CHAPTER 1

Winter mornings could be fun, and pretty, but the A2 was often a nightmare. The Kwak was buzzing away as I finally got past the Whitfield roundabout and I could let it have its head. It’s a long, long straight past Lydden, and just as I was topping the ton I picked up the change in the lights at Husk. Bugger.

I sat there for a little while, the traffic ahead of me lit up brightly by the low sun, for once the side winds that make that straight so hairy in abeyance, and I could just enjoy the ride. My only worry was that while I could see everything ahead of me, and anything behind would see me, the traffic I was catching would have the sun in their mirrors, and that meant I needed to be switched on. I checked carefully for police, nothing in the lay by, nothing behind, and giggled to myself as some boy in a barried-up Corsa pulled up and made it clear he intended to race me from the lights.

Amber, and he was off, fat exhaust pipe waving around in the breeze. Green, and it was as if he was stationary. Second…third…fourth, already at 90, up into fifth and down on the tank as the rev-limiter kicked in and I shot through 130 mph, no junctions to worry about, into sixth and relax, letting it wind down to a nice steady 90 as I took the sweeper to the Bridge exit, on the brakes and flicking the throttle to match the revs as I came off the main road, letting the bike caress me around the bend onto New Dover Road. Brake hard for the roundabout by the Gate Inn, and drop the bike hard left, hard right and left again and up, right foot angled out just slightly on the peg.

Yes! Just a little, but a kiss of tarmac as I grounded the outside of my right boot. Now, though, I was coming into traffic, and it was time to wind my neck in from race mode and get back into staying alive. Past the cinema, I found my way round to the bike parking on Watling Street and started the process. Onto centre stand, and out with the huge plastic coated chain, which I put through the back wheel and frame, over the saddle. Shackle lock through front wheel and forks, and disc lock on the front brake with the little yellow cable to the bars. Switch on the immobiliser and alarm, and remove both panniers. Finally… I took my shades off, pulled off the Shoei helmet, and dragged my hair out from inside my jacket. As I bent down to pick up the panniers, I got the first of the day.

“Nice arse, darlin’! Fancy a ride?”

Women, leathers and motorcycles. What is it with men? I put my shades back on and started the walk round to work. Canterbury, or at least its centre, is a lovely city, but that does mean it gets more than a little overrun with tourists. I kept meaning to get a T-shirt printed: “I am not a tourist, I bloody live here!”

Into Addison’s, my workplace, the biggest chain of chemists in the country, and my life-savers. Quickly to the ladies’ where I stripped off my black two-piece and back protector and wriggled into the skirt and blouse of my uniform. I already had my tights on under the leathers so I just had to haul off my socks and stuff them into my boots before slipping on flats. I do love my heels, and think they flatter my legs, but had learnt years ago that the pain of an eight hour shift on my feet outweighed my vanity. Check the face, touch up the lippy, wipe off the dead fly that was caught on my cheek, and I was ready.

“Morning Alan!” I called out to my boss as I slipped behind the counter

“Morning Sarah. You do know what day it is, don’t you?”

Arse. Today was the day that the new stock came in, and that meant a whole morning, and half of the afternoon, stock checking, delivery note filing…arse indeed. Because it is a pharmacy, by the nature of things the stock delivered is largely drugs, a huge proportion of which are prescription drugs, and a smaller one controlled drugs. For the benefit of those who don’t quite follow, there are over the counter ‘remedies’, medicines prescribed by doctors, some of which are worth a bomb on the black market, and Drugs, with a capital D, such as the heroin substitute methadone. All of the latter two types need accurate and very detailed record keeping, plus secure storage, plus, plus, plus, and it is the most boring day of the week.

I mean, on other days you make up the prescription, looking at the patient. Where exactly do they have the fungal infection that you are treating them for? Where, precisely, has that wart erupted? Is the obese man getting the Viagra through hope or certainty? It gets you through the day.

I buckled down, as the van arrived, and thankfully it was a quiet morning inside so Anne and Suzy were able to give me a hand, and surprisingly we had it all wrapped up by lunchtime. I looked back into the pharmacy to see Andy there, having a cuppa and chatting with Alan.

“Nice of him to give us a hand, girls”

“Nah, he might strain something” said Suzy, “and the only thing he ever works at is shagging”

Anne chortled. “So you wouldn’t, then?”

Suzy looked thoughtful. "I suppose I probably would….if I didn’t have to talk to him afterwards. Or before. Or at all, really. I mean, what’s he got that Ann Summers hasn’t? And you can turn them off!

“What about you, Sar? Would you?”

“Nah, I’m not his type”

How very true that was. I had met his type before, at home, not long after I started living as myself. The chat, the smoothness, the sheer practised ease of the seduction. Then….the shouting, the abuse, the blows, the lies to the police. And after all that, the gossip, the knowing looks, the smirking.

Worse than all of that, almost, had been the curiosity. After Joe, the other smoothy back home, had outed me, I had the slimy stuff, the series of odd men who wanted to know what it was like. What exactly would a shemale be like in bed, wouldn’t it be exciting to fuck a tranny, I’m not gay but the idea of a cock as well is somehow exciting. And the worst, the ones who professed to understand, to sympathise, would you like a coffee, oh I know what you mean, and here’s my bedroom.

Ten years had been unable to take it any further, but for those ten I had at least managed to live as myself, even if it meant crossing two countries for my privacy, even when it meant that I would live and die alone. From Abergwaun to Dover, the UK did not allow a much wider traverse. I hoped it would be enough to leave me some peace, but I also knew that my peace had to mean loneliness.

CHAPTER 2
This is where the Michael Caine moment kicks in, the “My name is…” followed by “not a lot of people know that…” Well, the second part is obviously true, so I should address the first.

My name is Sarah Marie Powell, though you will probably have gathered that I was given a different name at birth. That one was Samuel Michael etc, and as Mr Micklewhite famously says, “not a lot of people know that”, at least not over here.

I was born in Hwlffordd, 40 years ago, and my father was apparently overjoyed to be offered the prospect of someone to train to kick, run and tackle. I was north of The Line, so grew up speaking what is patronisingly called the Language of Heaven, and having to work hard at the other one. All in all very, very Welsh, but I disappointed him deeply. I could go into the long story of my feelings, and the conflicts, and the school beatings, but it is all so dreary that I can’t see you getting anything out of it. I can, however, remember specific stages. The first is a surprisingly clear memory from my childhood, the day when, having already passed the stage of understanding that “All humanity divides into two parts”, I had misread which side of the division I fell on.

It’s funny, going to school. There is one lesson that corporal punishment really helps you learn, and that is how to hide in plain sight. A few slaps from Dad for being too soft, a few more from the ‘other’ boys for being a nancy boy, it all helps the learning process. The trouble is that it doesn’t teach you how to be, but how not to be. I knew what I was, what I am, but I had to keep it tied up and gagged in a back room.

Elaine was my only help back then. I read now of suicides, of health ruined by self-medication, of people damaged beyond recovery, and I bless whatever it was that gave me my sister. She knew me, and although she never, ever seemed to accept who I was she at least tolerated it. No, she did not dress me up, or take me out, or make me her girlfriend; in fact, she once threatened to castrate me if I ever went near her stuff.

It was at least a minute before she realised what had been so funny.

When you live at the arse end of nowhere, when a trip to Ireland is seen as exotic beyond words, you don’t tend to have experienced and friendly shrinks to lead you through life’s horrors. This was what made me treasure my big sister: she listened. She never, ever agreed, but she listened, and she gave me a plan.

It is hard to explain to younger people how fundamentally different the world was only twenty or thirty years ago. No internet, no experience of difference (at least, not knowingly), and as a result not a lot of tolerance. Perhaps things might have been different in the Big City, like Swansea, but certainly not in a shitty little one-jetty ferry port. Elaine’s plan was fundamentally simple and, even without hindsight, blindingly obvious.

Leave. Leave without fanfare, leave under false pretences, but leave. I was 15 when we started to put things together, and I was impressed with how devious she was.

“Sam, I have tried to talk sense into you for years, but you are never listening. I have nightmares about you, dead somewhere for something stupid, and I love you too much for that.”

“So what do I do? Just stay like this?”

“Na, you will already be planning getting all womanised, I’ve given up on that, but what I thought is that it might be safer if you actually learnt something about it before you went buggering your body up.

“Look, you’re too thick to be a doctor, isn’t it?”

“Thank you very much, sister dear. And your arse does look big in that”

“No, listen, Sam, what you are after is drugs, right? So you need to get a job where you can get at drugs, na?”

I really don’t know what she thought it involved, in her parochial small town mind, but she suggested I get a job at the chemist’s and the necessary adjusting drugs would be sitting there on the shelf just waiting to be appropriated for my teenaged use. It was a really, really stupid idea, but in the end it was pure genius. I started to focus on my studies a bit more, enough to get me a place at Aberystwyth doing pharma, and that was the start of my new life.

Oh, how that sounds so, so easy. Grow up, go to college, come right out as transgendered, everyone is lovely and fluffy, they all transitioned happily ever after. What utter crap.

I suppose I had visions of that sort of thing when I went up there, but life is very quick to show you what it is really about. I had drifted into a very solitary way of life, alternating long rides on my bicycle to keep me fit without bulking my top half up, and longer runs on my little 200cc single to let my mind wander without my father’s constant nagging. Aber was far enough away to allow me independence but close enough to allow my possessive mother the illusion that I was just around the corner.

So I rode out one day in September 1988 to Traeth Mawr on my old Raleigh and watched the sun go down behind the Bishop and Clerks, wondering whether I actually had the guts to go through with what I planned, and replying to myself with another question, did I have the guts to keep living a lie?

That was the dilemma, to carry on as a ‘man’ who wasn’t, or to try and become a woman who ‘wasn’t’

College would give me a fresh start, and the more liberal attitudes of an arty University might make it easier to cease pretending. There was another reason, too, and that was the obsession familiar to all teenagers: sex. I have, over the years, read a lot of accounts from or about girls supposedly like me, and they all gloss over one thing, that should be obvious to anyone with half a brain, but apparently isn’t. So here it is:

I am a woman. Full stop, end of story, piss off if you don’t like it. I have known that fact since I was old enough to know when my nappy needed changing. I am also straight, heterosexual, not gay, boring, pick your own term. I was, however, inhabiting the body of a teenaged boy. I was flooded with hormones screaming “I NEED TO FUCK AND I NEED TO FUCK NOW!!!!” so when you add those two together, confused is a word that doesn’t even begin to describe it. I needed to do something with someone, and that something was an activity I was simply not constructed for, and the majority of those my body ached for would have hospitalised me if they ever suspected.

I had times of such utter frustration I just wanted to wade into the Irish Sea and start swimming west until I got too tired to carry on. Elaine was there for me then. She never understood, she never agreed, but she cared, and she loved and she kept me safe. That was why my decision about college was so hard: no Elaine. No big sis to care for me, but I had to take that first step into the water.

So, that October I arrived on my little 200 behind Dad’s car, and unloaded my bike, my books and the clothes he had never seen me pack. I waved him goodbye after removing the helmet and releasing the hair that he claimed was too long, and once in my little cell of a room I stood for an hour trembling before unpacking. No, it isn’t what I may have led readers to suspect, it wasn’t a suitcase full of skirts and underwear, but of a mix of things Elaine had helped me with. I couldn’t dredge up the courage to come straight out, so I had a collection of stuff that would pass as being at the least androgynous. Pastels, soft textures, no flies, if I couldn’t tell people directly who I was it would have to be a case of letting them make assumptions.

That evening was my first test. I took a book and wandered down to the refectory, in a sea of strangers that included a whole mass of freshers, and after loading my tray found myself a seat on a bench that was far enough away from the busier part of the hall to allow me to read as I ate.

“Hi, these seats taken?”

It was a pair of girls, one a brunette well over four feet tall (as she later described herself) and the other a stocky blonde.

“No, I’ve just got here, so I’m on my own”

“Cool! We’re new too, I’m Becky, and this is Joanna, we went to the same school, so it’s better than being complete strangers and…”

Becky could talk, and talk, but it was a delight to hear someone so full of life when I was so comprehensively crapping myself. Joanna got a few words in while Becky rambled, and then she simply put her hand out across the shorter girl’s mouth.

“Pause, sweetheart.”

I noticed Becky kiss her hand, and shut up. So, that was the score. Joanna continued,

“Perhaps now she’s on pause you could introduce yourself. Please be quick, I don’t know how long I can hold her”

“I’m Sa–r, I‘m here to do Pharmacy. From just down the coast”

“Pleased to meet you, Sarah, or is it Sara? We are from Malvern, and I am doing Maths and the short thick one is doing English”

Becky interjected, for the first but not last time, “ I will have you know I am well over four feet tall!”

I couldn’t help it, and started to laugh, and Joanna said, very quietly,

“So, when did you decide you were a girl?”

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And that was the start of college life, and I owe those two a debt beyond possibility of repayment. They weren’t typical of the rest of the student body, and certainly not of the faculty, but they stood by me, behind me, and on a couple of hairy occasions in front of me. They dragged me along to the GLBT group, or the LGBT group as they renamed it, to which I replied “TLGB?”, and with the group’s help, and the friendship of two lovely girls I blossomed into a sort of half-life as ‘that odd thing that wants to be a woman’

That was my protection, I suppose. I wasn’t gay, so the homophobes couldn’t get a focus. I wasn’t attempting to dress up, so the girls couldn’t complain I was trying to trap the lads they were after, and the straight lads couldn’t mutter that I was offering things I couldn’t deliver. With their support, I widened my dress sense, literally, for they had me in dresses every so often, and I was as happy as it is possible for someone like me to be. I had to tone it down when I went home, but with the promise of another term of freedom ahead I could ignore my father, amuse my sister, and survive till life returned.

Then, one day near Christmas of my third year, while Joanna was driving home for the holidays, a foreign lorry driver forgot which side of the road to drive on, and I was alone again.

CHAPTER 3
The two girls had indeed brought me out of myself, and shortly before their loss I invited Elaine up for the weekend. Hall allowed guests for short periods, but they had to be vouched for, signed in, meals paid for, body parts accounted for and waivers signed in triplicate in blood.

Elaine had chosen a very different career path to me by this time, having joined the Dyfed-Powys Constabulary. I warned the girls, and Becky was on form.

“Is she bringing her uniform? I like a girl in uniform! Has she got handcuffs?”

Jo paused her. “You like a girl out of uniform as well, sweetheart”

“In, out, as long as there’s a girl involved……oh, and as long as that girl’s you, of course”

“Keep digging, I’m taking notes. What’s your sister like, Sarah?”

By this time, I was going by Sarah as a general thing. Even the faculty had accepted it, although my official name remained on the books and i was reminded pointedly and regularly that in the eyes of the law, and of the Hall Wardens, I remained male.

“She’s just my big sister, I suppose. She doesn’t exactly support my dreams here, but she has done all she can to cover up for me and to help. And she’s my big sister, so…..please be nice to her”

I heard the sounds of boots on the stairs, and a wallop on the door. Elaine, as subtle as ever. I was absolutely terrified, as this was one of those days when the girls had insisted I get into a dress, and this would be the first time anyone in my family saw anything like the real me. Nothing special, just a plain print dress, but a dress . I opened the door, and a leather clad storm trooper stood there.

“Elaine, this is Becky, and Joanna”

“Fuck me, brawd, you like to give me warning next time?”

She flung her arms around me and I had the odd feeling of being hugged by half a cow.

“You started nicking the drugs yet, then?”

“Na, just getting a bit more relaxed in my fashion sense, “

“Fuck me!”

“Sis, can I make a bit of a suggestion, if you keep saying that the little one is likely to take up your offer”

Becky drew herself up, which didn’t take long.

“What do you mean ‘little’? Oh, and please, please, please do say you’ve brought the handcuffs!”

Joanna was trying very hard not to laugh, but once she started it was infectious and spread right through the room. I managed to calm down enough to speak to Elaine.

“Tea?”

“Tea!”

She was intrigued by the set-up, and while I played with cups and hot water in the common kitchen I could half hear her interrogating the girls. I distributed the cups, and we sat ourselves around on the two chairs and the bed. There was an extra dynamic to the scene, something I was missing. Becky was grinning like the proverbial, and bursting with the need to tell me something.

“We’re off to the Ship tonight!”

I sighed, and looked at Elaine. “Sorry, we can find somewhere else if you want, it’s the TLGB night”

“LGBT! LGBT!”

“…and if you’d rather not go and watch a lot of benders like us we can always go into town for a Chinese and then a drink in the Union”

Becky was still bouncing. “Tell her, tell her”

Elaine gave me a sharp look. I gave her one back. “Don’t you look at me like that, girl, you knew exactly what I intended to do. You knew exactly what I HAVE to do. None of this should come as a surprise, but you have one for me, I feel. Would you rather talk alone?”

“Ych, no. These two turned out to be the first to know, actually. That midget has a way of getting you talking.

“I’ll have you know I am well over…”

“Four feet tall, I know. Look, brawd, what do I call you?”

“Sarah. Sar for short, it was something that sort of came out on my first day here.”

“Well, Sar, I would love to go along to your LTGB night. And if you can’t work things out from that, let me just add that our parents are looking unlikely to get grand kids”

It was my turn to be stunned. “Fuck me…”

Joanna looked me up and down ,and very drily said “Not yet, Sar”

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That night was superb. The girls had me dressed up properly for the first time in public, hair done, make up just right, a stuffed bra to complete the look. I already had some heeled shoes, as to me they just scream ‘woman’ and I was still a voice n the wilderness, and the four of us made quite a group as we clicked along the pavement to the pub. The disco was pumping out stuff that, as a rocker, I hated, but I didn’t care. I was out, I was me, I was with people I loved, and my sister’s revelation had, in truth, come as no big surprise. Her support of me had always left me wondering what the payback would be, and here it was. I owed her one.

I danced till my feet hurt, and drank till I was silly. I had to turn down approaches from both women and men, both with the announcement that I was straight. It was nice to be chatted up by some of the better-looking men, but they were gay, and after more than I wanted to deliver. The exception was the small group of lads from the rugby club, but their reaction would have been less than pleasant. So, I danced, I watched over Becky and Jo’s handbags while they snogged, I did the same for my sister when she found some woman to swap saliva with, and I was, very simply, happy. I could see that Elaine had a long and a hard journey to face, and perversely I was glad. It wasn’t just me. I wasn’t some weird pervert, off on her own, I was one of a community of people all of whom shared similar worries about rejection and love. Granted that sense of community would vanish with the closure of the pub, or with the arrival of the morning’s hangover, but for now I was content just to be there and to share.

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Elaine insisted she come to the funeral with me, and in fact drove me there. They were cremated together, both families clearly in deep shock, and there was not much I could do, being nothing more that a friend from college, other than the ritual expressions and handshakes. My sister turned up in full uniform, which caused a stir, and after we had said farewell to my first and dearest friends she pulled on a civvy jacket and led me back to the car.

“Brawd, we need to sort out a few things at home. You can either do it now while you still have the numbness, and the time left to hide at college, or you can do it when you come back from college, nowhere to hide and me not there to support you. Let’s just do it now, OK? I am angry enough to get you through this one, and I am not leaving you to him while I am off in Llareggub or wherever. Can you do this for me? For yourself?”

I looked down at the dark suit, with mid calf skirt, and black court shoes I was wearing. “You mean, like you subtly told me you were a dyke? Oh, bugger it, in for a penny. What can he do?”

“Speaking from unfortunate experience, kill both of us, but that’s unlikely. I am going to make a couple of calls just before we go in, OK?”

The M4 unreeled beneath us, and soon we were rolling past Treffgarne and up to Abergwaun. My courage was draining lower with each mile closer, and we pulled up a few streets away for Elaine to make her couple of calls.

She was soon back at her car. ”Be strong, little sister, this is something that has to be done. There are two girls lost who would have been here for us both, so let’s do them proud.”

We parked in the driveway behind the huge Leylandii that Dad refused to cut, and Elaine opened the front door while I stayed in the car. After what seemed like an hour, she appeared again at the door and waved me in. I am writing this n English, so I may lose some of the subtlety, but then again it wasn’t subtle. My clothes brought the first outburst, from Dad, and the first threats. That was when Elaine mentioned the colleagues who just happened to have parked up a street away for a cuppa. Her own revelation brought a look of actual disgust from my mother, but nowhere near the same from Dad. I suspect he was just grateful that at least one of his children would be bringing girlfriends round for him to ogle.

Eventually, and impressively, Big Sis got everyone sitting and talking rather than shouting and throwing, and I realised that she was actually very good at her job, and as she sat next to me on the settee I took hold of her hand and gave her a smile. She got back to the point.

“You two need to understand one thing, and one thing only. Much as we love you both, we have a lot of problems ahead. You can either be with us, or you will be without us. Sarah here has been this way since she was old enough to know what a girl was, so don’t you dare come out with another comment about the University.

“What do you want? Two daughters, or none?”

Mam was crying, Dad ended up joining her on her chair and mixing his tears with hers. It was not something I had ever seen him do before and I wanted, just for a moment, to apologise and go back to being Sam, in the pain of watching my poor, hurting parents. Elaine just held me to her and shook her head, and Dad looked up, face wet, as Mam nodded sharply, and he said “Then two pretty daughters it is. I don’t like it, I don’t want it, but it’s the bed I have and I have no choice. I will not abandon a child of mine for anything”

Mam was just nodding agreement, and at that moment I loved them both more than I ever had before. She gently murmured “Just…please, don’t rub our noses in it”

CHAPTER 4
That was not the start of a new life, by any means, but it was definitely the end of the old one.

Without Becky and Jo to push me along and watch my back, I soon dropped back out of the fully femme dressing, all but returning to my androgynous not-quite sure look. It was Elaine who slapped my arse that time, marching me along to a solicitor she knew and standing over me while I swore the deed poll that changed my name.

“You have no idea what I had to do to get Mam and Dad on side, chwaer fychan, so you will go through with this if I have to drag you kicking and screaming. You’re just a coward, but I’d rather have a happy, live coward than a dead one. Got me?”

So, I became a real mouthful. I chose the names that I had picked when I was tiny, so as to keep my initials, Sarah Marie Powell, but I added two other names as a reminder. I do not need to spell out what those names are, only my closest friends have ever known. I couldn’t think of a better way to remember my double lifeline.

Elaine, of course, was right, and when I graduated with a 2.1 in 1991 it was awarded to Sarah and not Samuel, something that made my life immeasurably easier. Even my parents were coming round slowly to it, and I regretted the cruel thoughts about my Dad. He went from profoundly anti to fiercely protective, and knowing him as I did he probably thought that it was his idea in the first place. Elaine passed me the news that after I had been seen out and about ,Dad had started coming home with cuts and bruises, and on one occasion a black eye, which lasted till he had finally beaten the crap out of the last man in the pub who dared to talk about gayers and nancy boys.

I loved my father deeply then, and I still remember Elaine describing the look of pride my mother gave him when he came home bruised and unbowed, all over his daughters the dyke and the shirtlifter. Once set on a course, he stuck to it. I was really proud of him; not a lover of violence, I was still touched by this hard man who fought bare-knuckled to protect the honour of what he now clearly thought of as his daughters.

Graduation brought another hurdle. I was by now living completely as myself, but I needed to find work. I had, in essence, two options. I either found a small family firm that I could charm with my wit and personality to accept a tranny chemist, or I could pick on one of the major chains such as Boots or Drummonds, and rely on their avowed policy of anti-discrimination. That miserable word “diversity”, or “box-ticking” as I think of it, had yet to appear, but they seemed the best bet. Elaine was also nagging me ceaselessly about sorting out a head doctor to get the necessary drugs as if I didn’t get a job I wouldn’t be able to steal them. I always found that an interesting attitude for a copper to take.

“Gwranda, chwaer fychan, you always were a dwarf. If you act now, you can make a much nicer woman than if you hang on and hang on until your todger withers and drops off. You have to speak to somebody, OK?”

I had finally received an application pack from Addison’s in Abertawe...Swansea to foreigners, and I rode down, on the train that is, to start the interview process for my first foot on the ladder as a dispensing pharmacist. It was like something out of a sitcom; I walked into a room where two men and a woman sat behind a long desk and took a seat in a prairie of space before their gaze. I was wearing the same outfit I had chosen for the funeral, my only truly formal wear apart from suits, ties and Oxford shoes, and Elaine had left me in no doubt as to my freely-chosen course of action. The interview followed the predictable course: one friendly, one a bit pushy, and one saving up the sneaky and nasty questions for the end. I talked through my university progress, where I saw myself in ten years’ time, and what I could bring to the company, mixed with my leisure interests, all the usual fishing questions. The woman sat quietly, taking notes. As the other two wound down, she spoke up for the first time.

“That is a very nice outfit. Where did you buy it?”

“The suit is from Debenham’s, the blouse from Dorothy Perkins and the shoes, I think, from Clark’s.”

“They coordinate nicely. I compliment you on your taste. But why are you dressed like that, Mr Powell?”

Bitch. That was when I nearly cut and ran, but I heard Elaine’s voice muttering in my ear “Gwan-galon…”

I was a coward, I am a coward, but there I was backed into a corner. I took a while to compose myself.

“Where to start? I am a transsexual woman. I suppose it is something that could have been read from my declared gender on the application form, coupled with my forenames.”

“Yes, that is true. But why did you not declare that fact clearly and overtly at the start of the interview?”

“Why did you invite me here for interview when you clearly already knew the answer to your first question? As far as I am concerned, I am a woman. I intend to rectify my little problems when I get the chance, but I am now living, and intend to work, as a woman. To have come here dressed as a man would have been a deception. This isn’t. This is who I am.”

“How much paid time off will you be needing for all the surgery?”

“From the information available to me, it would fit nicely into my annual leave entitlement if you employ me”

“Thank you, Ms Powell, please wait outside”

‘Ms’? What?

I waited out in reception, where there was a pot of coffee and some biscuits available, and two other people awaiting their turn. After ten minutes of hanging around, one of the men on the panel sent me off to get some lunch, and to come back after two. I wandered off down Princess Way and found a sandwich shop, and settled down in the little green space there to eat. I was terrified. Outed so quickly, so nastily, it was like a physical assault. There was a train in half an hour, I could just drop the idea and head home, and have my parents nod knowingly, and Elaine tell me she expected no better….

At one fifty I was back in the reception area having another cup of coffee and wondering whether I dared use the ladies’ under the beady eyes of a receptionist who was probably reporting directly to the queen bitch. I found a ‘disabled’ toilet and did the necessary, and on my return realised there was only one other interviewee waiting with me. He was about my age, a couple of inches taller than my 5’7”, dark-haired and fit in a gym and tennis sort of way, and I had already spotted what a superb arse he had.

“Hi, looks like they are down to the finals now, all the chaff sifted. I’m Joe, by the way” hand out for a shake. I took it.

“Sarah. You think we are in with a chance?”

“We are the only ones still here, what does that say to you? Where are you from?”

“Abergwaun”

“Oh, Fishguard, oes tipyn bach, me, don’t speak it”

I had to giggle at his atrocious attempt at Welsh. “Er, rather obviously not”

We started to laugh together, and in my innocence it was at least thirty seconds before I realised I was being chatted up.

“I’m a local lad, from Penllergaer. Hoping for something close to home. You?”

“Just looking at moving somewhere a little bigger than home, spread my wings sort of thing. Where did you study?”

“Just up the road, seemed easiest to stay at home, all mod cons and that”

“I went to Aberystwyth.”

“All sheepshaggers up there, aren’t they? Listen, what about we grab a drink after this, either celebrate or commiserate, hey?”

I was already feeling a little cautious. This was a very quick pace for a new girl, but….”OK”

He was in first, and out in a couple of minutes, punching the air. “Kingsway branch, right here! I’ll wait for you, they said to go straight in”

The same three basilisks were awaiting me, but this time they were standing by the window, pouring out a glass of white wine. Queen bitch smiled at me. Smiled…

“I guessed it would be white for you, Ms Powell, I hope I was right.”

“Thank you” I said, taking the glass.

“We are pleased to say that we have an offer of a post for you, commencing in a week’s time. It is in Morriston, and we have chosen you for that one because of your language skills. There is quite a lot of Welsh spoken up that way.”

I nearly snorted my wine back up. “Language skills? I just speak what we do at home!”

“Yes, but you also managed to get an upper second degree while studying in what was to you a foreign language”

She dropped her voice almost to a whisper.

“I have no idea why you are doing this, nor any inkling of how hard it must be, but if you are going to be a woman, learn to take a bloody compliment, OK?”

She squeezed my forearm, and we went over to the desk where a contract of employment was ready to sign, and I became Sarah Feryllydd of Morriston.

CHAPTER 5
Joe was waiting when I came out, and we headed off for the nearest pub, the King’s. Joe was bubbling away with excitement, and I was nearly as bad.

A proper job, salary, prospects, and in my own name. One pint, one glass of wine led to another, and by four o’clock we were quite merry. I had already called in the news to home from the pub phone, and it was time to get my train back. Joe offered to walk me back to the station, and as my heels ticked along the pavement I felt the legs above them wobble slightly. Joe noticed, and I ended up hanging onto his arm. There was I, employed, happy, pissed and hanging onto a truly gorgeous man. Could life be any better? Well, of course it could, I could be physically what I was mentally, but it would come.

I now had two things to sort out, my somewhat slow mind was telling me, a shrink to get my transition rolling, and more immediately somewhere to live in Morriston. I pulled Joe into a letting agent’s as we headed to the station, and as I pored over their listings I felt him squeeze my bum. Cheeky boy….but it felt nice so I just kept reading while he kneaded away. By the time we left it was as a couple joined at the hip and at the station he came to the platform with me.

“We shall have to get together when you move over, Sarah. You’re good fun!”

Before I could react he bent down and kissed me, and I immediately felt his tongue pushing at my lips. It would have been rude not to….and I gave as good as I got, reaching up to pull his head to mine, his solid body pressed against my all-too-unreal tits. He pulled back.

“If we keep on like this, you won’t get home and I will get all messy. See you when you move in.”

I dozed off on the train back, but the dreams were rather nice. The only problem was my little chap, who had got all excited with the tonsil hockey and had to be covered by my hand bag to prevent it showing. I was home eventually, having sobered a little on the train, but the euphoria was amazing. So many good things, such a short space of time, it was absolutely unbelievable. I did, however, fail in the courage stakes and while I told my parents all about the interview, somehow Joe slipped out of the conversation.

Some coffee helped with clearing my head, and I started the business of arranging somewhere to live. Within an hour, I had the option of a small two-bed flat not too far from the shop, and Dad agreed to stump up the deposit. I am sure I didn’t stop grinning even when asleep that night. I was alive at last.

Over the next week, Dad ferried my bits and pieces over to the new flat while I busied myself with the necessities of such a move, registering with the local health centre, changing my bank branch, that sort of thing. It was mostly little and messy details, but I did at least manage to have a chat with my new GP and explain my need to find a suitable head doctor. Dr Owain was a bit taken aback by the sudden appearance of a transsexual in his surgery, as he was more accustomed to seeing bruised and bleeding drunks, or ravaged diabetics. I was something very new to him, and to give him due credit he simply asked to examine me.

“Why so, Doctor?”

“Simple, Miss Powell, if you are going to start on hormones I want to be sure your body is strong enough to take the damage they can do,”

Fair enough…and if he saw the smile that his words brought to my face, he hid it well.

The day finally came when I was due to start work. I had moved in to my little flat, my bike was ready to roll, and my white coat was sparkling away in my saddlebag. A speed breakfast of cornflakes and tea, a last check of my face, and in quick time I was walking into Addison’s in jeans and leather jacket. I identified myself at the pharmacy, was shown to the ladies’, and n ten minutes was being shown the layout, including the poisons cabinet, while stylishly dressed in a pale green blouse, a loden skirt and three inch heels..

Eight hours later I was cursing my heels and glad I was now in bike boots. That was mu first lesson. I treated myself to a soak when I got in, after picking up a Chinese meal for post-bath consumption. I lay in the bath, looking at the flatness of my chest, and the diminutive size of my nipples, and almost wept. I was trying to ignore the maggot rising between my legs, but couldn’t. Not for the first, nor last, time, I wondered if a sharp knife might help. Thoughts of Joe only made it worse, as said maggot would respond. I wept for a while, the mood punctured, and dried myself off ready for my oriental meal. Lesson two: spring rolls and microwave ovens are not a good mix.

Weeks passed, my job went well, and the staff were diamonds. I had one major giggling fit with one of the girls, a cymres cymreig, when I heard her name. Alison Parry. I started to chuckle, and she simply said “Oh dear, you are going to call me Arison, aren’t you?”

One of the other girls, from Birmingham originally, looked lost. “What’s the joke?”

I explained, between giggles. “Lots of Welsh names begin with a ‘P’, and it’s often short for ‘ap’, which means ‘son of’. So Arison here (“Bitch!”) has the surname Parry, which means ‘son of Harry’, so she is sort of ‘Alison Harrison”, which suggests her parents either did not speak yr hen iaith or had no sense of humour. Is that right, Ari?”

And Ari ,or Arris, she became. It was one of the things that helped me break the ice, and I noticed that I was easier by far with people than I had ever been as Sam.

For four weeks i had no word from Joe, and I busied myself getting to know the area and the people. Arris and the girls helped, if leaving me struggling to contain my giggles when dispensing to certain regulars can be deemed helping, and the other thing that kept me moving was the regular rock night at the Red Barn.

Picture this: a reasonably tall, for a girl, figure in jeans, tucked into mid calf stiletto boots. A band T-shirt under a leather bike jacket, not a huge chest but enough to play with, as long as you don’t get close enough to actually handle the illusion. Strawberry blonde hair to the shoulder blades, and an eyes closed, whole body dance whenever something decent is played.. There was never a really big name band there, but plenty of cover groups, and even one or two of the better known ‘scene’ bands such as Dr Feelgood, and the Hamsters, played during my time at Morriston. There was always a sensory overload for me there, with the music grabbing my body, and the smells, of leather, and patchouli, and hash. I would stroll back home each Sunday morning at about one, still buzzing from the beat, and the dancing, and just being able to be out, and be me.

My quack had found me a shrink, Rhys Thomas, and he seemed very happy with who I was, and within three weeks of being in my flat I had my own prescription to fill. I suppose it is only girls like me who can truly understand the thrill, the terror, the sheer joy of that moment when the first tablet is there, held on the palm of your hand, and then gone, off to do the work that will finally make you real. That Saturday night I danced until I was soaked with sweat, and drank far too much, but still managed to get myself home safely, buzzing and bouncing with joy.

I lost a little of the good feelings there. ‘Bouncing’ would always mean Becky to me, and when I got back to my flat I opened a bottle of wine to toast her memory. Stupid idea, in hindsight, the hangover was beyond words.. Lesson three: don’t mix wine and beer, lesson four: hormones do nothing you can notice in the first twenty four hours.

CHAPTER 6
I was happy that Sunday morning-of-sorts, despite the hangover.

I celebrated with another dose of my wonderful medicine, washed down with a cup of tea that I urgently needed. Hot tea; washes all the nasty grunge and taste out of your mouth and starts the rehydration process after alcohol abuse. I missed Joe; last night’s celebration would have been better shared.

Reality jumped on me at the moment that thought surfaced. Hi, you, want to celebrate my starting on hormones? Didn’t I mention? Hey, Joe, where are you going with that tranny in your arms? No, there was no way I could drop that one on him, and if I was to tell him I had to be really, really sure it would be the right thing, and the right time.

Once my hangover had abated properly, and I was reasonably sure I could ride legally, I took the bike out to Rhosili and sat for a while watching the waves. I realised I was now at a true crossroads. The way forward seemed to be so easy, so natural, and I smiled at the memories of the snogging and bum-grabbing of the other day. Everything was confirming for me what I had always known; I was a woman, pure and simple. As long as I kept a steady course, the side turnings could be ignored. No need to tell all the gory details to people, just let them assume and carry on with what seemed to be turning into the life I had dreamed of, yearned for.

I got up, and wandered along The Worm for a little bit, the westerly wind clearing the last vestiges of my thick head, then ran back past the supermarket for a top up to the larder. The rest of my Sunday was a lazy, indulgent slump in front of the TV, occasionally trying to feel if anything was happening to my body.

Back at work on the Monday, and my first case of piles. Arris pointed him out, a rather frail middle aged man in a faded suit, as I filled his scrip for some rather heavy duty analgesics.

“The word is he used to be a bit of a gay dog, if you take my meaning. Doggy style a bit too often…”

That was something she couldn’t realise about me, the fantasies I had been having about Joe in particular and men in general, and in my naivety I had assumed that there was only one…route to fulfilment for girls like I still was. The prematurely aged little man in front of me left me feeling both scared and confused, but at the same time oddly excited. I mean, he was there, obviously as ‘out’ as anyone could be, and nobody was rushing to attack him or abuse him. Perhaps the world wasn’t as bad as I feared. There again, he was gay, and I wasn’t, and perhaps there was a difference in how we would be perceived. He had kept his bits, and clearly used them, if in ways the mainstream of folk might not actually approve of, whereas I was going a couple of steps further. I was not what I presented to the world beyond the confines of my own mind, and actually hoping my own bits would eventually do a vanishing act. Not really the same thing at all.

I had a real surprise that afternoon; Joe rang the shop internal number and asked for me. With a very knowing look from the girls, I rushed to the phone.

“Hiya, gorgeous, what are you up to tonight?”
“Nothing planned, why?”

“Finally got myself settled into somewhere of my own, and I was wondering if you fancied a bite”

Did I ever. I had missed him, odd as that may sound for someone I had only met once, but my brain was still stuck on ‘teenager’ in its ideas about romance. We arranged to meet up at a wine bar at seven, and he was charm incarnate, hanging on my conversation as his hand was on my knee, and once again leaving me almost panting with arousal after a serious snogging session at the bus stop. I rode back smiling happily to myself as I used my mirror to try and fix the mess he had made of my lipstick, the world seemingly at my feet and not just beneath the top deck I was sitting on.

And so it went, week by week, and month by month. I spent money on hair removal, at a place Doc Owain suggested, I expanded my wardrobe, particularly in the matter of flat shoes, I rocked out at the Barn, sometimes in my most daring purchase, a leather mini, which seemed to draw approval, and every couple of weeks Joe would take me out for a meal and some mouth to mouth. My nipples were already puffing up as the cocktail of chemicals worked their wonderful magic, and when we kissed I felt my body torn in two, the oddity in my knickers straining with need while my nipples screamed for attention. I wanted him, but I couldn’t work out what exactly it was that I needed him to do, and I fretted endlessly when not with him about how, and when, and whether to tell him.

Christmas was coming and the shop had, of course, been preparing for it since around the end of August. Hallowe’en was never really a British ‘celebration’, so there was no conflict between the two festivals when the decorations appeared. Yes, Christmas preparations DO start that early. Soon, there was a tree, plastic but still a tree, in the pharmacy area, so people could be distracted while waiting for their fungal nail infection cream, or Valium, or insulin. I had arranged a few days holiday after Christmas, but had still drawn the late-night call out slot for Christmas Eve. New girl’s responsibility, I supposed. I had little idea how regularly that slot would fall to me as the years passed.

I didn’t see much of Joe before Christmas, and assumed he had his family to thank for that. Christmas is supposed to be a family time, and as I pulled up outside the old home and shook my helmet hair free into some semblance of femininity I was actually looking forward to my own special time. I wasn’t disappointed; my mother wrapped me in a hug as I came in, and as a token of how much he had accepted my new state Dad even gave me a kiss. We were going to have a late afternoon meal, in deference both to my delayed arrival by bike from the city, and to the fact that with the sheer quantity my mother normally served up tea would consist simply of the pudding we would be unable to enjoy after the meal itself. Enjoy? Fit in, that is.

Elaine had managed three days off, and we laughed like idiots as I detailed some of the odder ailments I prescribed for and she responded with details of the silliness and sheer lunacy of the drivers she chased down. We swapped our presents, and she quietly told me to open mine away from the parental gaze. That was wise advice indeed, as I doubt either heart would have survived seeing the underwear selection my sister had given me. Once alone, she hounded me for more personal gossip, and I told her about Joe. For some reason she seemed a little off with what I told her, but then smiled, and hugged me.

“My little sister is growing up so quickly she better not get dizzy!”

“What about you? Courting?”

“Might be…”

“What’s she like?”

Elaine just went all thousand-yard eyes, memories obviously dragging a fond smile that turned into a huge grin. “She’s lovely, and she’s called Siá¢n”

Her face fell. “And I just wish I could bring her home just like any other child would their partner”

I pulled her into a proper embrace, and whispered gently into her ear.

“And how are Mam and Dad treating me these days? They have more to them than you give them credit for”

“Oh, Sar…..do you think they would accept you bringing a man back? There are small steps, and big ones, and too many big ones too quick make you fall on your face. Trust me, we will both get there in the end, but I want a promise from you. Be careful. You could get killed if you come out to the wrong man. Please promise me, nothing rash”

I promised. We broke our hug, and went down to begin the process of eating for Wales.

Back after the holiday I was straight into the post-Christmas damage-repair rush. Funnily enough, I had also drawn New Year’s Eve for duty, so the first change of date as an independent woman was spent in my room with a cup of cocoa and the telly. I did get a call from Joe wishing me all the usual, sounding as if he was ringing from a pub. Obviously, the new boy didn’t get the same jobs as the new girl. Funny, that.

And so it went, as winter slowly dragged its filthy grey way through February and into March, and my breasts slowly started to take beautiful shape, and my beard vanished forever, and Joe left me shivering with need.

He had a car now, and I had moved up to a bigger bike ,a GT550, and we would often meet up for a walk along the coast before a serious snog in the back seat and then our separate ways home. I was wrapped round him one day, and he gently took my hand and started to move it up his thigh. I realised what he wanted, and after one of those silly internal arguments I let my hand be drawn gently up to his groin and the hardness there. It didn’t feel huge, but then my experience of cocks was sort of limited to one, and to actually be handling another made my chest ache. I stroked it gently, and squeezed it, and he shuddered as he slipped his hand down by mine. I heard the zip, and suddenly a piece of hot flesh was against my hand, which he wrapped round it. I felt the sliminess as he encouraged me to gently wank him, the skin sliding on the swollen head.

“Oh god, Sar, that is just so good…”

His tongue sought mine, and he tangled his hands in my hair, then broke the kiss. His hands stayed in my hair, and I realised he was slowly urging my head down towards his crotch. I knew exactly what he was after, as while I was virginal I was at least well-read, and I dithered for a while before sliding sideways on the seat and bringing my head down to his erect cock.

It looked rather the same as mine, if lacking my bikini trim, but it wasn’t mine, that was the point, and it tasted odd, but it felt so intense to take it in my mouth, and then suddenly there was more in my mouth and I had to gulp quickly and push my head back as he tried to force himself all the way down my throat. Oh god, that was exciting….I slipped back up beside him and went to kiss him, but he pulled away.

“Sorry, Sar, but you’ve just had a mouthful of spoodge and it would be a bit gay, you know? I better get going, anyway, said I’d take Mam out tonight”

Was that it? My first sexual act, and he was off out the proverbial door while his cock was still dripping? I stood by my bike as he drove off, wondering where this was actually going and, indeed whether it was going anywhere at all.

I felt really, really stupid just then.

CHAPTER 7
Once more, Joe seemed to disappear for a few weeks, and I wasn’t sure I was actually disappointed about that.

My mind was tossing an imaginary coin in trying to decide whether the sex (for that was what it was, even if one way) had been good, or whether I had simply been used. If I had seen him soon after the blow job I would probably have pushed the issue, but I didn’t, so I couldn’t. When he did turn up again, my idiocy knew no bounds, and I was once again left frustrated and wishing I had something with which to rinse my mouth out.

As Spring came into bud, though, I had other things on my mind and in my diary. I approached Arris for support.

“Arris, ever been to a rally?”

“I had a boyfriend once, he drove a car he said was a rally special”

“No, a bike rally”

“What’s one of them then?”

“We ride out somewhere nice, there’s camping, and a marquee, and music, and alcohol, and silly games, then we come home with a hangover”

“This is motorbikes, is it?”

“Oh yeah!”

“So lots of big men in leather then? With big things between their legs?”

“Most definitely”

“Where do I sign up?”

“Got a sleeping bag? I’ll take you on the back”

There was one due in a couple of weeks near Llanddeusant, and after I obtained Arris’ reluctant (yeah, right) agreement I sent off a cheque for a couple of tickets. Come the Friday in question, and Arris was at my front door in a fashion jacket, skin tight jeans, and stiletto thigh boots. I started to laugh.

“What’s so funny, Sar?”

“Stilettos, Arris. Muddy field…..you end up waddling like a duck as your heels sink straight in! Got any flatter boots?”

She had, and after a few more tweaks to her wardrobe we were loaded up and off to Brynamman and the wonderful twisty road over the mountain that drops you down to the side road to the Cross Inn, where the rally was based. It is a lovely part of the country, and the site of the rally shares the same view as that picked for the cover of the Ordinance Survey map of the area, the northern slopes of the Mynydd Du. Red kites haunt the air, sheep flocks fill the lanes, and XAM were booked to play the Saturday night. I had cheated, for Arris’ sake, and fitted her out in an old denim cut-off of mine with a few rally badges on so she wouldn’t get the ‘virgin’ treatment. I knew I would see a few people I knew from other rallies, so I would be safe from the hazing, but I wanted Arris to have the best of memories. Of course, if she drank like she normally did, she might not retain any memories at all, but there you go, everything cannot be had.

We booked in, and I had a quick look at the mileage people were claiming. There was no way we would get the long distance award, but it was cheering to see how far people were coming. Max, the lad in the reception tent, let drop that they had a regular group from Dover, so we definitely stood no chance.

We ….I pitched the tent while Arris stared around at all the leather and bulk, and drooled. Sleeping bags lofted, gear stowed, the first drink of the evening went down well, as did the second. The morning light was the next thing that caught my attention, though, streaming in through the fabric of the tent. Mouth like a piece of stale toast, I pushed Arris away from her close cuddling of me and got the stove going. Tea…..that seemed to wake her, and soon we were sharing that great camping moment, lying in a warm bag with a mug of char. Arris was quiet. Then she sighed, and looked at me.

“Sar, how much of a girl are you?”

Oh shit. We spoke Welsh together, as usual, so it was actually ‘cachu’, which has an even more useful and satisfying sound, but still, oh shit.

“It’s just, well, when we got back from the beer tent, and you were trying to do the French Lieutenant’s Woman with the sleeping bag, well, you aren’t really normal in the knickers, are you?”

Before I could speak, she rushed on. “Please don’t get me wrong. I don’t care what you keep down there, as long as you don’t keep it for me. Just, if you want to talk, I’m OK. Sar? Please, don’t cry, it’s OK, really”

She wrapped me up in her arms and rocked me like a child as the mixture of emotions flooded through me. Terror, relief, despair, hope….I gathered myself together, and began. Once upon a time….

And once more I had discovered that people, most people, are better than you ever hope for. We sort of came to an arrangement about my extras, in that I wouldn’t flash them, and Arris wouldn’t look for them, but as she pointed out I was so girly a girl that it was difficult for her to focus on something so wrong. Then she asked the killer question.

“Does Joe know?”

That was when I had another little moment of revelation. What exactly was Joe? I talked through our times together, and Arris’ eyes widened.

“Someone needs to take you in hand, girl, and not like that. He’s a cu–sorry, an arsehole. He’s using you, can’t you see that?”
“He has a busy life…”

“He’s off shagging someone else, a pound to a penny, and he calls you when he wants a bit of extra fun. Tell me, Sar, you ever been with anyone else? In any way at all?”

“Well, no…”

“Take some advice, love. Call it a day on the Joe front. Listen, you look good, and as long as you are careful nobody will know. You going for the nip and tuck eventually?”

That is what everyone seems to want to know. It’s a question I could never answer, because while I hated my little oddity, and loved the breasts that were starting to push out on my chest, the thought of someone cutting into me was a profoundly disturbing one. I did want rid of the two poison factories, but….there were so many horror stories.

Arris sensed my changed mood, and hugged it away.

“Breakfast, a look around, some silly games and industrial strength ogling. You going with that leather mini I saw you packing?”

“I might do later, but probably best to stick to jeans after what you said”

“OK, load up, and then lard up”

As a hangover cure, a full Welsh breakfast takes a lot of beating, and then we wandered around the three or four stalls set up, selling sunglasses and T-shirts, leather wallets and other biker tat. Arris ended up with a rather nice little leather waistcoat, and we both studiously ignored the naked body staked out on the grass covered in flour. Rally virgins….I had explained the tradition to Arris before we came, and she was managing to pull off a credible ‘old hand’ act. Just as well.

Once human again, we sat and had a cuppa and enjoyed the view out to the hills, to Bannau Sá®r Gaer and Fan Brycheiniog, red in the late morning light. Arris sighed.

“It is truly lovely here, Sar. Thank you for bringing me”

“They are gorgeous hills, aren’t they?”

“And rather gorgeous arses as well, girl!”

I suppose that was when I realised I was finding a friend who was going some way towards filling the void left by my earlier loss. I wasn’t alone in this. Elaine, my parents, Becky and Joanna, there seemed to be an endless supply of angels around me. I kissed her gently.

“What was that for?”
“Being there just when I needed you, and not judging me”

There was a cough behind me, and an English voice spoke up.

