’t tell the girls, I want to do that myself. Okay?"

"Okay. John?"

"Yeah?"

"You have no idea how pleased we are."

"Oh, I have. I’m mighty pleased myself," I said, kissing Dee.

"I’ll let you get on. Mind you, there are few ladies who will be slightly put out that you've gone abroad for a bride."

"Too bad," I said, and we hung up.
 
 

*          *          *
 
End of Part 4
 
 
To Be Continued...

 
David buries his wife after she loses her fight against cancer. He is nearly 50, and their children are now grown up, so he breaks the news that he is going to undertake that which he wanted to do for as long as he could remember — a sex change. He had struggled with his transsexuality all his life, but his love for his wife and respect for her meant he just played the hand that he had been dealt, up to now, that is.

Meanwhile, in the USA, grizzled Police Chief John Collingwood comes to near breaking point. Stressed from his job, his grief over his dead wife, and the despair of near alcoholism, he embarks on a trip to the UK with his brother to seek out his family tree.

Two very different people find a very different future, they also find each other...

but will it work?

---

Tanya has a new website where she will display her latest works first and then to BigCloset TopShelf a few weeks later is here at Tanya Allan's Tales .
Tanya's Book Shop where she is selling her works in book form is at http://tanyaallan.authorshaunt.com/shop.php . Please Visit!

---

 
The Legal Stuff: A Girl Can But Dream  © 2006,2009,2010 Tanya Allan
 
This work is the property of the author, and the author retains full copyright, in relation to printed material, whether on paper or electronically. Any adaptation of the whole or part of the material for broadcast by radio, TV, or for stage plays or film, is the right of the author unless negotiated through legal contract. Permission is granted for it to be copied and read by individuals, and for no other purpose. Any commercial use by anyone other than the author is strictly prohibited, and may only be posted to free sites with the express permission of the author.
 
This work is fictitious, and any similarities to any persons, alive or dead, are purely coincidental. Mention is made of persons in public life only for the purposes of realism, and for that reason alone. Certain licence is taken in respect of medical procedures, terms and conditions, and the author does not claim to be the fount of all knowledge.
 
The author accepts the right of the individual to hold his/her (or whatever) own political, religious and social views, and there is no intention to deliberately offend anyone. If you wish to take offence, that is your problem.
 
This is only a story, and it contains adult material, which includes sex and intimate descriptive details pertaining to genitalia. If this is likely to offend, then don’t read it.
 
Please enjoy.
Tanya
 
 

 
 
 
Chapter 9
 
 
Dee
 
I could see that John exacted enormous pleasure from winding his sister up. So I went and gave him a hug so he’d behave himself a little at least.

He put the phone down.

“Well, Ed’s told my mother and sister. I suppose I’d better tell the girls.”

I just held him, enjoying feeling him close to me.

He wrapped his arms around me, so I got a warm fuzzy feeling.

“Honey, we should go eat. Maria will have done supper for us.”

“Mmm,” I said, reluctant to move.

But move we did, and we went to the open area to the rear of the house. A long table was on the deck next to the pool. Flowers and vines were growing in borders all along the side of the house and were climbing up the walls and across the wooden arched structures designed for such a purpose.

A large Hispanic lady with a huge smile was placing some dishes on the table.

She stopped and looked at John and then at me.

“Seá±or John. It is such happy news,” she said, coming over and giving him a hug.

She then turned to me. “Seá±ora, it is so good to see him smile again. We never thought he would,” she said embracing me as well.

“Dee lost her spouse to cancer too,” John said.

“Oh, Seá±ora, I am so sorry.”

I smiled. What could one say?

“We are both in the same boat, so it helps being able to understand,” I said.

John opened a bottle of Californian wine, so we sat down to a real authentic Mexican dinner. It was superb.
 
 
My cooking was always either traditional English or European, particularly the French Cordon Bleu style. So as soon as we had finished I was in the kitchen asking Maria all about her cooking and she seemed quite surprised at my interest.

John grinned.

“Maria, Dee is a professional cook by training. She ran her own company.”

She looked worried then, so I could see her feeling that her job was under threat.

I put my hand on her arm.

“Maria, I was a professional cook. Now I am a writer and artist. Your cooking is wonderful, so I have no intention to take over and push you out. In fact, I think we’ll make a really good team,” I said.

She smiled at me, but I could see she wasn’t convinced.

Well, time would tell.

It was strange having someone to cook and clear up. So much so that I remarked on it to John as we sat on the deck watching the wonderful sunset.

“Well, they have meant everything to me over the last few months. They kept me going.”

“I appreciate that, and I am delighted that they are here. I am just not used to it. But I feel that I can get used to it very easily,” I said with a grin.

I was snuggled up against him on the swing seat. I must have nodded off, for he gently woke me with a kiss, before lifting me up in his arms and carrying me to bed.

We undressed and were in bed quite quickly.
 
 
I sensed an awkwardness in him, so drew him to me.

“Now John, if you feel that this is too hard, I’ll sleep in a spare room,” I said.

He pulled me close.

“No! It’s strange, but I need to deal with it. Like you, I never want to be alone again.”

We snuggled together and I fell asleep very quickly.
 
 
I awoke feeling disorientated.

It took me a moment to remember where I was, as it was quite dark, and unfamiliar. But I remembered, reaching out and touching the sleeping man next to me.

Every house had its own unique sound, so this one was new to me.

I looked at the clock. - 05:00.

My body clock was several hours ahead, so I was wide-awake.

I got up and went for a pee, fumbling for the light switch, but failing, so I peed in the dark.

I went back to bed and snuggled close to John, wrapping one arm around him.

He stirred in his sleep and reached out and put his arm round me. I smiled, as I just loved him so much. I breathed in his smell, as it was almost intoxicating. Despite myself, I felt myself becoming aroused by his mere proximity and maleness.

I tentatively reached down and found his manhood. To my surprise it was erect, so I curled my fingers around it gently.

He stirred again, flexing his pelvis slightly.
 
 
I lay there, holding him and feeling my body respond to the sexual stimulae.

I didn’t have to move, but felt myself becoming moist and ready, purely through mental images of him.

I looked at him in the gloom. I felt very humble and privileged that he loved me so unconditionally despite all my history.

I moved my hand, gently rubbing his penis.

Laying on my side, I looked at his face, then supporting my head on my hand, resting my elbow on my pillow, so I got a better look at him.

My hand was moving a little faster now and his eyes opened.
He focussed on me, as a slow smile spread across his face.

“What ya doin’?”

“There’s a snake in the bed, so I’m trying to strangle it.”

“You may have to suffocate it between your legs,” he suggested.

He rolled onto his back, so I mounted him, allowing him to impale me completely.

To feel him so deep inside me was the most fulfilling sensation in the world. I had often tried to imagine what it would be like, and never in all my dreams had I come close.

As I gently raised and lowered myself on him, feeling his hands on my bottom and his face at my breast, I knew that everything had been worth it. If I were to die now, I should die completely happy.
 
 
We made love very slowly, gathering pace gradually. My eyes were accustomed to the gloom, so I was able to watch his expression.

I smiled, so he pulled my head down so he could kiss me. It was a very passionate kiss but his stubble was very scratchy against my face. But somehow this added to the almost animalistic feelings I had.

I could smell his musty maleness, and it was so erotic! I built up some speed, and soon felt the now familiar approach an orgasm. The doctors had told me that it was not possible to state whether or not I would ever achieve a true female orgasm.

Well, whatever I achieved would do!

It was ten times the feelings I recalled experiencing as a male, and when more than one occurred, I was more than happy to settle for what I had.
 
 
Finally, he arched his back, thrusting himself as deeply into me as he could manage and, as before, the thought of his semen spurting deep inside me, brought me a further amazing feeling. I felt weak and completely sated, as I simply cuddled him, still lying on top of him, and allowing him to shrink inside my vagina. I wished I was fertile so I could conceive his child.

He kissed me, gently rolling me off him, getting out of bed and going to the bathroom. I lay there with a silly smile on my face. I put one hand down to my very wet vagina and felt the wetness, bringing it up to my face so I could breath in the scent of our union.

John returned, sliding into bed beside me.

“What brought that on?”

“I just wanted you!”

“I’m pleased. Better now?”

I smiled and nodded.

He pulled me close and we lay there for a while. I still wasn’t sleepy.

I placed the palm of my hand on his flat muscular stomach, letting my fingers play with the hair leading down to his penis.
 
 
I suddenly got an overpowering urge to taste him, so I snuggled my head on his tummy and took his soft penis into my mouth.

He didn’t object, and I could taste our combined juices on it as I licked the head with my tongue.

“Dee, you don’t have to,” he said.

“I do!” I said, with my mouth full,

He started to respond, so soon it was erect once more. It was really quite big, not as large as number five dilator, but bigger than number four!

I caressed and kissed his balls, and licked up and down his shaft. He moaned and writhed in almost blissful agony, as I took the head into my mouth and let my tongue dance around like a dervish.

He started to thrust down my throat, so I held the shaft to prevent being gagged. Then he muttered about coming, and my mouth was suddenly full of hot sticky semen.

It surprised me in a way. I expected the sticky, but not the hot!

It tasted quite neutral, a little salty and bitter, so I swallowed it, licking him clean. I was so aroused now, as his hand was rubbing me to climax.
 
 
Eventually I settled down, and he held me again.

“What has got into you?” he asked.

“Why, are you complaining?”

“No way. But if you keep this up, I’ll be dead in a month!”

I chuckled. “I just adore pleasing you,” I said.

“Is that it?”

“No, I love you inside me as well!”

We dozed for a while. I was so content it was unbelievable. For all the years of anguish and torment, this was what I had been born for.

I actually went to sleep again, because he woke me by rubbing my vagina.

I stared at him, and he grinned.

“My turn,” he said, rolling me onto my tummy and entering me from behind, with my bum in the air.

He went for it very hard, and it was amazing.

I came to climax very quickly, and screamed as several came at once. He just kept going, as he had been spent twice already, he had more reserves this time.
By the time he came in me, I was a spent force. I was almost shaking and my limbs felt like jelly.

I felt well and truly fucked.
 
 
We dragged ourselves to the shower and cleaned up.

I shaved him, finding it really strange shaving someone else.

“I love you Dee,” he said, as I cleaned off the gel.

“Me too,” I said, kissing his nice smooth face.

“Do you fancy a ride?” he asked.

“I though we’d already done that?”

He laughed, shaking his head.

“On a horse.”

“I’d love to,” I said, and went to dress in my jodhpurs.

“Have you any jeans, Honey?” he asked, on seeing how I was dressed.

“Why?”

“Well, the saddles out here are different, and most people wear jeans!”

“I’m happy in these. Besides, you like the look of them.”

“I sure do,” he said, grabbing my bum.

It was instant. As soon as he touched me, I wanted him again.

“Don’t!” I said.

“What?” he asked, surprised.

“Every time you touch me, I want you,” I explained.

He smiled. “This is gonna make life kinda interesting.”

I touched his trousers, so could feel his erection.

“You too?”

He grinned and nodded.

“It’s them pants!” he said.

“No, it’s you. I love you so much, I want you inside me all the time.”

“Now that really would make life interesting.”
 
 
We went to breakfast and sat on the deck in the morning sun.

“Coffee?” he asked.

“No thanks, just some orange juice, please.”

He handed me a glass.

I looked at the rugged beauty of the surrounding countryside.

“It is really spectacular here. I can see why you love it.”

“Yeah, it sort of changes moods. I mean England is very different, but the contrast is quite remarkable,” he said.
 
 
We ate fruit and cereal. I felt quite at peace with the world.I became aware that he was watching me.

“What?” I asked, getting self-conscious.

“I’m sorry. I keep looking to see if I can see any of your past.”

“Do you?”

He shook his head.

“Nope. I just see a beautiful woman whom I love.”

I smiled, what could anyone say to words like that?

“I also think you look right at home here.”

I smiled again. “You mean I have a choice?”

He looked me in the eye.

“Oh yes, I’ll never ever make you do anything you don’t want to do.”

The phone rang, so he went indoors to answer it.

I looked at the remarkable colours, and wondered how hard they’d be to paint. I thought it would be fun finding out.
 
 
I finished my breakfast and went in to see he was in deep conversation.

“It’s Annie,” he said, covering up the phone for a second. Annie was his younger daughter, the one with a boyfriend. I could only hear one side of his conversation.

“I was going to call you, honey, it was we just got in late and were tired after the long flight,” he said.

“No, I’m not embarrassed of you or her. Look, why don’t you and Jenny come over for dinner, so you can all meet?”

“Well, tomorrow then?”

“Okay, what time?”

“Fine, we’ll see you at seven tomorrow.”

“What?”

“No, we met on the first day in England!”

“Why?”

“She is a couple of years younger than me, and she has her own kids.”

“No they are all grown up.”

“Three. Two boys and a girl.”

“No, only her daughter, Sarah. The boys aren’t married.”

“One is a student and the other is an officer in the Marines.”

“No, honey, that’s the Royal Marines, not our Marines.”

“Sarah is older, she’s twenty five and has a daughter called Amy.”

“Yes, I’m marrying a grandma,” he said, and laughed.

“Look, we are about to go for a ride, say hi to Jenny for me, okay?”

“Okay sweetie, bye then,”

“Phew, talk about the Spanish Inquisition,” he said, and I immediately thought of Monty Python.

I almost expected Michael Palin dressed as a cardinal to come bursting in the door saying, “Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition!”

“So, I am on display tomorrow?” I asked.

He smiled. “They’ll be fine. I could hear Jenny asking about the Marine in the background.”

The thought made me smile. I imagined a wedding between one of my kids and one of his.

He was obviously thinking the same thing and we laughed together, although slightly uneasily.
 
 
We spent the morning riding, when I saw some wonderful wind sculptured rock formations and knew that I’d have to try to paint these. The colours, with the reds browns and yellows were fantastic, and depending on the light, seemed to change the shape of the rocks.

It was a lot warmer than in England, so I felt my skin burning in the dry heat. I was wearing a light short sleeve shirt, and wished I had brought a hat like John’s Stetson.

“I must get a hat,” I said.

“And some boots!” he said looking at my trainers. I thought about bringing my riding boots, but there wasn’t enough room.

“Okay, so we’d better go shopping,” I said.

“I need to go into town in any case, so we could grab some lunch and do a bit of shopping as well.”

“Okay,” I said, and we slowly made our way back to the ranch.

Jose was waiting for us, so we wiped down the horses and let them out into the pasture.
 
 
We went back into the house and I started the shower. The phone rang again, so I was a shower by myself. Which was just as well, as I didn’t want to kill the poor old man off.

“That was my mother,” he said, as he came into the bedroom as I was dressing again.

“Oh yes?”

“Can we go down and stay with her next weekend?”

“I’m in your hands. I’d like to meet her.”

“Okay, then we will. Are you sure you are okay with this?”

“Positive,” I said, not really knowing whether that was wholly true.
 
 
Chapter 10
 
 
John
 
We drove into town at about eleven, and Dee was looking as fresh as a daisy.

She was wearing a pale yellow shirt and a pair of blue jeans, which looked as if they were sprayed on. She had a tremdous figure; one for which someone fifteen years younger would have sold her soul. I mean, I know that she told me she’d once been male, but looking at her shape, I had the most enormous difficulty accepting it as true. She sat close to me, saying little. I know she said that she was happy to meet all my folks, but I knew it must be hard for her and that she was worried.

I was feeling a little tired, but very content. Sexually, she was almost insatiable, so I found it a challenge to satisfy her. Once again, I found it almost impossible to believe that she could ever have been male, so filed that fact deep in the darkest corner of my mind.

Sally and I had had an active and good sex life, but I wasn’t prepared for Dee’s appetite. Whereas Sally was loving and giving, our lovemaking had been quite gentle and fun. Dee was something else!

With Dee, it was adventurous and exciting. It was almost as if she was on a voyage of discovery, so was pushing the bounds out every time. She gave of herself completely, taking anything with such enthusiasm that I found her very physical presence sexually arousing.

Even now, sitting in the pickup driving into town, she was casually caressing my arm in such a way that I very sensual and erotic. It was all I could do not to stop the truck and take her here and now.

The real problem was that she would love it, so may come to expect it all the time.
 
 
I smiled, as I felt her hand drop to my pants.

“No Dee. Not when I’m driving.”

“So, why have you got a woody?” she asked, with a cheeky grin.

I smiled. “You have this effect on me,” I said. And it was true, as it was like being sixteen all over again. Every day started off with the same sort of anticipation and excitement.

Smiling at me, she removed her hand, and I relaxed.

I parked outside the office and we went in together. Sam, the dispatcher, stared at Dee for a moment and then at me, as I was behind her.

“Chief, and the future Mrs Chief. Great to see you back,” she said, grinning.

Within moments, the small office was filled with people, while Pete watched with a knowing smile on his face. I introduced Dee to everyone, so she smiled and was typically Dee. Gradually, they all went back to work, so she looked at me and smiled.
 
 
We went into my office and she sat in my chair as I opened some of my personal mail. Pete had looked after most of it, so there were just a few bits for me to look at.

Pete came and knocked on the open door.

“Come in, Pete.”

“So, how long you staying on?” he said.

I smiled, as Dee was watching me.

“Long enough to get a replacement. Do you want the job?”

He shook his head. “No thanks. Ellen and I talked it over last night. When you go, I go.”

“The new guy will need breaking in.”

Pete smiled. “I’ll stay on for a few weeks, but our time is up, big buddy.”

I looked at Dee.

“Yup, it sure is.”

She smiled and looked away.

I looked out the window, remembering the despair in my heart a few short weeks ago when I looked at the same view. Suddenly, the world was a nicer place again, as I had hope in my heart and love in my soul.
 
 
I took Dee across to Gates’ Boots and Tack store. Steve Gates seemed pleased to see us, and even gave Dee a discount on her new cowboy boots and hat. She looked a million dollars when we walked out of there, she was wearing the boots and hat, and I swear she was looking younger every time I looked at her. She glowed with contentment.

We had lunch at Maggie’s, where a lot more people came up to us for an introduction to my new woman.

She was charm personified, and sounded ever so English. I was real proud of her, so I told her so.

“Then it's all worth it,” she said, giving me a kiss.
 
 
We were just finishing, when Jacob Glennister, the town mayor, came in. He saw me, smiled and came over, taking his hat off to Dee.

“John, I heard you were back and that you had a charming companion,” he said.

“Jake, meet the future Mrs Collingwood. Dee, this is Jacob Glennister, the town mayor, and I suppose my employer. Jake, this is Deborah Cartwright, from England, who has agreed to be my bride.”

Jake took Dees hand and kissed her fingers.

“Ma’am. It's a real pleasure. I'm sure I'm not alone in thanking you for bringing the old John back to us. It's good to see the old man smiling again.”

Dee smiled.

“Well, we've both suffered similar losses, so he brought my smile back too,” she said.

“And may I say what a pretty one it is,” Jake gushed, the old charmer.

Dee laughed, so Jake sat down next to me.

“Now, what’s this I hear about you wanting to quit?” he said.

It was my turn to laugh, as I knew the news would reach him.

“Jake, I’ve been a cop for over thirty years. I’ve buried one wife, and my kids are in a different city. It's time for me to collect my pension, to enjoy whatever time I have left with my new bride, and to grow old in peace.”

“You’ll be a hard act to follow.”

“Not really. There are a lot of good cops out there, so you’ll get someone who will be just fine.”

“When were you planning on telling me?”

“My first day back at work is Monday. I'll put it in writing then, okay?”
 
 
Jake was deep in thought. I could almost hear the cogs going round.

“No, Jake, Pete doesn’t want the job. Hell, we joined together.”

“Have you anyone in mind?”

“There is a lieutenant in Phoenix who expressed an interest. He’s around forty and has a good record.

“Who’s that?”

“Lewis Grant. He was a detective on homicide last I heard.”

“Hmm, would he want to come to a small town like this?”

“Who knows? I did, and my career was quite similar to his.”

“Okay. Have you any objections if I put out some feelers?”

“None at all. I’ll do the same, and I won’t go until the post is filled.”

He got a crafty look in his eye.

“But if you haven’t filled it by the New Year, I’m getting married and going.”

“That only gives me three months.”

“Yup, that’s what I made it.”

He stood up and bowed slightly to Dee.

“It’s been a pleasure, ma’am. It’s just a shame that John feels the need to desert us in our hour of need.”

“Jake, you can be a real asshole at times,” I said, laughing.

He looked at me and shrugged.

“John, you’ve done this town proud. It sure will be sad day when you stand down.”

“Yeah, well, Dee promised to marry me, and I promised to retire, so I have to get my priorities right.”

Jake smiled and put his hat back on.

“Take care, you two,” he said, and left us alone.
 
 
Lunch was fine, but I could tell Dee had something on her mind.

“Penny for them?” I said.

“I was wondering about your mother and the rest of the family.”

“You mean whether to tell them the truth?”

She smiled. “Yes. You know me, I don’t want to live a lie,” she said.

“Dee, look in a mirror. The world sees what I see, a beautiful woman. There’s no lie in letting the world make its own mind up. My family will love you for what you are, as I do. I don’t feel you should beat yourself up over the past. There’s no deception, no lie in being true to who you are now.”

“But, I don’t want to keep secrets from people.”

“Dee, everyone has some secrets, that’s life. I love you and I want what’s best for you. I believe that there will come a time when you could tell anyone who you want, but leave it a while, please.”

She smiled and looked out the window.

“I don’t want to bring any hurt to you, you know that?” she said.

“I know, honey.”

She looked at me again. I could sense this was giving her problems.

“Okay, I’ll hold it for a while. I’m not happy in keeping things in the dark forever, though.”

“Whatever you decide, I’ll respect.”

“I want your girls to know before we marry,” she said.

“Okay.”

“And if they disapprove, then I call it off.”

“They won’t!”

“John, this is important to me!”

“I know my girls, once they get to know you, they’ll be fine.”

“Thanks,” she said, taking my hand again.

I went back to the department to make a couple of phone calls. Then we drove home after Pete had asked us to go to dinner with him and Ellen that evening.

I wanted to show her around the ranch, so we went for another short ride, taking in some of the better views. She looked so much more at home with the boots and hat. She was a very accomplished horsewoman, and I kept hearing Sally chuckle at how well we seemed to be matched.
 
 
Dinner with Pete and Ellen was relaxed and good fun. Their kids were away at college or working as well, so it was just the four of us. Pete cooked the steaks on the barbeque as we sat drinking cold beers and chatting.

Ellen was really curious about Dee, but as soon as we arrived, they seemed to get on well. Dee went and helped Ellen prepare some salad, even showing her how to make a new style dressing. Dee was quite nervous, which I knew, but was thankful she didn’t show it.

She seemed to relax quite quickly, particularly when talking about her children and little Amy.

“You have a grand daughter? You don’t look old enough,” Ellen said, which made Dee laugh with genuine pleasure.

“Sarah is the exact clone of Dee. They look more like sisters than parent and child,” I said.

Dee looked at me, thanking me with her eyes for the way I had phrased that statement.

“So, John, did you meet all Dee’s Family?” Pete asked.

“No, just Sarah and little Amy.”

“So that’ll make you a step-grandpappy!” said Ellen, with some glee.

“Yeah, I guess it will.”

“How about having any more kids?” Ellen asked Dee.

Dee went bright red but stared right at me.

“I’d love to have John’s children, more than anything else in the world, but I’m afraid, I don’t have the equipment any more. Even if I could, I think I’m too old to start again,” she said.

“Yeah, holding little Amy was fine, but I don’t think I could go through all them sleepless nights again!” I said.

Ellen and Dee talked about babies and even breast-feeding. I was amazed at the way Dee answered, it was as if she had always been a woman and was as natural a mother figure as I could imagine.
 
 
Pete and I walked across the yard to look at his latest project. He was restoring an elderly Ford Mustang convertible.

“She’s some woman, John, I’m so pleased. Sally would approve,” he said.

“You reckon?”

“I sure do. She’s a real lady, she’s changed you, buddy.”

“How so?”

“You’ve come back to us, Big Jay. You’re human again.”

I smiled. “Yeah, she’s very special.”

“But you were so goddamn fast. What happened?”

I looked up at the stars in the clear inky sky.

“I’m not sure. As soon as I saw her, something happened. From the first few words we exchanged, I just knew that we had something that was starting to draw us together. We’ve both been hurt, so we can understand without having to speak. For all her outward strength, she’s very fragile and feels vulnerable. I’d hate for her to get hurt.”

“Well, the way she looks at you, I’d say you are both crazy in love.”

I looked back to where Dee was talking to Ellen. She said something that made Ellen laugh. Dee glanced at me, met my eyes and smiled. My heart sang.

“Yeah. I think you’re right.”

We got home long after midnight and went straight to bed. I felt tired but strangely content. We simply cuddled and fell asleep in each other’s arms.
 
 

*          *          *
 
End of Part 5
 
 
To Be Continued...

 
David buries his wife after she loses her fight against cancer. He is nearly 50, and their children are now grown up, so he breaks the news that he is going to undertake that which he wanted to do for as long as he could remember — a sex change. He had struggled with his transsexuality all his life, but his love for his wife and respect for her meant he just played the hand that he had been dealt, up to now, that is.

Meanwhile, in the USA, grizzled Police Chief John Collingwood comes to near breaking point. Stressed from his job, his grief over his dead wife, and the despair of near alcoholism, he embarks on a trip to the UK with his brother to seek out his family tree.

Two very different people find a very different future, they also find each other...

but will it work?

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Tanya has a new website where she will display her latest works first and then to BigCloset TopShelf a few weeks later is here at Tanya Allan's Tales .
Tanya's Book Shop where she is selling her works in book form is at http://tanyaallan.authorshaunt.com/shop.php . Please Visit!

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The Legal Stuff: A Girl Can But Dream  © 2006,2009,2010 Tanya Allan
 
This work is the property of the author, and the author retains full copyright, in relation to printed material, whether on paper or electronically. Any adaptation of the whole or part of the material for broadcast by radio, TV, or for stage plays or film, is the right of the author unless negotiated through legal contract. Permission is granted for it to be copied and read by individuals, and for no other purpose. Any commercial use by anyone other than the author is strictly prohibited, and may only be posted to free sites with the express permission of the author.
 
This work is fictitious, and any similarities to any persons, alive or dead, are purely coincidental. Mention is made of persons in public life only for the purposes of realism, and for that reason alone. Certain licence is taken in respect of medical procedures, terms and conditions, and the author does not claim to be the fount of all knowledge.
 