“If you are going to have wild lesbian sex on the grass, can I sell tickets?”

I looked around to see a solid dark-haired man in his twenties, with a full beard, just as the naked body from earlier walked into the food tent for a cuppa. Arris smiled.

“Hiya Tone, where’s Steve?”

She knew him? “Arris…?”

“Sorry, Sar, but you were out of it last night. You spent a lot of it dancing with Tony here”

He chuckled, “And Steve will have rather sore lips the way you were sucking his bloody face off. He’s taking a dump, he’ll be over in a bit. I‘ll grab some chairs, if you don’t mind”

Ambush memories were slipping in, of throwing myself into the music from the disco, and…a few slower ones? I blushed, and Tony put his hand on my knee in a simple, friendly way.

“Nothing happened, we got you back to your tent while you were going on about Meryl Streep for some reason. Ah, Steve’s coming over”

A Norse god of thunder wandered over to the tent, at least six four, blonde hair to his shoulders and a heavy moustache. He probably outweighed Elaine’s car, and very little of it was lard. I caught a glimpse of Arris’ face, and she was like a dog being made to wait for its dinner. I swear she was licking her lips, and realised she was watching for a hint as to whether she should play it cool or not. Steve solved the problem, by reaching down and lifting her hand for a kiss. I had a suspicion, just then, that I might just be on my own that night.

And we stayed together for the weekend, just the four of us, and it was a very good weekend. Tony suggested a ride up onto the crest of the hills, and I ended up solo as I followed him on his Mike Hailwood replica, and Steve on his Guzzi, with Arris clinging firmly and possessively to his waist. There are quarries just off the road, and we grabbed a few provisions in a local shop and sat in a perfect concert setting, complete with stone ‘stage’ and auditorium, looking out over the green farmland to the north of the Mynydd Du. Arris was bubbling away around her Thor, while Tony and I took time to redo the introductions. He was from Harwich originally, and had ridden down to Reading to meet up with Steve, an old college friend. Oddly, when I asked what he did, he was a bit vague, muttering something about security in the docks, and changing the subject. Never mind, it was just a weekend away, and if he had something to hide I didn’t really need to know. Anyway, I had rather a big secret of my own.

It was a gorgeous day, and we simply sat and soaked it up into the middle of the afternoon, Steve and Arris talking and touching gently a little way off as Tony and I filled out our life stories for each other. He wasn’t reticent about anything other than his work, which was a puzzle, and in a moment of insight I realised he was probably a copper, and this was just a bit of self-protection. We finally bit the bullet and began the descent back to the site after a few last photos, and shared another round of tea at the food tent.

There were a variety of silly events that afternoon, such as dizzy sticks and a tug of war, and we sat in the sun just enjoying the mood and the company, and girding our livers for later. As evening drew on, the boys insisted on taking us across the road to the pub and buying us a meal. That was more than just a meal to me, of course, and I felt so girly I wanted the world to freeze right then so I could keep the moment.

It got better, though, as we started to get into the evening proper, and the drinks flowed, and Arris and I danced to the rock disco while the boys held our jackets, until finally the band came on. They were a well-known group on the biker circuit back then, mixing a few not-bad originals with blistering covers of rock standards. Real R and B featured a lot; not this pathetic disco drivel, but rhythm and blues, driven along by sharp bass and drums. They worked through some ZZ Top, and as I stood in front of Tony, his hands on my hips, they went into a real classic, SAHB’s “Faith Healer”, with the very apt chorus line of “Let me put my hands on you….”

They finished off with Metallica’s “Sandman”, the whole marquee echoing to the shouts of “Exit Light! Enter Night!” and as I bopped in front of Tony I felt his erection just brushing my backside, and realised that I was still sober enough to be careful, and better leave it that way.

We did have rather a steamy “good night”, and as expected there was no sign of Arris till the next morning, when she appeared at the food tent for breakfast.

“Bore da, Arris! Roedd noson da ‘da ti?”

“Oh, ie, Sar, da iawn wir!“

Her voice lowered a little, she grinned at me, and said with a wink “Mae e’n mawr iawn….pedwar tro, hefyd”

Throughout all this, the two boys were sitting unsuspecting of what she had just revealed. In essence, she had had a very good night, a very well-filled night, and four goes at being well-filled. No wonder she was smiling, but I wondered how comfortable she would be on the way home.

That time came, and after all was packed we said a rather soppy farewell to the boys, which did involve some snogs, and the two of us whirred back over the hill to our homes. Arris demanded we do it again, and soon, and I assumed she meant a rally rather than a four-orgasm sex session with a blond stallion.

The answering machine light was flashing when I got in, and it was from Joe.

“Hey, babe, fancy a drink tomorrow?”

CHAPTER 8
I thought it was about time to sort things out. The weekend with Tony had opened my eyes to the way life could be, and Joe was not someone I could ever trust to take me there.

He was fun, the one-sided sex was exciting, but it was clearly going absolutely nowhere. I would go out for a last drink, clear the decks, and call it quits.

Once more, Joe had picked a pub miles from anywhere, and I realised he was trying to minimise the chances of being seen with me. He was as charming as ever, and when we walked out into the car park he was clearly expecting his usual little treat.

“Joe, I’m sorry, but that’s it. I’m off home; I tried to drop a hint in the pub, but you weren’t listening much. In fact, I realised you never really listen at all. It’s been fun, but I need to move on”

“One last kiss then?”

Sod it, I thought, and the farewell kiss quickly became his usual performance. Then he grabbed my right breast, which was still mostly padding. I felt him freeze, and suddenly he grabbed me between the legs.

I felt the first punch, but not the last.
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I came to with someone bending over me.

“It’s all right, love, I’ve called an ambulance. Who was it, do you know?”

“Joe Evans….I work with him”

The rest was a blur, till I woke properly in the hospital with a WPC by the bed. A male copper came in, and whispered something in her ear. She gave me a look of utter disgust and walked out, leaving him the chair. An hour or so later, two obvious policemen in suits entered the room, and gave the uniform the nod to go.

“So, Mr Powell, where do you want to start? Before or after we charge you?”

I couldn’t work out what was going on, and mumbled something semi-coherent to that effect. Suit two looked disgusted, and Suit one continued.

“Oh come on, you piece of shit, dirty little drag queen queer tries it on with a straight bloke and gets a fucking smack, and then tries to complain? Let’s see: indecent assault, outraging public decency, wasting police time, I wouldn’t be surprised if we couldn’t fit soliciting into the fucking charge sheet.

“I will tell you your fortune now, you dirty little shirtlifting cunt. You will take the treatment this hospital is required to give you, you will fuck off home, and you will leave real men alone, and if I ever, ever see you about I will make sure you get another lesson, wyt ti’n deall? You got me, you little arse bandit?”

Through my shock and tears I spotted someone at the door, a nurse, and she looked as shocked as I felt. After the two pillars of society left the room, she came in and held a glass with a straw to my lips. In a whisper, she reassured me.

“I heard it all, and I couldn’t believe it. Can’t they see who the victim is here? I’m going to leave you my name and that, and if you want to take it further I will be a witness. I can’t believe it, supposed to be bloody coppers”

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I will gloss over events a bit here, as they are still so painful. After discharge, I went back to pick up my bike, only to find it had been torched. Go to the police about it? Yeah, right. I called in sick and took the train home, home to Mam and Dad, everything wrecked along with my nose and cheekbone.

Elaine came home that evening, obviously after a call from the parents, and I have never seen her so angry, before or since.

“Did you get their fucking names, Sar?”

“Language, Elaine.”

“Shut it Mam. And you, where are you off to?”

“Little bastard needs some fatherly advice”

“No, not now, not ever. We get the shit, but we get the coppers as well, and we get them clean, got me?”

As she issued her instructions, there was a knock at the door, and there was Arris. She cried more than anyone else at the mess I was in, As we dried our tears, and Mam made tea for everyone, she confirmed that she knew Joe, and of his reputation as a ‘lady’s man’

“You are so new to this, Sar, love, you haven’t learnt to recognise the bad ones yet”

Dad looked at her hard. “What do you know about my daughter?”

Arris smiled. “Just about everything, and I also love her to bits, just like a sister. Don’t worry about me”

Elaine came back from the calls she had been making, and I introduced Arris, who got a hug.

“Wheels are in motion, girls. They do not do this to my family. Now we just have to find the right way to deal with Mr Evans”

Arris smiled, in a very cold way. “I might just have something available”

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Oh, the detail I could go into, the complaints procedure, the delay and delay till it was out of time for charging Joe with the assault, the out of court settlement paid by the constabulary to me to ‘avoid unnecessary expense to the public purse’; the promotion for Suit one, and the unfortunate release of all the details of the events, as the police saw them, to the local press. With no crime report, I had an awful job getting the insurance people to pay for the bike, and as I hinted at the very start of all this I got the full treatment at work, from sympathy to creepiness.

Physically, I healed well. Mentally, though…

I just couldn’t take it, and needed to get out of the city, away from streets and pubs that reminded me daily of my shame and pain. Addison’s were wonderful, and Queen Bitch, as I still thought of her, sent me a list of vacancies in other branches. Canterbury was there, and as 1999 became 2000 I set off for Dover on my second hand Honda 600. I found a flat to rent in Park Avenue (I liked having the address) in Dover, and I settled down to the rest of my single life. There was no point in getting rid of the wart. Much as I hated the ugly little growth, I couldn’t face the pain of surgery, and there was no real point in it. I realise now how much I hated myself, and as one week led to a month, and a month to a year, I was almost content in my little pit of misery. I could laugh and joke with my colleagues, but I never went out. I didn’t feel safe, even after Arris called me a few months after the settlement.

Apparently, Joe had met with an accident, one that had left him with a number of broken bones and a ruptured testicle. The accident had involved at least three men, one said to be blond and well over six feet tall. They hadn’t sounded local.

Thank you, Arris, thank you Steve.

CHAPTER 9
I settled into my new life after a while, and with the settlement from the police abuse I was able to afford the deposit on a two-bed flat in Crabble.

I had turned thirty in 2000, and as I hit 31 I was finally independent. Eight years after that bastard had ruined my life, I was also still alone. The growth remained as my courage never returned, and I wondered how I had ever found the strength to come out in the first place. I lived as a woman now partly because it was routine. Mostly, of course, because I AM a woman, but there was still the fact that routine left me more at ease.

I had done one big thing, though, and that was to have my poison factories evicted. I was now on HRT in effect, and as I had had the good luck to start earlier than many I was properly rounded, if still a little lean and leggy, not exactly a bad thing. My breasts, as Elaine and my mother had promised, filled out to a C-cup, and I was more than happy with them. I would have been even happier with someone to share them with, but each time I thought of that I felt Joe’s hand between my legs, and his fist breaking my cheekbone, and I knew I would have to stay hidden.

Arris had taken the plunge two years after the assault, and moved to Reading when she married Steve. A year later, and she was the mother of a daughter, the first of her three, two girls and a single boy for Steve to spoil, and I was so, so happy for her and so, so jealous. Never to be a mother, never to hold a child of my own, could anything be better designed to crush me? She was a regular visitor, though, and I settled for what I could get, a soft-touch ‘aunty’ to her brood.

I did get to meet Siá¢n, and she was indeed lovely, and it nearly broke my heart to see how much she and Elaine were in love. All the shit and mess of my life seemed to have done something worthwhile to my parents as well, and they stumped up a lot of the money for a civil partnership ceremony that was a wedding in everything but legal name. I was a bridesmaid, along with Alison, which was a bit of a confusing term given the nature of the celebrants, and for a tiny moment as they kissed and Mam cried as Dad stood up straight and proud in his new suit I was almost grateful to Joe for the changes he had brought to my parents’ lives.

Almost.

I stopped rallying after that night’s pain. It was far too risky, especially if I drank what I usually did at them, and for the same reasons I stopped going to pubs. About the only thing I ever went out for were things like the staff Christmas dinner; all my horizons pulled in tight, as I played my part at work. I seemed to be well liked, and Alan the boss knew just about everything about my history. We had talked it over when I arrived, and he went absolutely white-lipped with anger. He let me know off the record that Joe had been placed under a very close watch, and each little trick had served to stack the deck until he could be eased out of the company. It turned out that the staff in Swansea had been fonder of me than I had realised, and after one too many complaints about ‘inappropriate touching’ they had him.

I still wanted to cut off his remaining ball, though. Bastard. Utter bastard; the hate never, ever left me. The trouble was, every time I thought of him, I cried at my own stupidity, my own daft vulnerability. How could I feel so in need of a man in my life while being so fucking terrified of them?

I put my need into my riding, of both sorts. I was doing long solo cycle rides, out to Grove Ferry to watch the birds and then back round through Sturry and Canterbury for the ford by Patrixbourne and the nasty little climb of Keeper’s Hill and the rolling country through Adisham, Aylesham, Barfrestone and Whitfield to Dover and a shower, my mind wandering as the endorphins swam in my bloodstream.

The Kwak, on the other hand, would serve as my anger beater, allowing me to break down the darkness with the thrill of a main road thrash or a track day at Lydden Circuit., straining to get my knee down as the beast wallowed in the corners and the tacho needle bounced off the rev limiter, abusing the bike for my own pain.

Time just passed me by, as a grey hair or two made an appearance a handful of years before my fortieth. I realised I needed to do something with the life I still had, but it remained easier to do nothing. Work, sleep, see my doctors, and eventually the GP tried me on Prozac, which went into our drugs bin after the first one wore off. Never, ever again.

Alan went part time, eventually, and I just seemed to fall naturally into the branch manager slot when he was off, doubling up as pharmacist. I know this sounds like it all happened in a week, but it was actually spread over more than ten years. Joe robbed me of my youth, then my thirties. Then….then it all fell apart again. All my carefully arranged routine went out of the window, and it happened when I got a phone call from Elaine.

“What are you up to this weekend, sis?”

“Arris was going to visit, why?”

“Siá¢n and I want to visit. You’ve got room, we’ll have the spare room, Arris can have yours and you can have the sofa bed”

Her voice softened. “Sar, love, you can’t go on like this. You’re dying on your feet because of that cunt, and I can’t stand it, and neither can Alison and Siá¢n. You have to learn to live your own life again, and not let him win”

“Easy to say that, love, but it works for me. Tell you what, I’ll see if there‘s any music on at the weekend, and we can have a girly bop, OK?”

I logged onto the internet after we finished our gossip, and looked up the local scene. There was an R&B group down to play Crabble sports club on the Friday evening, and a quick call secured four tickets. I was actually feeling quite excited, rather than nervous; being out with Arris would help, but two coppers watching over me trumped all that. I was ready long before they arrived, in my faithful old leather mini and my spiky boots topped with T-shirt and leather jacket. I didn’t look too bad at all for an old woman heading far too quickly for forty.

Arris was first to arrive, changing in my bedroom into THOSE boots again, and I revised my ideas about myself downwards at the sight of her bending down to adjust the fit. She was blisteringly hot for a mother of three. Elaine put a hand over her wife’s eyes, and called out to Arris “For god’s sakes, woman, give a pair of old dykes some advance warning when you’re going to do that with your arse! Sarah, the restorative cuppa, please, my lady wife is taken with the vapours”

We walked down the footpath to the sports ground arm in arm, four sets of heels clicking away like some much more interesting version of “Sex in The City”, and I felt wonderful for the first time in years. Arris was buzzing about not having the kids for once, and the others were just their usual symbiotic pairing. Life could still please me, it seemed.

The place was bouncing, the girls, including me, were hot to trot, and the band not at all bad. I was almost back to my old wildness, hair everywhere as I danced away, and with my protection I felt able to relax my vigil enough to have a few drinks. I was struggling through the crowd to the bar when a hand came down on my shoulder, and a voice called out “Sarah?”

I looked round, and up, and into a beard and hair speckled with grey and my heart skipped several beats.

“Tony?”

CHAPTER 10
He looked good, in the way that some men manage to do even as age chews at their edges.

A tiny bit heavier, but still fit, still solid rather than fat. I couldn’t help it, and flung myself around him, and wept. I quickly felt Elaine at my shoulder, and before I could tell her it was OK, switch all weapons to safety, she said, as quietly as she could manage in the noise, “So he found you, then?”

A set-up. Arris, obviously, through her husband. I dropped Tony, handing him my purse and telling him what the drinks were, and marched over to a grinning Swansea girl.

“A word, Miss Parry, outside if you please”

I marched out, heels banging, and we found a spot away from the various face-feeding couples over by the cricket screens.

“What the hell do you think you are fucking doing? I get myself straight after one man and you start dragging others in! Leave my life alone, OK?”

I ranted on for a while in similar vein, until Elaine joined us. As I wound down, and into the tears that were still there, she held me close.

“If you call the slow death you are living through ‘getting straight’, there are pigs flying out of Gatwick. And she hasn’t dragged others in, she has asked one rather nice one to say hello again. What you do after that is your call, but just think on this: if you didn’t want to talk to Tony, why did you just hand him all your money and credit cards?”

Arris was crying too, and stepped up to hold the two of us. “I’m really sorry if I have upset you, Sar, I just love you so much it was killing me to watch what you were doing. If you want, I can ask him to leave”

Tony spoke up, just behind me. “She can do that herself, ladies. This is Sarah’s call. Perhaps we can talk together for a bit, see what she thinks?”

Elaine took Arris back inside, Tony handing them my purse with a wry grin and the suggestion that he had something to do just a bit more pressing than buying drinks. We sat down on a low wall, and he put a finger to my lips.

“Just listen for a while, OK? I know about you. I didn’t at the rally all those years ago, but it was a bit difficult to miss after that nastiness. I thought a lot about you then, and I really couldn’t see it. You were all woman to me before that, and after it as well. I’m a bit more open to things than I look, you know.

“When Steve told me about their little trip to the West, I begged him to let me come, but he said no. I could lose my job was the main reason, but he also said that he didn’t want the turd to die, and I might not have the detachment to stop when it was needed. He was right, I think I might actually have been willing to finish him properly, and that would have been the end of us all.

“I should have followed it up, Sarah, but I’d run off when you told me what you did, and I couldn’t risk it, and then it was too late and Annie was there.

“I got married, Sar, and it is not good form to chase up women from your past when you have a wife, and then we had Jim, and we didn’t have Annie any more. And it was all too late, I thought. You know, you sit there, and you think back through your life, all the ‘what-ifs’ and ‘maybes’, and there are regrets. No way do I regret Annie, nor Jim, but I regret you. If we could perhaps recover a bit of friendship, a middle-aged man would be a little happier”

Typically, I asked the least important question first. “What do you mean, what I did?”

He started to laugh. “You sad, when I asked you what you did, that you were a drug dealer, and, well, I am a Customs Officer and…”

We were both laughing now, and then he swept me into his arms and it was good, so good. We settled down into that snuggle where you sit between the legs of your man and lean back onto his chest, and he wraps his arms around you and whispers into your ear. Tony had married an old school girlfriend, and a little boy had followed in due course. Five years old, they took him on the big adventure over to Florida, and after meeting Goofy, and Donald and Mickey they had come back happy and so deeply in love, and the day after, at breakfast, as Jim had tickled his Mam Annie had said something odd about smelling the chipmunks, and a little trickle of blood came down from her nose, and another from her ear and that was it. Some congenital weakness of a blood vessel in the brain, they said, an increase of blood pressure just the wrong way and…pop.

I could feel the tears on my neck and, in yet another of those little moments of insight realised that others could hurt too, perhaps more than me.

Harwich had been too much of a constant reminder of the past and of Annie, and so Tony had asked for and been given a compassionate transfer to Dover, where he spent his time clambering around lorries and loving a seven year old fragment of his lost wife. I pulled him to me, and returned the compliment of his confidences with my own, the pain of what Joe had done to me and the pain of what I now realised I was doing to myself.

“Tony, you have to understand how I am. I can’t just pick up where we left off, I have too many issues in my life, and only the most obvious one is what I am. I have found a way to get along and I will be serious, and honest with you, I do not know if I can come out of there.

“You say you have no problems with who and what I am, but the world does, and most of it doesn’t know.”

“Yes, I know, and most people don’t and wouldn’t care”

“Oh, come on, Tony, look what happened when they found out, even those who were supposed to protect me treated me like shit!”

“Sar, what exactly did they know? Think about it, what did that bastard tell them at the time? And consider this: when was that, and where? We’re well into the next century now, and while East Kent isn’t exactly the centre of the liberal world, it still isn’t West bloody Wales!”

His voice had risen a little, and suddenly he chuckled and whispered “So tell me….is it just the pretty ones they shag out there, or will any sheep do?”

I twisted round to slap him at that, as one must, but I got tangled up, and we fell off the wall onto the grass with a thump, and of course there was nothing else to do but kiss, and cry at the same time, and my head was screaming arguments at itself, about safety, and hurt, and wasted years, and so I just told myself to shut up and for once just seize the moment and live.

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We eventually got to our feet, and rejoined the others, hand in hand, Arris made a little two-fisted gesture of victory, while Elaine mimed collecting winnings from her other half. The band were back on for their second set, and in a rush of wonderful, for once, memories I found myself once again standing in front of Tony, his hands on my hips as I gently bopped to the music, and after a while I let my backside gently brush against him and, yes, he was up for me, and for an instant, just an instant, I was about to rush from the hall and lock myself away at home, but then he kissed the back of my neck, just the once, and it was better.

When he dropped me to get another drink, I watched him at the bar, as a couple of other men spoke to him. He was grinning after they went, and as the band finally finished with a cover of “Sharp Dressed Man” and we could hear again, I asked him what had been said.

“It was a couple of lads from work. In short, they wanted to know why I was so lucky to be able to pick out the only one of the four new girls who was ‘up for it’, and pointed out that I already knew you, and Rob said I was just like a bloody German”

“Eh?”

“You know, I had my beach towel out on the sun lounger, booked in advance, sort of thing”

I thought for a while, but a short one, and as the girls rejoined us I uttered that old line, “Want to come back to mine for coffee?”

“I thought you’d never ask!”

Arris was grinning so much I thought the top of her head would fall off. She held up her mobile. “Steve says he bet me a fiver you would ask him back, and that he is texting Tony to tell him he wants pictures”

I was laughing by now. “How many of you are involved in this little scheme?”

Arris’ grin switched to the ‘innocent little girl’ look, and she sad “Well, we left the kids out of it…”

I don’t need to go into details of the way we piled into my living room, and chatted about nothing and everything, just getting back to where we could have been, might have been, and for an instant, one silly moment, I saw that Alison was the only one of us not in a cuddle, and I called her over to settle into my spare arm, and how much I truly loved her rose up and threatened to drown me.

Surely ,if this world could make people like Arris, it could accept people like me?

CHAPTER 11
Tony finally went home at about two and with a last round of hugs we girls settled down in our respective beds.

I was lying there in my oversized T-shirt and knickers, listening to the whirr of the fridge in the kitchen, and wondering where exactly my life was headed. The girls were right, of course. I had to do something to break myself out of the rut I was in, a rut now so deep I couldn’t see out of it. I still had the big problem, of course, and that was my body. No matter how it had changed, it still carried that last little bit outside, and nothing inside. I was so deeply, deeply envious of Arris in her ability to give birth, to bring life into the world. Even Elaine and Siá¢n, with a little help, could do that, and the phrase “we girls” just rubbed it in.

How had Tony’s mates seen us as we came in? Two not-too-bad looking women…oh, sod it, they’re rug munchers, but hey, their two friends don’t look bad. That one with the boots…..and the legs on that one in the miniskirt….

That was probably a pretty fair idea of what went through their minds, but I could just imagine the change in attitude if they knew what Joe had found, and I am sure there would be plenty of Joes around to explain my problem to me.

Could I lumber Tony with that? He wasn’t alone now, he had a little boy to think about, and it surely wouldn’t be fair to burden a child with that sort of nastiness. I grabbed Arthur, my old bear and night friend, and curled up to await the real morning, unsleeping.

Which was not true, as so often. Arris woke me with a cuppa, sliding into bed beside me, and giving me a hug. She brushed my hair out of my face to see me better.

“How are you feeling today?”

“Confused….I have no idea where this should go.”

I explained the worries that had kept me awake, and she smiled lopsidedly.

“You are forgetting one big thing, here. You are leaving one factor out, and it’s a big one: what does Tony want? You are looking at all or nothing in your mind, and he may be seeking something in between, with an option to go further if you work out together. That’s how most men think, you know. Look at Steve and me, we didn’t just leap into things, we spent a while getting to know each other, and it seemed right, and it was right.”

“If I remember correctly, you got to know him four times the first time you met him!”

“Second time, actually. I almost left him alone on the Friday night.”

She sat up and looked at me again, eyes sad.

“You’ve never, ever made love, have you? Just had that twat use you? I am so sorry for you, you don’t deserve what life has done to you, never mind what he did. But it stops now. Life is going to open up for you, if we can do anything. So…take my advice, hey? It’s never about all or nothing, it’s about taking what you can get, especially when it is freely and willingly given, and seeing how it goes. Look where it got me, look where it got Elaine. Call him, just chat. I truly hate to say it, because I love you, but you are really someone with nothing to lose. Call him this morning and see what move he wants to make”

She passed me the phone and a piece of paper from her handbag which carried Tony’s number and address, obviously via Steve. It turned out he was living just down the road from Crabble, and if I had been working n Dover rather than Canterbury I would have ridden past his house every morning. A very young voice answered the phone,

“Hello, who are you?”

“Is that Jim? Can I speak to your daddy, please?”

I heard him shout with the phone still held near his mouth. Ouch.

“Nana, some lady wants daddy!”

Out of the mouths of babes…a woman’s voice came on, with quite a strong East Anglian accent. “Hello, it’s his mother, can I help? He’s gone to get the paper”

“Can you tell him Sarah rang? I was just wondering what his plans were for the weekend”

Oops, was that a bit too pushy? His mother came back with a laugh.

“Hello, dear, I’m Enid, it’s lovely to finally speak to the girl he’s been going on about. He hasn’t stopped talking since Steve rang him. Why don’t you come round so we can meet properly? I‘ve got to see the girl that got him smiling again, or am I being a bit pushy for you?”

Another moment of insight, as I realised that I wasn’t the only nervous one. I explained that I had a houseful, and took the plunge.

“Why don’t you all pop up here for some lunch? Nothing special, I was just going to sit everyone down around some fish and chips, if that would do?”

“That would be wonderful, and as he will be the only man, he can go and get them for us!”

I liked the sound of this woman, and after we arranged to meet at half eleven, I started to panic. The place was a mess, and I was rushing around trying to tidy it as much as possible in the time I had left. Elaine wondered in, wrapped in my dressing gown and yawning, and asked me what the fuss was all about. Arris laughed

“Visit from the prospective mother in law in an hour and a half!”

The pillow I threw scored a direct hit.

The female dilemma then struck me. What the hell to wear? Last night’s gig rig would be completely wrong for Enid, and something formal would frighten Jim, and….

Arris was holding some clothes out to me. “I know. Just put these on”

A pair of well-worn, comfortable jeans, and a much snappier cream cotton blouse. Comfy, but still tidy. My old deck shoes finished it off, and Elaine attacked my bird’s nest with a brush as I put on a minimal layer of make up. All girls dressed, all beds tidied, the bell rang exactly at eleven thirty, and there was Tony in the male equivalent of my clothing, together with a short, plump woman in slacks, and a small, sandy-haired boy.

“Hello, Enid, Jim, kettle’s on”

“What about me?”

I handed Tony a piece of paper and some cash. “There’s the order. See you when you get back!”

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I sat Enid and Jim down with a cuppa and an orange juice respectively, and we all made careful and obvious appraisal of each other. Jim had brought a comic along, and sat reading as the women talked over his head. Enid was very direct.

“I remember when Tony first met you, and he raved about this gorgeous girl he’d met in Wales, and how it was such a pity she was on the wrong side.”

“One silly joke when drunk….”

“Yes, indeed. I should tell you now that Tony has indeed told me about you. All about you”

“Ah”

“You are not what I expected. I can’t see any man in you at all”

Arris nearly choked. “Cause she’s never had a man in her, poor girl!”

That broke the mood, and Enid came forward and pulled me into a hug.

“Thank you. You have made my son smile, and I can’t see any way I could ever repay that in any way that would be in any way adequate. Oh dear, I am babbling”

Elaine chipped in. “It has taken a lot of years to get my sister smiling again, and Tony has done that, so I think the accounts sort of balance out. We have given Sar her instructions and they are simple. Each day is a gift, to be enjoyed as it comes, and if things go well, then good, and if not, there is always another day.

“We are going to see where this goes, with no preconceptions. I say ‘we’ because it is about time this stupid woman recognised the fact that she is not and never has been alone.”

Enid laughed. “You sound like me!”

Elaine gave her a rueful look. “Wait till you meet our Dad!”

Tony arrived to find us all happy, and hungry, and I even found some chocolate in the fridge as a pudding for Jim. Look, I’m a woman, right? Women–chocolate. It was Green and Black’s special stuff, so I nearly pretended I didn’t have any, but it was for a little boy, and his smile repaid me.

Elaine was dead right, and this was a bloody good day. We spent the afternoon walking along Langdon Cliffs above the Eastern Docks, just getting to know each other while Tony bored everyone by naming all the ships, and Jim asking when they could next go into the castle. France was visible over the Channel, ships beyond counting threading the water. Tony got me alone for a few minutes while Jim and the others were pony-watching, and asked how I was feeling.

“Elaine and Arris have both been on my case, you know, about you”

“I am sure they have. What are they telling you?”

“To take one step at a time, no preconceptions, no goal beyond being happy”

“Sensible girls. Do you mind if I walk that bit with you and see where we go?”

“I would mind it if you didn’t, so just shut up for a minute and kiss me, OK?”

He did, and it was good, and Jim saw, and poked his Nana, and she smiled. I didn’t see that bit, but Arris saved it up to tell me later.

I suppose I should mention the small fact that Tony and I had been holding hands since leaving my house. That evening, Enid insisted on doing a proper tea for everyone, though Elaine and Siá¢n had to leave for home early, so it was just five for the meal.

The evening brought back so many memories, of home and similar meals with my family, especially the ones after I had stopped hiding as a boy and could just be myself. Happy chatter, mock fights over the last cake or scone, Tony’s hand on mine under the table.

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The next day, Sunday, he was coming to Crabble anyway, for a rugby match. I had so much to learn about him, including the bit that Arris seemed obsessed about (naughty girl), and it was going to be very nice indeed finding out all the little details of his life. He was playing Number 8 in an inter- Customs game, and I stood on the touchline, Jim holding Enid’s hand as he watched his big strong Dad flatten lots of strangers. He didn’t have it all his own way, taking a few knocks of his own, especially from a suicidally aggressive flanker with a ginger pony tail, but he held his own.

I can’t remember the score. Enid went to the ladies’ part way through, and I ended up with a little man holding my hand as we both watched the big ones.

More insight, another moment of realisation. As Dad smacked into yet another airport player, I realised that there were other ways to become a Mam.

CHAPTER 12
I had left Arris with some instructions and a spare key, and true to her nature she rang me at about one thirty to say all was ready.

I had asked her to do a run up to the supermarket at Whitfield, and as my part of the weekend’s events I was hoping to entrap the three others remaining with a proper roast dinner. The match was a morning event, and as usual was followed by pie, peas and beer for the players. I was impressed by Tony; either he was staying sober for the safety of his little boy, or he was terrified of his mother, but he only had two pints after coming out of the showers.

Once in the bar, I made my offer. It would obviously be an evening meal, but Enid and Arris were both staying till Monday morning, so that would be fine. I asked Jim a question, knowing that Arris was still at the shop.

“Little man, if we have a big dinner tonight, what would you like for pudding?”

“Daddy, can I have pud tonight? Can I have ice cream and jelly?”

Tony looked down at him. “You can ask Sarah yourself, son. She is a nice lady”

“Sarah, can I have jelly and ice cream please?”

“I think so. Now, we are having roast pork. Do you like roast pork?”

“Will there be apple sauce?”

“I think it is against the law to eat roast pork without it! Hang on, I will call my maid”

I rang her on her mobile. “Parry, further instructions. Raspberry ripple ice cream, apple sauce and strawberry jelly. No, not for the same plate. And a good wine? Great, I’ll start peeling and stuff once you’re back. Kettle’s on”

Enid looked a little concerned, and as Tony took Jim to the bar for another round of drinks she collared me. “Are you sure you are up to this, my dear?”

“Enid, this is something I wish I had ‘been up to’ a decade and more ago. Tony didn’t waste his life, he helped make his little boy, but I wasted mine. All that fear, all that bitterness, just because I couldn’t see past one piece of shit. Sorry…”

“Sarah, if shit is the worst word you come out with I think we can cope. Jim seems to like you. He’s not been very at ease around women since his mother went.”

“I hate to say it, but I am more worried about what Tony thinks of me! Jim is sort of a surprise. I mean, his welfare overrides mine, but I hadn’t thought about a child in tow behind any man I found”

“You really need to sort your eyes out, my girl. If you can’t see what Tony thinks of you….”

“Yeah, I scrub up well, but face facts, what is in my knickers is not exactly normal, is it?”

“And you can’t change that?”

“I really don’t know…look, it got me beaten badly, but since then I have stayed out of trouble. If I had had a change there, I would have been tempted to look at other men”

“And you haven’t?”

Oh god, if she only knew. I was healthy, still young, full of dreams and hopes and randy as a teenager, yet my secret was something that could get me killed.

“Yes, I have. Think about it: suppose I had the op, suppose I found ‘the man’, we get close, we get really close because I have nothing physical in the way, it comes out, and I end up beaten again, or possibly dead.

“Enid, safer by far to not give myself the temptation”

“Tony knows all about you. You think that of my son?”

I adore your son….the tears started.

“No, I don’t, but it is all too late now to make up for all my mistakes”

She handed me a tissue. “Can I suggest you see what he thinks before you decide? They’re coming back now. Please give him a chance”

Give HIM a chance? It was me that needed the leeway. Unformed, incomplete, my moment of surrogate motherhood holding Jim’s hand suddenly hurt me deeply. I could never achieve completion, never be whole. He was at the table.

“Why the tears, Sar?”

“Can I tell you later? Come on, time to get back to mine. I have a lot of preparation to do. Jim, Arris has got the pudding, and has also found a couple of videos. Nana can make cups of tea for the workers, and Daddy, I know you have had a shower, but would you like a proper soak in a bath to ease some of those bruises?”

“Ooooooooh yes! Got any bath salts?”

“I know a girl who might have bought some if she can read a list”

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Arris was unloading as we walked back across the sports fields to the flat. I started by soaking the skin of the pork joint for a while, as Enid attacked the potatoes and Arris sorted the sprouts and carrots. Once the main vegetables were prepared and sitting in water I put the kettle on to make us all another cup of tea and started the bath running for Tony, who was stiffening up slightly after the game. In with the muscle-soak mixture, and a couple of candles lit. I love lying in the bath, just by the light of a candle or two, with some music playing outside the door and a scented bath bomb fizzing away. It is my little retreat from the world, the antithesis of thrashing the Kwak or pushing myself on the road bike. Often, I wake up to cooling water and wrinkled skin, and it is one way of sleeping when I find that hard.

Tony settled himself in the bathroom once it was ready, and I returned to the kitchen to sort the tea. Enid looked at me, a little nervously it seemed.

“He likes a cuppa in the bath, Sarah”

I stared at her. Was she serious?

“Are you suggesting…?”

“I am indeed. I think I understand you, at least a little. You are a coward, that is how you see yourself. Am I right?”

“Yes”. A very small voice, but she was so right.

“How many years of life have you lost? Too many. I can’t believe I am saying this about my own son, with his little boy in the house, but I really think you need to jump in with both feet, and right now. I have seen how you look at him, and I have heard what he thinks of you, and I have watched my boy very closely around you. For god’s sake, girl, do something for yourself for once!”

I giggled a little at this, and she gave me a sharp look before the realisation hit her.

“No, not both feet into the bath, silly! Here…”

She handed me a cup of tea and pushed me towards the bathroom. I took a couple of deep breaths and opened the door.

Tony was stretched full length, his head resting on the end of the bath, and unfortunately for Arris’ curiosity a raft of bubbles covering…that. He was still solid, just a little bit of excess at the sides of his waist, a reasonable mat of dark hair covering his chest. There were bruises there, a couple of stud marks. He realised I was there, and his hands dropped to cover what was already underwater. I put the cup down next to him, trembling with fear. Coward….no, not today.

“Sit up, Tone, I’ll do your back”

He slid up the bath to a sitting position, back bowed forward, and I caught just a glimpse, and realised that Joe had been short-changed indeed. Tony’s back was covered in welts from boot studs from where he had been on the ground in rucks, and as I soaped it could feel little nubs and lumps where ribs had cracked and healed.

This was erotic. All of the fumbling with Joe, all the hasty blow jobs, had been exciting, in the way that teenaged lust can be, but this was erotic in the true sense. I could feel the muscles move under the skin and under my hands as I changed my soaping into a proper neck massage, and then Tony simply turned his head and kissed me, gently but deeply, and I put my arms around him, as my blouse got wetter, and my nipples ached and my stomach churned with nerves and desire, and he thumbed one of my breasts and I moaned softly into his mouth and I realised that sometimes mothers do know best.

And some time later I slipped into my bedroom to change my top as Tony dried off, and as I returned to the kitchen Arris just smiled and asked how wet the other blouse had got. Enid said nothing, but hugged me tight, and we three women got back to making my crackling-special roast pork dinner.

CHAPTER 13
I make my crackling the old-fashioned way. Ish. After scoring and soaking the skin, I pat it dry and then rub it with olive oil. Sea salt is then rubbed into it, and the oven turned up high for the last twenty minutes of cooking. The result is a lovely brown crispness that rises clear away from the meat and just screams “Eat me!”

The meal was a good one, as I will insist on claiming, but it wasn’t just my cooking. I was glowing with what had happened, even though it had not involved any actual…well, I have to be a little blunt here. I had pleased Tony, with results that had been very obvious to both of us, but there was nothing much he could do to me, or rather that I would allow him to. That was what I had thought.

What he had done was both romantic and sensual. Please do not expect a blow-by-blow description, and try hard not to raise a dirty laugh at those words. Tony had been gentle, sensual, loving and very simply nice to me in ways that were not what most people think of as sexual. He made me safe, he made me warm, he made me feel desired, and any girl will tell you that all that, especially combined with some exquisite teasing of areas of my chest, is what is really wanted. I felt real, for the first time, and I felt hope.

End of description. Live with it.

Jim seemed to have relaxed after watching various episodes of the videos Arris had found, and the adults were in that odd state where conversation starts and stops as flavours hit and wine is sipped. I realised that two friends were leaving me the next day, not just one, and that was another dose of warmth. I had work the next day, and for once I was looking further ahead than the next track day at Lydden.

Tony was talking to Jim, and I let him finish before asking my question. Too many adults think that children can be turned off for their own conversation, and then wonder why their kids grow up lacking social skills.

“Tone, have you still got the Duke?”

“Oh god yes. Got two more as well, now, sort of got silly a bit after the house got emptier. “

“I got silly as well, but I kept it down to 600cc. ZZR Kwak, goes ok.”

“Well….as you can guess, taking Jim on the Ducati would not exactly meet with Mum’s approval”

“Dead bloody right” came the interjection. Tony continued,

“Never been fond of Jap stuff, so I got a Guzzi Cali with a chair, and then I got my dream bike…..”

He was zoned out, in a world of bliss all of his own. Enid sighed.

“Every time he mentions that old thing he gets all silly”

“Earth and Sar to Tony…what is it?”

“Wideline with the bottom tubes splayed, and a Black Shadow. Double leading shoe front, with air scoops, and clip ons, Venom seat retailored to remove the cut out, decent Avon boots, proper electrics….”

My heart surged. As a woman, especially one who had just made love, my heart was filled. As a biker, hearing that my beloved had a Norvin, I was smitten with lust.

Rewind. ‘Beloved’?

Yes. He was. I realised that with the same certainty that I knew I was female. And he not only had two classic Italian V-twins, but a Norvin. How could a girl not love him?

Sorry, I should explain a few things to the cage-bound readers here. A Mike Hailwood Replica is a classic Ducati race bike, a 900 cc V-twin. A Moto Guzzi California is another Italian V-twin, in this case attached to a sidecar for safe transportation of kids, dogs and mothers.

But a Norvin….is a wideline Norton ‘featherbed’ frame, with the bottom tubes spread apart with a jack so that the sump of the HRD Vincent Black Shadow one litre V-twin engine can drop down to lower the centre of gravity and thus improve the handling. The world’s fastest bike of its day, shoehorned into the best handling frame. Sex on wheels, and he had it.

Where did he hide the keys?

Tony was grinning. “I am not telling you where I hide the keys”

Enid just smiled. Arris had to clear wine from her nose. Jim looked serious.

“Daddy, when are we going to go on the bike with the tent again?”

I looked at Tony. “You still rally?”

“Whenever I can. Jim here was a rally virgin when he was three”

I laughed, “Arris was one when you met her!”

“Oooooh, lucky escape! Remember the naked man?”

“Tone, you know I didn’t remember some of that first night, but, if I can find ways to speak past small folk, I remember and have remembered every day, every other minute of that weekend. Do you remember that quarry, looking over the fields from the hilltop? We had dinner after, at the pub, the four of us”

“Bloody hell, girl, you have a good memory”

“For things that are important, yes. Do you remember that day?”

“Every minute. Remember dancing in front of me to the band?”

“Tone, I could tell you things about that, but I can’t decide who it is more important to keep the details from, your saintly mother, your innocent child, or Arris the gob here”

Enid started to laugh. “You know, I think we might just have started breaking down some silly old walls here. Tony, why don’t you have a chat with Alison and Steve about a get together?”

I suddenly realised where this might go.

“How many seats in the chair, Tone?”

“Double adult”

“So…two kids in the chair, another pillion, the eldest pillion with Steve, Arris and me on our own bikes….how does that sound?”

Enid raised a hand. “What about me? I was a girl guide, I know how to camp”

“How do you feel about naked men?”

“With my hands, usually!”

Oh dear, I could see exactly where Tony came from, and as I looked at Arris chuckling, I wondered if there had been some odd genetic transfer coast-to-coast.

I decided to lay down a few rules. “OK, I’ll crank up the ‘puter after we clear up, and we’ll look to see what’s on. Not too far away, so the kids don’t get bored, between here and Reading so we equalise travel, and it needs to be an MCC do, small, with a pub attached so we have somewhere dry.”

For those, once again, unfamiliar with life, MCC stands for ‘Motorcycle Club’, and is a local social club for people who ride bikes. Generally speaking, they wear an embroidered club badge on the upper left of their chest, a ‘front patch’. MC, on the other hand, stands for ‘Motorcycle Club’, but they wear a much larger cloth patch on their backs and are a completely different sort of group, including such people as Satan’s Slaves and the Angels. Not people I wanted to expose the kids to, but for an instant I did wonder what Enid would do to them.

And there, on the internet, was exactly the sort of thing I was after, in a couple of week’s time. Based on a farm near Crawley, with a pub next door, the Sussex Borderers MCC were having their tenth rally. There was a phone number…Arris began a long call to Steve. And yes, he was up for it, and the girls were very up for it, and once he got the lad off the games console he was sure that he would say yes. I looked at Enid again.

“No, my dear, this is a time for the elders to take a step back. You take my boys, and you bring them back happy and well, is all I ask”

We were on. Now…did I still have a tent in any fit state?

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CHAPTER 14
I saw almost everyone out of the house at eight, Jim being young enough to need a curfew. Arris and I settled down on the refolded sofa for a snuggle and a chat, with a glass each of a big fat red. I hugged her.

“Thank you. That’s about all I can say, and it doesn’t start to cover what you have done for me.”

“Sar, I owe you for a husband and three kids……and some rather amazing sex getting them!”

“Alison Parry, why do you always have to bring the conversation round to shagging?”

“Because, at the end of the day, it is what life is about. We are born, we die, and part way between we try and leave something behind to carry on for us, and getting that is such fun!”

She realised what she had said as I started to cry.

“Oh, Sar, I’m sorry, I didn’t think”

“You have no idea how that hurts me, Arris, never to have a child. Before you say it, yes, I could have done it as Sam, but I would most probably have crashed and burned long before any kids, and women just don’t do it for me.

“I mean, even my sister can do that, her and Siá¢n, so why not me?”

“There are other women who can’t give birth, love”

“I’m not a fucking woman, am I? I’ve got a fucking cock down there!”

“Sar, that can be changed, you know that”

“If wasn’t such a coward I could have done that years ago, and then with Tony, in the bathroom….I could have been right for him, but I’m not, and I really love that man, and I am so frightened. All he needs is to see a real woman and I’m lost, I have lost.”

“What happened to the girl in the wet blouse walking on air?”

“She woke up”

“Sar, listen to me. There is a lot you don’t know. Steve and Tony are as close as ever, and I am far closer to my Viking than anyone else. We talk. I am not saying that getting you two together again was my idea, but I had a lot of input.

“Even when Tony was getting married, and having a son, he still talked about you. It wasn’t that he wasn’t in love, it was more fond memories, ‘what-ifs’, and I had to bite my tongue. You had run away, and I couldn’t break that confidence because I love you so deeply.

“You came into my little world, and turned it upside down in the best of all ways, and I can never repay that, as I keep bloody telling you. I was wrong, I admit that. I left you to heal, that was what I thought, and I lied about where you were to Tony, and made Steve keep quiet as well.

“I was wrong, I realised that some time ago. You weren’t healing, you were fading away, and I couldn’t stand watching that.. So, I did something, I broke your confidence, and please believe me I did that out of love.

“Listen, Sar. You have a chance now. He is dotty about you, and he knows all about you, because I told him everything, and he DOESN’T CARE! You have a real chance, love, and if you don’t get off your arse and grab it with both hands I will personally strangle you. Now, what are we going to tell your GP, and when?”

“What do you mean?”

“You hate your cock? Fine, we change that. I’ll be there, all the way, and so will Tony, if you just let him, and if things work out, so will Jim. Oh, yes, I have seen how you look when you hold his hand, and if you can’t have the pain I have had, you have a chance at the joy.

“Now, are you listening to me? Or do I have to put you over my knee and wallop some fucking sense into you? Come here….”

We ended up in bed together, spooned up, Arris warm behind me, her presence driving out all of the demons and some of the fears, and I fell asleep to the murmuring of Pandora in my head.

Hope….

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I saw Arris off home in the morning, with a hug and a new threat of spanking, and from work I rang my GP’s surgery for an appointment. I also had a quiet word with Alan.

“Alan, I may be needing a bit of time off sick in a little while”

“Who is he, Sarah?”

Bloody hell.

“How did you know?”

“Well, I caught part of your conversation with the surgery, you seem almost happy today, and you were seen snogging on the cliffs by Dover”

Oops. “A very old friend, just come back into my life.”

“Are you happy, Sarah?”

“I would like to be, but I don’t know if I have the guts”

“I gather this guy is not like the little shit in Swansea?”

I smiled fondly. “Other than that he is male, not in any way at all”

“You will be aware of company policy on the procedure I am assuming you want to talk to your quack about? All I want is a couple of promises.”

“Whatever you need, Alan, just ask”

“Advance warning when you set off for it, so I can get a locum in to cover you. An assurance that you will be coming back afterwards, because I value you. And finally….”

He grinned. “I want an invitation to the wedding”

“That’s a bit premature, Al!”

“Not by the look in your eyes when you talk about him, kiddo”

He turned serious. “You have had too many years of shit, and if I can do anything to help, I will. Now go and get your man, but out of work time, OK?”

Everyone else seemed to see things better and more clearly then I could. Perhaps they were right. Arris had been so fierce in her pushing. I realised, finally, that it was time to give in and do as I was told. Three days later I was on the waiting list for the surgery.

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The weekend of the rally came around, and our little convoy left Dover. Just to get the transport right, and in defiance of all logic, we actually rode all the way to Reading, only to come back on ourselves once children were loaded up. I hate chairs, as the steering is reversed from bikes as soon as you add a sidecar, and they corner very differently to the right from how they do to the left. For some reason, Tony wouldn’t let me take the Norvin, so I was on my Kwak. Straight up the M20 to the M25 we went, and then rumbled round that to the short cut I use across through Bracknell to Reading, where we collected the others. As the chair was a double adult, we actually managed to get three of the kids comfortable in it, Jim, Suzy and little Stevie, so that Steve was able to carry most of their camping kit while Arris took little Ali pillion. On a lovely early Autumn Friday afternoon, three bikes and a combination retraced the route to the M23, peeling off by Gatwick and looping round through a maze of streets in Horley until the site was found. Nice and level, some high hedges to keep the wind off, I sent two of the kids out to find some empty drinks cans as the adults started erecting things.

Motorcycle. Grass. Side stand. The mixture generally causes the bike to end on its side as the stand simply pushes into the dirt. A flattened can, or a piece of wood, stops that. Stevie and Ali were soon back with some bits of plywood the organisers had put by for exactly that reason, and I realised we might have a rather well-organised do here.

I had not brought a tent, as when I dug it out….well, stuff decays when left unused, and Tony promised me he had space, and that felt rather an attractive idea. So, I had splashed out on a decent sleeping bag and a self-inflating mat, got some gas for my little stove, and had the usual girly dilemma about what to wear.

I wanted to look GOOD for Tony, good enough to make the other men jealous and Tony proud. The other girls would be jealous as a matter of course, because both he and Steve were spoken for. Not that I was lusting after my best friend’s husband…oh, you know exactly what I mean. All of that had to be balanced against being outdoors in a field, and leaving rather a lot of space for important things, such as extra sets of clothing for the kids.

Arris and Steve had an odd thing with two sleeping compartments and a central eating area. Tony’s was smaller, a simple dome with two large porches. Plenty of room to lie down in, but it did mean that I would be sleeping right next to both boys. Somehow, I didn’t mind that. The rally seemed, at first sight, to be really family-friendly, and I was amused to find that it was timed to coincide with the neighbouring pub’s World Tiddly Winks Championship, so kids of all ages would be there.

Jim surprised me; in a seriously solemn tone he gave me strict advice about how I should loft my sleeping bag before going out, and I had to break the Little Lecturer mood by producing Arthur, who always came on rallies with me. He giggled, and showed me the miniature sleeping bag his mother had sewed for his rabbit, Peter, and I really wished I had thought of that little trick.

We finished pitching, and booked in, wandering over to the pub for a look at the bar menu. Rallies tend to suffer a bit from the Great Cheeseburger Plague when it comes to food, so we were quite pleased to see a decent range of eats. The truly important job was sorted out while we had a coffee on the terrace: babysitting. It is all too easy to forget kids on such a weekend; one beer leads to another, and suddenly the child’s time consists of long lonely evenings and nights awaiting a drunken parent. Yes, we would have a drink, but there would always be at least one person with the kids and sober. This was a family weekend, and we would do family things. The kids would stay up as long as they wanted, which simply meant that when the excitement wore off, they would fall asleep all of half an hour after their normal time.

I was really excited myself.

CHAPTER 15
The Friday evening was a good one. The children all knew each other well, so they were more than relaxed, and the boy-girl balance left them bouncing happily off each other in the best way.

It was so sweet to be out again in the foursome of old, each now with so many shared stories. Time had dulled our urge to drink ourselves stupid, and the presence of four happy little rug rats confirmed that, so we alternated between sitting in a corner and chilling, and getting up to shake those bits that were getting wobblier. I started to laugh at that point, and Tone asked why.

“Look, this is bloody weird, here I am worried about saggy tits, and I’ve still got you know what down there!”

He gave me a surreptitious squeeze. ”Nothing saggy there, love”

“Don’t touch what you haven’t paid for”

“And what’s the price?”

“A kiss for starters….”

Radar Arris was on full strength and I just caught the flash of her camera. Sod.

I raved out a bit to the rock disco, as did the girls and ,to my surprise, Jim, who was doing his best to strut his stuff to a mean air guitar…and then…

There is a band, whose music I have never, ever owned. I have seen them live once, at a rock festival, and they were great fun to bop to, but the temptation to go shopping still slept. There is one track, though, that I just have to get up and get down to. The getting down HAS to be ace dancing, that odd thing where you stand wide legged, thumbs tucked into belt, the dancing consisting entirely of dropping alternate shoulders forward while hair flies.

Here is my shameful admission. The track is ‘Caroline’, by, er, um, status quo…..nothing to see here, please move along and forget I said that.

It came on. I got up, and after ten or twenty seconds I had all the kids round me as we aced our way through the music. Jim was developing a real swagger, and I realised he would be a great dancer when older, or maybe a climber. He had that same innate balance and sense of position that his dad showed on the rugby pitch, not effeminate in any way, just graceful, and I saw that the little man, far more than the other three, was seriously into the music. There was a lot going on behind his eyes, I realised.

I also realised that if he was as bright and perceptive as he seemed he could be easily hurt, so I had better be absolutely spot on in what I did. Arris was so right, this was a chance for so many people to get it right, and it was me that was the pivot.

We hit the sack early that night, in deference to four little people and a long day ,as yet another plane droned in en route to the nearby airport. We adults sat out under the clear night sky to share a bottle of wine before sleep. Steve stroked my cheek softly.

“It is so good to see you again, girl. And better still to see you smiling at last.”

“I can’t say how good this is for me, Steve, the only words I have are ‘thank you all’ “

I paused, but this needed saying. “We are all here for the first time since…things. I am not going to be specific, because there may still be little ears about, but I know what you did for me, and, Tony, I know you would have. Steve was right to keep you out”

“He said I wouldn’t know when to stop”

Steve chuckled. “I stopped too soon, he still has one working”

Gallows humour…”The past is the past” I sighed, “but we are all here now, so can I propose a toast? I have a long way to go. There is surgery ahead, and a lot of baggage to discard, for both Tone and myself, and above all there is a little man to think of. So…to the future?”

We drank to that, and it was finally becoming visible to me.

Into the tents at last, and there was Peter in his sleeping bag cuddled up to Jim, and I realised that I would have Tony between me and Jim, and for a moment I worried that he would get cold on the outside, but Tony laid his fleece over the little form, and I realised that the sneaky bloke had zipped our two bags together. So, my first night on the rally was spent sleeping nearly naked cuddled up to a fully naked man I had no complaints, especially as I had brought my little foam ear plugs.

No sex, just love.

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We had a decent breakfast over at the pub in the morning, and the kids were clamouring for two things: to see the aeroplanes, and to go to the seaside. Jim was smug at that, as he lived by the sea, but the other three were insistent. I had an idea.

“There’s free bike parking at the airport, and a station. If we run the kids up with the chair, then bring it back here, Tone can go pillion with Steve to get back to the rest of us.”

So we did. There was a pub overlooking the apron, so we took a seat there, with a pot of tea and some cokes for the kids, and they were enthralled by the activity outside the windows. As that wound down, we made our way through a concourse seemingly filled with the pinkly obese. Trains to Brighton were regular and frequent, and we were soon walking down the busy road that leads to the remaining pier.

We negotiated a treaty in advance: three rides or games each, and that would be all. No begging, no pleading, or no pier, and a fish dinner would depend on good behaviour. Kids are easy. Just threaten them with extreme violence, such as refusing access to candy floss, and you have them.

There is a change in attitude that comes with parenthood, even if it is surrogate, where the rides and activities that thrilled you when young are experienced again through the eyes of today’s child. That was how it was, four screamingly happy juniors under the gaze of two couples of handholding adults.

That was something that always endeared Arris to me. I know, there are so many things that do that, but she never, ever seemed to fall out of the first flush of love with Steve. Looking at them, no stranger could ever doubt how they felt, and I just hoped that in the years to come Tony and I would…..slow down, Sarah.

Happy times, screaming children, swooping rides, and a fish and chips dinner with mushy peas and buttered bread to make the obligatory chip sandwiches, and then we took a ride on Volks Electric Railway out to the Marina and back. It’s not an exciting ride, but there were four little kids, and two big ones.

We returned to the airport after a full day, and the boys shot off to collect the chair as we watched some more aeroplanes. Back to the site, and the first beers of the day for the boys as we girls had drawn kidwatch duty. It really was a family friendly rally, with a lot of kids running around with no fear or nerves at all, it seemed, and no adults yelling at them to stop. Happy children, around people who understood the concept of play and fun, I felt I had returned home.

The evening had a couple of sessions by a decent covers band I had never heard of, but time flashed back for me as I stood in front of Tony, his hands on my hips, and a hardness in his trousers, as so many years ago. Arris noticed my look, and had a little chat with Jim.

“Tony, Sarah, would you mind if Jim had a sleepover with our three? It would be fun, if we can stop them giggling all night”

Bless you, girl, I was randy as anything, and as I was leaning back against Tone I pressed my bum against him and ground it ever so slightly. He seemed to have difficulty in speaking, but managed to get his agreement out.

We had a very pleasant night, discussing poetry and knitting. As you do. And all that knit one, purl one, cast one led to something I had never experienced before, but definitely loved, and that was my first ever orgasm.

Arris tells me I am very loud.

CHAPTER 16
And that, it seemed, was a watershed. We returned the Reading crew to their home on the Sunday, with much nudge wink from the two biggest ones ( I can’t bring myself to say ‘adults’), and then the three of us found a cross-country backroads way so we could enjoy the ride.

Enid was waiting for us in Dover at Tony’s place, with a tea prepared, salad and nibbly things. Tony was on nights the following week, and she made regular trips to babysit, especially when Tone was on late shifts and unable to pick the lad up from school. I had a thought, and before it could escape I let it out under control.

“Is there any way I could help with Jim? I mean, on the lates I could always collect him from the child minder at about five, which is better than Enid having to come all that way”

She smiled. “I love seeing my grandson, but you are right, if Jim is OK with you, that would work well”

Oddly, Tony didn’t say anything ,just went to a cupboard, came back and kissed me, and put a spare set of keys into my hand, smiling.

And that was the start of another stage in my life, looking after a little boy, who held my hand and smiled when he saw me. I can find no words to describe the surge of joy I get every time he does that. I ended up, of course, spending more time at their house than at mine, especially when Tone was on nights and I would stay with Jim and see him to school before work.

It was all too good to keep going on like that, of course , and the change duly came. Tony came in looking a little tense, some four months after the rally and just after Christmas.

“Sar, I have been thinking a lot about where this is going. Jim needs stability, need some form of certainty, and it’s not fair to just keep stringing you along”

Oh shit.

“No, love, don’t look like that!”

He chuckled, which eased my worries a little. “I am never good at getting this sort of thing out, but I need to say something that makes me shit myself, even though I think I know the answer, and it’s a nice thing, I think, and shit, I’m all useless at this sort of thing, but I wanted to get it in before your birthday”

“Yes.”

“What?”

“I will. If what you are trying to say is what I hope it is, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes.”

“Oh fuck. I suppose I better give you this then”

The box was in his pocket, and the ring fitted nicely. Arris screamed so loudly down the phone I thought my ears would bleed.

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The next morning at work was an ordeal. Every single member of staff wanted to see the ring, and at lunchtime Alan disappeared, to come back only twenty minutes later. An hour after that, a cake was delivered with a message iced onto it: ‘Congratulations Sarah and Tony’. We borrowed a demo camera, and I bought a memory card so that I could have a record of his gift. We sliced the cake on the afternoon break, and life was just so good. Alan cornered me later, crumbs in his beard and a little dollop of cream at the edge of his mouth that a pink tongue-tip hoovered up

“My little wounded girl has found her place, then. You make me smile, Sarah”

He hugged me tight. “Remember, I wanted that invitation”

A serious note crept into his voice. “Tell me, Sar, did this man of yours have anything to do with the…unfortunate incident involving that piece of filth in Swansea?”

I could answer that one truthfully, if not honestly. “No, he didn’t”

Alan sighed. “But he knew someone that did, then. Hold onto that man, girl, if he risked all that for you, he s worth keeping”

I looked at him, really looked at him. Not that tall, and quite a bit overweight, he kept his hair and beard cropped short and his clothes neat, but I never saw him out with anyone except colleagues. There was no Mrs Alan... was there a Mr? Somehow, I thought not.

“Alan, why are you so solicitous about me? I know you are a nice chap, but for some reason you seem to care more for me than others. Please, Alan, if you care for me, if that is why, I am sorry I missed the signs, and I am sorry I rubbed your nose in it today”

He started to cry. Oh shit; there was nobody around, and I got him to his office and locked the door, holding the poor dear man until he got control.

“Talk to me, Al”

“Oh, Sar, you have no idea how wrong you are!”

He choked up a bit at that, and I slipped out to get a cuppa or each of us. He was a lot better when I got back, having told the rest of the staff we were in conference.

“So talk to me”

“You know that I know about you, Sar, don’t you? I know what the others don’t, and as it is none of their business I keep it that way. I know how hurt you were by that pig at your old place, and I just wanted to see you heal, and this man is doing that for you, and soon you will be off for your surgery, and I will stand for you at your wedding, f you invite me…”

“Of course I will!”

“It’s just that I am so, so jealous”

“There is someone out there for you, Alan, you just have to take courage, or let your friends into your life. Look what Arris has done for me”

He started to laugh, which turned into crying. “You are really missing the target, Sar. I’m not jealous of you and Tony, I am jealous of you being able to live as yourself”

Bloody hell. He couldn’t be, surely. Bald, beard, hairy arms….my mouth was open.

“Yes, Sar, you’ve got it at last. I never, ever had your courage, and certainly not the support you have been so lucky in. Look at me. There is no way I could go down your road now, and that s why I keep the beard, so that I don’t slip, I don’t fall into false hope.”

I pulled her to me, my heart absolutely broken for the poor girl. That was when I realised exactly how lucky I had been, with the terrible two at college, Elaine, Arris, my parents, Tony. All that shit I thought I had had, Joe, the wasted dead years, it was all nothing compared to what life had shat out all over this poor girl.

“What’s your name? Alan seems a bit wrong now”

“When I dream, when I dare to hope, I am Alice.”

“Hello, Alice, I am really pleased to meet you”

“Sar, nobody else needs to know.”

“Wrong, you need to tell someone, someone who can help. I will keep your confidence, obviously, but we need to get you some help. Would you be at all willing to talk to Tony and me at some time?”

“Tell a man?”

“Tell a man who’s just proposed to a woman with a cock in her knickers?

That broke the spell, and he laughed properly. She laughed properly. This was going to be difficult.

“Priorities, Alice. We need to get you cleaned up, wash your face and so on. I will broach the subject with Tone, and I will speak to my own doc about some therapy for you. You have a good heart, and I will not see it broken. As Arris has always said to me, you are not alone.”

I hugged her again. Bloody hell, there was a shock.

CHAPTER 17
Tony was on earlies that day, so when I got home-

That was another thought that hit, well, home. We needed to talk about my flat, and whether to keep it and rent it out, or to sell it. But, ’home’, for the three of us. Oooh.

Enid was also there when I opened the door, and she gave me a hug, and a smile, and a kiss.

“Sometimes my boy can be trusted to do the right thing, but it is an occasional ability, so I am delegating you to keep an eye on him for me”

That complicated matters. I really wanted to talk about Alice; would Enid be able to accept such a confidence? She accepted me, so after Jim had been tucked away in bed, I dove straight in.

“Tone, Enid, there are a couple of things that we need to discuss. One is sorting my flat out, and the other is a really delicate thing. A bit of a shock to me, in fact.

“Enid, you have astonished me, and pleased me beyond anything I can say, in the way you have accepted me as I am. In a few months, my little problem will be sorted out, but you have welcomed me into your family in a way I could only ever dream of before. To be honest, you dragged me in kicking and screaming!

“Now, I thought I had a hard life, what with Joe and the police and so on, but I realise now that for a girl like me it has been far, far easier than most ever get. I learned that fact today, and it’s something I’d like your help with”

I filled them in about Alice, and from their fly-catching stares they were as stunned as I had been.

“What do we do, then? I know bugger all about transitioning, as they call it, as I never really did so; apart from to my parents, that is, and Elaine was there for that.”

Enid was thoughtful. “What if he, she, doesn’t want to transition, as you call it? What if they haven’t got the guts, or the time, or the ability?”

“Then we stand by her whatever she decides. People kill themselves over this, and I can’t let that happen”

Tony spoke up. “Can I make a suggestion? From what you have told me in the past, Alice has been there for you since you first came to Dover, and seems to have asked for nothing back other than you being a good worker. Here’s my take on it. You know, we know now, who she really is. With care around Jim, why don’t we offer her a safe place to be herself? I can only imagine how it must be, but there must be a real difference between letting your guard down at home and doing so with friends. From what I can gather, it won’t be about clothes, it will be about letting go of male behaviour patterns.”

And that sums up why I love that man. No prescription, no protest, just a calm and ingenious suggestion. So, Jim acquired another Aunty, one with a beard.

That was how it worked, in the end. I called Alice that night, and we arranged for her to drop by whenever we had the opportunity, and that is how it started. When you have friends who live nearby, you don’t camp on their doorstep, you don’t arrange big events every so often so that you can see them, you just call round when you know they are in, have a cuppa, gossip; That is what Alice did. I t was amazing, and enlightening, to see how she changed when she entered her safe haven. I can imagine how those unfamiliar with people like me will see that, and I know they will be imagining some lisping, mincing queen.

Alice was no queen, no gay man trying his best to declare what he is. She was just a woman in her middle age, who liked to sit and gossip and talk about women’s things.

When she called round her posture changed as the door shut. She visibly sagged, and the male stance, shoulders thrown back, fell away from her. Her hands began moving, and little mannerisms, such as a tilt of the head, crept in.

What gratified me was Enid. It is a bloody obvious thing to say, but children come from their parents, and with Enid I could see where my man’s heart had been formed. Whenever she was down in Dover, she would call Alice, and the two of them would have an evening watching and discussing soap operas on the telly, and swapping terrible romantic novels. I could really see Alice at those times; just another English maiden aunt, who liked knitting and soppy love stories..

You see, that is another assumption so many people make, and yet again it is about clothing. Yes, she would have liked to wear a nice frock. Certainly, she hated her body. Very obviously, she struggled each day with wrapping herself up in a bland and artificial male persona.

But her times with us allowed her to act and be treated as her real self, among friends, and if I could offer her nothing more, we gave her that.

That year moved on, and we were really living as a family now. I couldn’t face the kerfuffle of renting the flat, so we sold it for rather more than I had paid for it and used the money to set up some investments, as well as to plan a serious holiday trip. I had always wanted to see Australia, and so we negotiated with the school to take Jim out for a few weeks n our Autumn, their Spring, the idea being to do some driving out of Perth, and then cross the country by plane to do what I had dreamed of for years: swim at the Great Barrier Reef.

Jim was already a King Penguin at the local leisure centre pool, so we had no fears for him, and Tony just seemed to smile at each of my random bursts of enthusiasm, and just as it was all coming together we had a phone call.

I was offered a place for surgery in January. This was when Tony went into overdrive, and suddenly the next six months or so were set in stone.

There would be a championship rugby match in September that would involve a couple of nights away, and in October we would fly to Perth. Four weeks later, it would be back to Gatwick, A month later it would be Christmas, with all that entailed, and then…. And then I would be off to hospital for the change I had feared and avoided for so many years.

Tony had dropped another surprise into the pot for that one, and it was to be in June. Plenty of time to arrange little things like a change of birth certificate before the wedding. Yes, I was to be a June bride.

September finally came, and once Alice and Enid arrived for the babysitting we joined the team coach for the run up to Coventry for the match. We had something that passed for a hotel room, but it was dry and warm, and nothing crawled out of the sheets, and there was a surprise n the morning: the breakfast was actually extremely good!

Now, you have to understand I am a Welsh girl, who was sort of a Welsh boy, so the game is meat and drink for me, but I was never any good at school. That does not mean I don’t love watching it; I mean, I have no musical ability whatsoever, but I still love rock. I don’t have to be Jimmy Page to love what he does.

I settled into a place on the touchline, suitable for cheering South and abusing match officials, and as the teams assembled on the pitch I spotted my man, number eight on his back, and I saw he was talking to that psychotic ginger bastard that had hurt him the first time I watched him play. This time, the nutter was on his side, wearing number seven, and I felt a small shiver of sympathy for the opposition. Just a small one, buried beneath anticipation of what he would do to them if he could take out my own personal ox.

That brought a giggle. He was no ox, it was all there, and it all worked rather nicely, thank you! I was joined by a small crowd of colleagues and family members, and the whistle blew for the kick off. It wasn’t long before the first knock on, and I got to enjoy the sight of my beloved’s thighs and arse straining away as he packed down and the two sets of forwards slammed into each other as they sought to show who was the better.

It was quite an even game, Tony getting in some thumping tackles. They were varying their game nicely, their (sod it, ‘our’) scrum half using both sides, and Tony picking up from the base every so often to make some solid ground. We had a better line out, though, but what caught my eye were the front rows. That was one serious contest there, and even though our loose head made Tony look small, he was having a hard job controlling their tight.

Half time came, and I took out the drinks and orange segments that are the traditional refreshment. In real rugby matches, not the stuff you see on telly, teams don’t retire to the dressing room, they huddle in two groups on the pitch before changing ends. As I handed out the oranges and collected the skins, the captain, that gigantic prop, was calmly talking the team through what he saw as the weaknesses in the opposition. I was struck by the way he could talk so calmly and intelligently after the sheer ferocity of what he was doing in the dark and private world up front.

The whistle went, and then the second half started. I noticed what was obviously a family group on the touchlines, cheering on someone called Steff, and spotted that it was the ginger nutter. Part way through the game, he started to catch my eye.

He was disturbingly quick for a forward, and though not that big his tackles were extremely destructive. Several times I saw opponents’ feet leave the floor as he hit them, and I realised that he was tackling rather high. Not illegally so, but he always seemed to be aiming to knock the other player back rather than just bring them down. And he was smiling all the time, too. I shuddered.

The game seemed locked in a draw, and then there was a clear change in tactics. We weren’t getting anywhere running at their line, and rolling mauls weren’t rolling. At that point, we fired off a Garryowen.

I felt the impact on their fullback myself. Each time we got the ball after that, up it went, and that ginger sod hit their poor number fifteen like a train. There was nothing he could do except take it, and then he couldn’t, and our winger shot past him and scored. I found myself mentally writing a prescription for the poor bugger.

It effectively won the game, and I stood with a towel for my man as the two teams clapped each other off the pitch. Tony was having words with the captain when I got to him. Oh gods he was gorgeous…if I wasn’t engaged, and wasn’t in love so deeply…..

So what if I like watching the players as well as the game? A girl needs a hobby!

I looked around for the psycho nutter, but he had already left with his personal groupies, so I concentrated on getting my man back to the hotel after he showered, and doing some first aid on the various cuts and bruises he had collected. I also gave him a back rub, and the sight of my big man naked on the bed….life was so good I ended up crying, and he saw, and he made me feel better too. Poor, poor Alice.

Into my frock and heels, I fussed round Tony as he squeezed into his suit, and off to the dinner. This was another moment of joy for me, as I knew I was a head turner, as I had turned this man’s head so completely my way. When you are like me, there is always a need for reassurance. The world is an awkward fit because you are not catered for. This was better, though, as I was sailing along on a wave of certainty. My fiancé, my love, my stepchild waiting at home, the only jarring fact the wasted years I had thrown away in self-pity.

Party time!

Tony took his place at the team table, and I noticed an empty seat. No nutter. I found my place, with a few other supporters, and started on a bottle of wine. There were speeches, and they droned on, and I wished we could hurry up and eat so I could get my hands back on my lover, and then I realised that the room had gone silent except for what sounded like the click of heels.

A gorgeously gowned woman was walking into the hall, on the arm of an athletic looking man. As she passed the team tables, I distinctly heard one of the opposition say that immortal phrase “Fuck me!”

She smiled at him, and said “I rather think I did…”

Red hair. Smile.

How many girls like me are there?

CHAPTER 18
The rest of the evening was fun, especially when the nutter, who turned out to be called Stephanie, was carried out onto the dance floor by the prop I had been lusting after.

In the end she left early, and Tony and I concentrated on getting seriously down and dirty on the dance floor. He was a little stiff then and my filthy mind hoped he would be later as well….oh, how I was getting used to this. Without Jim around we could be far more, ahem, adult than we were at home. That was a night to treasure.

Tony managed to get the gossip on the redhead, who turned out to come from just down the road from me. I made a note to see if Elaine knew anything about the family. If my life was anything to go by, there would be some problems there, and if I looked at poor Alice…

Apparently, she had come out beforehand to her workmates, the close ones, and that night was her big unveiling. I liked her style, a real two fingers to the world, ‘This is me, take it or sod off’ and, yet again, I realised what I had thrown away. This world holds arseholes, turds like Joe, but looking at my friends, and the way that girl’s team took her to their hearts, the good outweighed the bad by a huge factor.

You go, girl!

Yes, it was a good night, and a lovely morning before breakfast, and in between I lay wrapped round by my care bear, at peace and with hope.

We were a little hung over the next morning, though. Oh, sod it, we were both VERY hung over, once again as a byproduct of being without Jim. The coach ride back left us both dozing, but we were back far more safely than we would have been on the bikes after such a night. Once we were home, and Enid had done her ma-in-lawly duty with the teapot, I gave Alice a ring.

“You won’t believe this…”

I just felt that she might appreciate the idea of the silk purse that had been produced from the sow’s ear of a rugby forward with a broken nose. Facing facts, I realised, was the way to break her fears. She was a woman in late middle age. As much as she might dream of being some femme fatale head-turner, she was a matron in outlook and habits. She and Enid were fast friends, and so similar in behaviour I could forget the beard. The real trouble was myself.

Because I started young, I had turned out rather well. No false modesty, I had the shape of a fit, lean woman, natural hips and bust, and as Tony kept telling me, and the gaze of male strangers confirmed, I looked good. In other words, a direct slap in the face for Alice. If, if, we could find a way of letting her settle into middle age as she was, let her write off her youth as I now did mine but give her some golden years, I would be happy. I suggested that to Enid, and asked her advice.

“Well, dear, she’s not that far off my size, really, and don’t look at me like that. But that beard would have to go. I know she grew it as protection, but if she wants to do this then she needs to put some of her shields down”

Yet again, I could see where my man had got his soul from.

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The time went all too quickly after that, and before we knew it we were packing for Australia. The flight was from right next to our rather special rally site, and I got little quivers at the memory. You see, once Tony had found the , ahem, right way to keep me happy, he had practised it rather often, and being there got me a little unnecessary. I had to concentrate on Jim to bring me back down. If the opportunity had presented itself, I would have dragged Tony somewhere and ravished him. Later, girl, later.

We had checked in on line with Emirates airline, and as it was a Boeing 777 we had a row of three seats with a window. That, of course, went to Jim, as the new flier., and he was really, really sweet to me.

“Daddy has to sit on the outside cause he’s got long legs ,and if he sits n the middle you won’t be able to see anything past him cause he’s too big”

That had always been an awkwardness when we were in the tent, as Jim slept by his dad, and so did I, and this time both my men would be enfolding me. . We did the rounds of the airside shops, picking up some books for Jim and some smellies for me. There were none of the problems I had feared at security, but I was still carrying a letter confirming my status. Until January came, and it went, I was still on the outside.

Onto the plane at last, and into our seats for the first leg, over Europe to Dubai. Take off was exciting for Jim, as the acceleration pushed him back in his seat, and he squealed happily. Both men squeezed my hands to make me feel safe, and I avoided any suggestion that as a knee-down track star I might not actually be nervous, but it made them feel important.

We ended up flying right over Dover, and I pointed out and down till Jim could see our street.

“Do you want to wave to Nana, Jim?”

“Don’t be silly, mummy, she can’t see us from down there”

Just like that. The squeeze from Tony let me know that he had heard, and his shoulder got a little damp.

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I am nuts about travel, and nature, and geography, and maps, and over Jim’s head I saw loads of places I wanted to visit, but from rather further away than I had hoped. Lake Balaton was one, in Hungary, and as it turned dark we were heading out over another, the Danube delta, to the Black Sea. Jim was already asleep, despite the mass of entertainment in the seat back, and that let me have my own little snuggle with his dad.

Dubai was barking. Absolutely weird. There were shops and shops, selling everything from alcohol to gold, and couldn’t resist the lure of a new and decent digital camera for about  £400. I added some memory cards, and topped up my chocolate supply, and we had a drink and a cake while people watching. Arab men were everywhere, of course, many in traditional dress, followed by the black daleks of their wives. Mingling with them were sun, sea and sex westerners, in rather less clothing, and the men’s eyes followed the women about, officially with disapproval, but most definitely with covert delight in some cases.

Onto another plane, and off in the dark over a huge expanse of lights. The cabin display switched between a world map, a local map, both showing our position, groundspeed, height ,and so on, and a diagram of the direction and distance of Mecca. The cabin lights were dimmed, and the window blinds pulled down, I wrapped a blanket around my little man and cuddled my huge one, and did my best to sleep.

There were thunderstorms over Sri Lanka, and when I popped the blind to see the sunlight was so powerful I pulled it straight back down. Eventually the cabin crew stirred, and a not bad breakfast was served. I woke Jim, bracing myself for the “are we nearly there yet?” which duly came.

“Morning, darling. Breakfast?”

“Yes please, mummy.” He looked a little odd, then, and said “I know I had another mummy, but you are marrying my daddy, so I thought I should call you the right name. Is that an OK thing?”

“It’s a very OK thing, Jim.” Oh god.

Blinds up, Jim lost himself in videos while the interminable expanse of the Indian Ocean passed beneath us until…yes, a long dark line just visible. Finally, finally we could see our destination. Some time later we started our descent.

We passed over a coastline that seemed to be all reefs, then a lot of new housing, until finally setting down at a place that seemed to be miles from anywhere except major roads. We handed our Customs forms in, had our luggage checked, and pushed our expensive and badly-designed trolley through the sliding doors.

Tony had a friend who had moved to Perth on marrying a local girl, and we would stay with him for a few days at the start of our trip, before flying on to Cairns. Terry was waiting for us, as he had warned Tony that public transport from the airport was “a bit shit, mate” and as he and Kylie (yes, I know) had four kids, he had a rather large people-carrier to collect us and our luggage.

“So you’re the tart that’s stolen my mate then? I didn’t realise he had such good taste! And this is Jim! Hello, mate, welcome to kangaroo country!”

“Are we gong to see kangaroos, daddy?”

Terry grimaced slightly. “Oh yes. Probably as roadkill to start with”

As we went out into the car park a flock of screaming parrots went overhead, rainbow lorikeets. This was most definitely foreign, even the trees looking different. It was about six n the evening when we arrived, so all of the family were waiting to greet us up at Joondalup in the North of the city, and the five kids were soon bouncing happily around the yard. It was warm, and there were flies. Lots of them. Terry dropped a few simple rules.

“No walking through long grass, no stepping over fallen tress, no poking into holes. There have been a few bitten dogs this year already n the park, so keep an eye on the little one. Mostly dugites, but there were some tigers too.”

“Sorry, Terry, but ‘eh’? “

“Oh, sorry, Sar, snakes.”

Oh. That was to become one of our two habits in Australia, checking the ground ahead when leaving the footpath. The other was the Aussie Wave, a flick of the hand over the face to discourage flies.

We were there, and it was so alien and new, and I was ‘mummy’.

CHAPTER 19
A couple of days later we left the gorgeous city in a hired estate car for our trip out into the country.

I had read a lot about the South West, and we planned a drive around the coast to Esperance, then up into the desert to Kalgoorlie and back out to Perth following the line of the water pipe from Mundaring. The weather was gorgeous, and when we finally left the suburbs behind for the long run down to Dunsborough, it was clear how different things were. The trees were like ghosts, all pale bark and odd leaves, and gum nuts were everywhere. Terry had been right, there were a lot of roos about, most of the ones we saw being roadkill. They lay in the ditch, bloated or exploded, eventually reduced to leather over bones. The tails seemed to last longest.

Dunsborough has a motel, and so although Terry had lent us his camping kit for the trip, we stayed there, and after a swim in the waters of Geographe Bay, with its superb beach, I nagged Tony into driving us up to see The Sugarloaf. This was partly selfish, as there is a colony of red-tailed tropicbirds there, but it turned out to be an absolutely lovely spot. A pod of dolphins swam through the channel beneath us, which sent Jim into delights, and then he pointed to the North.

“Daddy, what are all those boats for?”

I put my eyes to my binoculars and---yes, there it was, a spout. Whale watchers. I gathered Jim into my arms, gave him the binoculars, and enjoyed the whales with him. I never saw one, after that first blow, but he did, and Tony did, and that was special enough for me.

Dinner that night was a ‘counter meal’ in the pub round the corner, and my little man returned to the motel asleep in dad’s arms, clutching his rabbit.

We had come this way to spend some time at the wineries around Margaret River, and so we passed a day travelling slowly along Caves Road, stopping at cellars and wineries for me to sample what was on offer. I delegated the driving to my manservant, but he would be rewarded later. The bird life was astonishing, and live roos started to become more evident. That second night, we camped not much further on, at Alexandra Bridge in a scruffy little site by the river. Signs were appearing now telling us that the next supplies were 70 or 80km away, and we realised that we were leaving the populous bit and heading into wild country.

Jim was excited that night as we had a proper cook-out and ate outdoors watching the ducks and gallinules on the river, cockatoos screaming in the trees.. We let him stay up until it was dark, and used the torch to pick out some night-time roos on the site. Hint to Jim: ssshhhhhhhh!
I almost fell out of love with him that night, because he insisted on sleeping between me and Tony.

Tony had arranged a treat for us for the next night, and we cruised along through real bush for a while, flood relief gullies angling off from the road, until we turned off and suddenly hit hills. The hills then led to bigger hills, and then stands of immense trees, karri, with white trunks, smooth to a great height. Buried among the forest was a reservoir, with a waterfall, and a lakeside resort. Terry had booked us two nights there, and it was delightful. A good restaurant was next to our suite, which had a balcony overlooking the lake. There were “28” parrots and honeyeaters on our balcony, ospreys fishing the lake, and roos and emus all around. We spent the next day hiking round the lake in the parrot-rich forest to see the falls, Jim finishing the circuit on his dad’s shoulders and singing.

I know this is reading like a travelogue, but that was how I felt. There was just so much to see, it was coming from all directions One of the mornings at Beedelup we had a splendid fairy wren on the balcony, a bird so blue Jim asked if it was plastic.. Sensory overload….what did bowl me over was the simple friendliness of Western Australian people.

The car loaded, we set off for our next stop, which was a short drive away at Shannon National Park. I had read of the campsite, an almost fully natural place laid out on the street plan of an old logging town, and we wanted to give Jim as much time in the wild as we could. The ranger was a real country guy, with a cockatiel perched on his shoulder, and he let us use one of the little huts, each with an iron stove inside and a firepit for cooking outside. Not far away from us was a cluster of what the Americans call “RVs”, overblown coach-sized things . There was a group of children associated, but unlike Jim, who was enthralled by the parrots and kookaburras, and insisted on shushing his dad when he spoke too loud, the other kids were raucous.

We were sat at the firepit, having some pasta and stew, with an eye on the currawong perched nearby, when they came out. First to show was a young roo, followed by his mother, a joey’s head sticking out of the pouch. For ten minutes, they moved around only twenty yards from us, as Tony filmed on my new camera and Jim quivered with excitement, his hand over his mouth to catch any squeals. Then the neighbouring kids started an argument, and all three were off, bounding through the trees. Jim looked at me, eyes wide, and hugged me.

“That was like magic, mummy. This is the best holiday ever.”

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Oddly, it was cold enough in the night to need the stove. In the morning, the kids were being packed away, and one of them was wailing that they hadn’t seen any of the kangaroos. I wondered why.

Another easy drive down the road towards the coast again, and we pulled off at a lookout point for a cuppa and our first view of the Southern Ocean. There was a steep downhill after that, to an even steeper and longer uphill. As we ground up, we passed a solo cycle tourist with a fully-loaded bike, plodding steadily uphill as if he had all day. I suppose he did, really, but I pitied him nonetheless. We planned to have a night in Walpole, as we had read about a nature cruise across the inlet, and the next day drive to Albany. As we came down the other side of the hill, we spotted the magic sign “Motel”, and they had a room. To be honest, there wasn’t much of the town, but there was a daily trip out with a guide, and they did meals, and unlike us Jim couldn’t sit in a car all day.

I almost revised my decision when I saw what they had in the bar. In two pieces, one over the bar and a smaller part over the door to the gents’, was a mummified whale’s penis, together with copious references to “Walpole, home of the whale’s willy”

How on Earth do you explain that to an eight year old?

The meal was OK, the usual choice between fish and chips or chicken parmiggiana (the spelling varied with the bar, we found), the motel itself seemed to be gently sliding downhill, but it was clean and comfortable and the bar staff and regulars were lovely, making a real fuss of Jim, as they did over the cyclist who followed us in and proceeded to just about inhale a pint. No bloody wonder, on those hills.

We got seats on the tour boat the next day and it was brilliant. The guide was a short, shaven-headed and barefoot ecologist called Gary, and as we meandered round the sandbanks he told us stories of snakes and poison peas, feral cats the size of dogs and bushfires. He went into lavish detail about the biochemical effects of the various herbal poisons, and must have caught me nodding as he did so. Suddenly, he was talking directly to me.

“Is there a doctor on board?”

“No, a pharmacist!”

“Did I get it right then, mate?”

“Absolutely, Gary!”

“Ok, but I’ve got this rather embarrassing rash I’d like to show you later in private and”

The roar of laughter drowned him out, and he just grinned and winked.

We put ashore at a little jetty and walked a sandy path over the neck of a headland, stopping once for a mass stamping session to persuade a basking dugite to move on, and then there we were, on a perfect beach by a crystal clear ocean..

Jim was right. This was the best holiday ever. We linked hands and walked into the edge of the waves, laughing with happiness.

http://spoolphotography.files.wordpress.com/2009/04/sugarloa...
http://www.abc.net.au/science/scribblygum/yourphotos/comp06/...

CHAPTER 20
We continued along the coast, with the obligatory walk through the Valley of the Giants, until Albany, the oldest European settlement in WA.

I didn’t like it. Too small a town trying to pretend it was a big city, and after a night in a hotel we filled up the car with water and food and set off into much harsher terrain.

If it all went well, we could easily do Esperance in a day, but we had to bear in mind heat, water, the possibility of hitting a roo, and Jim. It was indeed harsh country, the sheep farms dry and full of dully grazing animals, the bush after a while low, spiny and unwelcoming. We crossed several river courses, their beds almost dry apart from stagnant-looking pools, and it was all so different from the damp South West. Jeeramungup brought a break, and the chance to drink and fill the tank, and I took the wheel for the next stint. I thought back to the cyclist, was he intending to head out over this? Balls like brass if he was.

We took lunch at Ravensthorpe, where the bush seemed to turn suddenly to stands of gum trees, and then it wasn’t that far to Esperance. Jim was getting fractious by now, but there had been nowhere in that expanse of dead land that we would have wanted to stop.

Suddenly, industrial units, busier roads, and the sea. And what a sea. Blue water filled with hundreds of islands, a conical mountain off in the distance, clean sand. We rented a caravan in a campsite right on the beach, and Jim was off and into the water with his goggles and Dad. That was a poignant moment. I dug out my costume, bought for the trip, and forced my growth back between my legs. Did it look OK? Could I pass?

Fuck it. It was a quiet beach, and we were on a touring holiday, so would be moving on. If anyone saw, then so what? To be honest, in the costume Tony had picked for me, most men wouldn’t be able to see past my tits. I wrapped a sarong round me for effect and crossed the road to join my boys.

Four days later, after a visit to Cape le Grande park, and a day on Woody Island, Jim was up to his eyeballs in dolphins and sea lions, and we set off on the penultimate leg of out trip, the run up to Norseman and Kalgoorlie. We set off n the morning with the plan of a night in the bush wild camping to excite Jim, and after we had filled all our water holders we pulled out of the camp site. As we headed North, we spotted our cyclist just hitting the edge of town. Balls of brass, indeed! He looked haggard, and I hoped he was OK. How much further was he going–Sydney?

It was only 120 miles or so to Norseman, but we planned to camp wild rather than stay in the town, then push on to Kalgoorlie for the historical sights. We soon left the settled land, and entered an area of dried salt pans, red dirt and endless expanses of blackbutt gum trees. I spotted a wedge tailed eagle for Jim, and we passed several road trains, which excited him at first, but the monotony seemed to be getting him down. We had a break at Salmon Gums, and then I took over driving duties while Tony dozed. The road undulated as we went, and it was so straight for such long periods that it was hypnotic. Roadkill was everywhere, and the smell got into the car at times. We camped near Bromus Dam, supposedly a swimming spot, but no thank you,
There is a pull off there, with some litter bins, but that was all. A pair of Grey Nomads had parked their caravan there, and insisted we share a cuppa with them, finding a cold coke for Jim. We walked off into the bush, and finding a pitch clear of any widowmaker branches we set up camp.

This was a place rich in nature, and I found myself swamped trying to identify all the birds. The Nomads said there would be possums and roos around at night, and we had already seen brumbies, which entranced Jim. Bring him to the other side of the world and he gate bored with kangaroos and excited by horses. Kids, who’d have ‘em?

Me, if I could. Even with the joys of being ‘mummy’, I could still never be mother. Tony was watching this, and caught my mood. I got a hug ,and a soft kiss, and he went off to play catch with Jim.

We shared a meal with our Nomad friends, as they insisted, and it was a lovely evening. Harry and Jenny clearly missed their own grandchildren, and Jim ended up a little spoiled, but it was a holiday after all. We wandered out in the gloaming to our tent and settled Jim down with his rabbit. As it went fully dark, I looked up, and realised with a shock that I had never, ever seen so many stars. Leaning back into Tony’s arms I finally managed to locate a constellation I recognised, as well as the Southern Cross. He kissed the back of my neck and whispered in my ear.

“I’ve got something to show you…”

He picked up the blanket we had been sitting on and led me in the starlight through the trees. As a horse nickered a little way off he said “This’ll do”

“What have you got to show me?”

He began to unbutton my blouse. “That I love you more than anything except Jim”

We made love on the blanket, under the stars.

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Norseman was our breakfast stop, a scruffy little town with a herd of tin camels at one roundabout. Jim insisted we take his picture “riding” one, which actually meant Tony standing behind and balancing him. Then he saw the statue of the town’s founder, Hardy Norseman, so he had a real ride on him.

Hardy Norseman was a horse, by the way.

The land was getting seriously red as we set off for Kalgoorlie, and willy-willies were turning in the hot air. We stopped at Widgiemootha for some cold drinks, and then began the run into Kalgoorlie. The air started to taste odd, not just from dust, and found out later that it was the acid used in the gold-mining process. Before we went into town, Tony stopped by the big hole, a huge opencast gold mine with a viewing point. Toy-sized tipper trucks moved around in its depths, and a digger scoop was on display in the car park.

Tony took Jim over to it. “Can you read the sign, son? How much does it scoop up at a time?”

“F-fifty tons of orry, daddy”

“Ore, son. That means rock with bits of gold in. Now, how many scoops does it take to fill a truck? Shall we count?”

They went to the viewing platform. “Ready to count? OK, one…two…three…four…five…five scoops! Now, son, can you tell me what five fifties are?”

Jim puzzled away….”Two hundred and fifty, daddy!”

I was impressed. I was also touched. After Tony’s comment under the stars, his gift to me, I saw his love for his son and realised that he was giving that to me as well, sharing the most precious thing he had. “All my worldly goods”

If I had died then, it would have been happy. I didn’t, and it got happier.

Kalgoorlie was seriously strange, and I wasn’t sure if it was quite right for my little boy (sigh), though I had to slap Tony a couple of times when he got too interested in its history (of brothels) and its skimpies, which were barmaids wearing underwear and nothing else. I had read about this custom, but soon realised that it had been commercialised and instead of local girls doing it in their bar, there were a number of girls working several bars on different nights under a variety of working names. It didn’t sit well with me, and I felt better when we left the next morning for our long drive back to Perth. I wondered where our cyclist was.

We spent a day of hard driving across bush, until we hit Southern Cross and it turned into dried out farmland. We gave Jim another night in the bush, and made sure that this time he was up late enough to see the stars. The next day it was just a grind, as the land grew less arid, and older buildings began to appear, until we hit the edges of the Perth traffic and my mobile came to life.

Terry and Kylie were waiting with cold beers and a welcome home barbeque, and as Tony showered after the drive, Terry followed me down to the car hire place as I got rid of our wheels.

We would be off East in a couple of days, and that would be so different.

http://www.christianfletcher.com.au/_tentacle/files/images/u...(5).jpg Cape le Grande NP

http://www.kepakurl.com.au/trade/images/EsperanceWesternAust... The beach in front of the campsite

http://images.travelpod.com/users/jimandelle/gone_north_2006...

http://commondatastorage.googleapis.com/static.panoramio.com... Norseman tin camels

CHAPTER 21
The departure from Perth was quite emotional, Terry and Kylie fussing over Jim as we waited in the security queue. Finally, we had to let them go, and a short while later were in the air in a DC9 heading for Cairns via Uluru. Jim was asleep in his window seat shortly after take-off; the excitement of being in the air fading quickly as we droned over a continuous waste of red dirt and bush.

The runway at Ayers Rock airport is amazing, a single strip of tarmac set in the red, unfortunately with a large number ‘13’ at the ends. We got our view of the rock, coming and going, either side of a short walk in silly temperatures to the terminal building. Would it be as hot on the coast? A barman answered that as we had a coffee and sandwich.

“Just as hot, mate, but a lot more humid. Watch the young’un, keep him hydrated and he’ll be right”

One of the advantages of being a biker chick with a biker ..what word can I use for Tony? Partner? Other half? Boyfriend? (NO!). Lover?

The best word that came up was ’mine’.

Anyway, as we wore helmets, I knew his head size, and so when my (see?) two men returned from a toilet visit, they had a souvenir each. I mean, you can’t leave Oz without a hat, can you? They weren’t Akubras or other top quality stuff, but they were well made, and crush proof, and Jim’s face lit up when he saw it. Yes, of course I bought one for myself. I wouldn’t have matched, otherwise!

In all the travel we had been doing, even though I was on a passport that said “Sarah” together with that letter ‘M’, nobody had questioned me at all. I had the letter ready, but it seemed that we made such an obvious family group that it simply went below the radar. As we continued on towards Cairns, I decided to sound Jim out.

“Darling, did your daddy ask you to call me mummy?”

“No, it was the boys at school, they said you were my mum. I know I had another mum, but you do all the things she did, and daddy says you are going to marry him.

He suddenly looked a lot older than he was.

“I really miss my first mummy. I wish she hadn’t gone away, but she did. You’re not my real mummy, I mean sorry, you are my real mummy, but my first mummy was my mum, and you are such a nice mummy I don’t miss her so much. I love you and want you to marry my dad soon”

I dug the sense out of that, and it was all I could do not to cry. He knew I hadn’t given birth to him, and he missed his mother, but he loved me and wanted me there in her shoes. From an eight year old, it was stunningly mature. I wished I could have had the chance to have met his mother. She had produced a joy and a treasure. My job, now, was to keep him from harm.

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There was a downpour in progress as we came into Cairns, and we grabbed a taxi for the run out to our room, in a motel built round a courtyard with a small pool in the centre, just off the Bruce Highway near the Portsmith Road junction. There was a regular bus service, and it seemed less frantic than the city centre.

You don’t want to read a long travelogue of tourist sights, so I shall play a verbal slide show.

Jim, in a midget wetsuit and flotation ‘noodle’, snorkelling as if he was born to it, out on the Reef and swimming with turtles.

The three of us sunning ourselves at the artificial town beach, my worries about the costume seemingly unfounded.

Eating in an open-fronted cafe, while tiny, tiny pigeons hopped around our feet like sparrows.

The sheer din of roosting lorikeets in the evening at the bus station.

Jim’s confusion over the town centre warning signs: “Crocodiles inhabit this area. Attacks may cause injury or death” (no shit, Sherlock)

The cable car ride up over the rainforest, butterflies like birds, followed by the old train down again.

Swimming n a flooded volcanic crater over towards the Atherton.

Seeing my man in budgie smugglers and knowing every inch of his body by touch and taste.

Being treated as any other family, though I had to bite my tongue when some old lady suggested Jim had my eyes….

But, all things come to an end. It was a steady anti-climax as we first flew down to Brisbane for the transfer to our flight home via Singapore and Dubai. Jim was blasé about long haul flights now, and was into the games almost as soon as we were airborne. I just settled against my man and tried to get as much sleep as I could.

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I felt like shit as we landed in England, on a grey and wet day. We queued to disembark, queued for passports, and I queued for the ladies’. I had a perverse giggle at the thought that I could theoretically have walked into the gents’ and peed at a urinal, but I screwed that idea down as tightly as I was holding my bladder.

We went down to the baggage reclaim, and I spotted a familiar face. I must have stared too obviously, because she came up to me.

“Do I know you? You seem to find me interesting to look at for some reason”

I switched to our own language. “Na, ond dwi’n dy cofio di” (no, but I remember you, my friend)

She laughed. “Cymres arall!” (Another Welshwoman!)

“Cymro, fel ti….roeddwn ni” (A Welshman, like you, my friend…we were)

“Cachu!” (shit!)

Tony was at my shoulder by then. “Hi Stephanie. That’s who you are now, right?”

“Steph. How the hell does this woman know about me?”

I smiled at her. “We saw your coming out in style after the inter regional final. Think about what I just said to you. Think, and II meant no offence”

Tony was shaking his head, Jim hanging onto his hand and looking puzzled.

“Steph, this is my fiancée Sarah. Sarah, this was my hardest ever opponent on the pitch.”

I could see the gears turning in her head. Close up, I could easily see the man who had been there, but then I knew it was there to look for. Startling eyes went with the auburn hair, no visible make up, and a nose that showed the signs of more than one break, but she was still female. As I peered at her, with hindsight rather rudely, she put two and two together with an almost audible clunk.

“You said ‘we were’ ; gwybod y dyn?” ( you said ‘we were’… the man know?)

I laughed out loud at that, which relaxed Jim, and pulled Tony to me. “Yes, Tony knows everything about me. I didn’t mean to upset you, just to wish you luck, coupled with rather a lot of understanding.. Tell me, who was that skinny bloke you were cuddled up to?”

I have never seen anybody blush that much.

“That was my friend Geoff”

I couldn’t help it, and pushed a little harder. “Friend…..?”