The author accepts the right of the individual to hold his/her (or whatever) own political, religious and social views, and there is no intention to deliberately offend anyone. If you wish to take offence, that is your problem.
 
This is only a story, and it contains adult material, which includes sex and intimate descriptive details pertaining to genitalia. If this is likely to offend, then don’t read it.
 
Please enjoy.
Tanya
 
 

 
 
 
Chapter 11
 
 
Dee
 
I wanted to show John’s daughters that I was good enough for their father, so Maria and I worked out a compromise menu that was partially English and partially familiar.

After our morning ride, John had some correspondence to do in relation to finding his replacement. I accompanied Maria in the Pickup to the local mall to buy some ingredients for the meal I intended.

Maria knew what the girls liked so, to a greater extent, that determined my choice of menu. Maria would have prepared a salad and let John cook some steaks and burgers on the barbeque. I wanted to show them there was another side to culinary delights.

I bought a whole fillet of beef, surprised at the low price. I hoped it would be as fine a quality as the Scottish beef I normally selected. We bought some local ingredients for the starter and dessert.

We then returned to the ranch where I pan fried the fillet in garlic and olive oil, simply browning the outside and sealing the juices in. I made a chicken liver pate, which I coated the fillet and surrounded the whole thing in pastry. Beef Wellington was one of my specialities in the old days, so I hoped it would be a success.

I felt unreasonably nervous of meeting John’s daughters, so as the day progressed, I became more and more jumpy. After a light lunch, John and I went for a ride, when he showed me some of the horses he’d bred. The whole way of life was so different from everything I had experienced that every moment was like a new adventure. I even managed to forget the daughters’ visit, for a short while at least.

In the event, I’m not sure who was the most nervous.

Maria and I had prepared everything, so the beef was in the oven on a low heat. I’d changed into a light summer dress and was feeling so jittery that John had to calm me down.

He held me for a few moments, just letting me shake.

“You’ll be fine!” he said.

I didn’t feel fine.

“What if they hate me?”

“They won’t!”

“They might!”

“Dee, they won’t. Trust me on this.”

A dog barked and he looked out the window.

“They’re here, come on,” he said, taking my hand and almost dragging me out to meet them.

They were both out of the car when we got to the front door. I could immediately see the resemblance to their mother, and to a degree to their father. Both girls were taller than I, but not by much, and both had long fair hair.

“Daddy!” said one, rushing over and giving her father a hug. I later learned it was Annie.

The other came over and smiled at me.

“Hi, you must be Dee. I’m Jenny,” she said.

We shook hands awkwardly, but then she grinned and embraced me.

“Hello, Jenny. Yes, I’m Dee. News travels fast, it seems.”

Annie looked at me and then at her father, who was grinning like a Cheshire cat. She simply gave me a hug too.

“Hi Dee, thanks for saving Daddy,” she said.

I laughed. “I think it’s as much a case of him saving me,” I admitted.

“Dee’s been through the same as me, girls. She’s a widow, to cancer too.”

“You’re looking so much better, Daddy,” said Jenny as she gave her father a hug.

“So, do you like Arizona, Dee?” Annie asked.

“I love it, so far. But I haven’t seen much of it yet.”

“Daddy, when are you going up to Flagstaff?” Jenny asked.

“Next weekend. Why, are you going to join us?”

“Would you mind?”

“Of course not, why should I?”

The girls were both dressed in jeans and short-sleeved shirts. It seemed to be the unofficial uniform of residents in these parts.
 
 
We all went inside, so I left the girls with their father as I checked on the kitchen. Maria virtually told me to go away, as she was in charge. The beef looked good, so I returned to the cool shady veranda overlooking the pool.

“What’s it like in England, Daddy?” Annie asked.

“It’s so green. I liked Dorset the best with so much unspoiled countryside, the narrow lanes and the history. There’s a ruined castle near where Dee lives. It was destroyed in the English civil war, that’s two centuries before ours. The Royalists were holding out against the parliament’s forces and the roundheads won. Then a few miles further on there’s the ocean, with the sandy beaches and the boats.”

“Cool! Is the ocean real close?” Annie asked.

“Britain is very narrow, so you're never further than about sixty miles from the sea, no matter where you are,” I explained.

“Wow, sixty miles, that’s not far!”

So it went on. The conversation changed, but never getting too deep.

“I understand you’ve three kids, and one’s a Marine?” Annie said, nudging her sister.

“Annie, behave!” she said, but smiled.

I couldn’t help but smile.

“I have two sons and a daughter. Sarah is my daughter and she’s the one with the baby. Then there’s Stephen, he’s the officer in the Royal Marines. He’s twenty-four now. Lastly, there’s Jon, who’s twenty-two and at Oxford University.”

“Have the boys got girlfriends?” asked Annie, giggling.

“Jon has, she’s called Sophie and is at Oxford with him, but Stephen doesn’t seem to have time.”

“There you go, Jen, a hunky marine!”

“Shut up, Annie!”

“Do you have any photos?” Annie asked.

“I have actually,” I said, delving into my bag.

The photograph was the one that was taken quite recently. Charles had taken it of the five of us before we all split up at the end of the summer. I was holding Amy, with Sarah to my left and Stephen to my left. Jon was next to Sarah. It looked such a lovely natural photograph, one couldn’t tell the changes that had occurred before that.

“Your daughter looks just like you.”

“Thanks.”

“Which one is the Marine?”

“The one next to me.”

“He’s cute, isn’t he Jen?” Annie asked, passing the photo over to her sister.

Jenny looked at the photo.

“Who took the photo?” she asked.

“Charles, my son-in-law.”

She smiled and handed it back.

“That’s a great family. You must be very proud.”

“I am, just as John is proud of his wonderful girls,” I said.

“Have you any pictures of your home?” Jenny asked.

“Not with me,” I said.

“Uncle Ed took about fifty rolls of film, so you will soon see where she comes from. She has a cute cottage and a lovely flower garden. The village is typically English, you’ll love it,” John said.

Suddenly, I was eager to share my home with these people.
 
 
John then went through how we met and happened to fall head over heels in love within twenty-four hours.

Jenny seemed genuinely pleased with the way events had panned out.

“Oh, Daddy, you’ve now idea how much we were all praying you’d find someone. I guess none of us expected things to happen this fast.”

“None of did, sweetheart, least of all Dee and myself. Heck, we were just two lonely and hurting people that happened to meet when our needs were greatest. I have to confess that Dee helped me to cry for your mother for the first time.”

“Daddy was a real mess, did he tell you about the drinking?” Annie asked.

“Annie!” admonished her sister.

“Yes, he told me all about the drinking and the prostitutes,” I said with a straight face.

“Prostitutes?” both girls said in unison.

John chuckled. “Hey, girls, she’s kidding. Just to show that although she comes over as a cool English lady, she has a wicked sense of humour,” he said.

I left them laughing in relief and went to check on the food.

“Senora, the food is ready, it looks wonderful. Why don’t you go and sit down?”
 
 
I returned to the veranda and ushered them into the dining area. The starter was avocado and prawns, which went down every well. However, when the beef came out I was rewarded by surprise and compliments.

The beef was excellent, a nice pink colour. It cut beautifully, complimented by the paté and the pastry.

“Dee made this, just to show you how good a cook she is,” John explained.

“You cook too? Hey daddy, don’t let this one get away!” said Jenny with a smile.

It was a very happy meal, so as I relaxed, I warmed to the girls. They were so nice and supportive, that I wondered why I’d been so nervous.

“So, when are you guys getting married?” Jenny asked.

“I’m not sure, Dee wanted to have certain conditions met before we could go ahead. Dee?” John said, looking at me.

I felt embarrassed.
 
 
“I simply stated that if your family hated me, we ought to think again.”

“Oh, Dee, don’t do that, Daddy needs you!” Annie said.

I smiled. “Then it’s up to your grandmother,” I said.

“That’s okay, she’ll do what we tell her,” said Jenny.

“Do you need any bridesmaids?”

“Gosh, I really hadn't thought that far ahead. I suppose Sarah will want to take pride of place, so you’re both more than welcome to be, if you’d like to, that is?”

“Great! I’ve always wanted to be a bridesmaid, and then we’ll get to meet the Marine, right Jenny?”

I smiled.

It was like coming home.
 
 
I don’t know why, but I expected them to leave after the meal, but they’d come to stay for a while. We all bade each other a good night and went to bed at about one am.

I lay snuggled up to John.

“See, I told you there was nothing to worry about!”

“It’s early days,” I said. “They don’t know me yet.”

“They adore you, they told me so when you were out of the room.”

“It’s still early days.”
 
 
They stayed for five days, and we managed to do a heck of a lot in those days. We rode, went shopping, walked and talked a good deal. I showed them how to make some easy and stunningly good food off a small budget, and in return they told me about their mother.

I came to know Sally quite well through her daughters, and truly began to feel that we would have been friends. She was very like my Delia, with the same supportive and loving nature. I wished I had met her, but realised that had she been alive, John would never have come to England.

People started dropping in, friends of John who had known Sally. I began to feel that I was under close scrutiny by the local community. It unnerved me slightly, but no one was unkind. It dawned on me that John was well respected by everyone, perhaps with the exception of some miscreants behind bars. Those who did hold him in high regard wanted to make sure that their John was in safe hands.

I must have passed the invisible test, for whenever I ventured into town, everyone was very polite and friendly.

So, feeling more confident, I faced the next test — John’s mother.

We drove up to Flagstaff with the girls. I was now almost dressed as they were, in jeans and a shirt. Only I wore a denim skirt. I revelled in being a woman, so tended to wear jeans or trousers only for riding or working on the ranch. My skin was tanned and I no longer looked quite so out of place.

John promised we would visit the Grand Canyon as we were so close. I was still very nervous, having convinced myself that John’s mother, Jean, would see through me and instantly know what I once had been.

Jean’s home was a delightful white house; a typical example of local architecture. It was on one level with a small yard and lots of shade from tall trees. It was built to keep cool, so I had yet to see any brick-built homes, such as we had in England. Jean came out to meet us almost before the engine had stopped.

She instantly reminded me of my own mother, now dead for a number of years. It wasn't her looks, as she was very different, buther general manner and her smile. She had white hair, set in a short and easy to manage style. She was a tall, slender woman, or had been in her younger years. Now age had caused some stooping of the back, but she was still an imposing woman.

“Come here, child,” Jean said to me, after her grand-daughters had greeted her and her son and dutifully kissed her cheek.

She’d taken me by the hand and escorted me to a swing seat in the shade in the garden. She sat me down and sat next to me.

“Now, tell me all about it,” she said.

I did.

I told her about my grief, how we met and how we fell in love. I told her about my family and how wonderful John had made me feel. I almost told her everything, but realised that it was unnecessary. The past was what crippled us. The future was what gave us hope and something to live for. It dawned on me that she neither wanted nor needed to know the gritty details of an irrelevant past. Who was I to bring such potentially harmful matters up?

I showed her the photograph of my family.

“My goodness, how like your daughter you are!” she said. I said nothing.

The girls seemed to want to help my sales pitch, for they continually sang my praises all though the visit.

As her son and the girls were sent on some minor errand, she had me alone.

“Tell me, Deborah, is this what you really want?”

“With all my heart, if he will have me.”

“Don’t be silly, of course he’ll have you. I just want to thank you, as one mother to another.”

“You don’t have to, I promise.”

“I do, Deborah. You see, I know how close to the edge John came. He’d never admit it, even to himself, but he was on a self-destructive path, from which you have managed to pull him off. I’ve my son back. For the first time in two years, he can smile and laugh. So, you will always have my gratitude and love. I thought I might bury a son, and a mother should never have to bury a child!”

I wept then, as did she, so John returned to find us embraced and weeping together.
 
 
We stayed the weekend. John andf the girls took me to see the Grand Canyon and it took my breath away. The spectacular splendour of nature is truly awesome, putting mans’ puny efforts to shame.

On the Sunday, Ed and Pamela arrived, along with their other halves and diverse off-spring. I felt so accepted that I felt ashamed for ever having been nervous. Ed had so many pictures of Dorset, so everyone had a very good idea of where I came from. The girls expressed a desire to come and stay, so persuaded us to set a date to marry soon.

John wouldn’t be pushed. He took the mantle from me, as all my reservations had been met.

“We’ll marry when I’ve retired,” he told us all.

“But that won’t be until next year!” wailed Annie.

“Where are you going to get married?” Jenny asked.

I hadn’t thought about it. I knew the laws were different in Europe and indeed they altered from State to State within America.

“Dee?”

“I’m not sure. There are many things to take into account. Your family is a lot more extensive than mine, so the expense of transporting all of you to England would be horrific. I don’t want a big affair, just immediate family. So there’d only be my children, their partners and my grand daughter, of course. As I’m taking steps into a new life, in a new place, I think I’d like to get married over here.”

Jean looked relieved, as the thought of a transatlantic flight was not high on her list of things she wanted to experience.

I left Jean knowing that I had a real friend. She accepted me as I was, with no reservations and with such love that I felt humble. It was like finding another mother. We wept a lot together over the weekend, as I was able to express some grief over my own mother’s death. When John and I returned to the ranch, the girls left for college, so life calmed down and started to settle into a more humdrum existence.