She blushed even harder. I quickly hugged her. I realised that despite the mad courage on the rugby pitch, this was a girl with far less experience of life than me, and she was terrified. Despite that, she was pushing herself into her new life, which showed true courage. Those who don’t know fear can’t be brave.

“You had the courage to come out to a roomful of rugby players, and I saw him there for you. I think you are even more like me than I realised. I let this one go for a while, but he’s going nowhere without me from now on.”

“Have you had, you know, small ears?”

“After Christmas”

She hugged me back. “Your bags are up on belt 8. Tony…you look after this girl.”

Tony smiled. “Steph, trust me, you have no need to ask. I love this woman”

By the time we had our luggage, she was deep in the bag of another passenger, but I got a wink from her, as Tony was hailed by various other players.

I thought of poor Alice…..two of us seemed to have struck gold, and there she was, alone and hurting. Meeting Steph simply confirmed me in my need to give Alice the best we, as her friends, could manage.

CHAPTER 22
Enid was waiting for us, as she had house sat for our holiday, and after we had squeezed our luggage into the car we set off for Dover, Jim actually getting excited as he got nearer home.

He knew his landmarks well (“There’s the White Horse!” “There’s the sound mirror!” “The castle yay!”) and when we finally rose over the top of Shakespeare Cliff with its view of the harbour he was almost dancing with joy.

“So, Jim” I said, “you like Dover so much you don’t want to go on holidays any more?”

Despite his deep remarks to me earlier, this particular comment floored him. Unable to explain why coming home is so good, even if it means the end of a holiday, he resorted to standard child logic.

“Daddy, mummy’s being silly again!”

Silly mummy, but happy mummy.

Enid put the car away as we hauled the bags up to the front door, and then to my great surprise she waved at Tony to put his key away, and rang the doorbell. The door was opened by a rather dumpy grey-haired woman in a burgundy print dress. It took an instant for my brain to put sense to the picture.

“Alice?”
She smiled. “Enid’s idea, she said the beard was naff when on top of a dress, and then she found this wig…. “

The smile faded. “I look stupid, don’t I?”

Jim just dodged past her, running for his room. “Hiya, Aunty Alice, pretty dress!”

Tony frowned down at her. “What exactly do you think you are doing? Why isn’t the kettle on, woman?”

At that, he grabbed her for a hug, then turned her round and pushed her towards the kitchen. “You know how we take it!”

He looked at me, then kissed my cheek. “I think she might like a hand in the kitchen, love”

I found her filling the kettle, and crying. “I wanted to surprise you. Enid has been helping me, and we thought if I answered the door, but I knew you’d hate it, and I look stupid, don’t I?”

I looked at her. Enid, obviously, had her in a simple, practical polycotton house dress, with a buttoned collar, some low heels over tan tights, and something was filling her chest out. With her collar-length bobbed hair, she looked like a favourite grandmother.

“No, you don’t. Do you feel stupid dressed like that?”

“No….”

“How do you feel?”

She looked up at me from under the fringe of her ---no, call it her hair. “I feel, I don’t know, but…calmer? As if I’ve stepped into a room I was only looking into before? More connected? Is that how it was for you?”

I could just about remember some of those feelings, but I had been Sarah, myself, almost all of my life, and it was hard to put myself into the shoes of someone who had been so torn for so long. Even Steph’s experience of transition would be different to mine. How could I help her?

“What have you and Enid done while we have been away? No, that sounds wrong, let’s get the tea sorted and we can have a chat.”

In the living room, she sat next to Enid, who seemed very fond of her, patting her hand every now and again. They really looked like a matched pair of mature ladies, the sort who finish each other’s sentences and say “ooh, I know” a lot. I suppose I realised then that Enid had seen her far more clearly than I had. She had also done far more. Yet again, I could see where and how Tony had been shaped.

Enid started. “The more time I spend with Alice, the more I can tell how right she is, and how wrong as Alan, so I decided to try and move her along a little. The beard just had to go…..”

Alice laughed. “Do you know where I got the idea from? Renee Richards, the tennis player. Her doctor suggested she grew a beard to stop her crossdressing!”

I remembered a film, I think with Vanessa Redgrave. Enid continued.

“You can see I have done a bit of shopping for her, and she has had rather a relaxed time while you have been away. We have done more than that, you know”

“Yes, we have, you old nag, you. She only dragged me down to see my doctor!”

“Well, you weren’t going to do it, were you?”

It really was like watching some sitcom argument. I wanted to giggle, and I am sure I heard some quiet snorts from Tony. Jim, meanwhile, was playing with his cars, oblivious.

“So she drags me into my GPs surgery”

“Well you wouldn’t go on your own, and I made the appointment”

“And she says it’s because I have depressive issues”

“Well you do, dear”

“That’s not surprising, is it? So she insists on coming into the room with me, and I am trying to get my problems across to the doctor”

“Trying to wriggle out of it, you mean”

“And he is asking what sort of depressive feelings I am having”

“And she is obfuscating in a ridiculous way”

“And then Enid says..”

They both laughed and said in unison “Oh, just get on with it, Alice!”

Alice turned a little more serious. “All the doctor said to that was ‘I wondered when you would finally talk to me’”

Enid squeezed her friend’s hand. “It seems he had had a suspicion of where her worries may come from, had it for years, and all he said was ‘ I will find someone for you to talk to properly’, and then he offered her some anti-depressants”

Enid was smiling, and crying, and she looked at Alice., who looked back at her.

“I told him I’d brought my own prozac, and she was sitting next to me”

Enid started to laugh, then, really laugh, and Alice joined in. Something really funny had them chortling for ages, and then we had one of those “You tell them” “No, you do” arguments. Alice finally drew breath, and continued.

“I have a therapy person, and very nice she is, and she tells me that she is probably going to give me an official diagnosis of being transgender, gender dysphoric, thingy”

“No, dear, she sad that she HAS diagnosed you as that, but she hasn’t decided how far you are along the scale thing”

That was wonderful. I felt almost useless; all I had been able to do with her was listen, and offer her a safe house. Enid, on the other hand, had stepped in, taken charge and set her on the road to a potential solution.

“Alice, I am impressed, and so proud of you. Enid, what can I say? You remind me of my sister, she did much the same to me---I mean, for me. With Elaine it is sometimes difficult to tell which it is. But I think there is something you are not telling us.”

Enid smirked. Alice whistled, trying to look innocent, pointing surreptitiously to Jim. I called to him. “Jim, want to go and put the heater on for a bath?”

As soon as he was out of the room, Enid collapsed into giggles again. Alice was only slightly more controlled.

“He asked….he asked if I wanted to put Enid down on my records as my partner! He thought we were dykes!”

And they were off again, laughing and crying together.

CHAPTER 23
There was no way Alice could suddenly appear at work. I didn’t trust many of the staff with my own secret, certainly not people like slimy Andy. That meant I had to look at ways of easing her into things.

One night shortly after our return, as I lay naked, sweaty and trembling with Tony, I asked him outright.

“What do you think, cariad? We’ve got the room, and if she stays here on her off days we’ll have someone for Jim”

“It’s a sweet idea, love, but we need to speak to her, see what she wants. She may not want to go all the way you are”

“Oh, trust me, Tone, I know what she wants, it’s just how strong she feels. I mean, if she goes for surgery they will insist she loses a lot of weight first”

“Sar, love, slow down a little. You may think you know what she wants, but she’s like you, she isn’t ‘you’. Let’s just offer her some choice rather than a road map, OK?”

He was right. I was caught up in the excitement of the moment, trying to push things along the way I assumed she wanted. Enid had pushed her, from all accounts dragged her kicking and screaming, but only as far as someone who she needed to speak to. Slow down, Sar. At least there was one thing made a lot easier: buying her presents for Christmas. That’ll be clothes, then. I went to sleep cuddled up to my bear, determined to see how far I could help her, and reminding myself over and over that her name at work had to be Alan.

Back to work, and buzzing up the A2 fighting the late Autumn side winds. There were a couple of times, as I passed lorries, where I had to hang back and then accelerate hard to punch through their bow wave, the acceleration tightening the bike up, but I still found the blast making me lean the bike hard to the left to keep it in lane. I was buzzing myself when I got to the ladies’ and changed from my leathers. Suzy already had the kettle on, good girl. Anne joined us.

“Hi, Sar, welcome back! How was Oz?”

I just pulled out a handful of memory cards. “All on here, including some video. I’m going to put them on disc here, then we can have a slide show at break time. It was absolutely bloody magic!”

Anne looked at me knowingly. “And what was it like being mum?”

“Oh, Anne, is it that obvious?”

Suzy laughed. “Our biker chick here has got steadily more broody since she took up with that big beast of hers. You’re still young enough, Sar, you thinking of trying for another?”

That hurt. I couldn’t tell her, I really couldn’t. I had Jim to think of, for starters.

“Suzy…Anne, I have to let you into a little secret, but it is secret, OK?”

They both nodded.

“I have problems in that area. I can’t have kids. Jim is the best I can do. To be honest, he is the best I could ever imagine.”

I dropped my voice and pulled them in close. “He’s started calling me mummy”

There was one of those female ‘Awwwwww’ moments, and I got a couple of hugs, and then Andy appeared. “Hello, gorgeous, how’s the boyfriend treating you?”

“Hi, Andy, wonderfully, as always. Couldn’t be better. As I tell you every time you ask”

“Well, a chap’s got to try, hasn’t he?”

“Yes, and you are” (three girl chorus) “very trying!”

He grinned, and sorted himself a coffee. “Been a few changes while you were away. Old Alan’s eased off a bit. He’s even shaved that fungus off, must have a woman in his life. Or a man, perhaps!”

He likes his own jokes, does Andy.

“He looks better without it, a lot softer. I mean, it always made him look like that Wimpy bloke from Popeye, you know?”

For such a twat, he was actually spot on. Al…an did look better without it, but part of that, when he came in for his tea, was obviously simple happiness.

“Morning, Sar! How’s the jet lag?”

“Just about sorted, Al”

My way of keeping it straight… “I was thinking of asking Arris over for a weekend. Fancy coming along? Enid might be down as well”

“That would be great, we could go over by Joss Bay, perhaps.”

I could see Andy putting things together in his head and getting completely the wrong answer, but never mind. Alan asked for a quiet word.

“Sar, I need to ask you a favour. I am going to ask my doctor if can start some hormone therapy.”

I was astonished. This was quicker than Tony or I had guessed it would be.

“Sar, I can see what you are thinking, but look…I’m 60, I have a last chance to live as I should have been doing for years, but I want to do it safely. I just need you to fill the prescription for me if I get it. I can’t let the others see it, and I am well known enough that any other chemist would cause gossip”

“Alan, of course I will, but you knew that already.”

“Yes, but I was brought up to be polite”

“Al, we have a question for you as well. What would you say to living with us part time? It would be when you are off from here, and it would help us look after Jim when we are both at work.”

“Who are you asking to stay with you, Sarah?”

I smiled at him, her. “Whoever wants to come”

She smiled at me. “I shall bring Jessica then”

A dew days later, after some work clearing Jim’s toy depot from the spare room, she moved in, and Jessica turned out to be a large and very well worn rag doll, who took up immediate residence on the bed. Alice changed almost as soon as she was in the front door, and then threw me out of my own kitchen as she began maiden-aunting her way through making tea for the two boys. Tony had gone to pick up Jim, and after a happy shout, he was quickly into an account of playground and classroom dramas. I realised that she was getting much of the same joy from him as I did. Meeting his needs met hers. I broke into Jim’s recitation.

“Jim, Aunty Alice is going to start staying here every few days so that you can be looked after from school. Is that OK?”

“Will she be an aunty all the time? She’s always nice, but the aunty’s better”

“Yes, she will, and you must promise not to tell anyone that she isn’t always an aunty. Some people aren’t nice. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Mummy, it’s cause they would laugh at her, isn’t it? I wouldn’t like that.”

“That’s right, darling. You are a very clever and sensible boy”

Just like that. The resilience, the adaptability, of children astonishes me, but it gives me hope that some day we can start to break down the old attitudes of people like Andy, or that bastard Joe. There might actually be a world which it is worth bringing more children into.

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Arris was over with Steve and the herd the following weekend. I had primed them about Alice, so there were no surprises beyond an obvious once-over of her appearance, which seemed to pass muster with the kids. It was a real houseful, the children all camped out in Jim’s room in sleeping bags. Typically for Jim, when offered the choice of sleeping in his bed or ‘camping’ on the floor, he went for the sleeping bag. Suzy and Ali had his bed, while he slept with Stevie on mats on the floor. Arris and Steve took the sofa bed.

We adults sat and talked, and did the boring thing with the CDs I had downloaded the holiday pictures onto. I got another surprise as we did so: Alice got her knitting out. We all stared, rather rudely, and she just said “What?”, then grinned and carried on with her purling and casting, whatever it’s called.

Look, I’m a rock chick, what the hell am I going to know about knitting? Steve just rumbled out what he called a chuckle.

“Tell you what, people, let’s just film her now, give the video to her psychiatrist, and save the NHS a lot of time and money in diagnosis!”

CHAPTER 24
Enid was down late that evening, and to no great surprise from anyone settled herself into the attic. I had to blink at that one. I had been quite a fan of H.P. Lovecraft as a child, and attic rooms normally involved semi-batrachian half-breeds, or amorphous creatures of darkness from beyond….well, mothers-in-law.

Alice had offered her a share of her bed, which made me blink again, but Enid simply smiled. “You snore, dear, and besides, people will talk.”

In the morning she looked at me and Tony. “The doctor thought we must be, but we aren’t, you know. It’s just that since my Tony, your dad, went, I have had nobody really to talk to.”

Tony started to apologise.

“No, it’s not that, you are both always here for me, and there’s Jim, but it’s nice sometimes to just natter with someone from the same background, and Alice and I are of an age. We even had crushes on the same singers when we were young, can you believe that?”

Enid leant forward, while Alice mock-whistled, nonchalantly. “Did you know she has ALL of Peter Noone’s recordings? Even videos of his films?”

I had to start laughing at that one. The thought of these two in some theatre in their youth, screaming with excitement at a pop group, got me giggling, up to the point where I realised Alice had never been allowed to do anything like that. She had simply done what she could in private, and I understood where the knitting came from.

She is perceptive, is Alice. She guessed my thoughts. ”Yes, Sar, that’s why I knit. I sew as well, in fact Jessica is one of mine. I couldn’t really walk into a shop and buy her, could I? Enid and I have been looking at sewing patterns, and I do believe we will be making some nicer clothes for me.”

“Oh, you sod, Alice, I was hoping I had my Christmas presents sorted!”

“There’s always underwear….” She was blushing slightly.

“Anyway, there is no way I am going to try and feed this crowd breakfast, my name isn’t Delia. Joss Bay it is, and breakfast at the Digby!”

With Enid’s and Steve’s cars, there was enough room for four adults and four secured children to be driven up the coast. I wanted more, though, and with just a little persuasion Tony got her out, his Norvin. If I had had the relevant parts, I am sure I would have been getting rather moist as he carefully set the spark, turned on the fuel and came off the ground to hammer down the kick start. Then again. And again.

Pause to breathe…and then up, down, and bang she was running, that odd warbling rumble that a 50 degree V-twin makes, and I wriggled into the tiny back seat between Tony and the tail fairing, hands on his hips, and he gave me the usual instruction not to try and ride it. Up Castle Hill, the vibrations doing things to my stomach, and then really cranked over around the double roundabouts for the Sandwich road. She was running like a watch, and as we passed the cars I am sure that it wasn’t only Steve and Arris who were jealous. I wondered if I could persuade Tony to have a pint or two, so I could ride it back….

Joss Bay is a little stretch of sand near Broadstairs, with chalk stacks, clean sand, and ‘smugglers’ caves’. A scruffy pub overlooks the beach, and they do breakfasts, so we descended en masse and commandeered what seemed like half their restaurant. I looked down to the beach; the tide was receding, so no safety problems, and there were oystercatchers and fulmars, and a couple of sanderling, like wind up toys as they dashed in and out of the receding and advancing waves.

Breakfast was more than adequate, and we set off down the narrow cut behind the pub. Steve and Arris went climbing round the caves with the children, while Tony and I skimmed pebbles over the water.

You know, it was only then that I realised that Alice was out as herself. With a headscarf over her hair, she was walking arm-in-arm with Enid just like any other pair of mature ladies out at the coast with their family.

They really had become fast friends, and it brought home to me how lonely Enid must be, at home in Harwich with a big house and an empty bed. Despite the doctor’s mistaken assumption, there was clearly nothing of that kind between the two, they had just clicked as best friends.

I started to giggle, imagining the two of them in some teenage girl ritual of swearing BFFEAE, and of course Tony asked, and I had to explain, and his laughter echoed off the cliff.

We made our way back tired and happy, flushed from the November wind, and the miserable bastard still wouldn’t let me do the riding. One day I’d have to sneak his handcuffs out and fasten him to the bed…but then I’d probably just get distracted by that and forget exactly why I had tied him down. I noticed that all four kids were using “aunty” and “nana”, and neither of our older ladies objected. This was how life should be: acceptance, affection, the joys of the young being shared with those who went before. Alice was looking thoughtful.

Back at home, she did her usual trick of disappearing into the kitchen to make hot drinks, and she seemed rather quiet. I gave her a squeeze.

“Are you all right, dear?”

“Just thinking, my love”

“Penny for them?”

“This has been such a good day, and so easy for me to do. But that is with all of my friends and, dare I say it, family around me”

“It is your family, if you want it, Alice. Aunties are family.”

“It’s just that I never, ever dared hope that I could ever have anything like this. Please don’t get this wrong, you have been wonderful to me, but it is Enid who has made the real difference. Such a true friend, and I so wish I had had someone like her so much earlier.”

“I know, Alice. I had Elaine, and Becky and Jo…”

That was a little too much for me, and I got a little weepy, having to explain why to Alice, and she joined me. Tony stuck his head in to see where his cuppa was, and so we were joined by Arris and Enid.

The more I saw of the real Alice, the more I knew what she was, and as I mourned her wasted years my own desert came back to me. There was no way either of us could go back and put that right, but from now on I would do my best to seize life by the scruff and shake it. Alice was clearly thinking along similar lines.

“Girls, I have been thinking. I do believe Sar understands where I am coming from, but this is it. I have had enough of loneliness, I have had enough of tears. I have told too many lies, to myself and to others. It stops.

“The more I am allowed to be like this, the harder I find it to pretend I am something else. I need to break out of the lies.

“I intend to go full time as myself. There will be problems, there will be nastiness, but I know where my friends are and I know they are with me. Assuming my therapist doesn’t throw a tantrum, I would like your help in coming out at work and in the rest of my life”

She grinned ruefully. “There’s a joke in itself. I am already out in the rest of my life, because that is who you are”

That was not unexpected, to be honest. Joss Bay had shown her to be happy n public, as long as she had support. What happened outside the comfort zone might be different.

“Alice, you know we are there for you. Talk to her first, see what she says. I need you happy and whole, you have some serious babysitting to do in January!”

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A few days later, I waited with ‘Alan’ outside her therapist’s door.

“Remember, love, I am not here to speak for you, just to show support”

We entered when called, and I saw a short dumpy little woman with a crown of hair, rather resembling Miriam Margolyes. She was called Astrid, and after explaining who I was I left them to their discussion. When it came to timing, I couldn’t resist it, however.

“I will be needing Alice’s help in January, so it would be nice if she was stressed as little as possible. I have to spend some time n hospital, surgery.”

Astrid nodded. “I see. Women’s things?”

I started to laugh at that, it was really just too funny. “Yes, literally. Penectomy and vaginoplasty are definitely women’s things!”

“Bugger me backwards!”

There is always something satisfying in getting one over a shrink. We went into more detail, and Astrid spent a lot of the time just nodding.

“I see now where the strength of your support comes from, Alice. You are a very lucky woman. Yes, woman; as I said on our first meeting, I was concerned more with where you fitted on the cline of types than whether you were an attention seeker or delusional.

“Now, if you feel that you have enough support to do so, I am more than happy for you to change roles, but be aware that there is no way I will be writing you prescriptions until you have had a much more exacting examination. You two of all people should understand that.”

She turned to her computer terminal and began typing, then printed off a letter.

“This is a note explaining to anyone who needs to know that you are a transwoman in transition. It may be necessary, and you will need to send a copy to your employers for a start.

“Alice, just promise me one thing: be careful!”

http://uk-shore.com/photos/kent/jossbay00011l.jpg

CHAPTER 25
Alice wanted to go charging into work, fully frocked, fired with the determination to finally do something with her real life. I told her not to be so daft.

She was on such a high, buzzing with the idea that the world was full of nice people, who would all be fluffy if you just let them. She was like a Guardian journalist, unable to understand that just because you think well of others, they don’t necessarily think, or want to think, nicely of you.

“Alice, I need to get you a Becky pause button installed. Come here, I have something to show you”

I was being particularly cruel to her. I had trawled the internet for cases of transphobia, particularly ‘orrible murder, to try and ram the point home that she needed, really needed, to be careful.

It is an odd thing, but older men are often able to pass reasonably well as older women, as the coarser skin and wrinkling fits the image. It’s when the less feminine crossdresser or transwoman tries to hang onto glamour and youth that, just like genetic women, they start to look silly, or worse: obvious. I didn’t know what the solution was. Fortunately, a big chain chemist in a tourist-trap city centre is not the place to have regular customers, so that was one hurdle down. The head office, as I knew intimately, had a very strong ‘diversity’ policy, so that was another. Alice’s home and family now, effectively, being us, was one of the biggest advantages.

That left two potential minefields: the street, and work. There was nothing I could do personally about the street, but I thought I would at least try and sound out work. The general floor drones were no real problem, as any lip and they would be out. That sounds callous, but it was fully in accordance with their contracts as well as national employment law, and to be honest, I had no time for arseholes.

First, with Alice’s permission, I called up an old ally from work.

“Margaret Price-Thomas speaking”

Queen bitch.

“Mrs Price-Thomas, I don’t know if you remember me, it’s Sarah Powell. I was in Swansea, but now n Canterbury”

“Of course I remember you, dear girl, how could I forget my brave little all-new woman? Call me Margaret, for god’s sake!”

Her voce took on a harder tone. “Not more trouble like that little shit who had the. accident?”

I laughed at that. “Margaret, I have my operation in January, I am engaged to be married, and I am a mum! That should answer all the questions you need to ask!”

“Well, all except three. Firstly, are you happy now?”

“Blissfully. He is a truly wonderful man. He’s called Tony”

“Secondly, how the hell did you become a mother?”

I explained it all, the meeting after years apart, little Jim, how he decided that calling me ‘mummy’ was the right and proper thing. Margaret filled in the gaps with little questions, which I assumed did not count towards her total of three.

“Finally, Sarah, I am delighted that you have contacted me, and it is wonderful and personally warming to hear your news, but…why have you called me?”

“Em, Margaret, all I can say is sort of ‘Houston, we have a problem. It’s Alan, my manager.. Well, not really manager, he’s” (concentrate on the pronouns) “part-time now, so I am effectively La Suprema”

“Yes, Sarah, I know all that, it goes with my job. Is he causing you problems?”

“In a manner of speaking, Margaret. I don’t know quite how to put this….”

How to tell her? Not an easy task, but she had proven herself the hard way to be an honest and open-minded person, at least where transgender issues were concerned. I decided to use her own words.

“Margaret, you called me an ‘all-new’ woman. Well, Alan is a sort of older all-new woman”

There was silence at the other end. I waited, then broke it.

“Her name is Alice”

Margaret drew a deep and clearly audible breath. “I have to ask, Sarah, is this any of your doing or resulting in any way from your influence?”

“No, Margaret, it is something that Alice has always felt. It is one of the reasons she was so supportive of me. I just put her life into perspective. She has decided it is time to stop pretending.”

I outlined the hurdles I had identified, and could almost hear Margaret nodding at the other end of the line. “Yes….I can move things as necessary at this end, and a name change can be easily dealt with. You are also right about the shop floor staff, they are hardly there for a career, are they? Now, talk me through the pharmacy crew. Are any of them apart from Alan, I mean Alice, aware of your own situation?”

“No”

“Do not tell them. That would inspire people of s certain…temperament to lodge a reverse discrimination case”

“Well, we have three fixed staff members. There are two girls, Anne Wetherby and Suzy Jameson. I have reasonable expectations that they will be easily brought on-side, just need to sound them out a little”

“Here is a suggestion. Either take a book to work, and I would suggest the Jan Morris autobiography, and leave it lying around, or find a current news story to just happen to discuss. The press love gender bender stories, there will always be one somewhere. Do not just raise the issue out of the blue. Who is the other one?”

“Andrew Watson. He’s a bit–“

“Of a shagger, I know, his reputation precedes him on every seminar and training course. All you can do is treat him like the rest. He will either come on side, or he won’t. And f he causes waves, he is in a boat with very little freeboard”

Just as hard as I remembered.

“May I have a word with Ms Hill now, please, Sarah?”

I called Alice into the office and went to leave, but she waved me to stay. Needless to say, I only got half of the conversation.

“Alice Hill…”

“Yes, Margaret, I didn’t see the point of saying ‘Alan’”

“All my life, Margaret, since I was old enough to know the difference”

“No, not at all! She simply put things into perspective for me. Made me decide, made me realise I needed to do something or just collapse”

“Yes, Margaret. Many times. More times than I can remember. To be honest, a few years ago I spent several hours on Shakespeare Cliff”

Oh shit, she had never mentioned that to me!

“No, I am too much of a coward. Yes, she’s still here, I have no secrets from her”

Yes you fucking well do!

“She has been more than supportive, the whole family and their friends are behind me”

She laughed “I am now officially Aunty Alice. Jim asks if I can always be Aunty and not the other one”

“Well, I have a very good friend who is going with me”

“Yes, I have a charming lady therapist called Astrid, and she agrees with me, sensible girl”

“Well, Sarah wants me to slow down, but I need to get this moving”

“Yes, I know she is”

Margaret seemed to talk to him for a considerable period, and all Alice did was make place-keeping comments like “aha” and "of course”

“Yes, the girls I think will be fine, it is young Watson I am a little concerned about”

“That’s right, a little concerned. I have my family round me now”

“Yes, that is how I see them, and I believe that is how they see me”

She looked at me and smiled as she said that. I nodded emphatically, and took her hand.

“No, Margaret, I am not going to ‘swan in wearing a twin set and pearls’. We have a uniform code”

“Sarah has already told me I can’t and shouldn’t. It makes sense to me”

“Yes, that sounds like a good plan”

“No, seriously, she is gorgeous, though she could do something with her hair. I look like an ugly sister.”

“That is an excellent idea! Thank you, Margaret! I will await your mail.”

“Yes, she is still here”

Alice passed me the phone. “Yes, Margaret”

“We will go with the hint-dropping plan for now, and see how people react. I have an old friend who works at the Marlowe Theatre, and she may have some ideas on presentation. I am sending Alice her contact details, and I assume you will be open with her.

“Now, Ms Powell I am trusting you to be careful with your new family member. Don’t drop her, she may break”

Alice was on her way.

CHAPTER 26
I went down the High Street an hour later and called in at Borders, who happened to have a copy of “Conundrum” on their shelves. I had a stroke of luck, too, as they actually had one of Caroline Cossey’s autobiographies in stock, the second one, ”My Story”

No, I don’t spend my time looking for others like me, but every time I undressed I was reminded forcefully of exactly what I was, and you can’t help but be aware of someone that fought so hard for the law to be changed. At some point I would be marrying my hair bear, and I assumed legally adopting Jim. That I could do that was largely a result of the shitstorm she had kicked up. I mean, she was a tarty bit of fluff, all tits and legs, not my type at all, and no way was I jealous. But at least my tits were all my own.

It took nearly a week before anyone noticed what I was reading. Christmas was nearly on us, and I can only assume that the crew were preoccupied. But it was Andy who first noticed. Sod’s law.

“Isn’t that the bit on the old Smirnoff posters?”

“Yes, Andrew, it is the girl from the vodka advert”

“She’s the one who had the old nip and tuck, isn’t she?”

Spare me from the subtle ones…but it had to be done. He was in full flow by then.

“Yeah, that’s the one, she was a Bond girl! Then the News of the Screws fucked her over, didn’t they? Bastards”

Hang on, rewind, was I hearing some sympathy here?

“What do you mean, Andy?”

“Wasn’t she getting married or something and they dropped her in it?”

“Yeah, they did. She went to the European Court and won, but then our government won on appeal”

“Why would they do that? I mean, why appeal? What was wrong with what she wanted?”

This was surreal. Andy must have caught my expression.

“I know you think I’m a twat, Sar, and I might be in your eyes, but I’m not a complete arsehole. Look, it’s like this….and don’t get all hoity-toity with me, I like my bits, right? Lots of women like my bits as well, he adds modestly, and the thought of having them sliced off makes me shit myself, OK? To be in such a state that you actually WANT them lopped off, that fries my brain!

“That means they must have a really shitty life, and to have some cunt–sorry–of a gutter journo come splashing you all over the front page, it’s just not right”

“Yes, Andy, but how would you feel if you met one in the flesh?"

“Well, if it was her, say no more!”

“Most” of us “don’t look like her, Andy, she has a genetic problem”

“I wouldn’t call it bad genetics to look like that, Sar! I hasten to add that that is not me saying I would want to look like her, just look AT her!”

He turned thoughtful. “You know something, Sar? I think we must have at least one on our books.”

Oh fuck. “What do you mean, Andy? How do you work that out?”

“Well, look at the stock we go through. The stuff for them would be much the same as we give out in HRT, right? I mean, it IS HRT, isn’t it? Now, I think we stock, and use, more of the HRT stuff than is explained by little old ladies with hot flushes or wrinkly tarts off to grab-a-granny nights. So, I make it that we have at least one getting a regular scrip filled here.”

Yes, me, you rather too clever dickhead.

“Any ideas who?”

“Nope, not spotted any obvious gender benders, nor would I want to. They’ve got enough shit on their plate without being stared at”

I was really bowled over by him. There was a lot more to Mr Rent a Cock than I thought.

“So you wouldn’t feel the need to get into a nice little frock, then, Andy? Just for a thrill?”

“Nah, that’s different, innit? We’re not talking about trannies, are we, we’re talking about people who’ve been fucked up”

Not quite so understanding then…

“I mean, it’s like they’ve come down with cancer or something. It’s not their fault, but they still get shit. Look, Sar, this s a bit of a heavy discussion for a break time, but look at it this way. You being a sheepshagger won’t understand this, but I’m English, and proud of it. We believe in a bit of fair play, right? You don’t crap on somebody just because you can. It’s like that Aussie thing, the ‘fair go’. Give someone a chance, and if they fuck up it’s up to them, but give them that fair go first. It’s only right”

“I’ll give head office a ring and tell them our next staff member should be a transsexual, then?”

He laughed. “Sar, I only ever ask two things about a workmate. Can they do their job, and do they get on with people. Of course, if they are women, they should have nice arses, and no dykes of course”

That was out of the blue. “What do you have against lesbians, Andy?”

He roared with laughter. “Got nothing against rugmunchers! Could watch them all day! It’s just that I’m greedy, and that’s two women who are unavailable! Course, if they are hounds, it doesn’t matter”

I had to laugh back. “You really are a sexist tosser, aren’t you, Andy?”

He grinned. “Yeah, but I have a certain perverse charm. Pity you never fell for it”

“I am spoken for, you know”

His whole manner changed. “Sar, I know, and I know I haven’t really said this before, but I like you, as well as fancying you, of course, but I like you. To see how happy you have been since you got together with your knuckle dragger does me proud. I don’t know if I will ever do that, settle down I mean. I like my fun too much, me. But I am happy for you, it suits you, especially being a mum.

“Why the hell are we having this discussion, anyway? Work to do, women to shag. So many, so little time”

“Well, from what I hear, it takes you so little time you have an advantage there!”

“Oh you bitch!”

Off he went, laughing. I realised Suzy was standing by the door.

“Did I just hear Randy Andy being a decent human being for three seconds, Sar?”

“Indeed, Suze, shocking, wasn’t it? He was actually talking sense!”

Anne joined us. “Bits of it, but I can’t agree about the gender benders. I mean, what’s that all about? Creeps me out, that does. Why are you reading that, anyway?”

“Cause it’s interesting, Anne. The way the papers screwed her is very enlightening”

“Yeah, but look at her, she gets her tits out in the papers, and everything else out in Playboy, and then complains about being in the press? It isn’t natural. If God had meant them to be girls, he would have made them girls.”

“I didn’t realise you were so religious, Anne”

“Well, I don’t bring it to work, do I? “

That was a real surprise. I had been braced for a collision with Andy, and it looked more like Anne who would be the problem. Don’t make assumptions, Sarah. I ran the conversation past Tony and Alice that night. Alice was philosophical.

“Well, we knew it wouldn’t be plain sailing forever”

Tony chuckled. “Did you hear what you said just then? ‘We’ “

Alice smiled back. “Quite deliberate, Tone, I am rather good at spotting who my friends are. Now, I have a bit of an idea, but I want to do some sounding out before I bring you in on it. Can you please leave it with me?”

CHAPTER 27
About a week later, just as we finished tea ,there was a knock at the door. Alice, who was unusually in drag as Alan, leapt up to answer it. I heard a muffled conversation, but could just pick out a couple of ‘Alans’

She...he…came to the living room with a dumpy, florid-faced man.

“Patrick, this is my adopted family, Sarah…Sar…and Tony. Tony, Sar, this is Patrick. Tea, or a nip, Pat?”

“Er, can I be rude and ask for both, Al?”

“Of course, you would expect no less.”

She busied herself n the kitchen, and as we sat trying to make small talk with a stranger, she appeared again with a tumbler of what smelled like whisky, and a tray of cups of tea. As the tray was set down, Pat unwound his scarf to reveal a dog collar. He was a fucking priest. I will be blunt here: I do not like priests, of any sect, cult, denomination, whatever, but particularly not Roman Catholics.

“Tone, Sar, meet one of my oldest drinking buddies, Father Patrick Malahyde. Pat, I have sort of introduced these two, but please understand that I really do consider them my family”

“Al, you have been on your own far too long, this is good stuff”

He sipped the whisky. “This IS good stuff, Al. Laphroaig?”

“Yes. You have a good nose; sorry, Tone, I hope you don’t mind me nicking some. Pat, we need to run something past you, and it is very…personal.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Al---what? So we keep a swear box in the vestry, I’ll do the honours later. Look, Al, if you are trying to tell me you are on the other bus, I already know, and don’t actually care, so you don’t need to embarrass your family”

Bloody hell, what had happened to the miserable fucking bigots that I remembered as the priests of my childhood?

Alice was speaking. “It’s not like that, Pat. Now you know I am a good Catholic…I just don’t do the church thing. I just need a bit of a hand at the moment. I’m at a sort of crossroads. I know where I am going, I just need a little help with the traffic. Bless me, Father, for I have sinned”

“Alan, we can’t do that here, I don’t know what you have done, but this should be private”

“Pat, please trust me, these two lovely people know exactly what I am about to tell you, but I must ask that this has the confessional seal upon it.”

“Al, I need no wooden shed to do that bit. Your confession is between you and God, and he needs no man-made structures for that. I ask you formally, Alan Hill, if you truly wish to confess your sins before these witnesses”

“I do, Father”

Pat sighed, and looked at me and Tony. “What the fuck has he done?”

Alice spoke. “She”

His eyes widened, and then he nodded, This was a sharp man, and I could see him being very dangerous in the wrong circumstances.

“Oh fuck. Talk to me, my……daughter? Oh shit, mate, I always knew you were a bit off kilter, I should have spotted this one. The beard was the problem”

Pat looked at us again. “You obviously know all about this. Just answer me this, shut up Al, is he, she, happy?”

I spoke for us. “I do believe so, Pat. Her immediate problem s that the Church appears to condemn people like her”

“Bollocks. Er, anyone got a couple of quid? Got no change for the swear box. Look, Al, what do I call you now?”

We all answered at once. “Alice”

“OK, Alice, you clear off and come back when you are yourself. Tony, bring the bottle, please”

Tony did the duties. I looked at Pat. “What happened to not wearing the raiment etc of the opposite sex?”

“Oh the new boss rewrote the old rules, something about loving people. I really can’t be arsed with all that smiting stuff.”

He poured himself a huge measure of the malt. Alice didn’t take long.

“Al ,mate, it works for me. Now, I have to ask, do you have anything beyond not confessing for a while?”

“Not that I can think of”

“OK, one Hail Mary for being a dirty stop out. Now, Alice, I have to explain something to you. Please listen, and inwardly digest.

“God creates souls. That soul is who you are. The challenge God sets you is to be the best you can. Now, there are obstacles that fall n your way. An example is small pox. Man found a way of stopping that one, and that was God’s work.

“People are born with hare lips, and surgery by man heals them. What is the difference between healing a hare lip and healing a gender anomaly?”

I bit my tongue,, before I could launch into a reply. Much as I thought Pat was talking crap, he was still making sense if you bought into his superstition. More than that, what he said was actually rather beautiful.

“Alice, please forgive me if I am less than eloquent here, but you really have dropped a big one in my lap, and it’s got a burning fuse and ‘bomb’ written on it. Here’s my take, and to be honest here, it’s what my Cardinal has spoken to me about on occasions.”

He looked at us all, and grinned. “We actually read the papers, you know.. There are certain hard limits on what the Church will allow. Within those limits, however, we can be flexible. Take dress, for example. What is acceptably modest today would have been scandalous a few years ago.

"Now, I will not marry divorced people. Marriage is a sacrament, and I can never accept its breach by a civil court. I cannot marry two people who are not born to different genders. That is doctrine, official Church policy if you will. The matter has never come up for me, but it is what I would be bound to if it did”

He looked sharply at her. “Al, tell me you aren’t….”

She grinned back. “That’s a flattering thought, Pat, but no, not yet.”

Oh you tease!

Pat winced. “Right, so you understand what the Church says. I cannot perform certain services for that sort of person, full stop. However…while there are these limitations, I will not turn my back on any of my Father’s children. If being the best you can involves a bit of surgery, bugger doctrine, up to a certain point.”

I couldn’t resist it. “What about women priests?”

Pat grinned, in a very evil way. “That would be a fun one to argue, but we are here to help and support Al here, so all I will say is ‘God the Father’ and leave it there for now. If you would like to come to Church, we could discuss that one in depth”

Devious bastard, but I was warming to him. “Pat, you’re right, it is Alice we are here to discuss.”

I filled him in on the story that far, up to our attempts at subtly bringing the subject out, and Anne’s reaction.

“Oh dear, I bet she has a picture of the Holy Father in the kitchen to oversee her housework. I know the type well. Which Church does she use, Al?”

“Holy Sepulchre, I think, Pat”

“Right, that’s Bill’s gaff. I think it’s time he dropped a sermon or two about all God’s chillun’s needing love. Good thinking, Alice. Leave it with me. I promise nothing, but I do have some rather juicy gossip about Bill from seminary days if he decides to be an arse about it”

He grinned again. “No, no blackmail, that would be a sin. Bill’s a sound man, he will understand. Alice, all of this discussion has been under the holy seal of the confessional. If I am to be open with Father Bill I need your permission to do so.”

Alice smiled at him, and I could see the hope in her eyes. “Certainly, Pat.”

“OK then, we have a plan. Bless you, my child, te absolvo. Go and sin no more.”

He sat back. “Fuck, Tony, I seem to have rather damaged your bottle. I will have to see if can find you a replacement when you come to Church”

CHAPTER 28
There was no way I was going to go down to the church.

While I appreciated everything Pat was doing, there was no way he was getting me on my knees to some Sky Pixie. I did that for Tony.…forget I said that. Sod it, Christmas was just round the corner, it would be all carol services and stuff. Perhaps I could break the habit, for Jim’s sake, and the singing.

Perhaps. Start with getting home life sorted for Christmas, then deal with Alice. Rushing would be foolish.

“Jim, have you decided what you would like to ask Santa for?”

“Mum….there is no Santa Claus. He couldn’t get round the world that quick”

“Is that right? Who eats the mince pies then? Who drinks the sherry?”

I hit him with my best argument. “Who fills your stocking?”

“Daddy sneaks in, I’ve seen him”

Bugger. Whatever happened to childhood? He’d want a mobile phone and a laptop next. “Well, if there is a Santa, what should he bring you?”

I was actually making a small bet with myself. Small boy nearly nine, no siblings…he didn’t disappoint.

”Mummy, I’d like a new bike like your one and a puppy, please”

‘Adult ’men: beer. Juvenile men: bikes and puppies. We were actually ahead of him, and I had a tiny road-style bike on order. ’like my one’, and I had already bought some shorter cranks for it and ordered smaller levers. The bike was crap, basically, but it would do him for the little while it would take for him to grew out of it

I had taken to volunteering as a Cyclecraft trainer at his school, so I would be doubly able to influence his riding behaviour. The puppy, though, that would be a problem, with both of us working. I wondered what Alice thought of dogs.

“Jim, you know what a puppy needs, don’t you?”

“Yes, bones and a collar and a lead”

“Why does it need a lead?”

“For walkies, of course, mummy”

“And who will take it for walkies?”

“Me!”

“Every day? On your own?”
He looked at me in that particular way children have, where they are clearly wondering how the all-powerful and omniscient adult can possibly be so stupid. I almost expected the next word to be “Duh’ “

“Aunty Alice can come!”

Oh, kid, if you only knew how much she would want to, how she would all but kill for the chance.

“Oh, Jim, you do know she can’t be Aunty outdoors, don’t you?”

“Mummy, she is always my Aunty even when she isn’t wearing her hair. It doesn’t matter.

“Mummy, why are you crying?”

I would talk to both Alice and Tony about a dog. A boy should have a dog. Jim was still talking.

“Are you coming on Tuesday, mummy?”

Tuesday? What was Tuesday? I suddenly remembered: the school nativity play. In all the fuss over Anne and Alice, I had almost forgotten. Jim was a shepherd. I went to the fridge where a couple of magnets held Tony’s roster. Week 4; he would be on lates.

“Yes, darling, I will come, but daddy can’t, he has to work. What time is it again?”

“Half past four”

I gave Anne a ring. “Hiya, I’m after a favour for Tuesday. Jim has his nativity play, so I need to get away early. You know what it’s like, so important that you are there”

“No problem, Sar. Is he going to be singing at all?”

How could someone with such shitty ideas be so amenable? I asked him.

“Yes, Anne, he will do two carols”

“Does he enjoy the singing? It’s just that my church has a carol service on Sunday evening, and we will be having all the usual stuff with it, mince pies and so on. It’s more of a thing for the kids, and it would be nice to see you there”

I imagined the introductions. “This is my colleague the unnatural abomination, Father. Shall we start the stoning, or go straight to the stake?”

Stop that, now. Tony was off…

“Anne, I have to ask Tony, but it sounds like a plan. You do know none of us are religious ,don’t you?”

“Oh yes, Sar, don’t worry about that, it’s more of a fun thing for the younger ones. We even get the Asian family in from the corner shop down the road, they say they like the tunes, and they bring a pile of nibbles, so we can’t turn them away, can we?”

“Anne, I have a very odd picture of Lucifer calling in with a box of sausage rolls”

She laughed. “Oh, Sarah, we do draw the line somewhere!”

Yes. Alice.

“OK, Anne, I’ll see you this week and let you know what Tony says.”

“Tell him there will be mulled wine”

“So I will have to drive? Great.”

“I rang Alan to ask him, lots of unattached ladies there, but all I got was his answering machine”

“I’ll let him know, Anne. See you at work”

Well, well. Perhaps we would get to hear one of the stealth sermons after all. I resolved to get Pat on the case, and wondered if he wanted some input. Preferably free of swearing. One thing struck me, and that was Anne’s comment about unattached women for ‘Alan’. I mean, Pat had assumed Alice was a gay man, and I got the impression that while she was not highly-sexed she was straight, but all of that seemed to have flown way over Anne’s head. I mean, even Andy occasionally suggested that he wasn’t too sure about Alice, but Anne seemed locked into a concept that having a willy meant fancying women. This was going to be hard work. If Alice…WHEN Alice came out, if Anne kicked off she would be open to some very, very heavy disciplinary and legal procedures, and she was a nice person at heart. It was just that rather festering and unpleasant blind spot of hers.

Part of me wanted simply to walk into the church with Alice as herself, and take the flak. It would certainly move things along, but perhaps not in the right way.

Stick with the plan, Sarah Marie, and get the tea sorted.

Alice was in later than Tony, and went straight away to get changed. There was something different about her when she came down, and not just the wig and the clothes. I was when she turned that I realised. She jiggled.

“Alice…” I pointed none too subtly at her chest.

“Oh, they are good, aren’t they, Sar? I went up and spent a lovely day at the Marlowe with Margaret’s friend. She has given me all sorts of advice, plus a few theatrical props. These were a present from her. It’s almost like having my own”

I changed the subject as quickly as I could, before she got morose, and spoke of Jim’s request.” What do you think, you two? Could we cope with a hound n the house?”

Tony looked upbeat at the thought. “The back garden is secure, so no escapes, and the floor in the extension by the kitchen is tiled, so that would do until t gets house broken. We’d need to choose the dog carefully, no great Danes, and certainly no rats on string. I want a dog-sized, dog-shaped dog”

“Who is this dog for, Tony? Jim, or you?”

Men.

Once Jim was in bed I broached the subject of the carol service. Both were keen to go, and see what the atmosphere was like in the church. Alice was very up for what she called a bit of monkey-prodding.

“I’ll give Pat a ring tomorrow, and see what he has lined up. It will be very interesting to hear what line he feeds them, Pat can be really devious ,you know.”

“I had sort of worked that one out, Alice. He’s still not going to get me genuflecting”

Tony started his usual snorting ,then went to his CD collection.

“I do believe the Bard had something to say on that point. Ah…here it is”

Our room filled with the sweet melody…of Tom Lehrer’s ‘Vatican Rag’

I so love my man!

CHAPTER 29
Tuesday came along on time, as it does each week, but it nearly caught me out. It was Anne who reminded me, and I was a little quick down the A2 on the bike...

I caught the silhouette of the police car just in time, and was only doing 80 as I passed. He didn’t pull out after me, so I relaxed a bit. I don’t try and deck the footpegs on the Whitfield roundabout as there are too many holidaymakers and foreigners coming across it with their brains in neutral and their eyes on their maps for it to be safe. Down the hill and through the lights, and soon I was home.

Shit, the clock was running, and I was in biker gear rather than mummy kit. No time to wash, just off with the leathers, on with the mother-frock, stuff small handbag into big one, on with some heels and out the door after a lippy retouch. I walked down to the school brushing my hair in the street as I pulled on my wool coat. Sod them, if they thought I was odd, I just didn’t have the time.

A flock of long-tailed tits zipped through the bare trees as I entered the school gates, and I got to the assembly hall and its seats at four twenty two. Made it.

The headmistress was waiting as I entered, slightly out of breath. She had a bit of a north-eastern accent.

“Hello, I’m Janet Hetherington, the head teacher. You are Jim Hall’s step mum, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Sarah Powell”

“I just wanted to congratulate you on how much of a difference you have made to Jim’s behaviour. He has always had a real problem with women teachers, and we don’t have much else at this stage in his education”

“Yes, Tony–his dad–said he was having difficulties relating to women after his mum passed away”

“That seems to have eased, he was always….well, not disruptive, but he would drift away in class. He has a new aunty as well, I believe”

Oh shit. “Yes, she’s very fond of him”

She leant in closer, and dropped her voice. “I understand. That little bald man that lost his beard and picks Jim up some days…is it just recreational, or is it more?”

“Janet, this is not an ideal time to discuss Alice, and I would rather not breach her confidence by doing so. All I feel able to say is this: no, it is not ‘recreational’, and she is a lovely lady whom I love deeply, and who loves Jim. Please, if this is a problem, I shall have to talk to her first”

“Oh, for God’s sake, Sarah, look at the size of my hands and feet. Just don’t make it obvious, I am completely a maiden head teacher from Sunderland as far as they are concerned. I tell you this only so you will understand I have no spiteful intent towards the poor girl”

This was surreal. “Have you had, you know, the op?”

“Over twenty years ago. Now, please, no voyeurism”

“What’s it like?”

It came out before I could shut my big mouth. “Mine’s in January”

“You are joking. I thought two of us was stretching things”

“No, that sort of slipped out.”

“Look, we have to talk properly at some point, but I HAVE to go now, we have a play to present. May I call round after?”

“Certainly. This is all very odd”

Fuck me was it odd. She was either telling the truth, in which case we might have a very useful ally, or she had been fishing and I had just dropped the entire family in the shit. All the lectures I had given Jim about being careful about what he said…shit.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Nativity plays are the same whichever school they are performed in. Lots of parts so that almost every child can be on stage, truly dreadful singing that only a parent could ever love, and a story that everyone knows. They sang “Once n Royal David’s City” to start with, and finished with “Away n a Manger” In between, the shepherds, all fourteen of them including Jim, did the nasty to “While Shepherds Watched”

He was a perfect little shepherd, in one of his dad’s grey T-shirts and one of my tea-towels held on his head by a sweatband. The training shoes didn’t really work, and his shepherd’s crook was obviously a broom handle with a cardboard cut-out hook taped to it, but he was grinning on the stage and clearly happy. Along with other parents, I got several good shots of my child in his moment of glory.

My child. Yes indeed.

I walked him back along the footpath to our house, him still in his shepherd costume but minus the crook, left behind as property of the school. Alice was home by then, and while I sent Jim to get himself ready for bed before I put the tea out, I ran her through the conversation..

“You haven’t changed yet, Alice. She will be coming round after tea”

“I will just check on Jim, then.”

I busied myself with some fish fingers as a treat for Jim, and warmed up left over shepherd’s pie for Alice and me as a joke I hoped Jim would spot, and just as I was about to plate up Alice came in to put the kettle on.
Alice. Not Alan.

“What are you doing? She is coming round in a matter of bloody minutes!”

“I know, but she has been open with you, I am not gong to hide from her”

“But we don’t know if we can trust her!”

“We can.”

“Alice, how the hell can you know that?”

“I asked Jim what he thought. He said I should wear my hair.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, woman, it’s too late now. Can you get him down for tea?”

Jim spotted what we had on our plates as I hid his. ”Shepherd’s pie! I’m a shepherd!”

“You want the pie?”

“Yes please!”

“You don’t want these fish fingers, peas, mash and ketchup then?”

“Mummy, you hid it!”

After a microsecond of indecision he went for the fish, exactly as I had expected, but I gave him some of mine so he could feel like a shepherd. We had just finished eating when the bell went. It was Janet.

I will admit I stared. As with Steph at the airport, I was looking for vestiges of masculinity, and now that I had been alerted, I saw what seemed to be some. Hands and feet a little larger than one would expect, a strong jaw line; nothing definite, but she could be being truthful. Jim had no worries. ”Mrs Hetherington! Hello! This is my mummy and my aunty Alice! They call mummy Sarah”

Alice and Janet eyed each other like two prizefighters before the bell, until Janet broke the spell, extending her hand to Alice.

“Hello, Alice, I am really pleased to meet you. It gets a bit lonely sometimes, and I hope we shall become friends”

That was a concept I understood extremely well .Being trans is not something you can share with anybody .All of our experiences are different, but at least another transgender person has that one thing in common with you. It was why Alice and I bonded so easily, and it was why she had trusted me as the person she came out to.

We are only human, after all, despite Anne’s opinion, and humans are sociable beings. We need contact. I had tried to live without it for so many years after Joe, and now that I had Tony I realised how wrong I had been. Alice wanted, needed love. Not some romantic fantasy, but the simple facts of affection and acceptance.. Janet sat and watched Jim for a few minutes as he prattled on about the play, then spoke to us.

“From what Sarah accidentally came out with, we have no need for the ritual of ‘I knew when I was…’ as we all know what we are. What I will do is give you a little history.

“I ran a small manufacturing firm, just small turned metal items,, until I could take no more, and sold up so I could get on with life. I started teacher training as Janet halfway through my life test, and when I came out of college I found a very amenable head who had a slight accident with some of my records, which then needed replacing.

“ Things weren’t as tight back then, you know, and as my college had awarded all my teaching certificates to Janet, that was no problem. When I left Sunderland my then head sent certified copies of things like my degree certificates to my new school, together with his references.

“Of course, he had carefully doctored the photocopies he faxed so that they were in my new name, and then the little fire ‘destroyed’ the originals, so sorry, but I can vouch for her”

Janet grinned. “I feel a bit like one of those CIA thriller heroines, all false identity and denial, but this ID is real. As far as anyone can tell, WYSIWYG. It is school tomorrow, James, I hope you won’t fall asleep on me”

Alice nodded, and I carried my little man up the stairs to his room, and read him some of ‘Dr Dolittle in the Moon’ before settling him down. They were laughing as I came back in, and for a moment I saw Enid in Janet’s smile. She turned to me.

“Sarah, it is just wonderful to be able to talk to someone about life who can follow my meaning. Someone who has the same bloody scars!”

Alice was smiling happily. “This is like a coven, Sar, we should invest in a cauldron”

“Please don’t say that to Anne, Alice, you’ll totally fuck her mind. You’ve explained the problem?”

Janet sighed. “She has, Sarah, but I am unsure of what advice I can usefully give on that problem, seeing as I have covered my tracks completely. I can help her with presentation, I can give her support, but I dealt with the bigots by running away”

So did I. Perhaps it was time to stand up; perhaps Alice was right about just pushing ahead.

No. Jim came first. No scandal or stupidity would hurt him, not if I could help it. We had a new ally, but the plan continued.

CHAPTER 30
Tony was in at eleven, and we were still swapping stories about gathering clothing, near misses, school days and all the other items and incidents that scarred us or brought a smile.

There were some poor Alice was excluded from, such as that first moment when you realise that, yes, those are really tits sprouting, and you can lose the balloons, or the socks, or the expensive wobbly plastic .A bottle or three of wine had somehow come undone , and I was really buzzing. One way or another, these two KNEW my life, or at least those parts of it that Arris, Elaine, Tony, whoever, could never really understand. These tow were sisters.

I had had conversations, communion, with Alice, obviously, but Janet brought a new angle, an edge that we had lacked. It excited Alice, clearly, but more than anything, it affirmed her life. My presence had told her that she was not only not mad, but not alone. Janet’s arrival said more than that.

Two is company. Three is commonplace. Normal.

Tony walked in on us, still in uniform under his jacket. He gave Janet an “I know you from somewhere” look, and went to hang his stuff up, after rather obviously putting a clean glass down next to the bottle then in use. He popped upstairs to check on Jim, and when he came down he had that soppy dad look on his face that I knew so well.

I fixed him with the stare. “Jim knows about you and Santa”

“Bugger. Who’s this, then, I know you from somewhere, don’t I?”

“I’m Janet Hetherington, Jim’s Head”

“Pleased to meet you. Is this an organised party, or just a random piss-up?”

There was s slightly fractious air to him, as if he had had a shitty day. I raised my eyebrows to Janet, and she gave me a slight nod.

“Tone, I am afraid this is secret squirrel stuff again. Janet’s sort of on the same bus as me and Alice”

I had got used to that, the sudden searching look, largely because I knew I did it myself. Janet stared back. “Is there a problem, Tony?”

“What, do I have a problem with transsexuals? As I am marrying one, and more importantly leave my son to be looked after by another, I would suggest that the answer should be obvious.”

He defused my objections with a wink. Cheeky bastard. I mean, he did have his priorities right, but…

I gave Tone the story to date, and ,bless him, he just sat quiet to the end, apart from getting another bottle out. Then he started asking the sharp questions.

“Janet, you are seriously hidden away. Who else around here knows?”

“Nobody. That is why it is so wonderful to have someone to talk to”

“So, if you are so deep in cover, what can you do for poor Alice here?”

“Honestly? At the moment I don’t know, but I can offer her a shoulder”

“She already has that with my mother. I am sorry to be brutal, Janet, but I am concerned about one thing here, and that is my family. Alice is family”

For some reason, he didn’t seem to be taking to Janet. He was staying polite, but there was a niggle. I closed down the evening as smoothly as I could (“work tomorrow, folks”) and when I was cuddled up to my hairy hot water bottle, I tackled him.

“You don’t like her, Tone”

“Oh, Sar, it’s not that. I just worry about Jim, and I can’t see what her motivation is in coming out to you two. Look, from what you say, she’s done a lot of stuff bordering on the illegal to cover her tracks, and suddenly she’s telling you the whole bit. That doesn’t seem right”

“I know what you mean, love, but it’s a loneliness thing with a lot of us. It’s a need to talk to someone about how you feel, someone that really understands you, someone who’s been there.”

I took a deep breath.

“Did you know Alice was suicidal before we met her?”

He paused, weighing his words. “No, I didn’t exactly know, but I guessed she might be. Sar, once I knew what your secret was, I did a lot of reading. I wanted to know what it was like”

“You can’t, really, Tone, that’s my point about Janet. She’s lived like this for so long. She got what she needed, she’s a woman in every way she can be and should have been from the beginning. She just has nobody to share it with. “

“Two things, love. You had known Alan for years before you met Alice, and he knew about you from before you arrived. He didn’t just launch into telling you, did he? It came out when he was really stressed. Sorry, but saying ‘him’ makes more sense in my head at the moment.”

“That’s the point, Tone, she needed someone to talk to, someone who understood from the inside”

“Yes, exactly. Now, you know I love Alice to bits, and I will deal with anyone who hurts her. But think: she broke cover only when she was really, really low, when something in her life hurt her that bit too much.

“Sar, I deal with liars and criminals for a living. The key is always the same thing: what is wrong with the picture? What is sticking out like a turd on a teacake? And more than that, why? Why is someone doing this trip, meeting those people? Motivation and incongruity, Sar. Coming out like this, in her situation, is deeply wrong, so I have to ask the ‘why’ question.

“Why now?”

I could see his point. I had got lost in our little coven, sharing our lives and seizing on the common ground, but he was right. There was no obvious reason for the timing of her confession, for that was what it seemed like. I would have to watch her.

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The carol service was the next weekend, and I got Alice to give us the low-down on etiquette in her brand of church. She was her usual dapper drag self, everything just so, shoes polished, tie knotted perfectly. Even Jim had a tie on, though that was on a piece of elastic. I went for blouse, skirt and plain heels, with a cardigan Alice had knitted, and to my surprise she brought out a small plain black hat with a narrow brim.

“Ladies cover, men doff, in Church”

I kept my opinion on inconsistent sky pixie rules to myself.

The Holy Sepulchre church was a typical RC place, all statues and pictures, and I could just see Cromwell’s men going through it with axe and hammer and torch. Tony looked around, grinned, and whispered to me “Don’t blink!”

We slipped in at the back, and I spotted Anne several pews forward, near the front. Naturally.

Jim enjoyed it, though some of the carols were a bit unfamiliar, and he was yelling along happily even if it was in his own range of keys. Tony surprised me with some powerful singing, and Alice was also in good voice. I kept mine as low as possible, as if genetics had allowed it, Jim clearly got his musical ability from me. Yes, I know all the jokes about Welsh singing, but…no. There were a few prayers, and a reading from ‘James’, and then the man in the dress climbed the stairs to his little tower.

So, this was Bill. Tall, thin, bald, very different from Pat. He was older, too, which spared me the joke of calling a kid ‘Father’.

There was some ritual greeting that I missed, and then Father Bill was into the meat.

“Today’s reading was from the Epistle of James. I shall also draw upon the first chapter of the Book of Genesis, but the basis of what I want to talk to you about today s the Gospel of Matthew, Chapter 19, Verse 19: you shall love thy neighbour as thyself.

What does that mean? It means what it says in the Book. Look around you: these are your neighbours, say hello, smile, shake hands”

There was a rustling through the church as people did just that.

“Now, up the street we have those odd people in St Nicholas’. Church of England. They are wrong, doctrinally, but they are your neighbours in Christ. We pray for them, even in their error, and our Holy Father in Heaven, and the Blessed Virgin Mother of Christ will, I am sure, smile on them when time runs its course. We can go further out, and further, and every human we encounter remains our neighbour, our neighbour in Christ, our neighbour in God.

“Now, we know who our neighbour is, but do we know what our neighbour is? Look around you again, my children. What do you see? Faces? Bodies? Badly-fitting shirts? No, what you see is an envelope, a box that your neighbour inhabits.

“Genesis, Chapter 1,verse 27, ‘So God created man, in his own image, in the image of God created he him; male and female created he them’. That is what you are seeing, God’s Holy Creation. But you are seeing an illusion. Behind that façade is an immortal soul, born of God. THAT is what your neighbour is. They are not black, or white; they are not male or female, they are not young or old, they are not supporters of a particular football team. They are little sparks of Godhead. To hate your neighbour is to hate God.

“Now, James…the Epistle is very clear and builds upon the message given by St Paul to the Romans, that faith is all. In James we have the corollary, that ‘faith without works is dead’

“Just because a man does the right thing, it does not mean that he is doing Right. He may be like the Pharisee, obsessed with form over truth. However, if that man professes to love God and nothing seems to come from that love, then he is a liar and a hypocrite.

“Let us come back to the clay that holds the immortal spark. We are all different, in size, shape, physical attractiveness, unfortunately, as I heard earlier, in singing ability. We differ in all sorts of ways, and it would be easy to say, based on what I have already said, that those differences are unimportant. That would be an error.

“God has created us with these differences for his own purpose, and that purpose is for us to redeem our immortal souls from our sins by being the best we can whatever hand the Lord has dealt us. Sometimes, that is hard. You will all know, of course, that every year this evening’s offerings and tithes are given to a different charity. This year, we will be helping to bring smiles to children in Indochina, who have been born with cleft palates as a result of some serious lack of neighbourly love there forty years ago. Our charity workers are examples of being the best you can, as are the volunteer surgeons.

“There are conditions of the flesh that drive people to commit the final sin, that of suicide. This is true of some of the children we are helping today. Thus, we are literally saving souls. A little surgery, born of men striving to be their best, saves a spark of God.

“There are people who are tried by God, as was Job, and remain strong, remain steady. There are others who cannot, and thus it is up to us to hold them up and lead them to Salvation. Think, for example, of those whom God has blessed with a body and mind of differing genders. How are we to deal with them? Modern surgery allows them to come close to harmony. We should similarly hold up these people, for Salvation can be theirs just as surely as it is for the Saints.

“God does not make mistakes. Neither does he torture people for no reason. By making his bodies imperfect, he allows his souls to rise higher than they would otherwise be able to.

“So, you know who your neighbour is. Love them with all your heart, and all your immortal soul, as you do the Lord God who created both of you. Go in peace”

CHAPTER 31
We followed the congregation into the church hall, where I laid out the fruits of my visit to the supermarket, the traditional mix of mince pies, sausage rolls and blueberry muffins for Jim. Anne spotted us, and came over, all smiles and sharp-dressing.

“You made it, then! Did you enjoy the singing, Jim?”

He seemed a little nervous of her as she gushed, and I wondered if that was a hint of how he had previously been around women. Then I realised, as she stood up from talking to him, and the wave of her perfume hit me. It was like chemical warfare.. Now, I like my smellies, but this was a bit much.

“What’s the perfume, Anne?”

“Oh, just some Armani thing I got at the airport. You like it?”

“It’s…striking. Jim, tell Anne what you thought of the singing”

“It was nice, they have a bigger organy thing than we have at school, and all those people in dresses were good singers, weren’t they, Mummy?”

Bless you, Jim. Anne’s eyes widened slightly, just for a moment.

“In dresses? Oh, you mean the choir, Jim. They are always looking for new boys to sing with them. Would you like to do that?”

Not in a thousand years, Anne. My boy makes up his own mind. Tony saved me from slipping into a rant.

“Jim already has a very full life, Anne, for starters with his mini-rugby, and while this is a nice evening out for the family, it’s actually a bit far for him to ride to. And with me on shifts, I can’t commit to things like that”

She missed the obvious flaw in that argument, which was the fact that he did manage to get Jim to his mini rugby.

“What did mummy and daddy think of it all, then? Oh, Alan, I didn’t spot you there”

“Hello, Anne, I thought I’d drag these heathens along for some education”

“Dead right, Alan, never any harm in hearing His Word. Though I thought Father Bill was a little off his normal line tonight.”

Time for some input of my own. “I was surprised, too, Anne. Speaking as a non-believer, I thought he made an awful lot of sense. That stuff about common humanity regardless of the wrappings was wonderfully put, though of course I don’t really go with all that bit about souls and salvation”

Tony gave me a little nudge, before I could get into my stride.

“Sar’s right, there. If all Jim got from tonight was a bit of an idea about love and tolerance, plus some fun singing, I will be happy. What did you think, Anne?”

That was her, on the spot. In a crowd of people, all of whom had just received a very clear message from the big man upstairs, would she fall in with the herd, or? In the end, she made no clear statement, just a few platitudes about trying to live better. I stopped pushing. This was, after all, just the opening salvo.

I deliberately didn’t corner Father Bill, but as a good vicar would, he made a point of speaking to strangers, so we got the usual anodyne “Hello, I am, you are, come again”
I wondered what Pat had on this man, he didn’t seem to match the sermon. Perhaps Pat would let us know, though I doubted it.

In the words of a certain shitty newspaper, we made our excuses and left, Jim managing to hide four muffins n his pockets, which I found on getting him ready for bed. Tony and I were not far behind; it had been quite a draining day. Alice changed, and sat downstairs knitting and watching some rubbish on the TV as I settled into Tony, and asked him what he was thinking.

“Pat did bloody well there. That was a devious sermon, for our purposes”

“Watch and wait, love. All we can do”

I sleep so much better when he is home.

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Tony did the school run the next morning as Alan (keep that thought) ran me to work.

“What was all that about last night with Anne, Alice? The perfume bath thing? My mam always said that if you have enough on that you smell it yourself, it’s too much. She called it ‘old lady scent’ “

“It was a bit strident, yes”

“I thought poor Jim was going to run away from her”

“I was thinking about that a lot. She doesn’t normally ramp up the make up so much, either. Has she got her eye on someone?”

It had come to me in one of those stupid moments in the small hours, where after spending all day trying to remember a name or solve a puzzle, the answer you already knew you knew surfaces, usually waking you at about two thirty in the morning. Anne had not only been dressed particularly smartly, she had also, for the first time I had ever seen, been wearing blusher. Looking back at it in my mind’s eye, she had had a rather careful make up job that just screamed ‘Addison’s beauty counter’, where the girls with the fireproof skin and impossible eye brows will give you a make over to let your true inner beauty emerge….

I use make up, it works for me. With my hair colour, my lashes would be almost invisible without a bit of black (blue looks silly), and some lippy adds focus to my smile. If going out I will use a bit more, it goes with dressing up, but I tend to be a bit ‘more is less’, while the counter girls use so much foundation and other preparations that I am surprised they can actually move their mouths. They certainly never smile, it would be like Dr Phibes.

I started laughing as we passed the Aylesham exit, and Alice gave me the “what’s funny?” look.

“I was just remembering an old comedy horror film, Alice, the one where Vincent Price wears the plaster heads and eats through the side of his neck. You understand, plastered on make up!”

There is a lay-by on the road just after that point. She had to use it before she crashed the car. Once she was under control, she made me promise not to do it again.

“Sarah, my dear, I will have to avoid the cosmetics section today. It would not be good for my image to be seen letting out a bit of wee in the aisles. Now, seeing as you have noticed this fact, I will leave it up to you to tease it out of her, but I have a feeling there might be rather more going on than our friend is letting the world know.”

She started to chuckle again. “I’m sorry, just had a vision of her taking a fishbone out of the side of her neck!”

That did it. I was off too.

Anne was late. Only by ten minutes, but that was definitely out of character, and all morning she seemed distracted. It was an odd mix, alternating between a dreamy look, and then a nervous fluster. It was Suzy who put it all together.

“Somebody got lucky last night, then”

Of course. I suddenly saw myself in her shoes, back in Swansea, back in the days of Joe and our little trysts, the ones where he got a gobble and I–well, I got used. It was that same mix of happy little memories and guilt, or perhaps shame. Anne was fornicating. If not actually doing the dirty with someone, she was thinking about it.

Matthew 5:28. That was the verse. I still have hangovers from my parents, and being staunch Chapel is one of them. “Whosever looketh on a woman to lust after, he hath committed adultery with her already in his heart”

Yes, I know it says ‘he’, but if I ever had a god he would be an equal-opportunity smiter. That was indeed what was going on with her, but whether she had taken the biggest step was moot. Perhaps Pat could make some gentle enquiries.

It was starting to come together in my mind now. Anne was one of those people who park on footpaths, because “I’m only going to be a minute”, while condemning anyone else that does the same. The reading from James must have cut her to the bone, if she had actually listened. I had a way into her, if I could find the lever to crack it open.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UUAVqWuP_Sc&feature=related The Phibes fish bone scene. Very silly.

CHAPTER 32
Christmas was on us far too soon. Arris and Steve were doing the full extended family thing in Reading, so we had plenty of room for once. This was going to be a big one.

I had asked Mam and Dad to come over, as well as Elaine and Siá¢n. With Enid and Alice, we were straining the capacity of the house, so it was out with the sofa bed, and Jim got to do his ‘fun’ thing with a mat and a sleeping bag.

To my surprise, if only a slight one, Enid suggested that she and Alice share a bed.

“No, dear, it’s nothing like that, it’s just nice to have some company and if we don’t you’re going to run out of space! It’s important to get your parents over. They need to meet us all at some point, and before the wedding is probably a good time”

That left Jim. Where to put him? It would have been with Enid, but with Alice there it raised all sorts of issues. In the end, I made some space in the little utility room under the stairs. Yes, I put my little boy in a broom cupboard!

We had some fun hanging it with sheets so that he was in his own little cocoon of make believe, and I ‘accidentally’ left some Dr Dolittle and a torch next to his bedding. Let him play, let him have his little patch of fantasy and magic..

We had his presents wrapped and hidden in the garage, and his stocking went up on the latch of the cupboard. That was the moment I realised how long it was since I had had a proper Christmas. I had simply avoided going home for years, sat in front of the telly, and drank. This was one I wanted to get right.

Enid was first down, greeting her best friend with a hug before fussing over Jim. Elaine hammered on the door a little later, and I opened it to find her, her wife and my parents. This was it, finally I was making Tony part of my family as he had made me part of his.

“Mam, tad, croeso! Der I mewn! Sut wyt ti wedi cadw, Siá¢n? Elaine, mae te yn y bot ”

I brought them into the living room and made the introductions. “Everyone, this is Twm and Sioned, my parents. Mam, dad, this my fiancé, Tony, his little boy Jim, Tony’s mother Enid and our good friend Jim’s Aunty Alice.

We had spent a huge amount of time arguing, but Alice had been insistent. This was to be her test of acceptability.

Dad shook Tony’s hand warmly, which was my first anticipated hurdle.

“I’ve heard a lot about you, son. Both of my daughters have sung your praises, so I am glad to finally meet the lad who has brought the smiles back.”

‘Daughters’. It still warmed me when he said that. Diolch yn fawr iawn i ti, fy nhad. I went to help pour the tea just as Mam gave Tony a kiss on the cheek, and then settled into old-lady-speak with Enid and Alice. Dad joined us.

“That Alice. She’s another one, isn’t she? Can she understand us?”

“No, Dad, she only speaks English and some French”

“Good. Then if I put my foot in it you can warn me off.”

There have been moments in my life when I have been struck with an almost physical blow in realising the depth of the mutual love between my parents and me, and it can hurt dreadfully as it reminds me that I can never be one myself, not in reality. This was one of those moments. He had come all the way to Dover on Christmas Eve for only a few days, to a place where they spoke a foreign language, and been presented with an elderly transvestite. And all he was concerned about was not hurting her. I flung my arms around his neck and kissed his cheek.

“What was that for?”

“Being my dad”

We took the tea out, and Jim was in full flow about Australia. I noticed he was already calling Mam “Nana Sioned”, but Dad was just “Granddad” . Enid looked wistful at that. She was clearly thinking about Tony the elder, dead before he could have seen Jim. Christmas is like that; the past is ever there.

He took Granddad to see his secret cave, and we got the rest of the crew stowed away. We were having a cold supper that evening, salads and meats and stuff, and Mam had brought some bara brith and my favourite mackerel with peppercorns to go with it, and we ended up spread round the living room in what can only be described as comfortable cuddles, Jim squeezed between Enid and Alice so that he could have them both. I was, of course, nagged to do the photos thing again, and after the food had had a chance to settle we opened some wine, with some beers for the older boys. Mam produced a flat wrapped package for Jim, which turned out to a chocolate selection box.

“One only, Jim!” I warned, “and it doesn’t go to bed with you. I still remember those muffins”

Dad started laughing, and was joined by Elaine.

“What did I say?”

Elaine looked at our parents. “Chwaer, you sounded so much like Mam just then!”

And the three of them were off.

We got Jim to bed after whatever silly film they were showing on the BBC, and I lay on the hall carpet next to his little cave.

“Do you want me to read you some more of Dr Dolittle, love?”

“Could Granddad do it for me, Mum?”

“You wait, I’ll go and ask him. He might be tired”

I popped my head around the door. “Dad, he is asking if you can give him his story. Do you mind?”

He hauled himself out of the settee and stretched out where I had been, and I showed him the place in the book. “ ‘Good morning, Doctor’ said Gub-Gub…”

Twenty minutes later he was back, and with a shock that swept me back years, to an evening with Elaine, at home after a dreadful funeral, I saw his eyes wet. Mam saw, and took his hand as he passed, but he remained standing.

“I need to say something, here and now. Years ago our lives took a blow I thought we would never recover from. My daughter came home, and told me she was a homosexual. That hurt me, but it hurt Sioned more. She couldn’t see where she had gone wrong, that her daughter had turned out queer. Yes, that was our word. What had Sioned done? She obviously hadn’t been enough of a mother, enough of a woman, for our daughter.

“Then Elaine brought our son to us, in a dress, and it was my turn to feel what she did. How could I have been a good father if he wasn’t just turning his back on acting as a man should but on the actual fact of BEING a man? It was Elaine that banged our heads together, and I remember what I said that evening.

“I have two pretty daughters, I said, and Sioned and I decided that we would do our best to be proud of them. They were, they are, our flesh. Then that bastard nearly destroyed our pretty little girl”

He stared hard at Tony, then. “Someone did the world a service a little while later, didn’t they?”

Tony looked away at that point.

“There has remained, however, one sadness in our lives. Elaine and her lovely wife seem to have decided not to go down that path, and obviously my little girl cannot”

Mam passed him a hanky. He wiped his eyes, and continued. “Tonight, however, it seems we have become grandparents, assuming your approval, Tony.”

“Of course, Twm. It’s what we would want, and Jim seems happy”

He stood, and two big, hard men hugged. I gave Tony his own tissue.

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A small meteorite landed on our bed at some bloody stupid hour of the morning.

“Morning Jim” groaned Tony, “has Santa been then?”

Jim wriggled his way under the duvet between us. Shit, his feet were cold.

“I love my new bike! And the Dennis the Menace real bike shirt!”

…and more, in the same vein. “But there was no puppy, Mummy”

“Be sensible, son. Do puppies come in boxes?”

“No….”

“Well, what we thought we would do is to have a look around some places after Christmas. We have to get just the right puppy, haven’t we?”

Bounce, bounce, bounce. Please ,just another half hour of sleep….

Mam brought in a cuppa for each of us, and after I had dragged myself to the toilet and back, I joined the sewing circle. Three old ladies, but out of the lavatory. The double act was clearly just about to hit the punch line about the first visit to the doctor, and Mam was laughing, so I sat down with Jim, who was wearing his cycling top over his pyjamas, and showed him how the gears worked.

Tony had shaken the happy couple awake, and the three of them rustled up the breakfast as we all did our morning rituals. Thank god for two toilets. I finished my last piece of toast.

“I start work on dinner at eleven. What do people want to do?”

I had a moment of inspiration. “How about Capel, and the memorial there? There’s not enough time for much else, and some fresh air will give us all an appetite.”

It is a well-thought out place, a few minutes along the coast from Dover. Paths laid out in the shape of a propeller radiate from a hub on which a more-than-life-size statue looks over the cliff edge towards France. Jim insisted on wearing his cycle top, though I drew the line at his shorts, and made sure he had a warm jacket over the top of everything. I also made him put his sweets into the fridge.

“Dinner later, not chocolate now! Not unless you don’t want Christmas pud and custard!”

I caught Mam grinning at me then. “Elaine was right, cariad! You are just like me!”

I linked arms as we walked out to the cars.

“See, Mam, you were a good role model after all”

http://medwayphotos.pwp.blueyonder.co.uk/Battle%20of%20Brita.... ‘The Waiting Pilot’, Battle of Britain memorial, Capel le Ferne.

http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2027/2450653160_dc5400cf25.jpg weathervane, same place.

CHAPTER 33
We spent an hour or so at the memorial, as a cold wind blasted in off the sea, the weathervane quivering like a nervous dog.

Alice, Enid and Mam all went for the headscarf style, but I prefer more modern kit like fleece hats. For a start, they are warmer. As part of his new kit, we had bought Jim a winter cycling hat and gloves and, well, he had the full set on.

Dad was quite sobered by the place. I mean, he wasn’t old enough to remember the War, but he had grown up surrounded by the wreckage and damaged lives it had left in its wake.

“This is a good place, Sarah. It’s good that we remember those boys”

“There’s a funny story about that, Dad. The Daily Telegraph had a hissy fit a few years ago, ‘why is there no memorial to the Battle of Britain’, and someone mentioned this place, and they harrumphed and said ‘yes, but there should be one in London!’. That’s when Croydon council told them there was one, at the original London airport–in Croydon”

“Does dim byd ar glawr, ac eithrio Llundain” (There is nothing at all in existence…except for London). I understood his bitterness there. Even the people of East Kent felt the capital assumed it was the only part of the country in which anything important or worthwhile happened. Living at the very end of the road West, it felt even worse. I moved the conversation on before he became even more bitter, and led him to the cliff edge, where we could see across to the solid lump of Cap Blanc Nez. At home, we could look out to sea, just like this, but not as far as a foreign land.

Elaine and her wife were with Tony, keeping an eye on Jim, who was in standard small-boy mode, running around with his arms out being an aeroplane and making dakka-dakka noises as he strafed Tony and the girls. The three old biddies were doing a biddy walk around the memorial, headscarves cinched tight and probably discussing knitting patterns and Delia’s latest cook book, and it was lovely how Alice was so naturally herself with her peers. As Dad and I stood near the drop, I remembered with a shiver what she had admitted to Queen Bitch about standing at the top of the next cliff to the East.

Dad must have felt my shudder. “Beth syn bod, cariad? What’s up?”

“It’s Alice, Dad. She admitted to me a little while ago that she had got so depressed that, well….she came up near here more than once and stood at the edge and, well…she says she was too much of a coward.”

“She doesn’t look like much of a coward to me. I said she was like you when I met her. You were no coward, not when you came in to us that night in a bloody dress and high heels”

“It was a suit, Dad. And I was a coward, I hid for all these years”

“Yes, love, but you stayed true to yourself. You never stepped back. I thought I had decided to tolerate your change, but I was still proud of you, proud of both my strong, clever daughters. Now I see you with Jim, and I see and hear your Mam in you, and it all clicks, it all fits together. This is who you were meant to be”

He started to laugh.

“What’s funny?”

“Well, when you told Jim to put the chocolate away, you didn’t just remind me of your Mam, you reminded me of MY Mam, and you were almost as scary!”

Back to the cars before everyone got cold, and I started in on preparations. The turkey had gone in before we left, so it was time for serious spud-peeling and sprout-crossing. I cook my stuffing separately, so we had a tray of chestnut as well as one of the traditional sage and onion, plus cranberry sauce, pigs in blankets and Yorkshire puddings. The oven was jammed. There weren’t enough rings, so I was using a three-stack steamer, and as the kitchen filled with steam and peelings I decided that someone else could take a turn the next year. I had the biddies with me, of course, the men and the happy couple instructed to clear off, play games and set the table. Two biddies were doing a dish wash relay, while the other did gravy and so on, but by this time they had blurred into generic older ladies. This was hard work.

Finally, though, it was done, plated, carved, served and demolished. This time, the boys were left to rinse things and load the dishwasher while we allowed the first course to settle. Pudding would follow later, when we regained the ability to move.

After the cheating pudding (Microwaved. Sue me) we settled down to the obligatory Bond film, and vegetated happily in our seats. Life was good.

And that was our Christmas Day. It didn’t end there, of course. We got through a sizeable quantity of liquid, and when the beer and wine had settled, Tony got out a malt, this time Highland Park, and we compared our presents.

If I say there was nothing special, that doesn’t mean it wasn’t special at all. What I mean is that the presents were low key and well chosen, things like toiletries, clothing, books and so on. It didn’t matter, as a family we understood the expense of the travel needed to get there, as well as that of catering for a houseful. My third most important present was having what was indeed becoming one family all together under my roof.. My second most important was on the third finger of my left hand.

The most important was lying in his little den asleep after a story, this time from Nana Sioned. I had bought him a set of the Harry Potter books, and he was now sleeping ‘just like Harry’. I realised I would have problems getting him back to his room when they all left. Just before Tony and I went off, I had a little chat with Alice in the kitchen as she put away some of the clean dishes from the washer.

“How goes it, Alice?”

She smiled, and gave me a little one-armed hug. “Couldn’t be better. They’re both treating me so well, it’s like it’s Christmas or something.”

I laughed. “What do you want to do on Boxing Day, love?”

“I thought it would be nice to show them the city. I can let us into the delivery area if the car parks are full, and if we avoid the big shops it shouldn’t be too crowded.”

“You sure you are OK being in such a busy area?”

She knew what I meant. The more time she spent with her new friend at the Marlowe, and with Enid, the easier and more natural her appearance became as just another mature lady. The fact that she was always surrounded by family also helped public perception, as I think there must have been some sort of hindbrain kneejerk reaction. Nah, can’t be a tranny, got a grandkid.

So, after another mammoth breakfast, which had me checking the size of my arse, we squeezed everybody into two cars and set off for work. Alice let us into the delivery area, the shop actually being closed for Christmas, We headed off over to Burgate for starters, and my parents started the round of ‘This is us at…’ photographs. Jim was in his new walking boots this time. Trainers for a cliff top walk, boots for a city centre. Kids.

There was some event going on at the cathedral, so we contented ourselves with a stroll in the grounds before heading back along Mercery to the High Street. It’s a sad fact about British towns and cities, but if you don’t raise your eyes you could be anywhere at all. The corporate image has taken over, and almost all shops now consist of that plate-glass identical company presentation, soulless and void of local flavour. Lift your eyes, though, and suddenly the old city is there, in the rooflines and old windows that don’t form part of the need for conformity.

Canterbury isn’t as bad as most, with a lot of listed historical buildings that the law protects from bastardisation, and the library is spectacular, as is the Cathedral Gate, but it has a few things that drag it down in the other direction, that of twee ‘heritage’

A mock ducking stool by the Weaver’s House, for one, and the ‘Canterbury Tales Visitor Attraction’. There are two words that chill my soul in these places. One is ‘Attraction’, and the other is ‘Experience’. Canterbury survives all that, though, with the resilience that 2,000 years of history bring to a place. I still wished I had that T-shirt, though.

We did the walk down to Westgate, then back up the other side to the bus station and I had to explain to Jim about the walls we were walking as we ambled round to Dane John, where there is an odd adventure playground made of wood. That killed an hour or so, as we more sedate individuals settled down onto some benches to await the return of the boys, despatched to buy coffee around the corner.

Jim was happy, the trio were happy, my parents were revelling in their new status as grandparents, Elaine and Siá¢n just seemed to be looking on fondly and smiling all the time, and Tony…

Tony oozed happiness and pride. I could almost hear him broadcasting to the world, ‘my boy, my woman, look on me you lower orders and weep with jealousy!’

Me, I was just content.

As we waited for the coffee run, my thoughts were derailed as someone sat down next to me.

“Hello, Sarah, before I put my foot in it, do you want to tell me what’s the thing with Alan over there?”

It was Andy.

CHAPTER 34
I keep saying it, but, oh shit.

“Hello Andy, happy Christmas to you too”

“Look, Sarah, if you want me to go away I will, I’m here with my brother and his family, they’re buying sales stuff out of sight of the kids, so I can easily move them along, tell them I want to show them another sight, even take them to the fucking Canterbury Tales fucking attraction, I just wanted to know what the hell is going on, and without dropping anyone in the shit, OK?”

I realised it was crunch time, and it would be best if she had some say in it. I looked over, and she was staring hard at us. It was clear she had recognised him. I gave her a nod, and, looking weary, she walked slowly over, Enid on one arm, and to my great pride and delight Mam on the other.

“Mam, Enid, this is Andy, who I work with. Andy, this is my mam, Sioned, Tony’s mother Enid, and Alice I believe you know”

He stood up. His hand went out to my mother, “Sioned”, a little peck on the cheek, then “Enid”, and the same. Then “Alice”. And the same.

“Look, I have family with me. Is that your little boy over there, Sar, with the two dark-haired ones? Those are my nephews. So, I can’t wander off and sort out things over a coffee, and if you can give me the thirty-second sound bite it would help. I am assuming this is something to do with that chat we had the other day, Sar.”

Alice spoke up, sounding very nervous. “What do you want to know, Andy? What it’s worth to keep quiet?”

“For….heck’s sake, no, ALICE, I just want to know how to deal with this. Look, I’ve been watching you for about twenty minutes, and you aren’t playing. You three are like some Women’s Institute outing, you look like swapping knitting patterns is the highlight of your week!

“Sorry, that was rude, and I try not to be. Look, Alice, you are a bloody good boss, well, you and Sarah here both, but you’ve looked after me well, even that little problem with Julie you sorted for me. Fair’s fair…but one thing I am is not stupid. This isn’t dress-up, is it? You’ve always been a bit of an old woman, but…”

“No Andy. First I was a little girl, then a young woman. Only now am I being allowed to be an old woman, so, no, this isn’t dress-up. This is me trying to work up the courage to come out and be myself for the first time in my life”

“Oh you poor fucker. Sorry, ladies, but how the hell have you coped, Alice?”

“Not very well, Andy. Not well at all, until Sarah here started to help me, then Enid, and now Sioned and all the family, even little Jim over there. “

“You stupid, stupid bugger, after what you did for me, and you didn’t think you could trust me? I could have ended up banged away with the nonces but for you! Don’t you ever, ever do something so fucking stupid again, you fuckwitted woman!”

I realised he was fighting tears, and Alice just stepped forward and held him. He was a Man, though, so the tears were wrestled back and sent to wherever they fester. Alice just kept her arms round him.

“It was years ago, Sar, just before you arrived. Sex on legs here arrives, and proceeds to treat the female staff as a lending library for shagging. Smooth as snake oil, he’s working his way through just about the lot, apart from Anne, of course. Suzy wasn’t there then. Anyway, there was one girl who he didn’t fancy”

“Alice, I didn’t fancy you either”

“Shut up, Andrew, let me tell this.”

I saw Tony and Dad behind him, and made a ‘wait’ signal. Alice continued, Andy settling into a more normal position with his arm round her waist.

“Julie, her name was. Funny little woman. A few personality problems, it seems, no, shut up, Andrew. She set her cap at him, and he ignored her”

“Perhaps I wouldn’t have, if she had ever taken a shower”

“Shush. She got rather upset as the others got theirs, as Andy kept telling everyone, and then one night she lifted his tie from the rest room and an hour after work turns up at the police station, clothes torn, tie in hand. Do I need to go on?”

I nodded, my jaw set so hard my cheeks ached. “No, not at all”

“So Andy gets dragged in that night, and gets the full attempted rapist treatment, and they are so close to charging him, and he rings me. And afterwards they let him go, and I sacked her the next day.”

Mam had listened to this, her face getting as hard as mine felt. “We know all about false witness. We know very well how nasty certain policemen can be. How did Alice help you?”

Her voice was very, very flat, very dangerous. Andy laughed, bitterly.

“I know my reputation, and not just as a lady’s man. Sarah knows how much I hate stock checks. Well, Alan–Alice–had got so fed up with me working my way through the payroll he had made me stay on that night for three hours unpaid overtime doing a stock take. While Julie said I was out ripping her clothing off, I was on my knees in the lock-up counting fucking suppositories!”

Alice smiled. “He still hasn’t changed there, has he? I got the call in time to go in with the security camera footage that showed how long he was there, and they had to let him go.”

“They still thought I did it, though. Then he sacked her the same day she came in all cocky, and she went ballistic. Called me a cunt, and him a shirtlifting arse….sorry, ladies, this is a bit of an odd situation for me, and I am normally much more polite, charm incarnate, in fact”

Oh, he was recovering. I waved Tony and Dad over before our coffees got too cold, and made the introductions and explanation. I looked Andrew in the eye.

“The short part of this story is that Alice, as she has hinted, is a transgender person, a woman. At some point she plans on stopping hiding, but we are trying to make it as smooth as possible before she does. You are the first to know, and that would not have been my choice, I’ll be frank. Now, where do we stand on this? I will not see Alice hurt”

Andy grinned, a little ruefully. “After what she did for me? I owe this person my life, and I don’t give a monkey’s what she chooses to call herself. But I still don’t fancy her”

That did it, and there was laughter, and there were tears, and Andy sat between Alice and me on the bench as we drank our coffee and watched the boys playing together. Andy looked rather wistful as the three chased each other round the maze, and if I hadn’t already realised there was more to him than a cock and a smile, that would have shown me.

He was jealous. Pure and simple. There was a hunger in his eyes as he watched Jim and his nephews, and it wasn’t predatory, it was a look of regret and sadness. He was just like me, he wanted desperately to be a parent, and for whatever reason he couldn’t be one. I looked sideways at him.

“Why not, Andy? I can’t have kids, just a women’s problem, but you could. Why not?”

He sighed. “I can’t really put t into words, Sarah, but I had so much fun when I was young, and I sort of got a reputation”

Sort of as far as head office.

“And, after Julie, the word got out that some stupid tart had got so jealous of me that she had tried to get me jailed, so the rumour mill went mad. I must be wondercock if she did that, so the crumpet was queuing round the block, and it was great, but the girls I wanted, you know, the ones to make babies and a home with, they heard the same rumours, and it was like I was a leper. So, I sort of settled into what I could get. You love your boy, don’t you?”

“More than I can tell, you, Andy”

“You are luckier than you know, love”

“I wouldn’t say that. I know exactly how lucky I am, every time I look at either of my men. What are you going to do about Alice, Andy?”

“That should be obvious, Sar. Whatever she needs me to do. I owe her. Now, a more important question, who are the two babes with you?”

Sigh. “My sister Elaine, and her wife Siá¢n”

He laughed, and suddenly he sounded much, much happier. “I really am shit out of luck, aren’t I?”

Two little boys came sprinting towards him, closely followed by Jim. “Iain, Kevin, this is Aunty Sarah, and Aunty Alice, who I work with. Now, who wants some chips?”

Jim looked wistful. “Mummy….”

I looked at Tony. “Burgers? Saves on left over turkey for two meals today”

“Twm, Sioned? You don’t mind? OK, Jim, burger and chips it is.”

Three little boys went “Yay!”

CHAPTER 35
We went round to the High Street again, not far from the shop, and found some seats in one of those plastic establishments that children love so much.

Andy rang his brother to let him know where they were, and then we settled down to some unhealthiness. Jim was obviously feeling ten feet tall as he led two of his grandparents through the menu, as it wasn’t the sort of place they knew. The three boys seemed to be bonding quickly in that odd way children have, especially when, like Jim, they have spent days in purely adult company. That left us freer to talk.

We had had a plan, and an assumed obstacle, and that had turned right round on day one. Now we had Andy, and this may sound stupid, but I was almost feeling the urge to go and find him some bloody Earth-mother type to get him fat and happy. Almost. I kept reminding myself that the only reason he had been saved from that vicious little cow was that he was a lazy bastard, one who still left the rest of us to pick up after him.

Now, her. As a woman, I get more than enough shit in this world. As a transsexual woman, I got even more. But…every single lying bitch like her fuels the idea that all women are liars, that every accusation of rape is a lie, and ‘no’ really means ’yes’ and….enough. Joe, and Julie, two sides of the same shitty, selfish coin. Perhaps they could be introduced….

No. Christmas, children, family, warmth and love, not that scab that I still picked at whenever I got angry. I looked across at three little boys comparing presents, and knew who the winners in this life are. Mam and Dad were picking at their burgers, trying to work out what was in them, and Elaine and Siá¢n were staring at the Monsoon shop across the way.

“Back in a minute, Sar”

“Yes, I’m sure of it, Siá¢n, but I know you. Should I leave the door on the latch tonight?”

She likes her floaty dresses, does our Siá¢n, Andy asked, quietly,

“Remember what I said about that scrip? Do I assume you’re filling it for Alice, then?”

Shit. “Do you really think I can answer that one, Andy? MYOB”

“OK, then. Now, with all due respect for patient confidence, and so on, do we have a plan for Alice? I owe her more than enough, you know that, so ask if you need anything”

“How do you see the staff taking it, Andy?”

“Well, the floor staff don’t matter, do they, so it’s just the five of us involved, before you say ‘no shit, Sherlock’ “

“And?”

“It’s Anne ,isn’t it? She’s got some big God stick up her arse”

“So you were listening. I thought you’d gone out”

“No, Sar, ever since you know who I try and keep an ear open when women get talking together”

“Just for your own safety, is it?”

“Well, no, not exactly” He grinned, and the familiar Andy was back. “Seriously, Sar, Suzy seems cool”

“So…just a wild thought, Andy, but do you know if Anne is seeing anyone at the moment?”

“To be honest, I don’t know. One thing I will say…oh ,sod it, here’s a lecture. I am a bloke. Perfume is for girlies. A little squirt of the sniffy stuff is fine, but when someone bathes in it , and leaves a scent trail behind them, it’s a bit much. Every so often, she’s like that. And that’s the same days she does the brickwork. You know, plasters on the warpaint”

“Yeah, that’s what we noticed at the carol service. All paint and perfume”

“You went to her carol service?”

“Yes, we took Alice. No, Andy, she was in drag”

There was a microsecond where he had to process that statement.

“OK. Look, Sarah, is she living with you?”

“About half the week”

“She looks…I dunno, content?”

“That’s Enid. She made a real impact on her”

“I can see.”

I took a plunge. “Andy, I have to go into hospital n a few weeks, for those problems I mentioned. I need someone to watch Alice’s back. As she gets more used to being herself, she gets careless. I need, she needs, someone to watch her back. Can you do that for me?”

“No.”

“What?”

“You heard me. I will do it for her, though”

“You teasing fucker”

Big grin, that almost let me see why the girls fell for him. “Seriously, Sar, I owe her more than I can ever pay back, so no biggy.”

He looked thoughtful. “Just thinking, Sarah, but who else knows? It’s just the old story about the relationship between the life of a secret and the number of people who know”

“Margaret knows”

“Margaret who?”

“Margaret Price-Thomas”

“Fucking hell, you are on first name terms with HER?”

“Yes, I am” I couldn’t resist it, “and she knows you too”

“Oh shit….what does she say about me?”

“That you are a shagger”

“Shit”

Another grin. “She knows me well, then”

“Andy, what are we going to do about you?”

“I really don’t know, love. Look, let’s just sort out our new girl first, OK?”

He sat for a few seconds in thought. “Right, two things. I think we need Suzy on side, and I think we need to see what is up Anne’s arse. You talk to Alice about Suze, and I will see what my contacts know about madam. There will be something they can find, I am sure”

“Thanks Andy. I mean that, she needs all the friends she can get. You have seen how much I have been researching this and all I can say is that this s the hardest part. You come out, and people make impulse decisions to hate you, tolerate you or accept you, and there is no going back. You can’t say ‘I was only joking’ if it turns to rat shit”

“She isn’t going to back down, is she?”

“Andy…do or die, that’s where she is”

“Oh, fuck, Sar, this is a shitty world, isn’t it?”

I looked across at the boys. “No, not always, Andy”

He caught my glance. “No, perhaps not”

Alice came over with Enid. “My ears are burning”

“So they should” I said, ”Andy was just commenting. ‘Those shoes, with that dress’ and suggesting a revamp to the make up”

“Alice, she is as usual talking out of her admittedly gorgeous arse. Now, we seem to have come to a sort of agreement. I watch your arse, in a manner of speaking, and you don’t do anything stupid or impulsive without talking to somebody. Sound like a deal?”

Alice hugged him, and kissed his cheek. “Alice, sweety, can I make a serious suggestion? The stubble ain’t working for me”

She looked crestfallen. Andy took her hand, and at that I really felt for him. “We need to do more than sort your clothes out, though Enid here has done a magic job. You need to start looking at things like permanent beard removal and perhaps waxing. Now, I might know someone who can help you there….”

I couldn’t help it. I started to laugh. “Would this person by any chance be someone you shag, Andy?”

“Might be! Look, this is where we need all we can get. We are all in this together, agreed?”

There was a general chorus of approval. I realised Tony had come up, leaving the boys to be boys together.

“Andy, you don’t match what this horrible pair have said about you. Do you fancy, at any time, coming round for a meal or just a drink? Jim would be glad to see you, especially if the boys come along.”

Bless you, my sweet honey bear.

CHAPTER 36
Elaine and Siá¢n had to work before New Year, and, in fact, my sister had drawn the short straw of THAT night shift, so it was off with the four of them on the 27th for the long drive back to West Wales.

I was quite emotional, as I saw off my parents for the very first time from my family’s home. Jim was unhappy, at losing four people who had been spoiling him rotten, as well as having to stop doing something he enjoyed.

He was back in his own bed. Dear Social Services, no we are not abusing this poor child, he really does enjoy sleeping on the floor in a cupboard. Honest.

I was also back at work, following the break, and dispensing analgesics for a variety of sprains, burns, twists and other symptoms of loss of balance whilst refreshed. Anne was covering the assistant’s slot as we whacked out the little paper bags as quickly as we could. She seemed quite subdued, which I put down to simple post-excess reaction. At lunchtime she was out of the door on her break as if she was on a mission, but that afternoon I distinctly heard her stomach growl. No lunch, then.