I thanked God daily for allowing me such happiness.
 
 
Chapter 12
 
 
John
 
“Are you sure we can’t persuade you to stay on?” Jake Glennister asked me. We were in his office, enjoying a coffee at the beginning of the day.

“Quite sure, Jake. I’ve a life to get back to. Besides, my family are all pressurising us to get married soon. Dee is being very patient, but now we’ve five applicants, I feel it’s time to go.”

Jake nodded, scratching his balding head.

“We want you to be on the interview board. It’s only right that you have a part in selecting your successor.”

“I’d be happy to.”

“Can you stay on for a week as a handover?”

“I’ve already said I would, sure.”

“How’s Dee?”

“She’s fine, thanks.”

“She’s a mighty fine woman, you’re very fortunate.”

“I know that Jake.”

“You must be missing her.”

“Yeah, but she’s coming back in a week or so. She dropped everything to come over with me. In the four weeks she’s been here, she’s finished her novel and completed some real fine paintings, so she now needs to go home to sort out some affairs.”

“Where are you going to settle down, here or in Europe?”

“We’ve talked about it a lot. She’s more than happy to make the ranch our home, as long as we can go back to the old country every now and again. She has a real fine cottage there, which she’s reluctant to part with, and I have to admit, I fell in love with that little part of old England. She also has family over there, like her son and daughter and grand-daughter, so we’ll probably spend summers over there. Besides, she told me that winter in England is not the best place to be unless you’re a duck.”

Jake laughed.

“Yeah, I heard that. My cousin was over on the west coast of Scotland in the navy some years back, and he told me that it gets so wet, one develops webbed feet. When’s the wedding?”

“After I retire, so that depends on you.”

“Okay, we’ve written to the applicants, so we should be interviewing them in the first week of December.”

“That’s fine. We can hand over in January or February, depending on how much notice their current employer needs, so it should work out just fine. Looks like a spring wedding.”
 
 
I left his office feeling pleased to have now some degree of certainty about the future. However, I was missing Dee more than I ever thought possible. The ranch was feeling empty again, but in a different way. After Sally died, the emptiness was dark and soulless. It was like the light had been turned out and I was walking in permanent gloom.

Now, the light had been left on. I saw evidence of Dee all over the place, her clothes in the wardrobe, her boots stood by the door and the flowers she’d left in vases and pots all over the house were constant reminders that she was coming back.

I understood that she needed to get back home to sort things out. Plus, the time gave me ample opportunity to do those chores that I had been putting off for too long, but I still missed her.
 
 
I spent some of my time researching transsexuality. My experience in this matter was precisely nil. I knew that it happened, so to speak, but had little experience in dealing with anyone with gender disorders. Apart from a lot of off-taste humour, in which the transgendered were often the butts of a myriad of jokes, my experience had been as a young cop, working the streets and dealing with drunken transvestites and fights in gay bars. I’d come across a few young girls who had been boys. Forced into a life of prostitution and drugs by the high costs of surgery and drugs, and often compounded by the rejection they faced from their supposedly loving families. Many were HIV or Hep B infected, hooked onto heroin by their pimps and forced to work their asses off (literally) in order to survive, let alone afford the surgery they so desperately wanted.

I found a wealth of information on the Internet, in fact there was almost too much. I found the personal accounts the most moving, particularly when they expressed the anguish and torment they went through in living every day lives in the body they clearly never identified with. It was a testament to Dee’s fortitude that she managed to put her real feelings aside for so long. In a way she was one of the fortunate, as her family had stuck by her and she had accumulated sufficient capital to afford the high costs of transitioning. Nevertheless it was still a tough decision followed by a gruelling experience.

It made me examine myself. We take so much for granted, so that unless we are faced with other’s difficulties, we never really have any idea what it must feel like for them. The world likes categorising people into boxes, but if someone doesn’t fit, it is so hard for them to live a normal life. The mental anguish, the physical hardships and pain that these people experienced, just to attempt to bring some sense of balance and rightness to their lives is a real example of courage and sheer guts.
 
 
On returning to my office, I looked over the résumés of the applicants for my job. They were all good men, or to be precise, four good men and one good woman. I was pleased to see my old colleague, Lieutenant Lewis Grant, had applied. He’d do well here, as long as his wife appreciated the slower pace of life. I didn’t have any knowledge of the others, so I knew I’d have to work hard to remain objective.

I found that I was anxious for the time to pass now, whereas, a few weeks ago, I cared about very little. As each day was a struggle to get through, my only goal was to exist in the present with little thought of the future. I was looking forward again, and it was a very pleasant feeling.

I glanced at my watch, trying to imagine what time it was in England and so what Dee was up to. It was almost nine, so that made it around midnight in the UK. I toyed with calling her, just to hear her voice.

My phone rang instead. I answered it.

“Chief of Police.”

“Hi lover, how are you?”

I grinned in spite of myself. “Hi honey. I was just thinking about you. I was about to call you, but thought you’d be in bed.”

“I hate going to bed without you, so I tend to stay up until I’m so tired I just fall asleep immediately. I miss you, what are you doing?” she asked.

“Thinking about you. I was just looking through all the applicants for my job and it got me thinking.”

“What about?”

“You. Where shall we go for our honeymoon?”

“I don’t care, really. I miss you so much.”

“When are you coming back?”

“Hopefully, in a few days. I’ve sorted out someone to check on the house. I thought about selling it, but then again, realised that it might be worth hanging onto. If we come over, it would be nice to have our own little bit of peace and quiet, so we’re not beholden to anyone. I adore staying with my kids, but I am too aware they have their own lives to lead.”

“How’re things going?” I asked.

“Good. I’ve given my manuscript to my publisher, so that’s now taken care of. I’m just getting my legal documents cleared, as there’s a case that’s just gone through the European courts that might be very important.”

“Oh yes?”

“It was brought by a TS who was trying to have her new gender legally recognised by the government for marriage purposes. She was successful, so I’ve applied for a Gender Recognition Certificate by sending in all the doctors’ certificates and reports. I had to pay a fee, but if successful, I can get a new birth certificate stating that I’m female, which will make getting married so much easier.”

“Okay, when will you know for sure?”

“I’m not sure, hopefully in a few days, but it will save another visit or loads of letters.”

“Does that mean we’ll have to get married in the UK?”

“I don’t think so. As I will have a new birth certificate telling whoever is interested that I’m female, I guess all I need is my passport, the certificate and the necessary licence.”

“How are the kids?” I asked, changing the subject.

“Fine, or at least I think they’re fine. I’ve seen Sarah and the baby, and they’re doing brilliantly. I can’t believe how big Amy has got. Not seeing her for a few weeks makes such a difference at this stage. The boys, on the other hand, are far too busy to come and see me. I’ve spoken to them, and they tell me they’re fine. Stephen is off to the Middle East, so I’m a bit concerned about him.”

“Such is a mother’s prerogative, but I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

“How are the girls?” she asked.

“They’re good too. Annie was nagging me to make sure you get your Stephen over here soon.”

“Can you imagine how complicated things would get if those two got together?”

“I don’t have a problem with it, unless you do?”

“Annie is a sweetie, but I don’t believe in forcing these things. I don’t think she’d appreciate being a Royal Marine officer’s wife.”

“Maybe, still, it isn’t our problem. We all have the right to make mistakes. Mom was wondering if we’ve set a date yet.”

“Have we?” she asked, making me chuckle.

“Well, if all goes to plan, I’ll be free in January or February by the latest, so how about in the spring?”

“That sounds fine. It would be good if we can get a day when Jon has finished his studies at Oxford.”

“Okay, how about the Easter break?”

“Yes, that’ll do.”

“Have you given any more thought to where you want to get married?” I asked.

“Not really, I have to admit to being more concerned over these silly legal complications. Do you have a preference?”

“Heck no, I just want a day to remember and one in which you will be happy.”

“You are so sweet, John, I don’t really care either, I just want it to happen!”

“Me too, but you know how moms are.”

“I do, and in a way I’d adore it for my mother to be still alive, but I suppose it’s best she isn’t. I’m not sure how she, or my dad if it comes to that, would take to the new me. I know your mother would not be keen to take a trans-Atlantic flight, so maybe we could marry there?”

“I’d like it, but I want you to be happy.”

“Oh, you big idiot. I don’t give a proverbial where I get married, or even if I do. I just want to be with you forever!”

“Sorry, babe, that I can’t arrange. How about till one of us kicks the bucket?”

She chuckled on the other end of the phone.

“Deal,” she said, still chuckling.

“John?”

“Yeah?”

“How about we get married on the ranch, is that possible?”

“You’d like that?” I asked, feeling inordinately pleased.

“Very much. It keeps it private, so just close friends and family, as well as keeping the cost down. It sounds a bit odd, but I think Sally would have liked that as well.”

I felt some tears come to my eyes. I was lost for words for a moment.

“John?”

“I’m here, Hun. I’d like that too. I’ll make the arrangements.”

“Thanks, but don’t if it’s not what you want. I just think it would be fun with all the family around. I’m also very conscious that I don’t want to make waves and instigate any press interest that would create a scandal.”

“Don’t you worry none, we’ll keep it tight.”

“Oh, and my publisher is keen to get my latest novel into print, as she says it’s just the sort of stuff that sells well at the moment.”

It was my turn to laugh.

“You want to keep things low key? I suppose being a best selling author isn’t low key?” I asked.

“Hell, John, getting a book into print is a far cry from being a best selling author.”

“I have hopes for you.”

“Thanks. It means a lot to me.”

“Look, I’d better get some work done. Hurry back to me, okay?”

“I will. I love you so much, John.”

“Me too,” I said, partly embarrassed at saying such mushy stuff on the telephone and partly please I had someone to say it to.
 
 
The rest of the day was an anticlimax. I had a couple of meetings to attend, and there were some decisions to be made concerning replacement equipment. At around three in the afternoon, I received a call from my old buddy Lewis Grant.

“Hi, John, how’s it going?”

“Fine. I see you’ve applied for my job. Will Lara go for the change?”

“Hell, John, Lara’s the one who told me to apply. I think she’s sick of the big city and she hankers after the kind of life she saw you and Sally had.”

There was a moment’s silence as it dawned on Lewis what he’d said.

“Heck, John, I’m sorry, I didn’t think.”

“Hey, don’t worry. I’m past that, and I’m pleased for both of you. Just so you know, I’ve met someone else and we’re planning a spring wedding.”

“You don’t say? Wow, I’m pleased for you both. Do I know the lucky lady?”

“I doubt it very much, unless you’ve spent a lot of time in England.”

“England? How?”

“I went over with Ed in the summer to track down some family tree. We found her living in a cottage that our great, great something may have lived in at one time. We got together and, well, sorta stuck.”

“That’s great. How have the girls taken the news?”

“Great, they’ve met her and they all seem to get along fine. Even my mom approves.”

“That’s something. No, seriously, I’m pleased for you, man; I know how hard you found things after Sally’s death.”

“Well, things are better now. Why did you call, Lewis? I’m sure it wasn’t for idle chat.”

“I was wondering, how many applicants you got?”

“Five. You and four others; one woman and four guys.”

“Who are the others?”

“I don’t know them, but as I’m on the board, I’m not sure I should talk about it.”

“You on the board? Great. I mean, okay, good, that helps me. I think. Or then maybe it doesn’t. Shit, I don’t know what I mean.”

I laughed, for he was clearly at a loss.

“Lewis, if it was only up to me, you’d have the job, but it isn’t and we have to do this properly. Besides, the others seem to have all the necessary qualifications and experience, so we have to do what’s best for the department.”

“Okay, point taken. Is there any specific area I need to take a look at?”

“Most of the crap I deal with has to do with managing the budget and dealing with idiots who think they own me.”

He laughed again.

“Right, point taken. Is Pete Collins still your number two?”

“Yeah, and he’ll stay on a while until whoever gets the job has their feet under the desk. He’s planning on retiring after a couple of months, so the new chief can either promote from within the department or bring someone in like I did.”

“Is there anyone in the department up to that standard?”

“A couple come to mind. Steven Gunn is a good man, and a couple of the others will be there in a year or so. I’ll send you last years departmental report. It’ll have all the facts, figures and trends that will help you. I’ll be sending them to anyone else that asks. Okay?””

“Okay. That sounds good, thanks John.”

“No problem, and good luck.”
 
 
It was a quiet day, so I left work around four thirty and drove home. I’d driven this route countless times, and for many over the last couple of years, it had been a depressing experience. Now, however, I had everything to look forward to.

Life was good again.
 
 

*          *          *
 
End of Part 6
 
 
To Be Continued...

 
David buries his wife after she loses her fight against cancer. He is nearly 50, and their children are now grown up, so he breaks the news that he is going to undertake that which he wanted to do for as long as he could remember — a sex change. He had struggled with his transsexuality all his life, but his love for his wife and respect for her meant he just played the hand that he had been dealt, up to now, that is.

Meanwhile, in the USA, grizzled Police Chief John Collingwood comes to near breaking point. Stressed from his job, his grief over his dead wife, and the despair of near alcoholism, he embarks on a trip to the UK with his brother to seek out his family tree.

Two very different people find a very different future, they also find each other...

but will it work?