At Christmas, while we do close for some of the week, we are open every day except for Christmas and Boxing Days and January the first. We spread days off around the team, so that everyone gets a few days for family things. Anne did exactly the same thing on the 29th and 30th, and was clearly not going for food when she shot out of the door. New Year’s Eve, we had Alice, Suzy and Andy in, as Anne took her privilege day

The odd days between the Christmas bank holidays and New Year are a little hiccup on the work front. As people manage to get to their doctors just after the first set of days off, they rush to get their prescriptions filled before the next day off, and New Year’s Eve, if not already manic outside the store, gets frenetic inside it. I had, yet again, drawn the short straw as the duty pharmacist for that night, so my NYE would be at home watching people other than myself get merry. Then again, as I think I have hinted, I didn’t mind being with family on such a night. Andy had a quiet chat with me in the lock up that afternoon as we mixed and measured and counted pills into bottles.

“Sar, what are you all doing tonight?”

“Sitting at home watching silly music shows and staying sober. I’ve got the short straw tonight, remember?”

“Would you mind a visitor?”

“I thought you would be out clubbing”

“Not this year, Sar. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking over the last few days. I think a night in with friends makes more sense for once. I’ll try anything once, except incest and necrophilia”

Tony had offered him a drink. Sod it. “You know where we are?”

“Rough idea, just need the number”

“It’s 9”

“OK. Nibbles?”

“I am sure a small stop-up would appreciate them”

“See you tonight then”

Suzy wandered over to me later. “Was Andy asking to pop round for the evening?”

Alice was listening behind her. I looked her in the eye briefly, and then replied to Suzy.

“Yes, he was”

“Andy, sober, on New Year’s Eve, in a family setting…can I bring popcorn?”

I looked at Alice, and she nodded sharply, once, and slipped away.

“Yeah, OK, you know the street?”

“Yeah, number 9, you said?”

“Yup”

As we locked up later, I badgered Alice. “What are you up to?”

“Moving and shaking, my darling. Sometimes you just have to shake the tree”

She looked serious. “Stick by me tonight, please”

“Always. You know that”

She was silent on the drive home, and I left her to her thoughts. A lot of this was obviously as a response to Andy’s comments, but it was becoming more and more evident, at least to me, that Alice had decided she had had enough, and was starting to push harder at the closed door she saw in front of her. Well, her choice. That sounds callous, but that’s not so. I had used that phrase ‘do or die’, and I suspected that that nasty little choice still rankled in her soul; better hurt than dead.

I brought Tony (who had the night off, hooray) and Enid up to speed while Alice changed, and then at about seven, as Jim watched Harry Potter, we started laying out the ritual offerings, the bowls of nuts and crisps, cocktail sausages, dips, cheeses and biscuits, and an array of bottles and glasses. Tony waited for the end of the film.

“Right, sonny Jim, bath and pyjamas! Up, up, up!”

Off the two of them went, and I started the business of leaving small bowls in various corners. Jim was down fresh and fluffy in half an hour, and I had a little moment remembering another bathroom, another day. Tony caught my smile, and grinned as he came over for a kiss. The doorbell went at eight thirty, and there was Andy, neatly casual and carrying a wine box and a carrier bag of what turned out to be olives, celery, raw carrots and hummus, together with a bundle of baguettes.

“Where’s the kitchen, Sar? I’ll get the carrots prepared”

I left him peeling and slicing with Alice, and shortly afterwards Janet arrived, armed with more booze and a couple of home made quiches. She joined the others n the kitchen to get everything squared away, while Jim ignored everything except the empty bowls.

“When are you putting the Quality Street out, Mummy?”

Individually wrapped chocolates. Small boy. Dressing gown with pockets.

“When we have more people here, cariad”

“Mummy, when are you going to teach me that thing you speak? It would let me speak to Nana Sioned and Granddad!”

I was touched, but realised if he learnt the old language it would end our chances of not-for-small-ears chats, so I gave him Mummy answer Number 1.

“When you’re a bit older, love”

Suzy arrived at nine, looking a bit glamorous in heels and short dress. It turned out she was off clubbing on Castle Street afterwards. I wondered where she wanted to see in the actual New Year.

“In you come, booze to the left, nibbles to the right, bog first left at top of the stairs”

She entered the living room after I took her coat and headed for out ‘bar’ to drop her bottle.

“Hiya, Suze, looking hot hot hot!”

“Hiya, Andy, doesn’t work on me! Hiya Jim, Tony! Oh fucking hell……”

She stammered out an apology to Tony. Alice just smiled.

“Hi, Suzy, really glad you could come. I’m Alice”

Andy looked up from the settee. “You’re flycatching, girl”

Suzy shut her mouth, and stammered for a little while . Alice walked over and gave the unresisting Suzy a hug, then sat her down on the settee as Andy shuffled over to make room.

“I’m Jim’s adopted aunty. When I am at work I have to pretend to be a man”

There was a snort from my right, but I couldn’t tell whether it was Janet or Enid. Jim didn’t care, he was watching some shit Scottish dancing thing on the box. I looked again, and started to laugh, pointing at the screen. Janet got it first. After a couple of choked “Men in skirts!” we were loftily informed by a very young man that they were kilts, not skirts.

Alice and Andy, with Enid hovering, took Suzy to one side to explain out of earshot. She looked dazed. From a distance, I watched as her face went through the various changes I expected, and then into the one I had been hoping for, ending up in a crunching hug. I was touched when she gave the same hug to Andy, and a gentle kiss on the cheek. They came back over, as Jim watched the kilts bouncing, and all Alice said to me about it was “This makes sense now. Andy, you keep your depths stupidly well hidden”

Slowly more people arrived, colleagues of Tony, and we switched the box over to Jools Holland’s music show, which kept Jim happy, though that may have been the Quality Street’s arrival. The countdown started, and I filled the one glass of wine I could risk.

Now, you all know how it goes. There’s the ritual shout of HNY, then people grab people for their first snog of the year, there’s a bastardised version of Auld Lang Syne, and then it’s right back to the refreshments.

The doorbell went. First foot. I opened it, and was presented with the odd sight of a man standing on a footstool. It was Pat, holding a bottle and a piece of coal.

“Happy New Year to yez all, Sar! This is your tall, dark and handsome first foot. I couldn’t actually manage the first one, so I brought the stool. Now, where’s Tony? This is Jameson’s 12 year old, sherry casked!”

CHAPTER 37
I finally got the last of the crowd off to their respective homes at about two thirty. Jim had been allowed to stay up to see and hear the Big Ben Bongs, and he was already asleep as Tony carried him upstairs. No story that night.

There were a couple of surprises, in that Suzy had given up the idea of a clubbing session and stayed to chat with Alice, which soon turned into raucous banter, as a little group of women formed around the two. Janet stayed sober, and a little outside their orbit, but I noticed her getting deeper into conversation with Pat as the night went on.

Finally, finally they were gone, all apart from the snoring figure of Andy on the settee, a half-empty can of lager next to him on the coffee table. Trying to outdrink rugby men and Customs Officers, silly boy. I covered him with a blanket and laid him into a safe position, pulling his shoes off.

Janet and Pat were the last conscious ones to leave. They had ended up locked in discussion, and each time I passed I caught words like “Aquinas” and “predetermination”. That latter one made me realise how tightly she had controlled her drinking, and I understood a little of how ferociously she had ordered her life to keep her secret. I felt sorry for her, then. For all her success, she had walled herself off from the world, much as I had, but far more solidly, and for far longer. Perhaps the connection she had found with Pat matched that of a nun and a priest.

Pausing to leave a washing bowl by the settee, just in case, I made my way up to join my snoring partner. A typical man, he had ambled upstairs after the last departure, and undressed vertically so that all his clothes were piled on top of his shoes, as if from some bizarre ‘beaming up’ accident.

In the morning, Andy looked a bit green as we three girls cleared, wiped, brewed and cooked.. When Jim selected some Bon Scott-era AC/DC to listen to over breakfast, Andrew looked positively purgatorial. I thought it best to distract him.

“You spent a lot of time with Suze last night, Andy”

“Er, I like her a lot. Always have done”

“She’s single….”

He started to laugh. “She’s a good mate, Sar, but we’d strangle each other by the second day”

“So you wouldn’t?”

“Physically? If I didn’t know her, yes, I would, but I do know her, and I like her. I know she takes the piss out of me; what was that last one, something about Ann Summers? It’s just, well, remember what I said about incest? It would be like shagging my sister”

He paused, and remarkably for him, looked embarrassed. “She’s asked me out”

“Oh…”

“No, Sar, not like that. Not on a date, meal, want a coffee thing”

“Right, Andy. What has she asked you to?”

“Well, I don’t know what to do…it’s a badminton club”

Alice had heard this, and started to chuckle. “Hmm, tight white shorts, young maaaaaan!”

I slapped her wrist. “Behave!”

There was a real slide show of emotions across Andy’s face. His boss…his male boss…was making lewd remarks about him…but his boss was actually a woman…and was older…and….

I could almost read the scream in his mind. “Oh fuck, how the hell am I supposed to react to THIS?”

“Andy, just ignore her. Did Suzy explain why?”

“I think it was because I was pissed, and I was rambling on about Iain and Kevin, and Jim to be honest. I said how everywhere I went I was dragging a cartload of baggage behind me, and when we talked she made me realise that perhaps I could try somewhere other than licensed premises. And she said about her club”

That made sense. I could see how he had fallen into a nice little loop of gossip and drink. Clubs and bars were where you met girls, right? The girls talked to each other, and the loop became a noose. Same with the company. If Margaret was aware of his reputation, so was every other girl he might run into on a course. He needed to break out of his small world and go somewhere that would let him be himself. An idea came to me.

“Andy…do yourself a favour, OK?”

“Such as?”

“Don’t go there with the assumption there will be a woman for you, and if you do meet any, don’t chat them up”

“But I’m good at the chat, Sar!”

“What do you want, Andy? The knickers off some girl in a pub, or something better? Just try talking to them and seeing what happens rather than pulling them.”

“You mean like that priest and teacher last night?”

There was a thought. “Yes, Andy, just like Pat and Janet. Talk to the head, talk to the person”

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Alice drove him home after breakfast, as she had had little enough to be safe to drive, and I kept thinking back to Pat and Janet. I could see how they would click. They were both sharp as needles, equally fascinated by logical debate and wordplay, and from what little Janet had let out about her life since her vanishing trick she was rather prone to self-examination. She was also a head teacher of a school known locally for very strict rules on behaviour; not brutal, not petty, but serious emphasis on turning out good children who understood why their behaviour had to be controlled.

Pat was a moralist. That sermon he had written for Father Bill was quite uncompromising in its message. If you are good, you will do good things, and they will come naturally from being good. Ticking the boxes with actions perceived as ‘good’ would not change your mind, your heart. There was another side to him, as well, in that while he was wholeheartedly a believer, and a Catholic, he saw flaws in their doctrine that clearly pained him. They would bear watching.

Jim wanted a ride on his new bike, and so we walked out, the four of us, to the seafront cycle path, Jim and I pushing our bikes as Tony ambled arm-in-arm with his mother, and I was happy at that moment. It may sound callous, but just then, without the complications of other people’s lives, we were simply a family, out for a stroll on New Year’s Day, to watch the ships and the waves.

That brought so many feelings to the surface. New Year, new lives. Trite, I know, but it was still an amazing thought. After all the rubbish and damage of my life, I was suddenly centre stage and not as the person who everyone worried about. I was becoming the caregiver, it seemed, the one that others came to for help and support.

All except Enid, of course. She astonished me, the acceptance she had given me and Alice, and the energy she brought to the family. I realised that the only way I could repay her would be to follow her example as best I could. Be there for others, as she was for me and my boys.

And Alice, of course, but that gave me a little bit of insight. Enid had clearly been living entirely for her family since Tony senior had gone, no time or effort for herself. Alice had started out as another person to be tended, it seemed to me, but rather than a patient she had become a co-conspirator. Simply put, my mother-in-law had a friend, someone of her own age and with similar tastes. They were both blooming, both feeding off each other’s smiles and laughter. Both had clearly been lonely.

We got to the front via the underpass at Townwall Street, and then out past the Churchill hotel to the esplanade behind the shingle beach. I set Jim upon his bike, him to stay off the drops till he got used to the handling, so different from his little mountain bike, and as he wobbled off down the cycle way I rode slowly behind him. Enid and Tony went to the odd little shelter with the spike sticking out of it and settled down for some serious ship-naming by Tony.

We rode out three times to the junction with Townwall, and back past the ‘waiting miner’ statue to the shelter, Jim getting more fluent with each pedal stroke until on the last run he was trying to race me and laughing as he rode. I called for a break then.

“Jim, darling, you have worn me out! Time to see what Daddy has in his rucksack!”

Orange squash, flasks of tea, fresh sandwiches made by Enid, and leftovers of the savoury stuff from the night before. Plus some Quality Street. As we settled down to the sound of the pebbles hissing and clattering in the waves, Alice arrived with another flask, of hot chocolate.

It was a good day.

CHAPTER 38
Work ticked along almost as normal after the holidays, Alice fretting a little as she was forced to dress down each day.

On her days away from work she was always herself, even out in the streets of Dover, and I can only assume that it was a mixture of confidence and the presentational help given from Marlowe’s that allowed her to pass without comment. The only place she encountered any potential trouble was outside the school, but once again the presence of Jim seemed to break that one down. Other parents saw the delight with which he greeted her, and for his sake pulled their horns in. After a while, she was just the person who collected the fair-haired boy in their child’s school. Familiarity breeding invisibility rather than contempt.

Enid had gone home for a fortnight, but when my time came she would be back to, as she put it, see that Tony ate better, drank less and kept Jim tidy. I realised I needed to make one thing clearer, and picked up the phone.

“Hi Mam, sut wyt?”

“Not too bad, love. How is your little boy?”

“Missing you and Dad! The other day he asked to learn Welsh so he could talk to you both properly.”

Mam laughed, happily. “You are a very lucky woman, Sarah, to find such people, especially with your…situation. Now, who do you have to look after you when you come out of hospital? And who will be there to make sure that Jim has proper meals?”

“Well, Mam, Tony’s mother will be staying with us for a while, and then, of course, there is Alice”

“That makes good sense. They are both sensible ladies, and don’t let Tony misbehave”

My mother had just casually referred to a man in a dress with plastic tits as a ‘sensible lady’. Yet again, the depth of my love for my mother swamped me. How could she adapt so easily? I realised, of course, that she hadn’t done anything easily, that Elaine and I had slapped them in the face with our differences, but it changed nothing. I was proud of her.

“Mam, I was wondering if you or Dad wanted to come over. It would ease the workload on the other two, and Jim would love to see you.”

Mam started to laugh. “Your Dad and I already have our rail tickets. They are a lot cheaper when you buy them in advance. We bought them as soon as we knew the date of your operation”

“You knew I was going to ask you, then?”

“Do I know my own daughter? For a few years, I didn’t, and we both made big mistakes. Now, I know her, and I love her just as much.”

I teased her. “Not ‘more’, then?”

“No, my darling, because that would be impossible”

At work, Anne was still making her lunch break disappearances. Andy came to me one day.

“Where the hell is she going?”

“I have no idea at all, Andy. She still doesn’t seem to be eating while she’s out”

“Sar, why don’t you follow her? You can be reasonably inconspicuous on the bike, surely? You park in the same place.”

He thought for a while. “Look ,if we speak to Alice ,and I miss a break to cover for you, that lets you get there and out of sight before she gets out of the door. We have to find out what the fuck she’s up to.”

So we did. One day, in my full face helmet, I was waiting as she set off in her car, and I tucked in behind her as we set off up the Whitstable road as far as the Holy Sepulchre, where she parked. I rode past, and left the bike on a side street. When I walked back, the car was empty. The church was unlocked, so I stepped just inside.

Anne was kneeling, no cushion, on the stone slabs in front of the altar. As I watched, she lay down on the hard floor, crucifix style, but face down. I watched for ten minutes more, and she didn’t move, just lay there on the cold stone. I left as silently as I could and rode back to work. I really needed to speak to Pat.

Andy was waiting. “Well?”

“Church. Just church, some odd penance thing, what do you call it, mortification of the flesh”

“That explains a lot. She’ll be Opus Dei or some such thing”

“Opus Dei, Andy?”

“Bunch of loons, they’re the sort that whip themselves. BDSM for Christ sort of thing. I think there was a cabinet minister we had was one of them”

“Oh god yes, Ruth Kelly, the one who thought it was OK for paedos to work in schools!”

Andy frowned. “Yeah, that’s the one. No wonder Anne is so screwed up over people like Alice”

Two days later Pat came round, and with him, to no great surprise on my part, Janet. I ran through what I had seen. He frowned.

“You do know what Opus Dei are about, then? The sanctity of work?”

“All I know is that they like to whip themselves”

“Well, in simple terms they teach that ordinary people are able to become holy through their daily lives, their jobs and work. But they don’t seem to see ordinary life as something to be embraced, in my view. That is one of my objections to them”

Janet sniffed. “They use that old cliché about being in the world, but not of it, to justify condemning anything that doesn’t sit in a narrow little band of acceptability. People like us are to be ‘cured’ or, at the very least, to be kept away from decent folk. If Ruth Kelly had any say any more, and if she knew, I would be sacked tomorrow. At the same time, she let somebody who tried to rape a child keep teaching, probably because he was a man, saying that he was ‘teaching to good effect’ “

Pat frowned. “It isn’t as simple as that, Janet. They try and walk a balance between using their daily life as a means of worship while not letting the world distract them from their duty to God.”

“Right, Pat, so why do you detest them so much?”

“Ah, shite, Janet, you never let me talk crap for long, do you?”

I sat back and watched the two of them as they verbally slapped each other, and I realised I was watching something like a married couple. Both of them held strong views, and expressed them forcefully, but there was no rancour. In fact, as I paid more attention, I realised that they actually held the same views, but only one of them felt free to let rip.

It was like Pat’s comments about doctrine. There were things he said, such as his remark about divorce, that showed a deep conviction. There were others, where he commented about official policy, where it was clear that he was simply trotting out what he was required to say. One of his better moments came when he put a finger to Janet’s lips to slow her down.

“Look, let me see if I can sum it up. They would hate me saying so, but there is almost an Albigensian whiff about Opus Dei, in their division of the world into real and imaginary, or worldly and spiritual. The old perfecti would end their lives by stopping eating, so that they were no longer polluted by the unholiness of worldly things”

I was lost at this point. “Pat, can you please put this into terms the rest of us can follow?”

“Oh, bugger it, I’ve just got too used to talking to this one here. Right….starting at the beginning, and you can’t go any further back, God made the world. There are two ways you can look at that. Either this life is something to be got through so you can get straight up to union with God in your second and eternal life, or it is a gift from Him to be enjoyed and made the best of. That means taking delight in God’s creation, loving and being loved, magnifying your soul so that you can better magnify the Lord, as the psalm says.

“Now, it will not surprise you when I say that I follow the second path, but there is a third. That is where you see the world not as a gift from Him, but as an obstacle course keeping you from Salvation. The more you suffer, the holier you can become, which is bollocks, of course. That is also how Opus Dei and similar people view life. They see ‘sin’ as harming God, which is impossible. Sin harms other people, or the sinner, because nobody can harm God, that should be a fucking no-brainer. Got any more tea?”

I was slowly getting to grips with that. While I have no religion at all beyond what my Chapel upbringing had left in me, I realised that it was how Anne was thinking that mattered, which meant we had to get to grips with at least part of her theology. Pat continued.

“See, that’s where Kelly was coming from with that nonce. He was redeeming himself through honest work, so that was good, so his assault on that young girl, and the three other ones, could be written off. Sanctity through work and daily life.”

I snapped a bit at that. “What about the girls, then?”

“Ach, spawn of the Devil, daughters of Eve, what can you expect from them? They were probably wearing short skirts or something”

“They were children!”

“He’s cunning, is the Adversary..”

I spotted the twinkle just in time. Pat continued.

“We have a handle on her, then. If she is OD, then she’s celibate and into a bit of masochism. That’s her way of showing her faith….oh.”

“What?”

“What if she isn’t celibate?”

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ruth_Kelly

CHAPTER 39
Alice had sat quietly through the discussion up to then. She drew in a long breath.

“That settles it, then. If she is off on that little journey, there is nothing we can do that will change her mind. In which case, I will start thinking about a day to come out.

I thought my life was stuck in pretence, and what you have done for me has changed all that. She is one person, and if I can’t handle one woman I shouldn’t even think about a transition.”

I nodded. She was right, and her courage warmed me. “Just a couple of things, then. Firstly, you speak to your therapist. Secondly, you let all of us know in advance, that’s us, Andy, Suzy, whoever. Thirdly-“

Janet interrupted. “A couple means ‘two’, not three!”

Pat laughed. “I just KNEW she would do that. Nobody expects the Welsh Inquisition”

When I stopped laughing and calling them both bastards, I continued.

“In just over a week I am going to hospital. Please, Alice, please wait until I am well enough again to be there for you, just like you have been for us. Agreed?”

She smiled. “We have one big question left. Which charity is getting all my old clothes? I am NOT leaving anything to cats”

Later that week I sat down with Tony. Alice was at her own home that night, so I had been able to run things past Tony while Jim watched some cartoon or other. Tony had surprised me.

“About bloody time she got on with it. She’s going to have a fight with people at some point, we all knew that, and she–you---can’t expect everyone to be on side. If Anne doesn’t like it, she can fuck off and work somewhere else. Look, love, you are such a soft touch, you care about people so much. They have to take their own lumps sometimes, fight their own battles. You’ve come at this from all angles, you’ve done so well with Suzy and Andy, let’s just face facts and hold her handbag when she has the fight”

Outvoted. We joined Jim, and I started to explain about hospital.

“I am going to be in bed for a while, darling, and that is why we have waited before giving you your last Christmas present. Once I am healing I will need to do some gentle exercise. I won’t be able to ride for a while, so it will be walking. What do you think might make walking more fun?”

His eyes widened, and in a very small voice he said “A puppy?”

“No, a hippopotamus. We are going to buy a hippopotamus to take for walks and he is going to sleep in the bath”

“Can I choose the puppy, then, silly Mummy?”

Kids are just too sharp these days. We agreed that Tony would start looking around for decent pups, and the two of them went off into a discussion of breeds based on a chart in one of Jim’s books. It’s a man thing.

A few days later, as expected, the bell went at the door. Jim was doing some homework at the big table, and actually looked a little put out when I sent him to answer it. I heard his squeal a moment later, and he came running happily back into the room followed by my parents. In true little boy style, they were receiving his news before their coats were off or even the door shut. Dad just picked him straight up.

“Shush, Jim! We have got ages to talk, so why don’t you see if you can fill that kettle for Bamps and Nana”

“Bamps?”

“You said you wanted to learn some Welsh, Jim, and Bamps is what we say in Wales for granddad. “

Off he ran, murmuring ‘bamps’ to himself as if to test it. I heard the tap run. Mam smiled and hugged me.

“You’ll have him cooking, soon, Sar”

She caught something in my face. “Don’t be silly, some of the best cooks are men.”

She paused. “No…you don’t think he’s like you were, do you?”

I laughed out loud at that. “No, Mam, trust me, he is all boy! We’re off to get him a puppy when I get out”

“Then what was it you twitched at just then?”

“It’s just one of my sore points, Mam. I can’t have any of my own, can I?”

Dad leant forward and took my hand. “Think about us, my love. We had a son. We lost him. We found a daughter instead, and so really we never lost anything. You had nothing, but then you gained a son. As I see it, you’re ahead of us on points there”

Mam smiled. “He’s happy as well, now, cause he gets a little boy to watch grow up. He missed that with you. No, that was no complaint. The Lord gives us what we have, we just make the best of it we can. You are the best we could ever wish for, so, no regrets, hey? Soon you will be complete, and we shall celebrate that with you”

“Do you miss that other little boy, Dad?”

“Every day, love, but he was never really there, was he? We have you now, and losing that would be too painful for words. Two pretty daughters, I said, but I was wrong. It’s two strong, generous, caring, beautiful daughters we have.”

I hugged him. “You remember that night well”

“Oh yes, and I remember how stupid I was about it at first. And every time I see you now I am proud that I could see sense back then. Flesh of my flesh, you are, but that makes me no more of a parent than you are. Your little man out there will tell you who you are”

“Mummy, kettle’s boiling”

As if on cue. Dad must have seen him at the door.

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And then it was time, and I had seriously cold feet. Yes, I wanted it. Yes. I really, really needed it. Yes, I was shitting myself at the thought of the pain to come (no illusions there at all). Yes, I was terrified at the thought of something going badly wrong and Jim being left without a mother for the second time.

My priorities had changed so much since I moved in with Tony. I think back to that first time holding Jim’s hand, at the rugby pitch that day, and it is so clear to me what I was born to be. I am a mother, nothing more, because there can be nothing more, no higher calling. Even without that physical connection, he is still mine to love and protect and help to become the best he can be. Let me get through this, and back to him, was all I asked or wanted.

I smiled at that thought. The seriously filthy sex with Tony would still be nice, though. Oh yes indeed.

He kissed me passionately as he left me at the hospital, heading off to the hotel room he had booked for the duration. He told me he was really, really worried.

“What with your parents, and my mother, and Alice, he is going to be SO spoilt”

I slapped him on principle, and then I was on my own.

That was the bad time. I knew I would be taken in a few hours, doped on pre-meds till I was giggling, then injected or gassed with a variety of interesting pharmaceutical products as they took a sharp knife to my soft parts. I resolved to ask the anaesthetist what he was using, just to let him know I was in the trade, so he better get it right.

That idea went West rather quickly. I tried to ask the girl who gave me the pre-med, and she simply said “Now, that would be telling” and by the time I got to theatre I was giggling. I told the man with the bottles and gas that I was going to have seriously filthy sex with Tony and he might have smiled, but he had a mask on, and I couldn’t see, and he asked me to count backwards from ten, so I told him I would do it in the proper language, and deg, naw, hwyth, saith, chwech

Tony was by my side and it fucking cunting hurt.

“Oh fuck, love, it hurts, I knew it would hurt, but this is taking the piss”

Water. Sips. The taste of vomit and the feel of a hangover. The pain down there. Tony’s hand in mine.

Anyone reading this far will probably have some idea of the process, so I am not going to spell it out. Inspection by a surgeon and a bunch of students, as if I was a fucking training aid. Dilation instructions. Catheter. Tips on cleaning myself down there. Patronising talks about which way to fucking wipe my arse.

Then a little fair-haired man behind a bunch of flowers more than half his size and my parents behind him, and a hand-painted card with every letter just so. ‘My mum’

I had to explain that I wasn’t sad, really I wasn’t, and that mummies cried when they were really happy because they were girls and girls were different to boys. As I did so, I knew that whatever last little piece of flesh that had hampered me was in a hospital incinerator.

My mother cried as well. It’s what mummies do.

Daddies too, it seems.

CHAPTER 40
I had a stream of visitors over the next few days, including Alice-in-drag, and Pat and Janet. That got me thinking, as it seemed to me that I had never seen one without the other since New Year except at school.

No, I wasn’t thinking they were doing the dirty, but I got the impression that a couple of souls may just have clicked. Both were fiercely moralistic, and ferociously intelligent. By that I don’t mean full of facts and certificates, I mean driven to pick things apart, argue philosophy, really try and get to the roots of a concept. When they got talking, I got lost.

Perhaps that was it. She had hidden away for so many years, and only now had she found someone who could talk to her, challenge her, at her own level. I asked them directly, and Pat looked almost embarrassed.

“You are just about right there, girl. My conversations are usually a bit limited, what with the typical parishioner on the one hand, wanting to know if fancying their daughter’s friends is taking them to hell, and the other lads who have nothing beyond what the Pope said and Football. If I’m really lucky, it’s rugby, and if not it’s golf.”

I laughed a little, till it hurt, at a mental picture of a man in a cassock driving off the tee, remembering an old joke. Pat read my mind.

“Fuck it, missed! That old one?”

I just nodded. Janet smiled. “He has read so much, and not just read it, thought about it. I have never been able to have a proper chat about things like Spinoza, Kant, Aquinas, till now”

“Ach, you still can’t, you haven’t read St Thomas in the original, so you miss some of the subtlety”

“And ach back to you, you old bugger, I give you Voltaire, Kant and Nietzche, which I HAVE read in their originals, unlike you!”

“Yes, well Nietzche was a fucking arsehole, so he’s better filtered”

After a couple of minutes they remembered I was in the bed. Janet just smiled.

“See what I mean? I have found a friend who challenges me, for the first time in decades, and it would be just my luck he’s a bloke in a dress. And, Pat, you will make no nasty cutting remarks about Sarah and me, OK?”

“You told him, Janet?”

“I played the old confessional trick on him, but yes, I told him. The lot”

Pat grunted. “You realise, Janet, that as neither one of my communicants, nor a Catholic, nor even, as far as I can see, a Christian, I may not be bound by that sacrament.”

“But as a friend…?”

“Ach, of course. That’s another sacrament in itself.”

There was real affection between them, I saw, not the old-married-couple double act that was Alice and Enid, or the deep symbiotic love that I saw between Steve and Arris, or Elaine and Siá¢n, but two people who obviously cared deeply for each other. They didn’t know how to express it safely though, dancing around issues and emotions that they thought might frighten the other away. Gently, Sarah, gently; leave them to waltz on their own.

Tony drove me home once the rather snooty surgeon and his mates were finished. I was getting ready to smack him by then, as he seemed to have forgotten that the peculiar fleshy lumps hanging off his work were a woman and not a display cabinet for how good he was. Twat. He was good, though, I will give him that.

Jim had taken the day off school and decorated the house with ‘welcome home’ posters, and when I got in he was bursting to tell me something. Tony had found the puppy he wanted, a dog-sized, dog-shaped breed, at a local vet. One of their customers, not a puppy farmer, had a litter that needed good homes, and the vet could vouch for them. They were Border collies, an ancient breed from Northumberland. Fiercely intelligent, adaptable, tractable, and loyal. A bit lively for an invalid, but, hey, Jim’s enthusiasm was wonderful.

I healed, and I did the nasty thing with the sex toys when Jim was out, and I walked as much as I could rather than sit on my arse and risk thrombosis. Alice was filling my analgesia scrip, and each day it was getting a little easier. And dressing….

Finally, finally I could stand before a mirror naked and not want to cover up. I mean, I still did want to cover up a bit, as my tits were getting a bit saggy, but you know what I mean. My mother came in behind me as I stood there naked one morning, and simply kissed my cheek before handing me my dressing gown.

“You are more like your Aunty Gwen than me, love, but definitely a Lloyd woman. Breakfast, now, vanity later”

A few days later, Tony turned up with a crate, and in it was a bundle of fur that I fell in love with on sight. The extension was already laid out with a dog bed and a LOT of newspaper, a collar and lead chosen by Jim hanging on the wall, and a cupboard full of puppy food. Tony, being a man, had bought several books on dogs, training, care, spiritual development for all I knew, and Jim had already hung up one of those picture calendars in the kitchen, the ones devoted to a single breed.

Our puppy was black and white, of course, and Jim had already chosen his name, after the horse in National Velvet: Pie. He was trying to climb out, climb on to us, tongue licking away, clearly ecstatic to be with people. Tony let him out into the back garden, where he ran about widdling with excitement.

“He’s had all of his shots and things, Sar, so Jim can get straight to training him.

Fat little puppy-bum, waddling around as he tried to sniff absolutely everything he could. Oh yes, I was in love, three times over. Jim exploded when Mam brought him from school, and I had to warn him about getting Pie overexcited, a lesson Jim finally learned when he picked Pie up to tickle him, and he pissed all down his school shirt.

Then, suddenly, it was all over for my little holiday. Mam and Dad were heading back, as was Enid, and I was returning to work, my promise to Margaret all those years ago finally kept. Not as I had imagined it, though; she had sent me a note restoring my holiday entitlement and pointing out the company policy on unlimited leave of absence for such surgery. What a woman.

Alice ran me in rather than my bouncing my new fanny on and off a bike saddle, and I was mobbed by the two girls. It always felt odd, as Anne was always so sweet and open, and yet I knew there were things behind her eyes that revolted me. Andy waited patiently, and then gave me his own hug.

“Welcome back. I hope that has sorted the problems out, it’s not the same when you are away”

If you only knew how my problems were indeed sorted. Never mind, we had Alice’s life to bring on now.

That first day was an easy one, so many of the post-holiday blues and injuries sorted or forgotten, and we were back to the winter routine of cold cures, cough linctus and anti-seasickness pills for the daytrippers from France. Thankfully, there were no coaches full of schoolkids, or “shoplifter specials” as they are called in Canterbury. Lunchtime came, and Anne was off out for her mortification session, and I wondered how she was actually going to react when Alice joined her at work. Or church.

I was musing on this, not really with it as I got a few aches from my new bits, when I realised I had a customer n front of me.

“Hello, how can I help?”

“Is Andy Watson about?”

She was about 35, 5’4”, pleasantly plump, with a real mass of dark curls , and that odd pale freckled complexion that you sometimes find on dark-haired Irish people. Glasses in front of hazel eyes, no make up visible, in a fleece and jeans and, as I noticed later, training shoes. Not even remotely Andy’s type. Suzy passed at that point.

“Hiya, Bev! Looking for himself?”

“Hi, Suze, yeah, I was going to take him to look for something better than that horrible 4.3”

I must have made my puzzled face, because Bev just laughed. “You must be Sarah, Andy told me about you. A Carlton 4.3 is a badminton racquet. They are usually painted a horrible greeny-blue, they weigh a ton, and all the sports centres hire them out because they are unbreakable, but they weigh a ton. So, we’re going to see if we can get him a better one. Hiya Andy!”

He had come out of the dispensing room behind me.

“Sarah, Bev, Bev, Sar. Do you mind if I slip out for a bit? “

“Bev’s told me what you are up to. She also told me that you have told her about me. What exactly have you told her?”

“Only that you are a very nice boss who won’t mind if I take a bit of time off to expand my social skills! Tell you what, I’ll get some coffees in on the way back. What do people want?”

We gave him our orders, and as the two of them hit the crowded pavement I saw her link arms with him. Suzy caught my gaze.

“When you get him away from the bars, and the bimbos, and he stops trying to be anything more than just the nice bloke he is inside, he’s a revelation. Bev likes him, but he’s terrified she’ll think he just wants a shag, so no jokes, OK, Sar? Let him do this one on his own”

He was back half an hour later, with a new racquet and a cardboard carrier full of coffees. I let Bev into our rest room, and she gave me the new dirt on him, which included rather a lot of technical stuff about badminton that went straight past me. As far as I could work out, Andy was fit, and fast, and strong, but lacking n subtlety, so in that sense there were no surprises. There were two surprises, though. Bev was a solicitor by profession, which didn’t fit with the dress sense.

“I only get the slapper stuff out for court and that, Sar, I can’t be bothered with all that palaver just for an ordinary office day.”

I remembered my first day at work, in those heels, and started to laugh. I explained the joke, and the others joined me. Andy smiled.

“Trust me, Bev, when Sarah decides to get glammed up she is quite something. Her other half would carry a stick to beat blokes off with, but I suspect he wouldn’t actually need one, big ox that he is”

The second surprise was that Suzy and Andy had told her about Alice.

CHAPTER 41
I looked at the two culprits. “Does Alice know?”

Andy actually blushed. “No. It was one of those things that come out when you don’t mean it to. I just got so used to her, and mentioned her as my boss, and Bev is a bit sharp like that”

“Well, then, I suggest we get her in to see what she actually thinks of this little slip”

Suzy went to collect her. I could hear a muttering outside the door, and then Alice entered the rest room. Bev’s gaze locked onto her, and it was clear she was looking for any signs of the woman. After a few seconds, she just breathed “Yes…..”

Alice looked a little nervous at that. “Yes, what, exactly?”

“Yes, I can see you in there. You hide it well, but you are still there”

I remembered Steph, the redhead. Knowing what I knew, I could see the man in her, but she was all woman. Bev was seeing the reverse, Alice as she really was behind the façade of Alan. Bev drew another long breath.

“Yes, you are definitely not a man in there. Andy tells me you have full support from your employers, so there is nothing I can offer professionally, but I am here to help if you need anything. Andy, as you were the one whose mouth ran away with itself, I think you owe us more coffees”

“The last round was all the cash I had, Bev!”

“Here’s a tenner, scoot. Girl talk, Andy, take your time”

He took the rather direct hint, and off he did indeed scoot. Bev looked us all over.

“You have a very interesting group dynamic here, and from what Suzy tells me your problem is at lunch just now. Alice, do you have any date set for your grand unveiling?”

She got rather shifty, then, and after a sidelong glance looked away from me.

“Actually, a week today”

Three of us jerked upright. Alice sat up straight, and with a little colour to her cheeks stared at us all in turn.

“Enough is enough. The more I watch that woman, the weirder she gets. The longer I wait for her to be brought onside, the less of my life, my real life, I get to live. So you know what? Fuck her. I mean, she might not even go off as we fear, she might just bottle it up and take it out on her knees later”

I put my hardest Mum-voice on. “And you were planning on telling me---us---when exactly?”

“I was going to mention it on the way home tonight”

“Bollocks you were. What was it, just turn up dressed and ride the shock wave? Have you spoken to Margaret??

She laughed, a little nervously. “Who’s the manager here?”

“Both of us. Who’s the part-timer here?”

No answer to Mum-logic. I deal with a small boy daily, and adults are easy after that.

“Alice, another question: have you told Enid?”

Her face told me the answer. “Call her. Now. After all she has done for you, she will be cut to the quick if you don’t. Phone! Both of them!”

She left the room, and I caught Bev looking at me. “Andy was right, you are one scary lady!”

I sighed. “A matter of concern, of love for the poor girl. She was good to me when I came over here, she has always been good to me, and my son loves her, so what else would I do?”

I looked back at her in the same way. “And let’s hear what you have to say, then. Andy?”

“Andy. Well. Andy is a nice bloke, once you get past the flash. He talks a phenomenal amount of crap, but behind that he is actually quite solicitous, and don’t even think about making that a joke.

“I noticed that the first time I met him, when he offered out a spare sweat towel”

I laughed. “Andy, woman in distress, it fits”

“No ,not at all. It was to one of the guys. Andy had overdone the stuff he’d brought the first time, obviously on Suzy’s advice”

Sniff.

“And one of the guys had forgotten a hand towel, so Andy just threw him one of his. There was no calculation in it. That sounds really insignificant, doesn’t it?”

I could see where she was coming from, though. “Bev, he does talk a lot of bollocks though, doesn’t he?”

“Signal to noise, Sarah, signal to noise. Once you filter out the cock-waving stuff, he talks a lot of sense, and he cares”

I could see Suzy weighing this up, and no disagreement in her eyes. I remembered his time with Iain and Kevin, and his first comments when we started dropping the hints. Bev continued.

“He’s incredibly shy, Sarah The impression I get is that he doesn’t think he can sustain anything, so he stays in the shallow end all the time”

“And you like him?”

“I do, I think there is a sweet little boy hiding there waiting to grow up. Real potential”

She suddenly grinned, happily. “And when he bends forwards in those shorts, it is really, really knickerwetting”

That broke the mood. Suzy was looking smug, now, a real “told you so” to her smile.

Andy knocked, then came into the room. I am sure he was totally in the dark when three women dissolved into giggles. But he had coffee.

I called him over. “Andy, Alice has just dropped a biggy. She’s planning on coming out next week. Any ideas?”

He thought for a minute, sipping his coffee. “Ringers. Stealth customers that know her. Enid, Janet, perhaps….yes, Pat! Imagine Anne seeing a priest being served by her and treating it as perfectly normal. I could ring my brother as well, get the kids in after school”

I looked at him with as much respect as I could make obvious. “Bev was wrong about you, you know”

He actually looked worried at that point, and I suspected a little falling was being done. “What have you been saying about me, Bev?”

“Just that your shorts aren’t tight enough”

I called it to an end. “Customers, and Anne will be back from her crypt soon. Bev, here’s my number. Lovely to meet you, and if you cam help with the stealth next week, it would be lovely. Mr Watson, a word if you please…”

The others cleared off, and I sat with Andy for a minute, recounting what Alice had said. “So, what do you think about her coming out next week?”

“What she says is dead right. She needs to get out, get her life moving forward before she gets too old to enjoy it”

“And what about you? What about this dark lady of yours?”

There was pleading in his eyes. “Please, Sarah, no piss taking there. I like her a lot, and I am terrified she will run a mile if I fuck up”

“And she isn’t nervous too? Suzy was right, it seems. Look, Andy, a word of advice. Be yourself. Not the twat we work with, Mr Trousers in the wine bar, but that bloke I met by Dane John with two little boys. Keep thinking about Iain and Kevin, and take your time.”

He hugged me. ”Alice first, though, Sarah”

He really is dense. That one remark showed how far he was moving on already.

CHAPTER 42
Alice drove us home, and I had to remember to be careful going in the front door, as a black and white furball mugged me, whimpering and yelping with excitement.

Tony was making tea while Jim did some homework, in between rolling Pie onto his back and tickling his belly. A number of chewy and squeaky toys littered the floor, which I discovered by the simple process of standing on them.

“Tone, I need a quiet word”

He turned down the pasta he was cooking and followed me into the hall, as Alice popped upstairs to change.

“She’s made a decision. Monday she stops hiding. Her attitude is basically ‘fuck it’, so we need some back up”

“Conveniently passing strangers? I’m sure we can manage something”

“So far I’ve got Janet and Pat lined up, it looks like Andy can get his brother and family to play, and if you can get your Mum to drop down that would be another. And there’s Andy’s girlfriend, of course”

I didn’t have to wait long. “Oh? That sounds rather better than normal, from the way you smiled. Do tell…”

I led him through that morning’s fun and games. He frowned a little. “What’s she like?”

“Well, you know Andy’s usual type? Skinny, arse like an afterthought, all wiggle and strut and tit? Microskirt and cheesewire sandals? Well, for starters, this was fleece, jeans and trainers, and actual curves. She’s what a fashion magazine would call obese, you know, a real woman.

“Tone, when she walks, her hips don’t twitch, they roll. Absolutely comfortable in her body, I hate her!”

He laughed. “So you do like her, then?”

I grinned back. “She seems to like Andy, and Suzy knows her, and---hang on, you don’t think that sneaky cow set the two of them up, so you? Like bloody Arris and us?”

He stepped forward, and kissed me, rather nicely. “If her meddling is half as successful as Arris’, then I say let her carry on”

He went to pull away, so I pulled him back, as I hadn’t finished. “You know, I will be healed soon….”

“Talk to me like that and Jim will have to go without tea, you naughty, naughty woman”

“Naughty, but yours, my love”

I made sure I got another kiss before I let him go. He looked back at me as he went.

“Do you really know how much we both love you? Just don’t judge it by the quality of my cooking!”

At the kitchen door, he stopped again. “I think I would like to set a date, love”

I was crying as I hit our bedroom to change. No, he hadn’t upset me, quite the reverse, it was just the years we had wasted, years we could have made ours. Just as I was about to settle down to another session of ‘Joe that bastard’ there was a yapping from downstairs.

No Joe, no separation. No separation, no Jim. Don’t get me wrong, I still hated that shit, but I realised that this particular silver lining was beyond price. That was Tony’s message, how much they both loved me. My life was wonderful, Andy’s was starting, it seemed, even Pat and Janet seemed to be making their own little world together. Time for Alice to get some.

Fuck it. I left my work clothes on, and grabbed some walking shoes, calling down the stairs.

“Tone, how long will tea take?”

“Five minutes”

“Family dog walk to Connaught Park after?”

“Yay!” from Jim. So we did, after tea, Alice as herself, Jim in a new winter jacket and Pie as a fluffy tractor trying to pull his boy along the footpath. He sniffed everything, some of which sniffed back, and I made Jim do the plastic bag routine when the inevitable happened. This was what I had dreamt of as a young unboy, this was living.

Pie was in his bed and snoring almost as soon as we got back. Jim was lying on the floor next to him. “Mum, Dad, thank you for Pie”

I had noticed that, the change. ‘Mum, Dad’, our boy was growing.

I spent the rest of the week in a rush. Each evening, there would be a Pie walk, every lunch time a council of war. As the weekend approached, I gathered people round for timing their ‘random’ visits, and then Enid was at the door.

“Hi Jim, is that Pie?”

“No, Nana, it’s a hippopotamus! He sleeps in the bath!”

“Well, let him come and say hello”

Puppies are like that. Every new person is a wonder and a delight that they have to lick and greet, and try to climb on, little back legs scrabbling for grip as they are picked up, tongue out and tasting. Eventually, Enid was sat in an armchair with tea in hand and black and white fluff upside down in her lap. She fixed Alice with a mock glare.

“Well? Explain!”

“Enid, it’s time. I mean, it’s the right time, and I mean time is ticking on, and I just need to have what I can of this life”

“No second thoughts, my dear?”

“Of course I have, loads, but I would be mad if I didn’t have them. Do it, get it out, move on.”

I felt a twinge from down there, and I had to ask myself the obvious question How far did she need to go to be happy? Did she want what I had just been given? Oh, don’t be so stupid, of course she would want it, but would she need it? Would she need that to be happy?

Stick to the moment, the immediate.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I rode in with Alice half an hour early that day. She had acquired a uniform, and Enid had spent some time getting her just so. We opened up the safe room and offices, and Alice hung back as Sales staff started to filter in. Two girls were putting their cash trays into their tills as she brought me out a coffee. One nudged the other.

“Kinnell, Chelse, look!”

“So he’s like a tranny then. Kewl! Whatchoo like doin’ wiv Wayne tomorrer?”

I walked across. “Chelsey, Aleishya, the word is ‘transsexual’. She is now Ms Hill, Any problems with that? “

“Na, Ms Powell, iss like tha’ Nadja from Big Bruvver, innit, bu’ is she still Alan?”

“Alice.”

“Kewl.”

Back to Wayne. I started to walk off, and whichever misspelled name it was called after me. “’Ere, you ‘avin’ a hen night?”

I grinned. They actually missed nothing, those girls. “Might be. I’ll, like, let you know. Like.”

Andy was in next, quickly followed by Suzy. Andy whispered to me “Bev’s outside, just needs the word whenever you want her”

“She’s come in with you? First thing in the morning, Mr Watson?”

I realised Suzy was standing behind me. I kept pushing. “Something you want to tell us, Andrew?”

Dear gods he was blushing. “Sarah, Suzy, please, don’t fuck this up for me!”

I hugged him. Suzy joined me, and I murmured “Just be happy, mate”

Anne breezed in, and once more she had Passchendaele quality perfume on. I waved, “Morning, Anne!”

“Morning Sarah, Andy, Suze, Jesus Mary and fucking Joseph!”

Alice smiled. “Coffee, Anne?”

CHAPTER 43
“What the hell is this?”

I decided to push her delirium a bit more. Just keep it as normal as possible, and leave her isolated. “It’s coffee, Anne. You drink it. You know how I take mine, Alice, that would be lovely”

Suzy and Andy chimed in, each with their request and a “Thanks, Alice”

Anne was opening and shutting her mouth as her perfume backhanded my nostrils.

“You know what I mean, why is he dressed like that?”

“For the same reason we all are, Anne, it’s company uniform. What else should she wear?”

I gave Andy the nod, and as Anne continued groping for words, Bev entered. Alice was by the ‘over the counter’ shelves.

“Morning, Alice! Anything for a chesty cough?”

I think Anne must have thought the Twilight Zone had dragged her away. As she spluttered, Alice sailed smoothly on.

“How’d that woman know her his shit name?”

I calmly looked down at the swell of my left breast, and lifted up the name tag pinned there. “Er…cause she is wearing one of these?”

“Yes, but she is a man! He is! “

I peered theatrically over at Alice. “Nope, not from where I’m standing. Suze, is that a man over there?”

“No, Sar, that’s Alice, stupid question”

I called over our Romeo. “Andy, is that a man by the cough cures?”

“Sarah, you need your eyes testing, that’s Alice”

Bev left the store, and I steered Anne into the dispensary. “Look, you seem a little off this morning, let’s get some of these repeats filled and get the day moving, OK?”

“Yes, but, she’s….”

“Drink your coffee and let’s get to work, OK?”

Alice took up a spot just outside our little booth, and Enid arrived, with a series of exchanges just like Bev’s, Anne hanging onto every word as her face went from white to red and back again.

After her first attempts to question Alice’s presence, Anne seemed to drop out of the conversation, as if she was simply waiting out a bad dream. Andy’s brother Nick was in, then his sister in law and the two boys, and Janet. That was the one where Anne started to lose it, as Janet calmly discussed how Jim was getting on at her school.

I found Anne shaking in the ladies’ after that. “Why are you all doing this? That’s a man in a wig!”

“That’s just Alice hill, your boss, Anne” I said softly. “She’s always been a woman”

“But she had a fucking BEARD!”

“That was a very bad disguise, Anne, and it made her very, very unhappy”

“But men don’t just change into women!”

“She didn’t, Anne, she has always been a woman, she just decided not to hide any more”

“But she’s wearing a wig!”

“So does Mrs Ibbotson who has the rash”

“That’s alopecia!”

“Yes, just like Alice. Come on, scrip to prepare, people to serve. Wipe your eyes and we’ll get the morning done”

She followed me out, and simply put her head down as she worked, ignoring Alice and the world around her as much as she could. That lasted until just before her lunch break.

“Hello there Alice, looking lovely today!”

“Why thank you, Father!”

The bottle Anne was holding was plastic, so it bounced.

“Will I see you on Sunday, then?”

“Indeed. I have a new hat to show off”

“Hmm, are you drifting into vanity, young lady?”

“Keep calling me ‘young’, Father, and you will certainly tempt me into that sin!”

Blushing bright pink, Anne muttered something about lunch and skittered off out of the shop on her heels. Pat watched her go. “Morning, Sarah, she seems just a bit on edge”

“Oh, she is, Pat, I think we’ve really freaked her out with all this ‘it’s just Alice’ stuff, I’m a little worried she’ll do something silly”

Andy came over. “Bev’s at the church, and she’s got the hands free kit on, and I gave her the number to Alice’s office. Speakerphone, everyone?”

We bundled in, and sat and stood round the desk. Bev rang about ten minutes after Anne had left.

“Brown Cow calling Home Pharm”

I looked hard at Andy, who was grinning. “You called your girlfriend a brown cow?”

His grin turned to a blush. “She’s not my girlfriend”

“Brown Cow to Home Pharm, then why is my toothbrush in your bathroom?”

Suzy kissed him on the cheek, with a little hug. Alice followed suit, and I was pleased to see Andy relax to that one. Bev continued.

“Target in sight.”

I visualised her kneeling in a pew, head covered, quietly ‘praying’ into her clip-on microphone as Anne passed her.

“She’s not doing the floor thing. She seems to be waiting. How much bloody scent has she put on? Sorry, shouldn’t swear in church”

Pat leant forward. “Your sin is forgiven. Buy one round of coffees on your return.”

“There’s a priest coming out.”

“Is it Bill?”

“Dunno, what’s he look like?”

“Tall, skinny”

“Nope. This one’s quite stocky, about five ten. Curly blond hair”

Pat started, then grinned. “Fucking Charlie Mulcahey! The dirty bastard!”

Bev’s voice came back. “Oy, Pat!”

“I’m not the one in Church, Bev. Where are they now?”

“He’s taking her to a door by the pulpit. They’ve gone in”

Pat grinned, happily. “Get yourself back, Bev, I know what’s going on now!”

Pat beamed around the room. “What we have here, my children, is a celibate hanger-on of Opus Dei, a celibate priest who happens to be well-known as a shagger, and a lunchtime knee-trembler. She’ll be chewing on his communion wafer as we speak”

He turned serous. “Charlie’s a hypocrite, but he’s a good parish priest. I wonder what he slipped Bill for the use of the vestry.”

I grinned. “Something different to what he’s slipping Anne, then!”

Pat raised his eyebrows. “No, I don’t think that’s what Charlie will be doing. She will see the actual act of intercourse as a mortal sin. Remember Clinton? ‘Eatin’ ain’t cheatin’ “

“You serious, Pat?”

“Deadly serious, Sar. I take my vows very seriously, and I take them as they are and were meant to be. Morality should know no sophistry. If I ever felt I could not maintain them, I would leave my calling immediately. Other people find ways to dance around their sin. You used that analogy ages ago to me, the man who parks illegally because it is convenient to him, but condemns everyone else’s breach.

“The Lord spoke of motes and beams. These people deny there s a log n their eyes, they call it an unfinished structural member. So it doesn’t count. Charlie justifies his shagging, but he means no harm. Anne is different. I think we need to lighten up on her or she will do something very, very silly.”

CHAPTER 44
Anne was back after lunch, and as Pat had suggested we let it slide for a while.

Alice was ecstatic, though. She had come through her first day at work without incident, as the staged meetings also seemed to have overridden any adverse reactions from the public. Margaret rang in late in the afternoon, wanting chapter and verse, and pronounced herself pleased with the outcome, though she echoed Pat’s note of caution. I realised that while we had had enormous fun, Anne needed bringing in rather than driving off. I had a quick mental image of Pie chasing her round the garden…

I asked Anne to step into the office at the end of the day, and noticed her wince at the sight of Alice.

“You can’t keep this pretence up. I know that’s Alan under that wig.”

“Sit down for a bit, Anne. Alice, can you do the honours with a cuppa?”

As she busied herself with the kettle, I spoke gently to Anne.

“Anne, love, what would your reaction have been to an announcement beforehand?”

“Announcement of what? That my boss is a pervert?”

I smiled. “No, she’s not a pervert. Her doctor thought she might be a lesbian, but we cleared that one up”

“So why is she…he…wearing women’s clothing?”

“Because she is a woman, Anne.”

She looked close to tears. “But she isn’t a woman! HE’s a man in a dress and a wig!”

“That’s not what her doctor tells us, Anne”

“But God made him a man!”

“Did God make you a blonde with highlights, Anne?”

“That’s different. God set out rules, and one of them is that men and women shall not cross dress.”

“That uniform blouse of yours, it’s polycotton, isn’t it?”

“Yes, but what has that to do with anything?”

“Mixed fibres. Where do you want your stoning?”

“You’ve been reading that stupid list of Bible quotes, haven’t you?”

“Yes, Anne, I have. Why do you call it stupid?”

Alice put the teas on the desk and sat by me. Anne murmured a ‘thanks’ and continued. “Because they have picked out all the silliest bits to poke fun at God”

“Anne, they are the word of God, so how can they be silly? You pick out one instruction to condemn Alice by, and ignore the ones you think of as silly. You wound a good boss, and a friend, with that. Why do you do that, Anne?”

She was in tears now. “Because it’s not RIGHT!”

I paused, and Alice found her a tissue. “Do you remember that sermon when we came down to your church, Anne, about Man being set challenges by God? This is Alice’s challenge. What else should she do?”

“She should live as God made her. I mean him”

Alice stepped in. “Anne, if I had had to keep pretending any longer I would not have been here. You know that I am a good Catholic, don’t you?”

Anne drew herself up, control returning as she got back onto familiar ground.

“Yes, I do. You don’t always act as well as you should, but you are faithful, and I often wish I could get you to join me at the Sepulchre. I value the friendship of true Christians, there aren’t many of us about”

She thought for a second. “Where would you have gone, then?”

“According to doctrine, to hell. I can’t remember which circle is reserved for suicides; can you?”

She sat open-mouthed. “You would have done that? All because of some silly clothes?”

I interrupted. “You seemed ready to condemn her to hell because of wearing some clothes, Anne. Is that because you see hell as some time off in the future, but here, now, her death would be worse? She’d end up in the same fix, either way”

Alice put her hand on my arm, to calm me. I was bristling just a little with that idea, that as long as it was out of sight, in her imaginary inferno, she could condemn, but when faced with the idea of a friend’s broken body turning in the waves she lost it. The fact that it was her condemnation to the imaginary that brought the real pain angered me. I let Alice take over.

“Anne, it will come as no surprise that I have done an immense amount of research into my condition. There is all sorts of evidence coming out now that suggests that brains are physically different in people like me. There are others who have chromosome oddities, such as three sex chromosomes instead of two, though that’s not true in my case. What is true is that I have a female mind, a female soul, created by our Lord, but for some reason He put it into a male body.

“What should someone like me do, Anne? God has made me in such a way that life is too painful to continue. He has, at the same time, given surgeons the skill to release me from that pain. What should I do, Anne? Should I slap my Creator in His face by destroying what He made, or let others glorify Him in their own work?”

Anne went to interrupt, tears flowing, and Alice held up a hand. “Just listen, Anne, please. I have no plans for surgery of that sort just now. I am getting on, and it has risks. I am on a hormone replacement regime, and Sarah here has been kind enough to do the necessary. I am changing, slightly, but pleasingly, but all I am asking for is the chance to live out the rest of my days as myself and not some sham. I have cross-dressed all my life, and it stops now”

She was holding Anne’s hand now, and I felt slightly ashamed of my hard line towards the woman. Anne looked up, and Alice just asked “Shall we pray together?”

Anne nodded, and Alice gave me a glance. “Sarah, be a dear, a little privacy”

I stepped out, leaving them to their prayers. Suzy and Andy were waiting, having a coffee, and wanted to know the score.

“The situation? Alice is about as true a Christian as I have ever met. Talk about turning the other bloody cheek, she’s apologising to Anne! The daft thing is that it seems to be working.”

I took a long breath. “I had a really good line stored up for her, as well, all about the sin of Onan”

Suzy turned pink, then red, then burst out laughing. “Oh, you bitch!”

Andy looked puzzled. “Isn’t that wanking?”

“Not necessarily, it’s ‘spilling seed on the ground’ “

I paused. “I meant to ask her if she spat or swallowed”

Andy did neither. He sprayed.

I waited for him to wipe himself, and then asked where Bev was.

“She’ll be around as we lock up, Sar. We’re going to an early showing at the cinema”

“Can I have a word? She could help Alice with her deed poll. That’s if she s still talking to you after ‘Brown Cow’ “

Andy laughed, and it was a happy sound. “I am sure she would love to help, and that name was her suggestion”

“Toothbrush in bathroom, hey?”

He blushed slightly. “And tights hanging over the bath as well, unfortunately”

I smiled. “Welcome to a proper relationship, I hope, Andy. Now, you two, I have my own announcement. Get your gladrags ready. Tony asked if we could set a date”

Suzy squealed. “Magic! Why weren’t we told immediately, woman?”

“Well, two of the till girls worked it out from looking at me, so why couldn’t you?”

Just then, the office door opened, and Alice came out with Anne, arm around her shoulder.

“Anne has something she would like to say”

Anne shook herself, and pulled back her shoulders. “It would appear I have been rather rude to my friends here, and I trust you are my friends. I cannot condone what Alice here is doing. it goes completely against Scripture and God’s laws, but we have talked this through, and it is clear that the alternatives are too dreadful to contemplate. So, while I will continue to pray with and for my dear friend here, I shall accept her as she wishes me to. If I stray from this, I ask you to remind me.”

She looked down, and then there was a hint of a smile. “How long did it take you to organise this morning?”

CHAPTER 45
Alice was pensive as she drove us home. Bev had agreed to call at the office the next day to have the deed poll sworn, and we would make the round of the banks as necessary. Margaret already had things in hand with head office, so it was now a matter of making a list for Alice to work through, starting with her driving licence.

Tony had taken Pie out to meet Jim from school, and then on to the park, so I had to make my own cuppa. He returned with Janet in tow. I was pleased to see that he seemed to be getting over his initial mistrust, but I could still see where it came from. I had made a pot, so we were soon settled down with a brew as Jim sipped a hot chocolate, Pie asleep at his feet. Both adults wanted to know how it had gone, and after the recitation, Janet looked at Alice. I sent Jim off to do some homework, and Janet spoke.

“I am not going to ask you what you two discussed in private, but she’s losing it, isn’t she?”

“Yes, Janet, I think she is. There is a lot going on in that mind of hers, and a lot of it is not pleasant.”

“She’s not likely to do anything silly, is she?”

Alice sighed. “That depends on what you mean. No, a lot of what we talked about was our friendship. She’s a real believer in hating the sin, not the sinner, which is usually such a trite phrase, but she sticks to it, or tries to. By doing something silly, I don’t mean lashing out at me, I mean with herself. She really bought into that purity before God stuff, and yet she remains an ordinary woman”

Tony snorted. “You’re not saying she just needs a damned good shagging, are you?”

“Sort of, Tone, sort of. She’s scratching that itch by seeing that Father Mulcahey isn’t distracted from his holy work by the needs of the flesh, but she doesn’t know that we know that. She’s getting some jollies by seeing to him, but it’s not just sexual frustration. She’s actually like a mirror image of Andy. Both of them want kids”

She paused for a while. “It is really as simple as that, and as complicated. All her life she has been devout, and as a girl she got really into a Marian ‘perfect virgin’ mindset. I suspect that if things had been only slightly different, we’d have seen her in one of those Opus Dei commune things”

I was intrigued by one thing there. ”What’s brought about the change then, Alice?”

She smiled. “You have, Sar, you have. With Jim, in particular, and Arris’ lot when she calls by, she gets reminded of what could be. Then Andy, of all people, starts talking about settling down and breeding his own little offshoots…”

Janet was nodding. “Pat has some good things to say about Charlie, as a worker, but the kindest thing he can find about his shagging was ‘thank fuck it’s not kids’. He’s a user, he says.”

Tony was frowning. “Janet, don’t take this wrong, as I know you are fond of Pat, but how does a good bloke like that manage to keep on with his calling when there are so many arseholes working with him?”

“That’s just it, Tony. It is his calling, his vocation. How others do it is irrelevant, he does it because he sees it as right and proper. Remember, he said to you that if he couldn’t be true to his vows or his vocation, he would leave immediately. Well, how others deal with theirs is irrelevant to what he does.”

Janet paused, and took a sip of her tea. “What he says about his vows is rather relevant to me, though. Tony, I’m not ‘fond’ of Pat, I actually believe I am falling in love with him. How he sees his vows is rather important to me.”

I caught Alice’s eye, and it was clear we had both suspected something like that. I reached across and took Janet’s hand.

“We don’t have the simplest of lives, do we, any of us?”

She smiled, wanly. “Just stick with the argument we are using on Anne, and make the best of it. I have a good and intimate friend in Pat, I don’t need to rip his clothes off; although some cuddles would be nice”

There was a hint of tears at the corners of her eyes, and they were fulfilled when I pulled her into a hug. She kept talking.

“All these years, and I never found a man who could challenge me, and when I finally do, he’s off limits. Alice, we are supposed to be sorting you out, not me, I’m so sorry”

I had been thinking. “Alice, Tony, would it be all right to share Jim around a bit? Perhaps let Anne babysit if she fancies it? I’m certainly not going looking for a bloke for her, but it might help break her out of the self-harm stuff”

Tony nodded. “She’d need a few ground rules, though. I don’t want him going down the godbothering route. If he wants to do that, he can decide himself when he’s old enough.”

I spoke softly in her ear as I held her. “Does he know how you feel?”

She gave an odd little laugh. “Oh yes, and he feels the same way. But he has taken vows”

What a world. Janet stayed with us for tea, and between the four of us we disposed of a decent quantity of wine, in celebration and commiseration. That night, I lay with Tony and thought once more of how I was becoming the care giver, rather than the victim I had once been.

“Tony, love…”

“Mmmff?”

“I was just thinking of how I seem to be doing all the caring and supporting here at the moment, compared to how I used to be”

“That’s because you are such a loving person, you can’t do anything else”

“Well, could I have some loving of my own, please?”

“Do you mean…?”

“Yes, it’s as healed as it will ever be, my love”

“You sure it will be OK?”

“It better be a bloody sight better than ‘OK’, Tony!”

And oh yes, it was.

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I was very sore the next day, but every time I moved the ache reminded me ,and I smiled as I gingerly got into Alice’s car.

“Ah, you had a test drive last night, then”

My blush answered her. She grinned. “I don’t need to see you walking like John Wayne, love, you are very, very vocal. Perhaps a few less graphic requests while Jim is at home?”

Oh shit. She was on a roll, though.

“ ‘Make me come’ could be explained away to him, I think, but I’d find it a bit harder to deal with ‘fuck me, fuck my brains out’ “

I was wishing for the car seat to swallow me by now. She stopped her teasing, and squeezed my knee with her left hand.

“I am so happy for you, Sarah, you give an old tart like me real hope. My time will come, though. And a part of it is coming today. Now, I need to choose a name”

“Alice Hill, of course!”

“Yes, but I have a middle initial, from ‘Martin’ “

“Then you have a choice. Either after the boss, or as a good Catholic….”

“Margaret or Mary, hmm?”

“Or Millicent, Myfanwy, Megan, Mata, Maureen, Marcella…”

“Enough! We shall ask the crew”

Anne was in early, for once, and she flashed us a smile. “Morning, Sarah, morning Alice”

Alice gave her a quick hug and peck. “I have a question for you, Anne. I am altering my name legally from today, and I need a middle name. It has to start with ‘M’ as that is my current initial.”

“Simple, Alice. You are a good Catholic girl, and there is only one name you could choose for that”

“Mary?”

“Not quite. I believe Sarah has been a prime source of help and support for you here, so perhaps the Welsh form, whatever it is?”

I smiled at that. “It’s ‘Mair’ “

So, when Bev appeared, and Anne didn’t rush off to whip herself, we gathered in the office, the six of us, and Alan Martin Hill became, for all legal purposes, Alice Mair Hill.

CHAPTER 46
I took Alice to the first meeting, at her local bank branch, where we produced the deed poll and letter from her quack, and it all went rather smoothly. That was why I was so surprised when, as we exited, I realised she was trembling.

“What’s up, love?”

“Sar, I think I am losing that head of steam. Did you see the way that bank girl looked at me? As if I was infected in some way?”

“Sorry, Alice, but I have to be blunt. I started everything when I was young. My body and everything else had a chance to change, and you will never get that chance. Not to the same extent, anyway.”

I took her into the shadow of Westgate. “Look, I am not being nasty here, you just need a little reality. There is only so much that clothing and make up can do for you. Don’t think I haven’t noticed that beard removal you’ve been sneaking off for, either. Life has some really shitty bits, but you have two huge assets”

She made a joke of it by looking down at her chest. I smiled back. “No, not those. I mean firstly that you are a genuinely good person, which people can see, and they appreciate you for it. That leads to the second thing, which is that because of that you are not alone. Get some things straight, here.

“People will stare. Do you know them? Do they know you? No? Then fuck ‘em. DILLIGAF, that’s your friend”

“DILLIGAF?”

“Do I look like I give a fuck? We have a number of people you have to see, like the bank girl, but only once. When they are out of the way, you will only be dealing with customers, your doc, and friends.

“It was my sister who made me see sense, after I lost some good friends. It was Arris who dragged me kicking and screaming back to the two best men in my life. You have friends who are just as good for you. Trust them, rely on them”

Two coffins, one cremation. It still hurts, even now. I had a thought. “What about your church?”

“Anne asked about that, when we had that long chat. She’s offered to come down with me as support.”

Alice started to laugh. “I think she sees me as someone to mother”

“There is one other thing here, and that is your medication. Your body thinks it is a teenaged girl at the moment, and you will find your head all over the place, so talk to us before you do anything major, and realise that a lot of your fears are just the hormones having a bit of a party in your bloodstream. Promise me?”

I got my promise, and a hug, and we moved on to the Post Office for the licence change forms. A photo booth, a couple of copies of the poll and letters, and off it went. Slowly, steadily, Alan Hill was vanishing from the world.

“What are people seeing, Alice? I will tell you what they see. We are two women from the chemist’s up the road, out shopping together. They see uniform and skirt, shoes and hair. Just like the school when you collect Jim. People see what they expect, so give it to them. How do you feel now?”

“Better. It’s all a bit of an anticlimax, to be honest. I sort of thought it would be a huge drama, all fireworks and big speeches, but it just seems so humdrum now”

“Well, speaking to the checkout girls beforehand, most of them thought you must be gay. It’s quite a common perception”

I had a sudden thought. “Alice? Which way do you swing? Sorry for asking, but with all this broodiness going about, I just wondered….”

“Ah, Sarah, I have spent so long trying to hide I never really had a chance for anything like that. Any thoughts about romance always foundered on what was between my legs”

“I managed…”

“Yes, so I heard! No, love, you were as lucky as you say. I suppose I am a bit like Quentin Crisp. He always wanted the big dark man, the straight guy, but by definition any big dark man would have to be gay to want him. I suppose I am straight, myself, so if I ever found anyone I would want them to desire me, however I am, and that would always leave me wondering how straight they were themselves.”

“Tony…”

She interrupted me. “Tony is a diamond, someone who saw the woman even when he knew of her deformity. There aren’t many like him about. How many other men have you been out with? Apart from the shit, that is?”

I thought back to post-Joe, and all the creepiness that had crawled out into the open. She was right.

“I take your point. But just because I was lucky, it doesn’t mean that you won’t be”

“Sarah, love, just letting me be myself is all I aimed for. Anything else is a bonus. Anyway, knowing my luck I would end up like Janet, with some chap I couldn’t touch. Let’s just get through life and enjoy it, hey? Back to work.”

Up and down; I should have expected it.

She sighed. “Do you know, it is actually Pat I feel for. I have known him so long, I even fancied him a bit myself. How can anyone who sees so many shades of grey be so black and white?”
As we got to the door of the shop, she laughed. “It’s how the two of us cope, isn’t it? We spend so much time worrying about others we don’t notice our own problems till they’ve sorted themselves out”

The work day ended and we drove the same rut home as ever, but this time it was with anticipation. Don’t get that wrong; much as I had enjoyed my frolics with my great bear, and anticipated many more similar nights, I was still sore. The anticipation was all Alice’s. She was going to work through her wardrobe and cast out old ghosts, and once we had dealt with the detritus in our house she would do the same in her own. We were having well, not exactly arguments, but differences of opinion over which charity to donate it all to. Tony suggested a car boot sale, and then Janet pointed out that there would be a bring and buy event at the school to raise funds for a new reading programme and reflective waistcoats for parents running the ‘walking bus’

Janet won the day, with me second. I wanted to give stuff to the British Heart Foundation, due to their pro-cycling bias, so we agreed that Alice could set up a clothing stall for the school event, the remnants going to the BHF. This was an important moment for her, the final cutting of ties to her past life. It needed to be done with a smile and company.

A few days before the event, Alice asked if she could run something past us.

“Four people have been lifesavers for me. That’s you two, Jim, and Enid. All one family, no, shut up, you made me welcome, and look where I am now. I feel part of this family, and I have been speaking with Enid, and Janet, and we have a proposal for you.

“Firstly, it makes no sense me running my own house just for the days I am not here. It similarly makes no sense for Enid to keep rattling round your old place in Harwich. Therefore, we have decided to pool our resources. Sarah, I am really sorry, but your mother in law is going to be living a lot closer to you, so you need to practise the old jokes”

Tony looked a little put out. “Do you think we might have been consulted on this one?”

Alice looked at her shoes. “I have a confession to make. I was delighted when Enid started helping me, I was astounded when so many other people, even Andy, rallied round, but I knew, I know, it will never be easy. I am too old to pass as easily as Janet, or you, Sar, so I will always be a little odd to people’s eyes. Then all this worry with Anne.

“I made myself a promise…Sar, do you remember when you sad I hadn’t told you anything? Well, I told myself this was make or break, I would see how it went, and if it turned bad, that was it. You were my hope, and if that failed, well, game over”

With a chill, I knew what she meant. With all the laughs, all the joking and fun with Enid, she had been calmly planning her own death if things had gone badly. Just like that.

There is a mindset in a suicide. I had often considered it, but in that emotional agony where it is a mental scream, almost childlike, ‘They’ll be sorry!’. A state which rarely if ever leads on to a real attempt at self-termination. There is another mood, though, a darker one, where death is considered calmly, and methodically, and with purpose. The car exhaust hose; the overdose in a locked room while everyone else will be away; the long drive out to the high and windy cliff top that she had already contemplated.

There are people who book into decent hotels in East Sussex, so they can have a night of luxury before stepping into emptiness by the Beachy Head light. Calm, placid, deadly. Shit.

I touched her hand. “Alice…”

She smiled. “No, Sar, Tony, no. That is past. I took my chance, and it has gone better than I could ever have hoped. Enid knew, she made me promise not to tell you till I knew it was past. Well, it is past. She will be putting the old place on the market, and joining her family, and we trust that will please them.”

She looked up, and grinned, and the old mischief was back in her eyes.

“And no, we’re still not dykes!”

CHAPTER 47
That left us caught between two stools: whether to celebrate the arrival of Enid, or to explore Alice’s problems further. She steered us neatly away from that one with a seemingly flippant comment about water under the bridge, and we got on to planning the disposal of a sizeable proportion of her worldly goods.

I had a thought.

“Alice, how close is Pat to your size?”

“Not far off. You thinking of inviting him to have a trawl through?”

“Not exactly, I was thinking of asking Janet. Women dress men better than they do themselves”

“He tends to work in uniform, Sar”

“Yeah, but the cassock’s left at the office!”

I phoned Janet to check his sizes, and to no great surprise on my part she already knew them, and apart from shoes they were a close enough match. Alan had always been very dapper, meticulous in his appearance, so there were a number of suits that would work for Pat even with the odd collar he wore. Janet asked for the shoes as well, though.

“We give them to Shelter, there’s always a need for shoes at this time of year”

‘We’. I felt for her then, for them, two lovely people trapped by something I could never understand. He could have followed the same route as Father Charlie, but he was too sincere in his beliefs. She obviously loved him enough to respect that, and the result was a stalemate. Give me that old time religion.

Time went by, as it does when you are distracted. Tony organised a removal firm to clear the old Harwich place, but he seemed a little out of sorts when we went up to oversee some of the packing, leaving Jim with Alice for the weekend.

“What’s up, love?”

“Oh, nothing really, Sar, I know it makes sense for Mum to move, but this was our home, Dad’s place, and it seems so odd to leave it.”

He sighed, and I realised he was actually crying. “This was Annie’s place too, Sar.”

I took my great bear into my arms, and he wept. There were no complications in my thoughts, just then, as I comforted the real love of my life as he mourned another woman. Annie was part of who he was, Annie was Jim, she was part of my own world and life. I could see that to Tony this meant cutting off his past.

“Tony, my love, you know that she will always be with us. Jim is there, Jim is Annie”

Enid walked in on us, and over his shoulder she just mouthed the name, and I nodded slightly. She walked back out, and five minutes later returned with a tray of tea, and took her big, hurt boy from my arms into her own.

That was a moment that shook me, a little, the realisation that there would always be another woman in our life. I had always known that, of course, but Tony’s tears brought it home to me. had my own guilt, the knowledge that I had gained my happiness only from the death of another, from a man losing his wife, a son his mother. Guilt, but determination. I loved Tony, deeply, and if I was going to gain from his loss, then I would repay it. Pat’s proxy sermon, ‘be the best you can’. I would be the best wife, the best mother I could be. I could never stop the hurt, but he would never bear it alone.

It was an important moment for me. I knew I loved him, and Jim, I knew they loved me. We shared and we laughed, and when we made love, well, Alice knew what he did to me. But just then, with his pain, I really knew that I loved him, and that tiny little Sam voice that had always whispered ‘you’re not real’ faded into silence. He loved me, he loved me so much that he shared his tears for his dead wife with me. That said everything.

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The house sale went quickly as there was no chain to worry about and the place was empty. In the meantime, Alice’s place at Eythorne filled up with clutter and clothing and occasional small boy and dog. I would ride out there with Jim, through Guston and Whitfield on back lanes, after pushing the bikes up the ferociously steep Connaught Road to the barracks. He was getting used to the gears, and really coming along with his riding, particularly in accepting that a hill isn’t to be rushed. I simply enjoyed the rides with him, as my fitness slowly returned after my enforced time off. Often, as we sat sipping hot chocolate at the top of yet another short climb, he would talk about camping trips and going abroad, and I would promise that when things got warmer we would either go to another rally or, if he was good, take our bicycles and tents across the water to Holland or France.

“Don’t forget, though, you have Pie to think of. We either have to stay here in Britain, or he has to stay at home while we are on holiday”

“I could carry him n a rucksack”

I laughed. “Pie will soon be nearly as big as you! No, love, it will be nice to go on holiday somewhere special again, but till he’s grown a bit he needs you with him. Now, where would you like to take the bikes?”

He looked at the hill we had just climbed, an alp for a small boy, and grinned. “Somewhere flat, Mum!”

“How about Holland then?”

“Are there birds there for you to look at?”

“Oh yes, and windmills and cheese and canals!”

“When Pie is bigger, then?”

“Yes, love, when he’s bigger. Race you down this hill?”

And time did go by, as it does, and one day in March we were queuing on Belgrave Road as I waited for the nice lady’s eyes to go back to their normal size so she could get on with issuing my replacement passport, with that lovely little ‘F’ in it.

All decks finally cleared. I looked at Tony as I held my little burgundy-covered jewel. “Shall we ask Pat?”

“As soon as possible suits me, love. A big one, or just the family?”

“Na, there are too many people we can’t leave out. And before you ask, I am not going as a meringue. White, yes, flounces no. Got that?”

“Yeah, but you’ll want me in a monkey suit”

“Morning suit. Of course, it’s my wedding, I get to say”

“I’ll warn Steve. He’ll need time to get something to fit him.”

“Doesn’t he have some Scot in him somewhere?”

That was a thought. Thor in a kilt….eyes off, girl, he belongs to Arris!

“So, that’s the four kids sorted. My sister and sis in law, and Arris as bridesmaids…Alice as matron of honour...Shit”

“What’s up, love?”

“A den of Papist idolatry for the wedding of a Chapel girl. My parents will be less than happy”

“Would they be happy for Pat to perform the ceremony, though?”

“Oh god yes, they like him, even if he is a left-footed Mick papist, or whatever.”

“Well, perhaps there is somewhere else he could do it. All sorts of places are licensed these days”

I looked at him. “Silly question, love, but you do still want to marry me?”

He kissed me, and a passing cabby hooted. Where to have the wedding?

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Pat was, of course, more than happy to officiate, but also a little put out at our suggestion that we go away from his church.

“Pat, that’s the problem, a wedding is for everyone else, not just me and Tony. We just need to find somewhere that is acceptable to all comers. If we had an Anglican church, my parents would probably be OK, they just get a bit frisky with all the statues in a Catholic place. They’re very Welsh”

Pat sighed. “I know the vicar of Saints Peter and Paul, that’s an Anglican place. I can ask!”

Just round the corner as well. That left me with one major event in addition that needed planning. Chelsey and Aleishya had been right: there was need for a hen night. My liver had been having too easy a life lately.

CHAPTER 48
Invitations, guest lists, it’s so much easier for a young girl to get married, she isn’t running a bloody household and someone else does the planning. My parents, for a start, needed reminding. I rang them

“Mam, wyt ti’n cofio’r fodrwy’na, o Tony?”(Mam, you remember that ring, from Tony?)

“Pa ddydd fydda fe?” (Which day will it be?)

Not slow, my mother. I told her we were hoping for June, and ran the important question past her.

“We were hoping to get Pat to do the service. Do you remember him?”

“Yes, the priest. He is a good man, even if he is a Roman Catholic, and blasphemes too much.”

I had to laugh at that. “Mam, he swears like a sailor, but I have never, ever heard him blaspheme. He takes that very seriously indeed!”

“Well, in a Roman church, is it? I’m not sure if your father could support that”

“No, Mam, it would be in an Anglican place, Pat knows the vicar. No, I don’t know whether it is High or not. If it’s a problem, there is always the Registry Office”

“No daughter of mine is going to wed in an office”

“Elaine did”

“That was because they did not allow her to do anything else. If I had had my way, it would have been in the Chapel”

Now and again, my mother surprises me. Just like my father, once Elaine had convinced her to accept me, she almost claimed it as her own idea. She was in full flow of indignation now.

“God made you, and He will see you wed to that good man of yours. You will wed in His sight, and in His house”

I could have teased her then, by pointing out that he had had help from a surgeon, but I bit my tongue.

“You will be thinking that a surgeon made you. I know my own daughter, and I tell you this, it is not the outward show that makes a good person.”

Her voice softened. “Cariad, I look at you now and wonder how your Dad and I ever missed what you were. I thank God every day that your sister saw so much more clearly than us, and I look at poor Alice and see you, as you would have been if Elaine had had any less courage.

“We are proud of both of you, you know. Now….how many guests does your Dad have to pay for?”

I started laughing. “Mam, yes, we were hoping to get some help with some of it, but Enid is also helping, and I have money from the sale of the flat, so tell him he isn’t doing the traditional bit and paying for the lot! I will take some help, indeed, but I just want my family with me so it can be the best day of my life”

“You really do love him, don’t you?”

“I only realised exactly how much a little while ago, Mam”

I told her of my thoughts in Harwich, of his tears. She sighed. “A man who can cry for his family is a good man. You will remember your Dad did”

I did remember, indeed, ‘Two pretty daughters’, something that had kept me going even at the worst of my despair. I laughed, happily, and she asked what was so funny.

“Nothing is funny, Mam, just thinking that I should get you a box of tissues each for the wedding!”

“Ha! Well, we need to know how many bridesmaids, and what colour you will be going for”

“Well, I thought of Alison, Elaine and Siá¢n as the bridesmaids, with Alice as matron of honour. Alison’s three and Jim, of course, as attendants. Tony wants Steve as best man. There will be the people from work, plus some of Tony’s colleagues. Can you speak to your side, Aunty Gwen and Uncle Gethin? And the cousins? I know the Lloyds haven’t been too happy about Elaine and me, but this is the sort of thing to build bridges”

“I know how I can sell that to him, love, just tell him it’s a chance for a booze cruise to France”

Eventually, after the usual torrent of local gossip, I hung up. I had another call to make.

“UKBA, Operations room”

“Hello, I’m trying to contact a Stephanie Jones”

“Tall, red hair?”

“That’s the one”

“Can I ask what it is concerning?”

“It’s a wedding invitation. I’m marrying one of her old team mates”

I realised whoever was on the phone wasn’t just going to connect a random stranger to an internal phone, so I drip-fed him information till he was satisfied.

“I’m Tony Hall’s fiancée”

“What, Tony the Tank? Would you be that blonde lady that was at the final year before last, up Brum way?”

“Yes, that’s me”

“Lucky man! Look, she’s on duty at the moment, in the South, so I’ll put you through. She’s not Jones any more, though, she’s Woodruff.”

“Ta!”

The miserable cow! She’d beaten me to it!

The phone made a burble, then started to ring again. Some woman with a strong south London accent answered it, and I asked for Steph Woodruff.

“Hello, can I help you?”

I switched to Welsh.

“Sorry to call out of the blue, but I don’t know if you remember me”

She laughed. “Not many women ring me up and speak to me in West Welsh. You’re Tony’s other half, er, Sarah?”

“Yup, guilty. I have an invitation for you, and there is a bit of devious logic behind it. I’ve had that little adjustment, and the wedding is in June, so, if you want, I would like to have you along as a guest”

“Does he know you are asking me? And what about my husband?”

“Yes, you sod, I know you beat me to it, and no, I haven’t spoken to him. I just thought, from my point of view, it is the best moral support I could have, and you and your husband get a decent meal out of it”

She laughed. “Trust me, all the moral support I needed at our wedding was Geoff. Now, I am somewhat disqualified from this one, but I am sure as an old team mate I should have an input into his stag night. I shall speak to Dave.”

“Was that that rather dishy prop?”

“You like them chunky, don’t you? Yes, the big lad.”

There was a long pause. “ Now, I better let you in on a little secret. Tony sent me an e-mail yesterday. Dave and the rest of the team already know, but I am really touched you thought of me.”

“Shit, I feel stupid now!”

“Don’t. Just realise how much in tune the two of you clearly are. Now, unless you want me at the hen night, I shall see you at the church”

We said our goodbyes and I was left feeling a little deflated. I should have realised, the rugby team hadn’t gone away while I tried to sort Alice. Tony had his own past, as did I. I started to giggle at the thought of sending an invitation to Joe, telling him some old friends would be there for him.

Oh, how well a sunny future drives out the shadows of the past.. Now, dresses…..

CHAPTER 49
Mam was back on the phone the next day.

“I spoke to Gethin and Gwen. It was a little heated, but they have agreed to talk to you, see if we can get the family, well, at least civil. So here is a proposal. If you have a weekend free, perhaps around half term, we would love to see Jim, and it would be a treat for him to see something of home.

“Sarah, you understand we look on him as ours now? Just watch us, make sure we don’t spoil him!”

I had a chat with Tony, and he was eventually happy for me to take the train to Swansea, to be picked up by Elaine, as the trains to Abergwaun are limited to one a day. Arriving at half past one in the morning was not an option with Jim along.

Tony’s concern was simple: if my family got fractious, it would upset Jim. He had a chat with Mam, and she pointed out that Jim’s presence would be the one thing that would prevent such an explosion. So, one Saturday morning at the start of half term we got the train from the Priory up to Charing Cross, then the Bakerloo to Paddington, Jim doing the navigation through the Underground. As we headed West I looked around for kites, and got a few, but we were rattling along nicely, soon through Swindon, and as we approached the Severn Tunnel I asked Jim to keep an eye out for any octopus that might try and get in.

He told me not to be silly.

We popped out into sunshine again, and the countryside was different, the hills rising almost from the coast. Eventually, with a bit of a shiver, I realised we were coming into the city. Memories were lurking, but Jim was prattling, and as we stepped off and headed for the ticket barrier Elaine’s shout and smile finished driving the nastiness out. She wrapped me in a crunching hug.

“Bloody hell, chwaer, you’re going to have to ease off on the weights!”

“Na, the missus likes me with a bit of meat on my bones. Hiya Jim! Croeso i Gymru!”

“Hi Aunty Elaine! You coming to Mum and Dad’s wedding?”

“Of course, little man, she came to mine so it is only fair”

We set off up the motorway to Caerfyrddin, then across to Hwlffordd before the valley run through Treffgarne and the rock outcrops nearby. As we approached Abergwaun, I pointed to the hill above Goodwick.

“See those houses, Jim? That place is called Stop-and-Call”

“You are being silly again, Mum!”

Not this time, sonny Jim, not this time. The kettle was, of course, on, as mobile phones have managed to reach this far West, and as we were guests there was a choice of biscuits from a proper tin. Some things never change.

Nana Sioned was in full voice. “Jim! Der yma, fy nghariad!”

Give him credit, he went with the flow. A grandmother holding her arms out to you is a pretty obvious hint, after all.

“We have a meal at the Oak tonight, Gwen and Gethin will join us, as will Arwel.”

Arse. if ever there was someone who objected to my life, if not actually my being alive, it was my father’s older brother. I had walled off my family after that night with Elaine, when the nastiness had gone too far, but now I really felt that I had to make the effort. These were people of my parents’ age, and while I still had time, they had less, and I couldn’t help think of Alice and Janet. My mother was right. Alice would die as a woman, but a very masculine one. Janet had taken the other route, and loneliness had swallowed her. I had the opportunity to be different and, fuck it, they were family. I worried that I was using Jim as a shield, but family deserved one last throw of the dice. You open the door….oh, I couldn’t help thinking of Dave Gilmour’s lyric about opening the door to his enemies and asking if they could wipe the slate clean.

“They told me to please go fuck myself”

Go for it. If they told me to go fuck myself, I had lost nothing. I had survived Joe, I had coped with Alice, with Anne and Andy. I had climbed out of my cesspit of despair and found the best man in the world. What could they take away from me?

On the other hand, if…if…Jim gained an entire family, I regained my own. Win-win. I had read too much of people who lost their roots for no good reason. Well, not this girl, not without a fight.

Dad came in, and swept me into a big hug. He whispered in my ear “Paid a phoeni”

Don’t worry.

Siá¢n was down at half six, and we set off for the pub like a patrol of soldiers in hostile country. Mam was tense, and Dad was being a little too solicitous towards Jim.

The pub is an historic one, from where the women of Pembrokeshire repelled a French invasion, and it does go up and down food-wise, depending on chef, and Mam had assured me that they were on the upswing again.

Gwen and Gethin were waiting. I felt their eyes on me as entered, just as I felt Siá¢n and Elaine flank me as my Dad took my hand. Aunty Gwen opened hostilities. She looked me up and down, obviously checking for the bulge of a cock.

“You are looking well, Samuel, all things considered”

My father replied, calmly. In his case, calmly was like the proverbial iceberg.

“Sarah has an announcement, but we can wait for Arwel. This is Jim, her little boy”

There s no real equivalent in Welsh for ‘what the fuck?’ as most swearing falls within ‘diawlo, daro’, which Pat would consider blaspheming. I could, however, see ‘WTF?’ in their faces. I smiled.

“When Uncle Arwel s here I shall tell all. Jim, this is your great aunt Gwen, and great uncle Gethin.”
.
He had been studying, and held his hand out to Aunty Gwen with a “Shw mae?” She rook his hand, a little disconcerted

“Da iawn, diolch” She looked at me. “Mae e’n siarad gymraeg? Dydw e ddim yn Sais?”

Bless you Jim. “No, Aunty Gwen, he doesn’t speak Welsh, but he wants to learn it so he can talk to Granddad Twm and Nana Sioned”

Fifteen love.

“Jim, do you want to have a look at the menu? Aunty Gwen, want to talk him through any local stuff?”

There was a rumble behind me. “So where the fuck is he, then?”

Arwel. “Do you mind? My little boy is only learning Welsh, but I would appreciate less swearing by him”

A very large man, greying hair swept back over his head, face ruddy with broken veins and a couple of sovereign rings on his hands. Uncle Arwel.

“Sorry, girl, I was looking for my nephew”

“You don’t recognise me then?”

Stop it, Sarah. This was supposed to be a peace meeting, not points scoring. Dad stepped in.

“As long as you’re standing, Arwel, you can get the beers in. Brains for me and the three girls, , a half for Sioned, and…Jim, yes? A coke for the boy. Jim, want to give your Uncle Arwel a hand?”

They wandered off, and Dad leant in. “We knew Jim would make it easier, but trust me, we wanted to see him as well, we aren’t just using him”

“I know, Dad, I know, Mam said. But if it gets nasty, we leave.”

“We understand, love.”

Pray god that my marriage is as strong as my parents’.

Arwel was back with the drinks, easing himself into the seat we had kept.

“He’s a polite boy. Does he understand us?”

“No, uncle, just a few words, but he wants to learn”

“You look just like a fucking woman”

I sighed. This could get repetitive. “I am a fucking woman, uncle. Want me to show you my fanny?”

My mother’s hand went to my arm. “Arwel, stop it. This is what our daughter has been for twenty years, on the outside, and all her life inside. She has come to try and get some sort of reconciliation with her family, because she has proper values, and will request the same courtesies from you”

Elaine kept quiet, but I spotted how she held herself, clearly judging how quickly she could be out of her seat. Arwel kept digging.

“Just, I was expecting that pansy, in a dress or something, not a woman with a kid”

His head jerked up. “How the…hell did you get a kid?”

I held up my left hand. “Jim is my fiancé’s son. This is why I wanted to talk to you, and why I want to see my cousins while we are here. Tony and I are getting married in June, and I want my family to stand with me.”

Still digging, still the same old questions. “This Tony bloke, then, does he know you’re a boy, then?”

“Arwel, two things here. Firstly, Tony knows everything about me, apart from what an arsehole you can be. Secondly…”

I shook off my mother’s calming hand.

“Do I look or sound like some fucking ‘boy’?”

He started to laugh. “Ych, definitely a Powell, then, with that temper!”

Arwel looked at me, flat, measuring. “This man then, this Tony. Tell us about him, then. He better not be like that little turd Twm told me about”

Of course, they all knew about Joe, The damage to my face had been rather difficult to hide, and then the crap with the police. I gave them the story, the reunion, Jim’s mum, and he sat oblivious as I framed my speech carefully to avoid him understanding it. Arwel nodded through it, and Gwen looked quite emotional.

Arwel grunted. “This…accident that your little cunt had, did your…fiancé have anything to do with it?”

“Not at all, but it s possible he knew a man who did”

“Good. It saved me paying him a visit properly, though I did have a few words of my own with him later”

He caught my stare. “What? I didn’t touch him! Just told him that once he had healed I was coming for his other nut. He moved away after that, sharpish like”

I sensed Elaine settling back into her seat, and my tension was easing.

“Why, Uncle Arwel? You hated me”

“Sarah, I hate nancy boys.”

He called me Sarah. Shit.

“I know it’s not pee-cee or whatever, but I can’t be doing with all that fairy stuff. If you are gong to fancy blokes, then fancy real blokes, not some mincing woofter. That’s what I thought you were, but you’re not, are you? It’s like Elaine, she fancies women, not pretend blokes, I mean, look at Siá¢n there, nobody would put her down as a dyke now, would they?”

He lowered his voice. “That boy, he calls you mam, yeah?”

“Mum, actually”

“Don’t worry, it’ll be mam by the time he leaves here. Look, love, you’re family. We’ve fucked about too long for this. Yes, I’ll come and stand by you, and if that man of yours doesn’t do right by you I will talk to him too.”

He looked across the table “Gwen, Gethin, are you two going to be sensible here or keep playing arseholes?”

Fuck me. I couldn’t actually agree with his logic, which seemed to be all about Real Men and Real Women, but what the hell. I wandered over to the bar with our meal order and started the recitation to the landlord. A jarring English voice broke in.

“Always the fucking same, come into these places and the sheepshagging bastards switch into fucking Welsh as soon as you walk in”

I looked at him, some tosser of a holidaymaker obviously on his way to Ireland.

“Tell me, how do you know what we were speaking before you came in? This s a Welsh pub, in Wales, and we speak Welsh here, just as they would speak French in a Calais pub. Does your paranoia extend to France as well?”

“Unless you want a slap, darling, I would shut it”

There was a rumble over my right shoulder. “Unless you want to do it without teeth, I suggest you don’t talk to my niece like that”

Elaine appeared by me, and after a nod at the landlord, she spoke to the twat with the attitude.

“I suggest you finish your drinks and head for the ferry. I could start listing the public order offences you have already committed---yes, I am a copper–but the paperwork is a bitch, and I might need to visit the ladies’ and leave you with my family.”

She smiled, and gestured to the rest of the pub. “Oh, did you notice all the other sheepshaggers who were listening to you? Now might be a really good time to leave. Don’t hurry back”

She looked around at the other locals. “Fun’s over, ladies and gentleman, arsehole is leaving the building”

Elaine followed him and his friends to the door ,then pulled out her phone as it shut.

“Kev? Elaine. Blue Mondeo, 57 plate, just leaving the Oak. I think he’s had a few; on his way to the ferry. Yeah? Good oh!”

I looked round the table, and caught grins from Gethin and Arwel. I had my family back.

CHAPTER 50
The beer flowed, and folk relaxed. About eight thirty, we were joined by Aunty Gwen’s two, Karen and Elspeth. Ellie was straight to the point.

“Bloody hell, you look just like Mam used to!”

“Yeah”, Karen replied, “But she would never have worn a skirt THAT short! You trying to prove a point, Sam, er, Sarah? And who’s the kid?”

Start at the beginning….”Yes, Mam said I looked like Aunty Gwen, and as I have the legs I intend to flaunt them. And Jim here is my fiancé’s boy”

Cue the usual question and answer session, and then, to my delight, a couple of hugs, and a squealing inspection of the ring. Some women are teenagers all their life. The last of the crew, Arwel’s son Hywel, joined us ten minutes later. We had already eaten our meals, though Jim was still working his way through some sticky toffee pudding and custard, and the three latecomers just ordered some sandwiches to go with their beer.

I have to describe the scene as it would have appeared to an outsider. A little sandy-haired boy, on the edge of adolescence, eats pudding surrounded by adults. There are five women, all with varying shades of strawberry blonde hair, one rather plumper, three younger, all very obviously related. One of the younger women, in a short denim skirt, is clearly taller than the others.

There are four men. One is tall and slim, bald with greying hair, the other three big, also clearly related, two of them obviously father and son, chunky gold jewellery and dark hair swept back over their heads, greying on the older one. The other man has crew cut dark hair, showing the early stages of male pattern baldness. All three are broad men, their hands scarred, in Arwel’s case one finger missing a joint.

Sat quietly to one side are two other women. One is obviously a relative of the others, same hair, same nose, but broader, with corded forearms and restless eyes that move over the bar unceasingly. Next to her sits a pale-skinned redhead, hair in curls to the shoulders, happily plump and looking fully relaxed.

Just an ordinary family group on an evening out at the local pub. Still waters, though.

It got a little repetitive, explaining all to the cousins, so I turned to the purpose of the trip.

“We have our wedding in June. I would love to have as many of you there as possible. It will be in Dover, so you will need your passports”

I paused for the laughter. “If you want to go over to France for the day!”

Arwel had had a quiet word with his son as he arrived, and there was no nastiness there. The girls were more concerned with ring and offspring than with what had once dangled between my legs, and even Uncle Gethin was thawing, especially when Jim started playing with the camera I had brought. Ellie looked pensive.

“I have an idea for a wedding present for you, Sar, if you want it. It’s odd remembering you’re so out of touch, so I don’t know if Aunty Sioned told you, but I’ve got the flower shop on the High Street, down past the Taj Mahal restaurant. Would you let me do your flowers as a gift?”

Bless you, Ellie. “I couldn’t think of a nicer present, girl. Now, you lot, now that I know where we stand I am going to get very, very boring, and you are going to suffer s slide show back at Mam and Dad’s. I put a load of stuff onto disc, so you will see me, and Jim, and Australia and also the man who owns me heart and soul.”

Hywel muttered. “Bloody hell, woman, we only just got here! Can’t a man have a couple more pints first?”

“Hywel, my love, sweet man of ordered priorities, we thought of that. Elaine and Dad had a run out to the supermarket, and unless you want something special, I think we have more than enough at home”

The prospect of free beer soothed his worries, and somehow we all ended up squeezed into the front room as I slipped my CD of photos and odd bits of video into my parents’ DVD player. There were appreciative murmurs throughout, at the scenery, at video of kangaroos, and partway through I had to slap Karen’s leg. I had included some shots of Tony playing rugby, and I swear she was salivating.

“Has he got any brothers, Sar?”