---

---

 
The Legal Stuff: A Girl Can But Dream  © 2006,2009,2010 Tanya Allan
 
This work is the property of the author, and the author retains full copyright, in relation to printed material, whether on paper or electronically. Any adaptation of the whole or part of the material for broadcast by radio, TV, or for stage plays or film, is the right of the author unless negotiated through legal contract. Permission is granted for it to be copied and read by individuals, and for no other purpose. Any commercial use by anyone other than the author is strictly prohibited, and may only be posted to free sites with the express permission of the author.
 
This work is fictitious, and any similarities to any persons, alive or dead, are purely coincidental. Mention is made of persons in public life only for the purposes of realism, and for that reason alone. Certain licence is taken in respect of medical procedures, terms and conditions, and the author does not claim to be the fount of all knowledge.
 
The author accepts the right of the individual to hold his/her (or whatever) own political, religious and social views, and there is no intention to deliberately offend anyone. If you wish to take offence, that is your problem.
 
This is only a story, and it contains adult material, which includes sex and intimate descriptive details pertaining to genitalia. If this is likely to offend, then don’t read it.
 
Please enjoy.
Tanya
 
 

 
 
 
Chapter 13
 
 

DEE

The days stretched into a week and then some, much to my frustration. November arrived with gales and heavy rain; just by way of a change.

I had done everything that I needed to do, but the wheels of medical/legal bureaucracy grind along so damn slowly!

Finally, better very late than never, the certificate of gender recognition arrived on November 18th. I was now free to apply for my birth certificate to be changed in line with my accepted gender. I sent everything off, hoping that now I was almost in the clear.

I called John every day, sometimes twice. He was busy, or so he told me, both at work and on the ranch. He told me that the board for his replacement was due to be held in a week, so that was a relief. He had to review how the department did things, so as to make the handover as easy as it could be. He had been there so long that the department ran itself. With him, and then Steve leaving, he knew that he would have to ensure that the working systems and practices were logged and enforced by standing orders.

His leaving was not popular with those in the department, or even the town folk generally. He had made an enormous impression on the place and would be sorely missed.

“I pity the poor person who takes over from you. You’ll be a tough act to follow,” I told him on the last occasion we spoke.

“We’re holding the appointment interviews next week, and whoever gets the job will be just fine. I’m not as great as people think I am,” he said.

“Yes, you are, actually,” I said.

He chuckled.

“You’re biased.”

“Yes, but then so is everyone else.”

“I give up. So, what’s happening on your end; any chance of seeing you soon?” he asked. He was as fed up with me not being with him as was I.

“Well, you know that I finally sent off all my applications and should hear in the next few days. I had no idea how slowly these things take, it’s maddening! I’ve hung on because I don’t want to come back if there’s a problem. Oh, and I finally heard from my Stephen. He got my letter and managed to get to a phone. He was very surprised at our engagement, but I think he was pleased. He had loads of questions for me, and says he wants to meet you and the girls. The ship he was on redeployed to the Gulf in the middle of October.”

“That doesn’t surprise me. Saddam is making all kinds of noises. I just hope there’s not another conflict out there. George W Bush has just formed a new federal department called the Department of Homeland Security. I guess the full legacy of 9/11 has taken time to filter through to the top.” John said.

“Is there likely to be another war?”

I imagined John shrugging. My God, how I missed him!

“Hell, I hope not, but I get the feeling that George W won’t rest until Saddam is ousted.”

I felt immediately uneasy for my son.

“I spoke to Sarah yesterday and she wants to know what our plans are for Christmas.”

“Have we got any?” he asked.

“Not that I know of, but Charles’ parents have asked them to join them for the holidays. Sarah didn’t want to commit until she knew that I was not going to be all on my own.”

“Do you have a burning desire to be with your kids?” he asked.

“I’d love to be with them, but I’m sensitive to the potential awkwardness of my situation with the extended family and other friends. Charles is quite keen for them to be with his parents, so I feel that would be right. Perhaps we could have them over New Year, or something?”

“Well, that sounds great. My girls have asked to make sure you’re with us in the States over the holidays.”

“I haven’t spoken to Jon, but he was muttering that Sophie wanted him to join her family this Christmas. I don’t blame him really, as
the last couple have been pretty gruesome for one reason or another.”

“I guess the Marine won’t be able to join us, then?”

“I doubt it, but you never know. Has Annie been badgering you about him?”

He chuckled his assent.

“She’s a minx,” I said.

“So, when are you coming back?”

“Soon, I hope. The weather here is foul at the moment. I called the help-desk yesterday about my birth certificate, and they said the application has been approved and it just needs to be sent through to the department for recording the details and printing off the copies for me. Once I get them, I’m free of the red-tape.”

“How about the book; many sales?” he asked.

“Respectable but not earth shattering. My publisher is planning a pre-Christmas advertising splurge so we’ll have to wait and see.”

“They don’t need you for that?”

“No, not that they told me, anyway.”

We hung up, reluctantly, as always. I loved Dorset, but found it quite remote in bad weather. It was a long way to go anywhere, and all my family were spread out. I missed them, but I missed John dreadfully.

In my solitude, I busied myself by writing a lot and painting a little. I found myself talking to Delia a lot more these days. I sensed that she was happy for me. I missed her more than ever, but knew that the big hole she left in my life would never be filled the same way. I began to learn to live with the hole and cherished the memories I retained.

For the first time in my life, I found that I was able to concentrate for several hours at a time without being distracted.

Previously I had been terrible, unable to concentrate very long doing anything. The slightest thing would distract me, and I’d be off at a tangent.

Writing was like that. Once I settled down to write, I found the stories wrote themselves. I often didn’t know what the characters were going to do until they did it. I had no idea regarding plots, sub-plots or anything, but the chapters seemed to pile up.
I wrote some Christmas cards to friends and family. Many had not heard from me, and I had to choose carefully who to send a card, particularly as I signed them, ‘Dee Cartwright’.

The few friends I had in the area asked me round for coffee, tea and the occasional meal. None had met John, so, although pleased that I had found someone quite quickly, were not able to relate completely to my situation.

At the end of November, I travelled up to stay for a while with Sarah, as she was feeling guilty that she was going to her parents-in-law for Christmas.

I spent a lovely two weeks with them, appreciating the valuable time spent with my granddaughter, who now called me Gan-gan. I felt I’d arrived! Charles’ mother was called Granny, and so I was quite pleased not to have that name.

Jon and Sophie popped down from university for a weekend on my return to Dorset, and so we discussed Christmas. I stated that I was intending to spend it with John in the States, but everyone was welcome to come and visit for New Year if they wanted to. Sarah and Charles couldn’t due to work commitments and social engagements, but I left Jon and Sophie mulling it over. I told them I’d pay, so that was a little incentive.

Sophie was still uncertain about me, so on one of the less unpleasant days, I took the opportunity to go for a walk with her.
I was able to share a little of my history and asked her what she felt about it.

“When Jon told me, I’m not sure what I thought. Then, when I met you, I thought he was joking, and I still find it hard to imagine you were ever a man. I’m not that knowledgeable about sex-change and gender confusion, so I’m not sure what I expected. It certainly wasn’t what I found when we met. My parents are, how best can I put this? They’re rather fundamental Christian and don’t really accept things like this easily. I told them that Jon lost one parent to cancer and there’s only you now. I’m sorry, but I just find it easier to not tell the whole truth.”

“Will you ever tell them?”

“I don’t know. I love Jon to bits, and it’s not an issue with us. My parents saw that photo of you and, well, they assumed you were his mother and I didn’t correct that assumption. I don’t see much of them, as we sort of fell out a few years back. I’m going for Christmas more for my sister than anything. She’s in her last year of school and doesn’t want to be alone with them. To be totally honest, and I’d hate for you to think badly of me for this, but I would rather be with you and Jon than my own parents. I think you’ve been amazingly brave and I admire what you’ve done. Very few people can be as true to their feelings as have you.”

“Brave or very stupid,” I said.

“No, not stupid; for anyone can see that this is who you should always have been.”

Sophie and I became friends after that. I hoped they’d both come visit me in America.

Then, when I had convinced myself that they’d forgotten about me, a large buff envelope plopped through my letterbox.

I was now legally and officially Ms. Deborah Cartwright – Female, with a birth certificate to prove it.

I was on the phone to the travel agent within minutes, arranging my flight for Phoenix.

However, it wasn’t to be, not as quickly as that, at any rate. I had hoped to get a flight within a few days, but there was nothing for a week. Then, just to cap it all, I received a very rare phone call from my son Stephen.

“Hi Dee,” he said.

“Steve, how wonderful. Where are you?”

“Portsmouth.”

That stunned me.

“I thought you were in the Gulf?”

“I was, but the ship we were on had to return. We’re being re-equipped and undergoing some training. I’ve some leave coming up
in a couple of weeks, so hoped you might be around.”

“Not over Christmas?” I asked, with my heart sinking.

“Might be. Have you any plans?”

“I was about to fly back to the States. I’m spending Christmas with John and the girls. I’d love it if you could come out and stay with us for a while. I asked Sarah and Jon but they’ve made other arrangements.”

“Cool, look, I’m not sure of the dates yet, so if I could check and get back to you in a day or so?”

“I had hoped to fly back this week, but the earliest flight I could book is next week; Monday or Tuesday. You can’t get back to me sooner, can you?”

“I’ll try. Are you sure they’d be happy with me tagging along?”

“They’d love it, the girls in particular. They’re all dying to meet you.”

He chuckled on the other end of the line.

“This is bloody surreal,” he said. “I mean, two years ago I thought I had the most ordinary and boringly standard family in the world, and now I’m talking to my dad, who is now a woman, about spending time with her new husband-to-be and his family. It’s not something I could discuss in the mess, right?”

“I’m sorry; I never intended to cause you so much grief.”

“Oh, don’t be daft, Dee, it’s not grief, but you have to admit it’s a bit bloody odd,” he said.

He had such a refreshing attitude. I possessed so many hang-ups over my own status, but he seemed very matter-of-fact about it all. He wasn’t about to shout things out from the rooftops, but he was able to share things with people he trusted, and it appeared that they were equally accepting and not phased by things as was my generation.

He rang me later that same day to tell me that he would be able to join me and had been granted leave over Christmas.

“I have to be back with my unit on the 6th of January,” he said.

I was over-the-moon until he explained.

“There is a feeling that we might be busy come the spring, so we’ve all been granted leave. Our colonel thinks that we might well be going up against Saddam and Iraq,” he told me.

That reinforced what John and I had discussed. I feared for Stephen once more.

“Oh, don’t worry, mum, I’ll be fine.”

It was such a little slip, but it hit me hard. I started to cry, and for the life of me, I’m not sure why.

Misinterpreting my tears, he reinforced his impregnability.

“I really will be fine, so don’t worry about me.”

“Steve, you daft brush, I’m not that worried about you. It’s what you called me.”

“Huh?”

“You called me mum.”

“I did?”

“You did.”

“Well, that’s because you’re behaving like one. It’s not so bad, is it?”

“No, it’s not. I think I’m happy.”

“Besides, one of the chaps saw your photo the other day and assumed you were my mum. He said that he thought you looked hot,
for an old bird, that is.”

“He did?” I asked. It was strange, because I knew to what photograph he referred, and it was a copy of the same one that Sophie had mentioned.

Stephen chuckled on the other end of the phone.

“I didn’t enlighten him, as he’s as daft as a brush in any case. That would send him over the top.”

“Thanks a bunch!”

I booked us two tickets for Phoenix; a return for Stephen and an open-ended one for me.

The following days went too slowly. I told John that evening when he rang. I asked him not to tell Annie or Jenny that Stephen was accompanying me. I also told him that I’d booked Stephen a return on the 4th January, to give him a day or so to get things together before reporting back.

“I want to surprise them,” I said.

“You’ll do that all right,” he said, laughing.

“I’ve booked for Tuesday the seventeenth, on the same British Airways flight as the last time. Can you meet me?”
“Do bears dump in the woods?”

I laughed, feeling so happy to be heading back to him.

We spent some time in idle chit chat, but then I remembered that the interviews were over.

“Who got the job?”

“My old buddy Lewis. He was the best of the bunch, just. There were a couple who were close.”

“Are you pleased?”

“Yes, I guess I am. He’s a known quantity and I trust him. The others were good, but lacked the breadth of experience that Lewis possessed. It was a unanimous decision, I’m pleased to say.”

“So, when does he start?”

“He has to give his department three month’s notice. I said I’m willing to hang on for the handover on April the 1st.”

“That sounds fine to me. Are you sure you want to do this?” I asked.

“Do bears….?”

I laughed.

On Friday, I sent off two manuscripts to my publisher, hoping that she might just look favourably at them. I liked them, but then I was biased.

Stephen arrived in a spray of gravel on the Saturday evening, leaving his battered old Ford on my drive. I hoped the local police
wouldn’t think it was an abandoned stolen vehicle.

We spent a very pleasant weekend, heading off to the New Inn for dinner. The landlord and his wife knew me quite well by now, as I often popped in for a light bite when feeling particularly lazy. There was an enormous Christmas tree in the corner and a roaring fire in the grate. It was quite busy, despite the absence of tourists.

They’d decorated the place very nicely, reminding me that Christmas was only a few weeks away. I had done nothing at home, except put up a few Christmas cards that a few people had sent. When Delia and I had been together, we’d often get over a hundred and fifty cards. I think I had about twenty, and most of them were from family.

“Evening, Missus Cartwright; this your son, then?” the landlord asked as we entered.

“Yes, it is.”

“Nice to see you, young man. Up with your mum for Christmas, then?”

Stephen glanced at the various bits of military memorabilia behind the bar, as he greeted the man.

“No, actually, mum and I are off to the States for Christmas, as she’s off to be with her husband to be. I’ve a couple of weeks leave so I thought I’d go too, but then I’ve got to report back just after New Year.”

“In the army, then?”

“No, Royal Marines,” Stephen said with a grin. “You?”

“Royal Green Jackets; rather too long ago, now,” the man said, patting his belly and smiling at the camaraderie of both being servicemen.

He poured Stephen a pint of beer, and me a glass of Pinot Grigio.

“On the house, Missus Cartwright, as we have to look after our servicemen, don’t we?”

We enjoyed our meal, sitting near the fire under the smoke darkened beams.

“This is a bit weird, I have to admit,” he said, smiling.

“I’m sorry. I knew it would have its difficult moments, but in all honesty, I had no idea what would happen at all.”

He glanced round at the other patrons; none of whom paid us the slightest notice.

“You’ve landed on your feet here,” he said.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, had you stayed up at home, our old home, I mean, it would have been hard to just start out from fresh. You are what you look like, so no one bats an eye.”

“That was the whole intention.”

“Well, you look good, I have to be honest, I was never sure what you’d end up like. It scared me a little, on your behalf, as I know
how cruel people can be.”

“Thanks, but I’m fine.”

“I can see that. But I’m still not sure I can get my head round you getting married to a man. I know, it’s perfectly natural, but you’re my dad, for Pete’s sake.”

“I’m sorry,” I repeated.

He waved it away as being of little consequence.

“So, what’s Arizona like?” he asked.

“Different as you could imagine. Dry and hot, or it was when I was last there. I understand it can get quite cold at night at this time of year.”

“Tell me again how you two met,” he asked.

So, we sat and talked. It was about the first time we had talked properly for years.

“It’s daft,” he said. “But I can see mum in just about everything you do. It’s like you’ve taken over all her mannerisms and speech patterns.”

I smiled.

“It was a mantra for me as I went through the transition – ‘How would Delia do this?’. I found that I had her so close in my mind’s eye all the time. I almost feel that I’m living her life as well.”

“Well, if I didn’t know, I wouldn’t be able to tell that you had once been my dad.”

“I still am your dad. You can’t take that away from me.”

“No, Dee, you were my dad. I think you’re more my mum now; if that’s all right with you?”

I cried again, as that was about the nicest thing he could have said to me. That night, after I’d gone to bed, I lay awake for a long time, thinking about Delia and how she would have reacted to what I had undergone. I still sensed she was almost watching and looking after me with helpful hints from beyond the grave.

In the end, we arranged a taxi to take us to the airport, as it was cheaper than the long-stay car park.

Chapter Fourteen

John

“When is Dee coming back?” Jenny asked, as she walked into the kitchen with a box of Christmas decorations.

Both girls were over for the holidays and were planning to festoon the house with all the decorations and then some, just like their mom had always done. Last year I hadn’t bothered, and there had been an air of despair hanging over the ranch. We had all moped around, with me drinking too much and wallowing in a pool of self-pity.

Annie was delayed as she and her boyfriend, Matt, were staying a couple of nights with Matt’s parents before Christmas. Her boyfriend was planning to be with us for Christmas Eve and up to New Years, so it would be good to have a full house.

“I’m going to pick her up from the airport later today,” I said, trying to control my excitement. I really had not felt such feelings of anticipation for years, and I almost felt ashamed of myself. It was an alien experience.

“Cool, can I come?”

“Sure, if you want to. But it’s no big deal,” I said, casually.

Then she frowned.

“What?” I asked.

“Oh, it just occurred to me, Daddy; you guys may want to be alone. After all, you haven’t seen each other for weeks, have you?”

I laughed.

“Honey, we’re not kids, so I think we can resist tearing each other’s clothes off until after we get home.”

Jenny chuckled, looking at the box in her hands.

“Do you think she’d rather come home to a decorated home, or help decorate it?” she asked, looking around.

I was interested that she used the expression – ‘come home’ in respect of Dee, as if this was now her home. I had to swallow and look away.

“I have no idea. I guess she’d be happy with both. Why don’t you do some and leave the tree so you can do it together?”

“Okay. Do you think she’s sad at not being with her kids and grand-daughter this Christmas?”

“Yeah, she is, a little. But they’ve all got their lives to lead, and she spent two weeks with little Amy a while ago, so I guess she’s fine with it.”

“It must be a worry with a son in the marines; what with the chance of getting killed in the Middle East.”

“Yeah, I guess it must be. But, hey, she says that she’s proud of him, so she’s pleased that he’s doing what he wants to do.”

She emptied the box onto the living room floor, so I went to my study to catch up on the department standing orders. They had not been updated since God knows when.

A little while later, I checked my watch again, for the thousandth time in a short spell.

“We go in ten minutes!” I shouted.

It was nice having Jenny with me on the drive to the airport. Two hours didn’t seem all that long, except for today, as I so wanted to see Dee again. I never thought it could be possible to miss someone as much as I missed her.

Jenny kept up a constant stream of chatter, which made me join in. It helped the time pass.

I pulled off the Papago Freeway and drove to the parking lot for Terminal Four. The airport is simply designed, with the four terminals in a line between the Papago to the Expressway. The parking lots are in the centre, with the terminal buildings either side.

After parking the pickup, we walked into the terminal to await the BA flight. I checked the monitor to see it was ahead of schedule by around ten minutes. That meant it had already landed, so we sat to wait for the baggage to be unloaded.

“Daddy, do you want a coffee?” Jenny asked.

“Sure, we might as well. I reckon we’ve about half an hour before she gets through.”

We sat at a small coffee stall, from where I could see the arrivals.

“She means a lot to you, eh daddy?”

I nodded, looking down into my coffee cup.

It was hard to understand, when I looked at it rationally. By all that was sane and logical, I should have never have allowed things to get this far. But sanity and logic had nothing to do with feelings. Dee understood me better than anyone I knew, and yet, if I was honest, we hardly knew each other.

She possessed a past that neither of us really wanted to think about, but we were living for the now and as many tomorrows as were left us.

In the past Sally was dead, as was Delia. In the past there was a man called David who, by all the evidence, was as dead as Sally and Delia.

Dee and I were today people. The past contained stuff that neither of us needed or wanted any more.

Yes, there were memories, some wonderful, some terrible and some in the middle. But that’s all they were – memories. They would stay in the past while we lived for the future.

“Yes, Jen, she does,” I finally answered.

“I’m pleased. She’s really sweet, and well, I know this might sound strange, but I think mom would have approved.”

I smiled, feeling the tears well up as they did whenever I thought of Sally. But they didn’t well up as much as they used to.

“Do you still miss her? Mom, I mean?”

“Oh yes. The hurt is still as strong, but I guess I’ve learned to live with it. Dee helps, in that she takes my mind off the pain whenever she’s with me. The fact she’s been through the same experience helps.”

“So, being without her for these last few weeks was tough, huh?”

I nodded again, glancing at the arriving passengers.

I saw her son first, without knowing who he was. For a moment, I thought I recognised him, and then glanced sideways to see her walking beside him. He pushed the cart containing the baggage while she only had her purse slung on her shoulder.

Then I remembered the photograph of the young Marine officer. He was taller than Dee, and broad. He looked like what he was; strong, fit, and tough-looking and controlled. He wore jeans, hiking boots and a leather jacket, but he still looked military. I smiled, wondering what Jenny’s reaction would be.

Dee looked amazing. She was dressed more for an English winter than for Arizona - in boots, a skirt and blouse with a sweater and navy jacket.

She saw me and simply smiled. That smile said it all. My heart melted and I knew that whatever was in the past would stay there; for she was the person of my future.

“She’s here!” I said, pointing. Jenny looked and waved when she saw her.

“Is that her son?” she asked.

“Yup, that’s Stephen. He got some leave from the Marines, so tagged along. I said I didn’t think anyone would mind.”

“Daddy! You knew and never told me?”

I simply laughed as she punched me on the arm.

“Hi big fella,” Dee said as she came up to me.

“Hi you. You okay?”

“Am now,” she said, kissing me.

Stephen looked embarrassed, which I kinda accepted.

“Stephen, right?” I said, shaking his hand.

“That’s right, sir,”

“Hey, no sirs, okay Stephen? I’m John. Good to meet you at last. I’m pleased that you got some leave. Oh, this is Jenny, my
daughter,” I said, introducing him to her.

“Hi,” he said, giving her a smile that probably melted girl’s hearts across the globe.

“Wow, you’re so like your mom,” she said.

“Not as much as Sarah, my sister. She looks like a clone. I take after…, well, my other parent,” he said, awkwardly.

I guess Jenny assumed that it was all to do with the recent death, so neither Dee nor I enlightened her. That was probably down the line a ways. I changed the subject.

“Good flight?”

“Excellent. It’s the first time I’ve flown Club Class. It pays to fly with Dee, as she’s become a snob and won’t fly economy.”

We walked out to the pickup, where I helped Stephen sling the bags into the back.

“New car?” Dee asked, looking at the pickup. It was a recent acquisition, as I reckon that with retirement and a new wife, a new pickup was in order.

“Yeah, I traded in the old one. This has the bigger cab.”

“I like it. Mind you, the old one was your old friend, wasn’t it?”

I’d had the old pickup for about ten years, so she was right on the button.

I just smiled. That was the great thing with Dee, we didn’t actually need to speak to share our feelings. Somehow, we just knew.

Dee sat up front with me, while Stephen sat in the back with Jenny.

For the first few miles we caught up on news, despite having spoken to each other on the phone everyday, we seemed to have a lot to talk about.

As I drove and talked with Dee, I couldn’t help overhearing the pair in the back running their own conversation, with him asking her more questions than the other way around. I know Jenny was a little shy, but she seemed interested in him enough to ask about his job and stuff.

He was relaxed and easy-going, which was a change from Jenny’s last boyfriend, who was uptight and a real pain in the ass.
I glanced at Dee and she gave me a knowing smile. I knew she was thinking about how to tell Jenny and Annie the truth about her past. I figured that not telling them was never going to be an option.

I just didn’t figure on it happening so fast.

The four of us had a real mellow evening, eating some chilli and tortillas that Maria produced. Dee was only too content to let her do the cooking having been travelling for so long.

At one point in the evening I found myself alone with Stephen drinking beer and watching the fire glow. Dee and Jenny were in the basement, looking at Christmas tree ornaments or something.

“Can I ask you a personal question,” I asked.

“Certainly.”

“How are you doing with everything that’s happening?”

He stared at me for a moment and then looked at the fire, smiling.

“It’s funny, Dee kept asking me and I suppose the answer is fine, now. It didn’t used to be, as when she first told me what was going to happen, it was like a nightmare. I just couldn’t imagine what would make my dad do something like that.”

“I can imagine. I mean, if my dad had come out with it, I think I’d have just laughed thinking he was joshing me.”

“At no time did any of us think it was a joke. On that day, when he called us together and told us, he gave us each a letter that Mum had written before she died. He carried that curse with him all his life and never let on. Never once did any of us get a glimpse of what he must have been feeling. We all thought we had a perfect family, or perhaps as near perfect as we could get. Sure, they had disagreements and rows, but they were always there for us and I know they idolised each other.”

He paused, taking a swig from his bottle.

“I’m afraid that I just went off and did my thing. I’d only just joined my unit, so there was a lot to do. I lost myself in my work and occasionally called Sarah to get the SP of what was happening with da.., with Dee.”

“SP?”

“Sorry, starting price. It’s an expression for getting the low down, or all the updated information.”

“Okay, I’m with you; go on.”

“When I finally met her, you could have knocked me down with a feather. I mean, Dee is not the same person as my dad, no matter what anyone says. It was tough, I saw a counsellor without telling anyone, and she told me that it’s the same as suffering bereavement. Man, I’d just been through my mum’s death, and this was nothing like it. For a start, my dad was gone, but Dee was very much here and.. , put it this way, I even called her ‘mum’ several times.”

“And now she tells you she’s getting married to me. Tough to take in, I guess?”

“Telling me was one thing, but meeting you and seeing how she relates to you is something else altogether. When I thought about it all, it just seemed wrong. But now I’ve seen exactly who and what she is, met you, seen the ranch and can understand everything more clearly; I can see it’s as right as it gets.

“In answer to your question, I’m fine with it; no, I’m better than fine. I’m really thrilled for her that she’s finally the person she always wanted to be, and that she’s so happy. My worry is the world is a cruel, unforgiving place, and others may not want her to find happiness.”

I regarded this young man with new respect. He was no fool and told things the way he saw them.

“That’s my job,” I said. I’ll do my darndest to protect her from whatever shit the world has to offer.”

He grinned at me.

“The problem is you might get as much shit at the same time,” he said.

“Yeah, I figured that, but, hey, I think I can take it.”

Stephen smiled and raised his beer.

“I think you might just, at that,” he said.

We were interrupted by Jenny who was clearly upset or certainly surprised. I immediately knew that Dee had told her.

“Daddy, ….!” she said, standing doing goldfish impressions with her mouth.

“Sit down, honey, it’s fine, I promise.

She sat, looking from me to Stephen and then to me again.

“Dee told you, huh?” I asked.

She nodded.

“Well, I kinda guessed she would. She said she would never let something like that go unsaid. It was part of the deal.”

“What?” she asked.

“She said that if my kids objected, then the whole thing is off. I reluctantly agreed.”

“I don’t object, daddy, but, hey, this is difficult to get my head around. I, I guess I just find it hard to believe.”

Stephen laughed.

“Me too. I couldn’t see my dad in Dee, no matter how hard I tried. I still can’t,” he said.

“She told me she had something she needed to tell me, and no way did I expect that!”

“It blew my mind when she told me. But, do you know, it makes no difference to who she is and what I feel about her. I felt it then and I still feel it,” I said.

“When did she tell you?” she asked.

I smiled, deciding that now was not the time to be entirely honest.

“After a couple of days of first meeting her. I felt something for her and she felt the same way towards me, so before we made asses of ourselves, she told me.”

“That took some guts,” Stephen observed.

“Sure it did. I could have just walked out of there and broken her heart,” I said, recalling that day as if it was yesterday. I then looked at my daughter.

“So, how did she tell you?” I asked.

“We were looking at some decorations and I asked about her last Christmas with her husband. She gave me a little smile and said, ‘Ah, there’s something I’d better tell you.’ Honestly, daddy, I had no idea. I mean, she’s just so… so, shit, I guess she’s just so much a woman!”

Stephen laughed, nodding, while I just smiled.

“She sure is. Even after she told me, I still couldn’t see it.”

“Hell, she was my dad, and I can’t see anything of him left,” Stephen said.

Jenny sat down next to him, placing a hand on his arm.

“It must have been a shock for you, huh?” she said.

I stood and left them to it. If I knew Dee, she was giving us space to talk about the change in circumstances, so I was beginning to worry about her.

I found her in the basement storeroom, kneeling on the floor, holding a teddy bear and crying silently.

“Hey, honey, howya doin’?” I asked.

She reached out to me, so I lowered my bulk onto the floor and held her for a while.

After a while, she got it together and smiled through her tears.

“Sorry, but I find this so hard. I’m just terrified of possible reactions.”

“I know, but as Franklin D. Roosevelt said in his inauguration speech, there’s nothing to fear but fear itself.”

“Yeah, that’s easy for him to say. Honestly, Big Jay, why is it so hard?”

I shrugged.

“I have no idea. I guess when you deal with people who you care about; giving potentially awkward news is always hard to do. Take
your kids, when you told them, was it easy?”

“Hell no, it was simply awful, but I had to do it.”

“That’s because you’re a wonderful person who can’t live a lie or let others believe something is other than it really is. You and I both know that you didn’t have to tell me, or my kids. We would have been content in ignorance.”

“That’s bollocks and you know it. The truth would have come out some time, and the later it comes, the more harm it can do.”

I nodded.

“I guess.”

Two heads popped round the door.

“You guys okay?” Stephen asked.

“Yeah, I was worried. Look Dee, I’m sorry I freaked, but it was kinda surprising and all,” said Jenny, coming up to Dee and giving
her a hug.

“Look, I freaked because I just couldn’t believe it. So, if it’s okay with daddy, it’s okay with me. I guess you don’t want everyone to know, though?”

Dee managed a small laugh.

“Probably not,” she said.

“Seriously, Dee, are you okay?” Stephen asked.

Dee looked at Jenny, who smiled and nodded, and then at me. I gave her a squeeze.

“I think we’re okay,” she said.

While we were here, we all carried the boxes of decorations up for the girls to go through more thoroughly. We had the boxes all
piled on the dining table.

Jenny started to laugh.

“Say, Dee, can I be there when you tell Annie and Matt?” she asked.

“Don’t be cruel, Jen!” I said.

“I just want to see her expression. I know my sister and she’ll be fine with it, particularly if Stephen is here. I mean, who couldn’t be
when he’s around?” she then smiled at Stephen in a way I’d never seen her look at a guy before.

I glanced at the young man in question and noticed he went slightly red. I wondered if some little spark hadn’t affected those two. I looked at Dee and I guess she had noticed too. She smiled at me before answering.

“I will tell her with everyone around, if that’s what you want?”

“You do it whatever way you feel is right, and don’t listen to my harpy daughter,” I said.

“I just need to know that everyone who might be affected by me is okay with my past. I don’t believe in secrets, as, in my limited experience, secrets tend to bring disaster and strife.”

Jenny hugged Dee.

“Hey, I couldn’t tell before I knew, and I can’t tell now, so I’m good.”

Dee wept with relief and joy, hugging her back. I glanced at Stephen and we both looked at each other in that embarrassed way guys do when they don’t really know what to do. Nothing seemed the best course, as within a few moments the girls were going through the box and deciding how best to decorate the tree. The tree that I had yet to acquire, I might add.

Chapter Fifteen

Dee

Oh my God!

It never gets any easier, does it?

I couldn’t sleep.

As I lay in bed that night, next to John, who was snoring for America, I thought about what he had said.

There’s nought to fear but fear itself.

I think it’s been quoted by a lot of people over the years, but it is very true. I was riddled by fear. Every waking moment was etched in the stuff, as I waited for that reporter, or that nosey parker who had done just a little research and had decided to tell the world.
I wasn’t afraid for myself, but my real fear was of others being hurt by my actions, and it was almost crippling.

Jenny had been wonderful. Having determined that I would tell her on the first chance I got, I’d told her in a casual and offhand manner, taking the opportunity when we’d been alone in the basement.

Her initial reaction had been to laugh, as she clearly thought I was joking. When she realised I was serious, she’d freaked in a very little way, as she said.

Stephen’s presence had a lot to do with her acceptance. His gentle acceptance and relaxed manner was infectious. If he was calm, then those around him became calm. He’d make a wonderful officer, I thought.

I hadn’t missed the little non-verbal exchanges that Jenny and he had exchanged. In a way I hoped that they’d get together, but that in itself brought more thoughts and fears.

Shit!

Why was I such a worrier?

My past life was literally like a different life. It was becoming dimmer and dimmer with every passing day, and yet it took very little to bring back the consequences of my decision.

I glanced at the snoring monster who lay beside me in the gloom. In the darkness I smiled, resting a proprietary hand on his shoulder. He mumbled in his sleep.

“You’re snoring!” I admonished, not really expecting my words to do any good.

“Hmph!” he replied, rolling onto his side and, glory be, stopping snoring.

I rolled over so I was behind him, and cuddled him spoon fashion. I took strength from his warmth. He, like Stephen, exuded confidence and strength. I needed all I could get at the moment.

The next few days passed in a haze of laughter and joy. I’d enjoyed many happy Christmases over the years, and this ranked among one of the most wonderful. I was sad that my other children weren’t with us, but understood. Besides, it was more than made up for by Stephen’s unexpected presence and my new family-to-be.

I missed Delia more than I thought I would, but rarely got time enough alone to dwell on the fact. I knew John missed Sally without ever having to raise the subject.

Matt and Annie arrived on Christmas Eve, as expected. I knew that I had to tell them, so gritted my teeth and did so when we were all washing up after the evening meal. Maria had the holidays off, so we all mucked in to cook and do the dishes.
Matt, Stephen and John were doing something manly to avoid the washing up, so that gave me the chance to speak to Annie with just her sister present.

“Annie,” I said. “I told Jenny, so it’s only right that I share something about my past. It’s quite hard for me to tell you, but it’s something that just has to be said.”

She gaped at me as if I was about to announce I was pregnant or something.

“I wasn’t always like this. I was actually born a boy. I transitioned from being a male quite recently, and that isn’t something that I could keep from your family.”

Her jaw dropped further, while Jenny started to snigger, stifling it with her hand.

“That’s a joke, right?”

I shook my head.

“Shit; does Daddy know?”

That was too much for Jenny, who simply collapsed with mirth.

“So, Stephen is still your son, right?”

“Oh yes, only it wasn’t me who gave birth to him.”

She sat on the stool by the breakfast bar, with both hands up to her face.

“Oh my God! Are you sure this isn’t just a joke?”

“I wish it was, but no, I was born a male.”

She shook her head.

“Then someone goofed; coz you are way too feminine to ever have been a proper man.”

I smiled.

“See,” said Jenny. “She’s fine with it as well. I told ya!”

“Seriously, Dee, if you never said anything, I’d have never have guessed, not in a million years,” she said, pausing for a moment.

“Say, why did you tell us; there’s no reason to?”

“There’s every reason to. I told John that unless everyone knew and was okay with my past, I’d not marry him. You see, if this came out in a couple of years, think of the type of shock-waves it could cause. If it comes out now, then everyone who matters already knows.”

“I guess you’ve got a point,” she said, shaking her head and smiling. “Wow, that was a real doozie.”

“You are okay with it, aren’t you Annie?” her sister asked.

“Sure, I think it’s kinda neat, but I still can’t really believe it. You look more like what a woman should look like than most women I know.”

“Thanks, I think,” I said. I then told both girls my story in some detail. They sat with rapt attention until I finished.

“When did Daddy find out?” Annie asked.

“She told him just after they met,” Jenny said.

“Did he freak out?” she asked me.

“Not really. I did though. I was terrified of losing him, but knew I couldn’t let myself fall any further in love with him without him knowing the truth.”

“I bet he said it didn’t matter?”

“Something like that.”

“I mean, this is kinda weird, as you read about stuff like this, and see it on TV, but I never thought it would happen in our family.”

“I’m sorry, Annie. I didn’t mean….”

“Oh, no, Dee, don’t get upset, I just have to get my head around this.”

Jenny giggled again.

“That’s what I said, but it doesn’t take long,” she said.

“When did you find out?” Annie asked Jenny.

“A couple of days ago.”

“Will you tell Matt?” I asked.

“Yeah, but he won’t care a damn.”

“Are you sure?” I asked.

“Yeah. His college friend transitioned in their final year and Matt is still one of the few friends she has from those old days. I had a
thought, is it legal to marry a transgendered person?”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. I’ve done some research, and it is legal in some states over here and some other countries. We’ll find somewhere that is legal and recognised by wherever we settle,” I said.

Jenny looked shocked.

“You mean you’re not going to live here?” she asked.

“I love it here, but I’ve got my home in England. My family is over there, just as John’s is over here. I’m British, so there may be difficulties getting residential status. We just don’t know. Certainly there are no plans not to live here, for at least some of the time. What would be ideal would be to have the summer in England and then when it gets bleak and cold there, come over here for the next six months. There are so many variables that we won’t know for certain for a while.”

“I can’t imagine daddy living anywhere else,” Jenny said.

I picked up the message that was clearly not stated. I needed to reassure her, and her sister if need be, that I was not about to remove her father from her life.

“If it helps, neither can I. I’m not going to force him to do anything. I fully acknowledge that his life is here, with all his friends, his family and his past. I’d love to stay here, but need to be able to go back to England from time to time. To be honest, I need to make a new future, so I’m not as tied to the past as your dad. I think that I’ll be more flexible to moving to a different place than John.”

“Yeah, as Grammy is still around, so he’ll never go far away.”

“I so enjoyed seeing Jean the last time,” I said.

“You’ll see her when we go visit with her for New Years,” said Annie.

“Oh?” I said.

“It’s like a tradition; the whole family gets together to see in the New Year. I think she’s having Christmas with Aunty Pam and our cousins. Then they’ll all take her home and stay so they’ll be there when we go over,” Jenny said.

“Good. That sounds like fun,” I said.

“Um, Dee, were you planning to tell Grammy, Aunty Pam and Ed?” Jenny asked.

“I don’t think so, although, I wouldn’t like for anyone to hear about it from the papers or another outside source.”

“I don’t think it’d be a good idea to tell Grammy. If you tell Pam, she’ll tell the whole world, and I don’t think that’d be a good idea,” said Annie.

“I agree. And Ed wouldn’t be able to get his head round it, so I wouldn’t bother telling him. It’s not like we’re that close to all out cousins, so best they don’t know,” said Jenny.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, what they don’t know won’t hurt.”

I wasn’t happy with the whole secret thing, so mentioned it to John when we were alone in bed later.

“I think the girls are right, Dee. Pam wouldn’t be able to keep it confidential, and Ed would never understand. As for mom, hell, she’s almost ninety and to be honest, she adores you for who you are, not what you once were. I’m not sure she’d understand, in any case. It’s up to you, but I suggest you hold off on any disclosure until absolutely necessary.”

“I’m not desperately happy keeping key members of your family in the dark. Let’s face it; they could be adversely affected by my past.”

“Honey, the past should stay there. If you insist on telling everyone you feel might be adversely affected, you will never stop telling people. Unless you live in a castle and never meet anyone, you’ll make new friends every day. When do you draw a line under your past?”

That shut me up for a while.

“Okay,” I agreed. “I will call it a day with those who know now. But I reserve the right to tell anyone if I feel it is right.”

John smiled, nodding.

“I can’t argue with that. Trust me, Pam doesn’t need to know. She wouldn’t believe it even if she heard it from a reputable source. In fact, no one would. Dee, put the past behind you and accept you’re a great looking woman who looks younger than her years. Not only will most people not believe you’re transgendered, they also won’t believe you’re old enough to be a grandmother.”

“You’re just saying that, I know…”

“No, Dee, this is me speaking. I say what I think and think what I say. Just look forward and forget the past. If it rears its ugly head at some point then we’ll deal with it together, so stop beating yourself up and draw a damn line.”

I’d not heard John sound quite so forceful with me. I wisely shut up at that point. I sat there thinking about all that had been discussed, so was silent for a while.

John broke the silence after a few minutes.

“Not mad at me, huh?” he asked.

“Hmm? No, not at all; I’ve just been thinking about what you and the girls said. You’re probably right, but I think I’m a little neurotic about everything to do with my past.”

“That’s understandable, but let’s face it, our future is not going to have much in common with your past, is it?”

“There are my kids,” I pointed out.

“Like Stephen and Sarah?”

“Yes, but…”

“I’ve met them both and they’re fantastic about it all. Even your son-in-law is pretty damn good, which is amazing really. It says a lot about the person you now are.”

“All right, I surrender. I promise that I will not utter another word about telling anyone.”

“Good, now, as it’s already Christmas morning, can we go to sleep?”

Chuckling, I kissed him goodnight and lay in his arms, blissfully content, for the moment.

Christmas can be a terrible time if your memories overwhelm you. I know several people who can hardly face the season, as they are bombarded by memories of parents or children who are not longer here. One woman I know simply goes to a five star hotel in The Gambia for three weeks. Being a Muslim country, they aren’t into Christmas and she is able to run away from her memories.
My memories were of happy times and a great void. I know I have already mentioned that I missed Delia, but that wasn’t the big one. The big one was actually not someone I had known.

John, Annie and Jenny were all deeply affected by not having Sally present. It wasn’t the first Christmas they’d fought through, but it was the first one with me in the middle, taking her place, so to speak. Perhaps that was why I was over-conscious of her.
In a way it took away some of the pain of my own memories of Delia.

Despite the dark shadows of the past lurking just off centre stage, we all managed to have a lovely Christmas day.

I was awake at seven-thirty, and lay there next to John, listening to him snore and enjoying the warmth of his presence next to me. However, he rolled over and farted, so I decided that if I wanted to keep the romance alive, I needed to get up.

The sun shone down on a very un-Christmassy landscape. It was rare that we experienced a white Christmas in England, but at least it was usually cold, dark and miserable; not sunny and warm.

With Maria off, I made pancakes for breakfast. The aroma seemed to rouse everyone quite quickly, for by nine o’clock, the whole household was in the kitchen, all in different states of dress and quaffing coffee and pancakes, with scrambled eggs, bacon and syrup.

Ten thirty saw us all dressed impeccably and heading for church.

I had never been a great church-goer. Somehow, even when facing Delia’s imminent death, I was reluctant to go to a church that I had never entered, just because I felt vulnerable. Those who filled the pews always appeared to be judgemental and patronising, so I stayed away.

Sitting in the small church alongside my husband-to-be and our respective children gave me immense pleasure. I even wore the dress I’d been wearing on that day we’d met. He said it was his favourite.

I even listened to the words and tried to make sense of them.

John had rarely attended church, either. He told me that as a child his family had attended regularly, but once he joined the police,

Sundays were just another day, and he dropped out of the habit.

“I started going just after Sally died, but found it just too hard,” he said.

But this Christmas we all went, filling one long pew near the front of the small Baptist church. Like all churches, this one filled up from the back, leaving only the front pews free for those who arrived on time, or late.

Some whispering from behind us met our arrival, which I expected. I had been seen sufficiently frequently in town, both with John and alone, for most people to know who I was by now. My neurosis told me it was because I looked like a man dressed as a woman. Common sense told me that it was because I was in the company of two very attractive young women and three good-looking men.

The service was reasonably banal and non-confrontational, which was a good thing. I was not in the mood to soul-search at this moment. Perhaps there would come a time when I considered my spiritual destiny, but it wasn’t now. I had only just got my material life sorted out, for goodness sakes!

At the end of the service, the rather sombre mood of those present evaporated almost immediately, and equally suddenly smiles were switched on and it became a different place. Everyone gathered in the small hall adjacent to the sanctuary for refreshments.
I found myself grasping a mug of coffee and talking to a jolly, rotund woman called Mary about cooking generally, and recipes for Christmas cake in particular. I found out later she was the pastor’s wife and that, once she had discovered that I was a trained chef, she was desperate to get me to come and do some cooking demonstrations for the ladies of the town. I was staggered that they knew so much about me, but then realised that in a small town, news travels fast.

I glanced over to see Stephen and Jenny in a small group of mainly young women. I gathered these were all Jenny’s contemporaries and she possessed more that a slight proprietary air as she introduced Stephen to them.

John leaned in and whispered to me, “Don’t look now, but I think my daughter has just staked her claim.”

“They each could do worse,” I whispered back, to which he chuckled and walked off to speak to someone.

Several people came up to speak to me; all were friendly and each expressed their pleasure at seeing John looking so much better. ‘Back to normal’ was an expression used more than once.

It was inevitable that the pastor took the time to come and speak with me.

Pastor Richard Young was perhaps mid-fifties and almost as rotund as his wife. Dressed in a simple grey suit with a shirt and tie, he looked far less ecclesiastical than most of the Anglican vicars that had presided over those few services I had attended in my past.

He shook me warmly by the hand. His hand was rather fleshy and sweaty; it wasn’t a desperately nice experience.

“I’m so pleased to meet you at last, Miz Cartwright, it’s good to meet someone who’s worked a miracle,” he said, after exchanging pleasantries.

“Please call me Dee. What do you mean by a miracle?” I asked, shocked and surprised.

“Well, it’s a miracle to see John looking as good as he is after all he’s been through. I can tell you, many folks in the town have been praying for such a miracle, and I guess you’re the answer to their prayers.”

Tears and emotion choked me up. It was all I could do to stay in control.

“I don’t think you know how bad things got,” he said.

“I understand it was quite low,” I managed to say.

He leaned in conspiratorially.

“Low don’t even come close, Dee. For all the bluster, some of us knew just how close he came to crumbling. From what I hear, you’ve been though similar experiences, so maybe someone upstairs knew what he was doing putting you together.”
I nodded, unable to say very much.

“I’m sorry to speak of such things at this time of year, but to see him and the girls here, with you and your fine son, well, it makes me thank God for his mysterious ways.”

“He’s helped me just as much as I’ve helped him,” I said.

He smiled and nodded.

“Yup, I figured as much. Just know, Dee, that you and your families are always welcome here.” He smiled to reinforce his words and moved off to speak to someone else.

They were all very friendly, but it was with some relief that we left to return to the ranch.

“Sorry, honey, I guess that was a little heavy,” John said as we drove back.

“Just a bit. It’s not everyday I get accused of being an answer to prayer.”

He chuckled.

“I tell myself that every day, so get used to it. They mean well, but to be honest, I ain’t got much time for their do-goodish ways.”

“I suppose church congregations are similar the world over. I think it’s nice that people were worried about you and were praying. After all, I can’t see you asking for help.”

He chuckled.

“You’re right there.”

“Then perhaps I am an answer to prayer, just as you are for me.”

“Oh, pack it in, you two, you’re making me feel queasy!” said Stephen from the back.

The rest of Christmas flowed beautifully.

I’d cook traditional Christmas fare. I knew they have turkey at Thanksgiving, so went with a goose. It was more sensible as there were only the six of us, so we didn’t want too much leftovers.

It was a fun time, and we all ate too much. After lunch we exchanged gifts and relaxed. Annie must have told Matt, as he came up to me and told me that he’d have never have guessed and he thought it was brilliant the way we had got together.

We all set off for an evening ride, which was fun. I observed that jenny and Stephen seemed to be getting on rather better than two people who had only just met, if you get my meaning.

On the Boxing Day, John invited some friends over to the ranch for an evening barbeque and dancing.

Maria and the girls pushed me out of the kitchen, forcing me to be sociable. I stayed close to John as the few friends turned out to be nearer thirty people.

It was a great evening, with too much beer and laughter. The local country dancing was fun, although I hadn’t a clue what to do or where to go for the most part. Eager hands helped me round and everyone was very forgiving.

Latterly, I sat next to John and watched the younger and fitter dancers keep going, sharing his beer and feeling very much at home.

He placed his arm over my shoulders.

“Happy, hun?”

I simply nodded and smiled.

Last word

John

Although I knew Dee had been indescribably nervous of meeting my mother and the rest of the family, the first time, she was fine this time around.

Mom was getting frail, but was still mentally alert and physically in good shape considering her advanced years. She was going to be eighty-seven soon, so I hoped that meeting Dee would ease her mind a little. I was acutely aware that she worried about me being a cop, so when Sally died, her worries got a whole lot worse.

Dee, Stephen, Jenny and I arrived there for lunch on New Year’s Eve. Matt and Annie were going to head over on the following morning, but were dropping in on his folks for the night. I saw that Ed’s car was already here, as was Pam’s.

Mom had been baking. I could smell it as soon as I opened the car door. The last time we’d been over, Dee had told her about her time as a chef, so Mom was obviously out to show her that we colonialists were as good as the Brits!

Pamela came out to meet us, eager to see Dee again. Dee wore a summer dress and looked very English against our American backdrop. She also looked beautiful and serene, despite feeling so nervous.

Dee knew that she wasn’t alone, as with Stephen and me as protection, she could run and hide behind either of us at any time. Not that Jenny would have been willing to let Stephen out of her sight. It was now very obvious that these two kids had formed an attachment that might become a problem when Stephen flew back to rejoin his unit. Dee and I decided not to bring up the subject unless it was unavoidable.

“Oh my word, you’re so much more English than ever!” Pam gushed on seeing Dee again. She enveloped the reserved Dee in her embrace. Dee smiled at me over my sister’s shoulder.

Mike, Pam’s husband came out as well, with my mother holding his arm.

I went over and gave my mom a hug, taking her from Mike. She looked up into my face and smiled at me.

“You’re looking great, son,” she said.

“I am, Mom, never been better!”

Mom’s face crumpled into a smile with tears. She shook her arm free from mine and embraced Dee as if she was her lost daughter.

Neither of them could say anything.

Both women were crying. Hell, we were all crying! I glanced over to see Stephen had his arm around Jenny, and smiled.

Dee helped Mom into the house, while we carried the various gifts and other things in behind them. Pam’s teenaged kids, Jason and Wayne stood watching as we all seemed to be balling our eyes out.

“What’s up with everyone?” asked Wayne.

“It’s a mom thing,” said their father, wiping his eyes.

We gave Mom and Dee some time alone, while I introduced Stephen to the rest of the family. Actually, I didn’t, as Jenny took that honour, keeping, I noticed, her hand firmly on his arm all the time.

Wayne and Jason looked disinterested until Jenny told them all he was a Marine officer – part of the British elite Green Beret unit.

Then you couldn’t keep them back. Pam came over to me.

“Okay, John, How are you guys?

“Fine, Pam, real good.”

“Is she still the one for you?”

“Absolutely.”

“You’re both looking good. I’m amazed how much better you’re looking.”

“Thanks, we are good.”

“Tell me, John, I’m curious. What with having a son that old, how old is she?”

“Pam, you know better than ask a woman her age.”

“Come on, John!”

“She’s just four years short of me, so a couple of years off fifty.”

“She’s older than me? No way; my God, with a figure like that and that complexion; what’s her secret?”

“You don’t want to know, unless you want to be turned into a toad,” I said, joking.

For a moment she looked horrified, but then smiled.

“Seriously, she is stunning. You look so right together. Her son is a hunk, too. I can see the family resemblance, there’s no doubt as
to who his mother is. Jenny appears to have taken a shine to him.”

“Yup, she sure does.”

“Is that a good thing; what with being a soldier and all?”

“Not a soldier, Pam, he’s a marine. Just like our guys, they’re part of the Navy. Anyway, Jenny has to make her own decisions.
He’s a great guy and, as Dee said to me recently, they could both do a hell of a lot worse.”

“I guess it keeps it in the family. So, when’s the big day, have you decided yet?”

“Who’s big day?”

“Yours, unless there’s going to be one for Jenny as well?”

“As far as I know, she not that quick. Hell, Pam, they only met each other a few days ago.”

“How long did it take you to fall for Dee?” she asked.

“Okay, point taken. Things haven’t changed since the last time we spoke about it. I guess we’ll wait until after I’ve retired. Neither of us wants a big deal, not second time around.”

“Well, don’t hand on too long, Mom isn’t going to be with us forever.”

“We won’t. I retire at the beginning of April, so we might be married by the Summer.”

“Has the department found anyone to replace you?”

“Yeah, they picked an old buddy of mine from Phoenix; Lewis Grant. I don’t think you ever met him.”

“Is he a good man?”

“One of the best. I’ll be happy to hand over to him.”

“Mom has been looking forward to seeing you guys, so much. She’s really taken to Dee. Ever since she came over the last time, she thinks she’s been heaven sent.”

“Yeah, well, she’s not the only one. When we went to church on Christmas, the pastor intimated as much to her.”

Pam laid a hand on my arm.

“Just know, John, it’s great to have you back. We can all look forward now.”

I looked at Dee as she came back out with Mom. Our eyes met and I nodded slowly. We were both free of huge weights that were our pasts. Oh, I was under no illusions that there would not be challenges and difficulties in our future together, but hey, what’s life without some challenges?

“Yup, I reckon we can at that,” I said.

……………….End?

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