That sparked off a conversation I had been a little apprehensive of. Tony’s family consisted of the three of them, whereas mine was quite the clan, so I had anticipated a little argument about moving all of them to Dover rather than four of us to Wales, but it never came. They understood that it was the bride’s prerogative, and I thought I felt a wave of sympathy at his being without family. Eventually, as Jim started yawning, people began to make their excuses and their farewells, and soon there were just the six of us in the living room, Jim dozing beside me. I looked at my parents.

“That went better than I would ever have expected. I am assuming that two of you did rather a lot of ground work before hand. Am I right?”

Elaine and Dad exchanged grins. They needed to say nothing at all in reply, the answer was obvious. How could I ever have doubted my family?

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The next couple of days were spent showing Jim some of the sights, like the hidden cathedral of Dewi Sant, and the sweep of Traeth Mawr with the rocks offshore, the place i used to sit so often as a confused and hurting ‘boy’. We skimmed flat stones over the surf running in before a raw westerly before diving into the beach café for a warm drink. Elaine waited till Jim ran off to the toilets.

“I checked up on that Steve Jones you asked about. He was living in the Dock, with his Aunty and Uncle, but they were killed by a drunk. As far as I can see, both parents died after moving to England, but he stayed here for a while.”

“ ‘She’, chwaer fawr.”

“ ‘He’ while she was here, fychan. Now, you sure you want so many new women at your wedding? You have talked through things with the family, but they are YOUR family. What happens, say, if Hywel recognises her? And they are definitely going to make out what Alice is. Where do we go from there?”

“We deal with what happens if and when, love, if and when. Now, Mam and Dad have no problems at all with Alice, and I was planning on using her spare rooms for some of the family, so we just choose who we billet where, and carefully. I was going to put Mam and Dad there, and you two if there is room. Janet’s offered space as well, and so has Andy”

“Andy? The MCP?”

“Andy, the ex-MCP, and, er, Bev, his lady friend.”

I had to run the details past her, and by the time Jim rejoined us she was laughing happily. We agreed, however, that asking Anne to house any of them might be just a little silly. The thought of Aunty Gwen making a pot of tea under the gaze of a statue of the Pope didn’t bear thinking about, not unless we wanted to find ourselves spraying our own tea across the table.

Two days later Dad dropped us off back at the City station, and we were off back home. That was an interesting thought, after the family meeting. I had always thought of home as being the family home, the place of my youth and my upbringing. Whenever anyone had asked if I was on my way home to my place in Dover, I would say “No, I am just going to where I live.”

This had changed. I had my own family, my own personal people, and they consisted of my two men. Dover would never be ‘home” to me, it would always be no more than a town I lived in, but that house I now shared was, indeed, Home, the nest, the warm safe place which held my own little world.

Enid was waiting when we got in, and once again the miracle of the mobile phone meant that the kettle was on. I started to sort through the post as she poured, and as she presented me with a cuppa she asked “And?”

“It went well. The one man I was worried about was so protective it got silly. I think we should be OK. My cousin Ellie is a florist, and she’s offered to provide the flowers free and gratis, that’s how well it went. No, there is only one potential problem, and that’s my cousin Hywel”

“What, a bit anti?”

“No, not that at all. It’s just that he might recognise Steph. It’s one thing dealing with me, as I’m family, and Alice is past his age, but if there is any history there at all it would be best to know in advance. I shall ask Tone to have a word”

CHAPTER 51
Tony was on lates, so I didn’t see him till gone eleven thirty, when a pair of cold thighs slithered into our bed. He asked the obvious questions, I told him the well-worn story, and he seemed satisfied. He promised to contact Steph to find out about Hywel Powell and her.

Yes, I know, but as Uncle Arwel thinks that gold sovereign rings are tasteful jewellery, and a mullet a stylish hairdo, and Hywel shares those tastes, neither can really be expected to notice the joke. Think of poor Arris…

The next day I was back at work, and once more had to go through the whole story with Andy and co, though at least Alice had been given the details by Enid. Typical bloody woman, it didn’t stop her hanging on to every word I told the others and passing comment. I moved the conversation along.

“Dresses, girls. We have three bridesmaids and a matron of honour. I have my eye on a rather nice ivory number, which is fine with most colours, but we have a problem. Arris and Elaine have pretty neutral colouring, Elaine is like me, but Siá¢n is the problem. She’s a real redhead, all white skin and freckles, so any reds or pinks for the bridesmaids will look a bit off. I was thinking a pastel green.”

Andy laughed. “I think I shall go and deal with some customers. I am technically unfitted to this area of expertise”

Anne smiled. “Yes, men miss the subtle aspects”

That from the mistress of offensive gas warfare by fragrance? We settled on a sort of pale green satin, and I e-mailed my sis a link to the fabric so she could run it past and against her wife. Anne was looking a little frayed by this time. As the others went back on the floor, I took her to the kitchen to make a round of teas.

“Not looking too happy, girl?”

She smiled, wearily. ”I suppose I’m just a bit jealous, and a bit, well, I see time running out. Andy is getting really domesticated, you have this, and, well, while I do trust in my Saviour, He doesn’t seem to have provided much for me recently”

“Who were you seeing, Anne?”

“Was it that obvious?”

“Girl, when your make-up and perfume levels go up that much, it’s a reasonably easy assumption that there might be a man around. “

“You noticed that?”

Rather. “Are you OK?”

“Sort of. I have to keep up with my penance, of course.”

“Anne, I am not going to pry, but if this was an…unauthorised relationship, just remember the old saying about how many it takes for a tango”

I was really picking my words with care. Knowing her predilections, something like ‘beating yourself up’ was not the best of all things to say. Indeed, what was there I could say? She was caught in her weird religious loop, and while she had always come across, from the day of my arrival at the branch, as a good person, that loop was dragging her spirits down. I mean, what could I do for her? Take her out clubbing? Get her drunk? This was hard on both of us. Sod it.

“Anne, we value you here, you know that. Apart from our little communication difficulty over Alice, I have never, nobody has ever had a problem with you. It hurts us to see you unhappy. What we can do to help, we will, but in the nicest possible way you are not like the rest of us”

Once again, that weary smile. ”No, I don’t make life easy, do I? But I am what I am, and I believe what I do, and that is the way it is. If the Lord wishes it, that is the way it must be.”

“Oh for god’s sake…er, sorry. So he didn’t want you to actually make some sort of effort? Just sit and wait and it would arrive? What are you doing at work, then, instead of waiting for him to pay the rent for you? Is there no such thing as a social life attached to your church? Look at Andy! All that time wasted on slappers and waving his willy; all he really needed was to go somewhere safe, somewhere neutral and be himself instead of playing an act”

She laughed. “You want me to take up badminton?”

“Na, just find something that indulges a real interest of yours where there are other people about you. Something other than kneeling in church. Look, that is where you meet your sort of folks, OK, but not to talk. ‘Do you pray here often?’ is NOT a good introduction! Sod it, I’m going to have a word with Pat, see if he knows anywhere”.

I might have been wrong, but I thought I detected a little spark of hope deep in her eyes.

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That night, in bed, Tony held me after making love, as my heart rate came down before I went to clean up. He had received a reply from Steph.

“She remembers him from schools rugby, a lock she says. Dad drove lorries locally?”

“Yup, that’s Arwel. Does she have any issues with him?”

“She pointed out that half of the Regional rugby team would be there, so it was unlikely to be a problem, but did ask that you have a word with him beforehand”

“What, warn him?”

“Her point was that if he is aware beforehand, he is more likely to rein in any problems for the sake of the family than if it is dropped in his lap on the day. She has no problem, she is fully out, and she did it with a bang”

Strong woman, stronger than me or Alice, or even Janet, for that matter. I decided to take advice from Dad. Uncle Arwel had set out his family’s view: no nancy boys. That was never a term that could be fairly applied to the redhead.

All I wanted to do was get married to the man I loved, for fuck’s sake, so why did it have to be so complicated?

Tony was chuckling. ”She also made you an offer. She asked if you wanted a band for the reception.”

“Who? Does she play, then?”

“Er, yeah…violin”

“What, like ELO or Curved Air type stuff? Or Hawkwind?”

“Actually…folk music…”

Before I could finish declaring that she could indeed go forth and multiply with her reedly deedly crap, Tony was already laughing himself silly.

Folk music. I would get married to a rock sound track, and I would hand pick the songs. Fucking folk music.

I started to laugh with Tony. He knew me sooooooo well!

The following evening, I made my phone calls, firstly to Pat to ask if he could find somewhere that Anne could be herself rather than a nutter on her knees, and then to Dad.

“Hello, love, I didn’t expect to hear so soon. Nothing wrong, is there?”

“Not necessarily, Dad, but something we need to sort out before the wedding.”

I ran Steph’s story past him. “There’s also Alice. I don’t want her hurt in any way”

“No, love, she is a good…woman, and deserves the best”

Only a slight hesitation this time. He was getting better. “Sarah, I think it is better if you speak to him yourself. Arwel is firmly on your side. Call him first, and listen to him rather than telling him what you want. He is not a stupid man, my brother, but he has strong views. Like father….”

So I rang. “Arwel Powell”

“Sut mae, ewythr Arwel?”

“Hiya Sarah, a surprise but a nice one. What can I do for you? You are being polite, so you want something”

I outlined the problem, and I could almost feel the planet move as he nodded at the other end. “I think I remember the boy myself. Red hair, you say? Mother a bit of a looker, if have the right boy. He’s out the back watching telly, I’ll drag him out.”

A minute later. “Hi Sar, what you want?”

“I have something I need to ask you, Hywel.”

“Go ahead…does it involve wearing a skirt?”

I laughed so much at that vision I farted. “Sort of….but, my dear cousin, definitely not you! Only the girls will be in skirts, I promise. Now, I may have someone you know coming to the wedding.”

“Who’s that, then?”

“Do you remember a Steve Jones?”

“I remember an awful lot of them, you’ll have to narrow it down.”

“Schools rugby, red hair”

“Oh fuck, aye! Evil little fucker, no sense at all in the tackle. Played open side. How do you know him? Is he still such a psycho?”

“He played with Tony, and yes, he is indeed a nutter, I watched him and it was scary. Shit, this is hard work. Hywel, I want an honest answer from you. What do you think I am?”

There was a pause. “You are not asking for me to say ‘my cousin’ so I will have to guess, aye? A good looking woman, whose tits are starting to sag, then”

“Oh you bastard!”

He had got my meaning, though. “Hywel, seriously, you remember what I was before. What does that feel like?”

“Ah, shit, Sar, anyone who meets you and doesn’t understand is too thick to shit”

“So you know I was always a girl?”

“Yes, now I do, we all do, especially after the other night. You make a bloody good mother, girl”

Thank you, Hywel, thank you so much.

“Hywel, I’m not the only one. There will be another like me as matron of honour, she’s called Alice.”

“No problem, Sarah. She’s your friend, at your wedding…hang on. Now, tell me the truth. Steve Jones. You are serious, aren’t you?”

“She’s called Steph now, and she is married to a really nice guy.”

“Are you fucking infectious or what? Fuck!”

There was a long pause at the other end. “You were worried I might be a fuckwit, weren’t you?”

“No, Hywel, I wasn’t. You’ve just proved that to me. I just didn’t want you to be hit with a surprise on the day. I trust you, I just didn’t want you to be sandbagged.”

“Sar, do me a favour. Don’t tell her I am coming. Let me give her the surprise treatment. She was a good player, she deserves respect.”

CHAPTER 52
That was a relief. Neither of the two men was exactly backward in using his fists, and the last thing I wanted was a set to. It would be my day, my guests, my music, my hangover. I might let Tony have a look-in, though.

Alice was happy with the dress choice, though she did mutter a bit about being made into a matron of honour rather than a bridesmaid.

“They don’t come much more virginal than me! I demand my right to be foolish!”

I gathered from that little quip that she might actually be on an up; her mood swings were easing off as she got used to her new blood chemistry, but they were still there. What a group of oddities we were. Two who had had the good fortune to start young, and benefit from that, one who was starting later in life but still looked good, and an aging ex-man who at least benefited from never having done the sort of exercise that would have solidified her masculine body beyond any hope.

And the things we clung to for our sanity. Work, for Janet, and riding and rugby for Steph and me. Alice had had her little beard. All from one other woman’s story, too, she had clung to her sanity and her life with the help of some facial hair. What slender threads we had swung on.

The weeks went by, and we were caught in February, that grey, damp misery with no end in sight, from the middle of January till half way through March. Look, just give me Winter, or give me Spring, not a dreary, drizzling mess that can’t decide which it wants to be, so it opts for being wet and miserable. Jim was down with one of those sniffly colds that aren’t bad enough to keep the child from school, but irritate adults profoundly. Sniff. Sniff. Sniff. Why can they never blow till you nag them to? Then Tony caught it…

I busied myself with the preparations, such a pile of fiddliness. Banns to be read, catering to be sorted (easy; the Sports Club had a hall and a kitchen, and Janet knew somebody who knew someone else…), a cake, dresses to be measured for and ordered, and, of course, my own.

I had an odd moment when I was being measured, a sort of flashback. I realised that I could hardly remember a time when I didn’t wear a bra, and in fact didn’t fill it myself. Obviously, my knickers were a different story, but there was a real dislocation as the tape went around and along my body, a moment when Sam seemed a distant and bad dream, and my body just felt absolutely right.

Other things were moving along, too. Alice took me aside one day at home, full of excitement. She was budding, and just needed to show someone. I assumed she had already shared the news with Enid, and more importantly I realised she would never grow to any size, but it was a start, a real touch of womanhood beyond anything that her choice in clothing could ever achieve. She looked at me, searching for my reaction.

“Sar, this makes it real for me. Enid and you have helped me more than I could ever have hoped for or dreamed of, but this is my body killing the past. Thank you for everything”

“Alice….”

I couldn’t actually think of anything to say, so I just hugged her, which said it for me.

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Pat and Janet called round at the start of March. Over a cuppa for Janet, and a dram for himself, he explained.

“I think I have an opening for your OCD woman, Sarah”

“OD, Pat, not OCD”

“Same thing in my book, lass. I have a CAFOD fund-raising group starting up at my gaff, and I think it is the sort of thing she would be well suited for. I need what you might call a branch secretary for it. Long hours, no pay, lots of shit to sort out, suit a masochist down to the ground”

“You could be right on the mark there, Pat. I’ll sound her out. Now, I have something for you to look at. I am going for a pastel green for the bridesmaids’ dresses, so I thought we could take you along and get you fitted for a matching cassock”

“And you can fuck right off with that idea! You try that, and I’ll make sure I slip ‘obey’ into your wedding vows!”

“Sod that, you bastard! This is an equal-opps household, and always will be”

I was still wondering at their interplay, the way they seemed to fit together, and so, as they muffled up against the cold and the wet and set off into the dark I curtain-twitched. Their hands went out and met, in as natural a way as any other couple. Poor, poor sods. I had satisfied my own curiosity; for their sakes, I decided right then that nobody else needed to know.

I put Pat’s suggestion to her the next day at work.

“So…what do you think, Anne? It’s not bloody badminton, but it will be hard work”

“It actually sounds right up my street, Sarah. Can you let Pat know I’d like to give it a go, if he can use me”

Oh, he can use you OK, just in a rather better way than a certain other priest. I let him know, and a few days later she was in the driving seat.

And so it went. We got through the choc-storm of Easter with minimal casualties, and then my birthday (42. Fuck) and that date was spiralling in on me. I was slowly going mad with the organisational workload, and I just needed a break. You know those moments, when you realise that as much as you have to work, you will work better after a break.

“Tone, I need a weekend away. I need to shake my thang. I need a rally”

Enid and Alice were amenable, so we found a rally that matched his long weekend, and we went and got pissed, and made love a lot, and I finally had the space to think through our wedding. Who was I doing it for? Me, or Tone, or simply to match family expectations? Oh, there were no doubts in my mind about Tony. I loved him deeply and without reservation, and he seemed to return the favour, but did we need to jump through all the fucking hoops? I sounded him out as we lay in our tent that Sunday morning. After a bit of discussion we got to the meat.

“Why are we marrying, love?”

“Because we want to and because we can”

“But is that enough of a reason?”

“Then, to please our families”

“No, not a good reason”

“Then for Jim. You are his mum, but without a legal box-tick, if anything happens to me, he is cast adrift. Suppose my mother goes? Sarah, please understand why I say t this way, but I love you as much as Jim, and I will have him safe. The way the law stands, if both of us go you have no legal claim on him. That would break his heart.

“I am also marrying you because I can’t think of a better way to show the world that I love you”

That was really the two trumps to end the discussion. Jim first, always.

Back at work, I spotted Andy one day with an honest-to-god sandwich box. It held salad For a man whose lunchtime exploits were either a foot-long sub with as much of the trimmings as could be squeezed in, or some ‘flame-grilled’ minced udders in a cotton wool bun, this was odd in the extreme. I investigated, by the subtle means of pointing at it and saying “What the fuck?”

“Healthier, isn’t it?”

“And what if you get the munchies later?”

He looked embarrassed, and pulled out another box. In that one were small sticks of carrot and celery. There was also a small pot of hummus. I grinned.

“Let me guess….Bev?”

“Bev. She puts them out for me last thing at night”

“Hang on…oh, you sneaky buggers! How long?”

“She stays about half the week, we’ve been seeing how it goes. About a month now”

“How do you feel?”

“Can you understand it if I say both tense and relaxed? I l…like her a lot, and she calms me down, shows me what’s important, but at the same time I’m terrified I’ll screw up, go back to the old stupidity, and if I am going to have a chance at kids, I have to get it right”

“Andy, don’t put having kids at the top of the wish list. Just concentrate on being the man it took us so long to find.”

“That’s easy for you to say. I mean, you could always have another with Tony, so you have options I don’t have”

Ouch. That didn’t hurt the way it once did, and that was thanks to Jim, but the pain was still there. Change the subject, Sarah.

“You nearly slipped up there, Andy. You’ve really fallen hard, haven’t you?”

He grinned for a second, then the worried look returned. “Guilty, Sar, guilty as charged. That’s why I am so worried I’ll screw up”

I hugged him. “Andy, from the way she looks at you, she feels the same way, and if she is fiddling with your diet she intends to keep you around. Look: be yourself, that’s all, if she loves you, she loves YOU, and putting any act on will just screw it up”

So, another two off the market. Perhaps Hywel was right, and I was infectious.

CHAPTER 53
It is odd when you have a large task to complete. You look at it at the start, and there is no way it can be done, it’s just too big, but you get on with it because you have no choice. For what seems like an aeon, nothing happens. No matter how much you beaver away, there is no progress, until one day you see a hint of movement. Gradually, you spot the changes, and finally you can actually see the end off in the distance.

That’s the worst bit, for you can then see how much slog is left to beat you down.

The wedding was like that. I hate the things, I really do, honest, Guv. I didn’t have any interest at all in dressing gorgeously, posing in front of my friends and family, eating a meal the size of Liechtenstein and then shaking my tits to decent music before dragging my hubby off for some now fully legal filthiness. I also lie badly.

It was just the preparation that was dragging me down. If it wasn’t for Jim and Enid, and all our friends and colleagues over here, I might have been tempted to let Dad organise everything in some Abergwaun chapel. Never mind, ay?

Anne was looking better and better as she settled into Pat’s little job. I did some reading on the Opus Dei lot, and their basic premise not only fitted with what I knew of her, but also made a sort of sense. The sanctity of daily work, being the best you could while being ‘ordinary’. What a pity it came wrapped up in so much shit, all that whipping and crap. Perhaps, just perhaps, the aid work might let her ease up on herself a little. The chemical warfare seemed to have stopped, at least for now, so the rest of us could breathe again.

I had to get out every so often, just to breathe myself, and forget about catering, cakes and seating plans. That was where Pie was a delight, and I would take Jim up to Langdon Cliffs and let them both off the lead, with sticks to throw and chase, things to poke and sniff, and unfortunately a lot of mud to spread everywhere. A couple of times, I rode the Trek to work and Alice put Jim onto the train to Canterbury with his bike, after school, so we could ride the quiet back roads of the Downs through Adisham and Aylesham to Whitfield and home. He was building real stamina now, as his body hit the edges of puberty, and despite my love of rugby I was really hoping he would take up a less brutal pastime. He was all boy, though, climbing and running whenever he could. One problem I did have was getting him to brake on downhills. Definitely a boy; it seemed I wasn’t THAT infectious.

We were finally getting some warmth and less liquid in the air, as the days drew out and the trees came into leaf. The invasion of waxwings had retreated back to Scandinavia, the first swallows were passing through, and my mood was lifting with the temperature. Look, I live on two wheels, seasons are noticeable.

We had one really, really girly weekend, when my bridesmaids came over for a final dress fitting, and five of us trotted off out for poking and pinching, pinning and tacking. Alice made me smile, in her insistence to Arris that she should get a discount on the dress as she was able to adjust her chest rather than the bodice if the fit was off. We then set about ruining said potential fit by pigging out on a cream tea and cakes, three of us man watching while the other couple evened things out by eying up passing women.

That was, if not a surprise, at least a confirmation of what I had suspected about Alice, her sexuality. She had spent so long in hiding that any liaison would have been risky if not downright dangerous. I collared her while the married pair were off in the ladies’.

“My little girl is starting to relax…”

“I don’t know what you mean, Sarah”

Innocence protested. “I saw you looking at that jogger’s arse, Alice”

“Well, it was a rather nice one, so what was I supposed to do?”

Arris chipped in. “I know another girl who was a little new to men, many years ago, She dove in too quickly, and got burnt quite badly. Isn’t that right, Sar?”

Joe. Yes, indeed, once bitten I had run away, but I knew too well the temptation of being out, of being myself. What exactly was someone like Alice to do? The number of men as sweetly accepting as Tony, or that Steph’s bloke, wasn’t huge, and I couldn’t exactly suggest she trotted off to a badminton club or an Anne-style church social group. To my great sadness, I could see nothing ahead of her but the life of the archetypical maiden aunt. At least Janet had found companionship of a sort, although I could imagine her frustration at being unable to share it with others. I sighed.

“Yes, I did get hurt, but I had friends who saw more clearly than me, or it would have been worse. Not ‘could’, would. Alice, promise us that you will talk to us before doing anything, seeing anyone, oh, you know what we mean”

She smiled. “Look at me, girls. I am a dumpy old frump in a grey wig. What’s to fancy? Anyone that gets into my knickers would get a shock, and if they were after that in the first place, I certainly wouldn’t be after them. Anyway, I have more now than I ever hoped for. I keep telling you that, but you never listen. Of course, as you didn’t let me be a bridesmaid, I don’t get to pick over the spare men like the other girls”

Elaine came back at that point. “Indeed, and all the more to pick over as two of them aren’t on that bus!”

Arris held up a hand. “Scuse me, Miss, can I be excused spare man duties, cause I’ve got enough already?”

Alice laughed out loud at that. “Looks like the MOH will have her work cut out, then!”

That evening, with Tony on nights, we took Enid and a best-behaviour Jim out to Blake’s for a decent meal, Pie asleep in his basket to guard the house. There is a delight in talking naughtiness in front of a child of that age, old enough to join in the innocent parts of the conversation but still too young to catch a slyly-worded reference. He was proud as punch to be in an adult place, being treated almost as a grown-up by the waiters, and as a by-product his presence helped us curb our alcohol abuse. A sort of win-win, then, speaking from the viewpoint of our livers. We tottered back home on our heels, one little man almost asleep as we hit the front door.

Almost. As soon as Pie tackled him, the little sod was awake again.

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Eventually, we had to start rehearsals. I will never understand that bit. As an ordinary wedding-goer as a kid, I just turned up, was directed to a seat, stood when told to and sang what was in the hymnal. Why should it be different as a bride? I mean, I turn up on time, I get walked down to the front with Dad, left with Tony, then repeat what Pat says to me, hold my hand out for the jewellery, and snog him. A few pics, once again following instructions from the professional, and then off to a party. As a fully paid-up biker chick, I have absolutely no need for lessons in partying!

So, there we were, like some bad TV production. Stand here, move there, say this, for fuck’s sake don’t scratch your arse like that on the day, as Pat so succinctly put it. And suddenly, all too quickly, there was nothing to be done. The cake was being constructed. Ellie had the flowers in hand. My dress was ready for me to slip into, as were the bridesmaids’. Hotel space was booked for the overflow we could not accommodate even with two big houses. Catering was to schedule and menus chosen, a taxi firm had cars for us and we had tickets for our flight to Nice, where we would spend a week as a token honeymoon. I had already had my honeymoon, with Jim and Tony on the other side of the world, and I needed nothing more. Tony had found an old-style hotel a short walk from the station that would do us a deal on half-board, and we would have a week doing nothing but the three S’s of a holiday: sun, sea and shingle. Nice’s beaches are not the sandy type.

Oh, silly me, there would hopefully be a lot of a fourth S, of course. Well, traditions must be upheld. I know I am sounding like some crazed nympho, but it is simply that after all those decades of celibacy I was now not only free to do what I had dreamt of, but provided with the best man in the world to do it with. I am not having a vote on that one, the job of TBMITWTDIW is filled.

May was with us, counting down rapidly towards D-Day. We treated Jim to some camping on the bank holiday weekends, as he would miss out on France, and as he was bigger he now rode pillion rather than in a chair, which pleased him. The bikes let us slip through the traffic jams that plague the UK on holiday weekends, and we spent one of them at Corfe, camped just outside the village not far from the steam railway station, walking out to odd sites like the Great Globe and, er, the bird reserve at Arne I hadn’t mentioned to Tony. The second we spent on Exmoor, where I happily wandered along the Doone Valley retracing Lorna’s footsteps. It’s a girl thing.

Jim was certainly well into the camping, with his own insulated mug and kid-sized gaiters for the damp grass. Tony was already teaching him basic map and compass work, and I was almost jealous for a while. They were so clearly made not just one from the other but each for the other, the father and the son clicking so well it was nearly painful to watch. Painful because it was so wonderful, painful because I had never had the chance to do anything similar with my mother.

Then June was on us, and time was short for my surname.

CHAPTER 54
There was a week to go, and Siá¢n, Elaine and our parents were over for the final preparations. The two girls looked edgy, for some reason I couldn’t fathom, but Mam and Dad slotted straight in, especially with Pie duties. Dad walked him so much I swear the dog’s legs got shorter.

One day, while they were doing the Bamps-grandson bit, and Mam was doing some baking, I collared sis and sis-in-law.

“What is up with you two? I am the one who is supposed to be nervous, but you two are twitching every time I get anywhere near you! Talk, or I cut off the chocolate supply”

They looked at each other, Siá¢n with her eyes slightly screwed up, almost a wince. Elaine took her hand, and started off.

“It is not the easiest subject in the world, chwaer fychan. You do know, I mean you joked about it years ago, that neither of us is really in line to give them grandkids. Yes, I know they have taken Jim to their hearts, but…shit, we’ve been talking, the two of us, and well, we might be dykes, but we are still women. We don’t go all bloke just because we prefer someone a bit less hairy.”

“So?” I asked, though I was beginning to suspect what was on their minds. Ticking biological clocks.

“I think you’ve sort of guessed….”

“You want a kid. I can’t see why you are so nervous, it’s a great idea”

“Actually, we were sort of hoping for a matched pair”

I smiled. “You will make two old people very happy if you do, girls. What are you going to do? Sperm donor?”

“Sort of….the turkey baster route and a friend suits us better. We get to pick the genes, sort of thing”

There was something not being said here. Then the elephant in the room tapped me on the shoulder with its trunk, trumpeted and stood on my foot.

“You are fucking joking!”

“No, Sar, we aren’t. I can’t think of a better man, in so many ways. Obviously, there would be no financial cost to him, and any child would be a Powell”

I wondered why not Siá¢n’s name, but I was rather more concerned about Tony’s thoughts on what was a rather disturbing request. I could see their point; they knew his background, they knew he was healthy, and it kept things literally in the family. But, the ramifications…any children would still be Tony’s and, if things went wrong, there could be all sorts of fallout.

“Girls, I’ll run it past him, but, really, I don’t know what the answer will be. I find it odd enough, and it’s not my precious bodily fluids you are after”

Mam came in at that point, so we dropped it, but Jesus wept, that was a weird one. How the hell do you break that to someone nearly your husband? “Darling, could you just fill these two pots for your sisters-in-law. Want a hand?”

One thing it did do, though, was to take my mind off my forthcoming ordeal. Four days and counting.

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Arwel had sourced a twelve-seater minibus, and the next day he was outside our door asking for the directions to the ‘bed and breakfast’ we had arranged. By B and B, of course, I meant the network of safe houses that had been offered. I had ended up keeping Mam and Dad in our place, leaving space for Steve and Arris’ family, while Elaine, Sian and the two girls went to stay with Alice and Enid. Janet took Aunty Gwen and Uncle Gethin, while Arwel, Hywel and Ellie’s boyfriend Jon took up the spare room and floor space at Andy’s. Pat had opened his own door for Tony, just to keep alive that pretence that we were moving into a shared bed only on marriage.

That left two things to sort….and while I have only a vague idea of what the boys got up to, I do know that my hen night involved a very large volume of ingested alcohol, starting at Wetherspoon’s above the Old High Street in Folkestone, pausing at the eat-all-you-can oriental buffet just down the road from it, and finally finishing off in a sleazy rock club on Grace Hill that I knew stayed open till bloody stupid o’clock.

Enid, Gwen and Mam volunteered to baby sit the four young’uns, and we made quite a crowd, and I am going to strain my memory here to list who was there.

Me.

Janet.

Arris, of course.

Alice, in truly silly shoes.

Anne (yes, really! And she drank alcohol!).

Elaine.

Siá¢n.

Bev.

Suzy, who was definitely on a mission to trap, as was Karen.

Chelsea and Alicia, as they might have been with parents who could spell.

Ellie, in the lowest cut top I have ever seen worn without the benefit of tit tape.

Stephanie, who had arrived just in time to meet us at the first pub, and who was rather astonishing in her dedication to real beer and curry.

Now, I think some colleagues of Tony joined us part way through, but my memory is impaired for some reason. I know we ended up in the rock club, and there was a band, and we danced, or at least some of us did, and I can remember a sort of deep and partially meaningful discussion about great bass players with some spotty kid trying to get into my knickers. Sorry, sonny, it took me eighteen years before I got into them myself.

We drank various liquids, danced ourselves sweaty to the band and the disco, and ate profoundly unhealthy substances, even Bev the diet queen.

“I thought you were into rabbit food?”

“For him, Sar, for him. I want him fit”

“For the badminton?”

“Well, for one sort of shuttlecock….”

What is it about women dancing that makes men think they want their company? I like to dance with a nice man, when the mood takes me and, of course, when said man is Tony, but most of the time, when we dance, it is purely for the joy of the dancing. Good music should make you feel, make you burn to get into it, either to play along or to get up and move, and that is what good rock is all about, the urgency, the passion, the ENERGY that grabs you and pulls you out onto the dance floor to become part of the sound.

That doesn’t mean you are looking for some bloke to stick his body into your thang-shaking space. Guys, take a hint. Many of us get round in a little circle and dance over our handbags because, yes, we DO want to keep you out.

Just the music, and the movement, and the moment.

There were idiosyncrasies in the group. Steph astonished me with her passion, hair going everywhere; Alice and Janet were suitably sedate, and I think sensibly and alliteratively sober; Suzy and Karen were on the pull, while Elaine and Siá¢n were brushing them off by the half-dozen. Chelsey and Aleishya were in full ‘look but don’t touch, little boys’ strut, while Bev and Arris were just looking after me and enjoying the night. Ellie spent the latter part of the evening trying NOT to shake her thang, because the thang in question kept trying to climb out of her top. Silly girl.

Anne was, in the end, crying drunk. I don’t mean depressed, but that ‘I love you, you’re my best mate’ kind of maudlin silliness that makes for dreadful hangovers, of both types. Eventually, at the rock club, she fell asleep in a corner seat, and as the night came to an end, Bev undertook to see her home by taxi.

That was when I realised that the girls had been quite clever. Despite the hours of drinking, and the silliness, and the fact that I was pissed, I wasn’t really that bad. Steering me from dance to dance, from oriental buffet to burger van, had allowed me to get rather drunk, but not absolutely smashed. In a moment of clear thought, like a break in the clouds before the rain rushes in, I suspected that things might be rather different with my beloved.

Why do you think we planned our hen and stag nights for a couple of days before the actual wedding, rather than its eve?

I remember some very old-fashioned looks from the trio of old ladies when we returned, and they weren’t all directed at me. Alice did her usual thing of looking innocent and going “What?”, but Enid simply gave her a hug and asked if she wanted to use the electric foot-spa when they got home.

I was going to save this till tomorrow, but hey....

CHAPTER 55
Saturday morning, eight o’clock, and I had been sitting awake in my dressing gown since five. Mam and Arris had tried to tempt me with breakfast, but some toast and a gallon of tea was all I could face. Then, of course, I started to worry about needing to have a pee in the church. Arse.

It was all laid out in the bedroom. An ivory gown, boned bodice to support my saggy bits, lace to throat and wrist, skirt gently flaring to the front so I could walk, and long behind to give the two boys something to carry, the veil a pre-Raphaelite affair of a circlet of flowers to hold the slightly stiff material in place. Matching satin court shoes with a three inch heel, low enough to dance in but giving enough of a strut to make the gown move as I walked, and …suitable underwear and stockings. My mother had donated a single strand of pearls, and a small sapphire pendant to complete the rhyme, and the two girls had already done my hair in a French plait to allow the simple veil and circlet to sit on my head.

Sod it. The problem was that while I had no doubts whatsoever about Tony, and how I felt, there was a teenaged boy sitting in the back of my mind yelling “Fake!” Joe was there too, as were the two coppers, and I was just starting to get the shakes. How could I do this to Tony? He deserved a real woman. I had till one o’clock, but I doubted I could make it to five past eight without breaking down.

It was Dad who came to check on me, and when he saw my trembling he sat down by me on the edge of the bed and laid his arm across my shoulder, drawing my head down to his. He kissed the top of my head, and I felt the strength still there in his arms.

“Beth sy’n bod, Sar, fy nghariad?”

How could I tell this man who had done so much for me over so many years that I was feeling a fake? “Just nerves, Dad, just stage fright”

“More than that, I think, love. You may be a girl, but you are still like your Dad. You don’t think you deserve that man of yours, do you?”

“Dad, are you some sort of mind reader?”

He laughed gently. “I was the same, my love. I was marrying the most beautiful girl I had ever known, ever seen, and I was just a dock worker, someone who fought too much and wasted his money. How could I load that onto the shoulders of the angel who had agreed to marry me? My own dad had words, he could see where I was going, and he just reminded me that I would have to live the rest of my life knowing I had thrown it all away, or….or just accept that if she loved me I must have some value above what I could see in myself.

“He took me to the Chapel himself, and he stood by me, and your Mam came in and I fell in love all over again, and he was right, and we have never been out of love since. Now, I am a covetous man, despite the Commandment, and I covet a new son, a very good man I am sure will be the son I never really had but always wanted.

“I lost a son, but I gained the most beautiful, wonderful daughter any man could dream of. She is so wonderful that she has found me a new son of my own. All she has to do is walk into a Church today and say ‘I do’. Can she do that for an old man who loves her?”

Alice had knitted his cardigan. It was very absorbent. After I washed my face again, we set to work. At quarter to one, the cars were there, along with Ellie and the flowers and four children. Steve, having followed our suggestion about his Scottish connections, had chosen to appear in the full rig, and therefore little Stevie and Jim were fitted out in their own little kilts, which would be the only time I would see Jim in a skirt, he had told me. The two little flower girls Suzy and Ali were in miniature versions of the bridesmaids’ dresses, and my heart was somewhere between my ears. For one mad instant I wanted to pop back indoors and get my heart-rate training monitor to see if I hit max during the ceremony, but Dad had my arm and we climbed in.

Mam went in, and we waited for ‘our tune’. Dad stood at the door with me, in front of our little cortege, and as the organist started he walked me down the aisle. I caught odd glimpses to the sides: uniforms galore; Hywel and Arwel with new haircuts; Alice and Enid, separated by the aisle, in tears. In front of me Pat stood smiling, and with their backs to me were one big man, and one bigger Highland warrior. Dad left me next to my lover, raised my veil and stepped back to take his seat. Pat didn’t just smile, his whole face lit up.

“It is customary to start this ceremony, this holy sacrament, with the words ‘dearly beloved’, but never before today have I felt those words to be so true. You people here today are indeed, my beloved friends, as you are loved by our Lord above, who I am sure is smiling in perfect happiness to see two such miracles of His creation join together as one.

“For that is what marriage is, a completion, where two individuals, with all their failings and mortal weaknesses come together for mutual love, and support, and greater strength. And joy, let us not forget joy. The apostle wrote that there were three great things, and while the translations differ, they are Faith, which I will leave for another day, and Hope, and what has been rendered as both ‘Love’ and ‘Charity’. Both are fair words for the concept, where charity is not that ritual dropping of a coin in a tin but the true understanding of a common humanity, a love for your neighbour, your enemy, your partner in life. From true love comes true charity, and from both comes the greatest of joys, that of being loved oneself.

“Before me I see two people I know well, and two people whom I love deeply as friends. They are also two people who love each other, and today we will manifest and celebrate that love in the greatest sacrament God has given us, that of the union of two of His souls in matrimony

“Tony, please repeat after me. I Anthony George Hall”

“I Anthony George Hall”

“Take thee, Sarah Marie Rebecca Joanne Powell”

“Take thee, Sarah Marie Rebecca Joanne Powell”

“As my lawful wedded wife, to have and to hold, to love and to honour, for richer and for poorer, for better and for worse, in sickness and in health, forsaking all others and cleaving only unto thee, till death us do part”

And Tony repeated, and I did the same, and then Pat asked for the rings. Steve grinned and, took them out of his sporran. Then each of us said that wonderful phrase

“With this ring, I thee wed; with my body, I thee worship”

I swear Pat was a little moist in the eyes by this time.

“Now, I have two more things to do before I kiss the bride. Firstly, if there is anyone here who knows of any just cause or impediment for which reason this marriage cannot take place, let them speak now or forever hold their peace!

“No? Good! Then I now pronounce you man and wife in the eyes of God and the world. You may kiss the bride”

So Tony did as he was told, and Pat took his turn, and we proceeded back out to the front of the church past grinning men, and sobbing women, and, indeed, one or two sobbing men, my father for one. Even Uncle Arwel was wiping a tear. As I left, I spotted a stranger by the church door, clapping softly. Queen bitch, Margaret Price-Thomas. As I recognised her, she just mouthed “Alice invited me” and smiled warmly.

We had the photographs, and threw the rice, and then it was into the cars for the short trip to the reception at the Sports Club, for the speeches and the drinking, and possibly the ritual punch up and knee trembler behind the back door.

Oh, yes, Janet successfully fought off Bev for the bouquet.

The food was good, the wine was flowing, and then Thor stood up to make the obligatory allegedly humorous speech.

“Ladies and gentlemen, this is a day exceptionally long in the making, as I know from being there right at the start. Once upon a time, two young men ventured to the far West, where strange food and stranger people in beautiful lands tempted them with alcohol, music and bloody good biking roads. Once there, like Odysseus, they were ensnared by beautiful sirens, one of whom is sitting over there with our three kids. You see, unlike that Greek so and so, I didn’t manage to escape.

“Time passed, and both of my dear friends now joined together had tragedy enter their lives. They suffered more than anyone should ever have to, but nevertheless there was still a spark that Alison and I could see in each of them. Two badly-broken people still managed to outshine almost everyone else we knew. So, one night, we decided to see if we could give Fate a bit of a slap in the chops

“It nearly didn’t come off, because as anyone who knows her can testify, our brand new Mrs Hall is no push over. But, with some patience, and a lot of love, we seem to have got our friends back on course. Then again, we had to. Alison and I had run out of groceries, so this is the only way we could afford to feed ourselves and our brood this weekend

“Ladies, gents, please raise your glasses. I give you Mr and Mrs Hall, Sarah and Tony!”

CHAPTER 56
Cheeky Alice had even managed to squeeze Margaret onto the reception guest list without me noticing, so she was sitting smiling fondly with the old tart as more speeches came and went.

My father made a censored version of his earlier speech to me, and I realised that while it had been heartfelt, he had been preparing it for some time. The disco struck up, and my husband and I did the traditional thing on the floor, before I disappeared to the changing rooms to get out of my beautiful dress and into something better suited to serious dancing, as I intended to get well and truly sweaty later.

When I returned, jackets and ties were off, and Tone was out of his morning suit and into his own dancing kit. The disco was still reasonably sedate, and Janet was actually waltzing with Pat, apparently having abandoned stealth. Steph and her husband were similarly stylish, and I realised that both were actually natural dancers, her lean and leggy height meshing perfectly with his almost balletic grace and fluidity of movement. Karen, Suzy and Anne were deep in conversation with colleagues of Tony, and Andy and Bev were in that shuffling embrace where you feel you have to get up and dance, but you are without the slightest clue as to what you are actually meant, formally, to be doing. Just getting up, holding the one you love, and shuffling round is enough.

I was pulled into dances with Dad, and Steve, and Arwel and Hywel separately, and Geoff, Steph’s husband, and of course Andy, and a stupidly happy Pat. When I rested for a few minutes, Margaret joined me. I hugged her.

“Thank you for coming. Alice was sneaky there, but I have never forgotten the grace you showed at my interview”

“Me? Grace? I normally get called things like ‘that bitch’!”

“Well, in my case, it was ’queen bitch’”

She laughed. “You impressed me. You walked in as you wanted to be seen, and when I pulled you up on that, I was faced down”

“I was shitting myself when you did that!”

“Yes, but you stayed. Pity that nasty little worm got his hooks into you that day”

“Well, I had a lot to learn”

“Yes, you did, Sarah, and from the looks of things you are a good student. You have a wonderful man there, and friends most people can only dream of. I watched your family, as your father spoke, and they were entirely with him, and with you, even the two bouncer types. And, more than that, you have made two old lady chemists happy.

“I’ve been watching Alice, and the life in her is astonishing. For that alone, I would wish you well. Thank you”

“Thank Tony’s mother Enid for that one”

I told her an edited version of Enid’s pushing of Alice’s change, and when I got to the bit where the doctor had thought they were lesbians Margaret laughed so hard she had to excuse herself and go to the ladies’.

The dancing went on, the drinks went down, and people got friendly on the dance floor. Just before the band was due to come on, Pat and Janet asked if they could help with the kids.

“I think our job here is done” he said, “and it would be wise to get the little ones off home before the serious drinking starts”

Tony smiled at that. “That would be lovely. Now, you know where I keep my bottles….”

“Oooooooh yes!” grinned Pat.

“There are some videos for them, and a collection of treats, but be sparing” I warned, and they were off. I exchanged a look with Tony, but I kept my counsel. I scanned the room, looking for any problems, or indeed any gossip, and was surprised to see Arwel deep in conversation with Alice. I wandered over.

“Have you two been properly introduced yet?”

Alice smiled. “I think we have managed to introduce ourselves rather adequately. Arwel here was telling me about how things were at home before you…found yourself”

“Aye, Sarah, and before you start getting worried, I know what Alice here is, another one of your sort, isn’t it? She’s got balls, she has, doing it like this”

It was a moment after Alice blew wine out of her nose before he realised his gaffe.

“No, girl, I meant that she is what I was talking about before. Not some woofter, I can see that. She’s a bloke in a dress, but she’s not, if you see what…oh, for fuck’s sake, I know what I mean, and I am sure you do too, so stop giving me the Look”

I knew what he meant, of course, and I was touched that he was making such an effort to keep my day special. No, there was no sudden onset of lust, but the two of them seemed to have connected as friends, and that pleased me. My family were doing more than I had imagined their best could be.

The disco fell silent at last, and the band came out. Tony and I had, of course, gone for a biker-style rock and blues band, and as the older guests went into the smaller bar to spare their hearing, we Children of Metal prepared to get seriously down and dirty on the dance floor. I idly wondered how high Steve’s kilt might fly, and if it would fly high enough, but then slapped myself mentally. I was a Married Woman now, and lusting after blonde Norse deities in kilts was now off the menu. Besides, Dave, Tony’s chunky prop friend, had brought his wife, so I had to content myself with my own delicious hubby, shame.

Their first track had obviously been scripted for me, and as ‘Caroline’ was hammered out I got down into the boogie, Hywel, Steve, Arris, Ellie and Tony forming the circle with me. Track after excellent track followed, and then there was a booming guitar intro I recognised as the opening of Hawkwind’s ‘Kings of Speed’ and onto the little stage stepped Steph, with a violin, cable trailing.

The solo break came, and she was really into it, legs wide and right arm flying along with her hair. Fuck, she was good, and for a moment I regretted not taking her up on the offer to provide a band; then I realised that she was really a folky, and I had been right. Bloody square dances, no ta.

She stayed with them for a couple more songs, and her manic duels with the lead guitarist were fantastic. I mean, ‘Enter Sandman’, with a VIOLIN solo? Ye gods.

When she came off, she got a roar of applause, and a truly toe-curling kiss from her other half that brought another round of applause. I slipped away to the ladies’ and had to retreat in a hurry as I realised firstly that the noise from the next cubicle was a couple getting to know each other, and then that said couple were Suzy and Hywel. That would keep me in gossip for months! I didn’t have anyone to tell, though; Anne had gone home not long after the band had started, confessing (how apt) that she had the telephone number of a rather earnest young Customs Officer, Margaret had thanked us all and after a kiss and a hug taken herself off to her hotel, and Arwel and Alice were deeper in conversation than ever. Bev appeared to be trying to suck Andy’s tongue out of his head, Steph and hubby were copying my parents and canoodling to a slow dance---oh, I am absolutely sure you get the picture.

All I had left was my own man. As the band wound the night down with some slow and smoochy tunes I decided to leave Suzy and Hywel to their tryst and just enjoy my own. The floor was full of couples, old, new and very new, and I just settled into his arms as he swayed me round. This wasn’t the fulfilment of my life, this was just the confirmation. We had our lives together ahead of us, as Pat had said, two souls doing our best to melt together into one unit, one partnership.

Yes, I was happy. It’s allowed.

Eventually, it was time. The bar was closed, the band had wound down and, after a round of applause and an encore of ’I would do anything for your love’ had started to pack up. Taxis took those who needed them, and the rest of us, in small and less than sober groups, had started the walk back to our homes or rooms. Arwel had actually kissed Alice on the cheek as they went their separate ways, and I walked back wrapped in my lover’s arms as Arris walked with me, likewise protected and enfolded, as did my sister and sister in law. The next day, Elaine would drive Tony and me to Gatwick for our flight to Nice, but for now it was our own bed.

I slipped the key into the door, and we entered the quiet and dimly lit hallway. As Tony went to the kitchen to make some tea, Elaine hissed to me.

“Der i weld…ssshh!”

Come and see…Arris, Siá¢n and I edged up to the living room door, to see Pat slumped, asleep, at an angle on the settee. Cuddled up against him, his arm around her shoulders and her hand actually inside his unbuttoned shirt, was Janet.

CHAPTER 57
I slipped into the living room with a quilt, and, as gently as I could, laid it over the two.

There was an empty bottle of wine on the side table, as well as a part bottle of Auchentoshan single malt, and I pitied them for the hangover that lay in wait. As I placed the quilt over them, Janet grunted and snuggled closer into her priest. A bit naughty getting sozzled with kids in the house, but there was no way I could stay angry at them. Let them have their little moment.

We congregated in the kitchen for our cuppa, just as Mam and Dad arrived. I closed the living room door, and brought them straight through.

“Janet and Pat have put the kids nicely to bed, but they are spark out in the living room. I have given them some bedding, so let’s just leave them to sleep. I think a cuppa, then off to bed for all of us. What time do you want the taxi, sis?”

“Ah, give us half an hour for the tea and then we’ll be off. I’ve been counting units, so I should be fine for the drive tomorrow. Noon should do you?”

“Yeah, fine. Thank you all for today, I really can’t tell you what it means”

Mam laughed. “You forget something, cariad. Everyone else here already knows what it means from the inside, so just keep smiling and we’ll understand”

That night, or rather early morning, I lay beside my new husband watching my life, my lives, unreel before me. Pat had been so right, nothing ended, we began. I fell asleep mumbling odd French phrases to myself in practice for the afternoon.

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I had set no alarm, but that was redundant when we got child-bombed a little after sunrise.

“Morning, Jim, can you collar Stevie and the girls, there are people asleep in the living room, so please don’t wake them.”

Off he trotted, and I realised that there was a smell of bacon coming up the stairs. I grabbed a nighty for the sake of my parents and wrapped myself in dressing gown and slippers before heading downstairs. Now, I know this was not what most people think of as a wedding breakfast, but it suited me well, and in a few hours we would be in the South of France, so I had no worries.

Besides the children, there were four adults in the kitchen, my parents and the naughty couple. Janet fixed me with a challenging look, almost a ‘what are you looking at?’ stare, and I realised she was awaiting some sort of critical remark. I winked at her, and carried on loading the tray my mother had prepared for the ‘bridal suite’. Pat, on the other hand, just gave me enough of a level stare to catch my eye, at which point he mouthed a silent thank you.

I had no idea what the hell they were going to do. The one thing I could be reasonably sure of, knowing Pat’s sincerity in his faith, was that there would be no ‘fornication’. He was too wound up in his religion and his vows to step into a sexual relationship with anyone. There seemed no way out for either of them. It must have been acutely painful watching almost everyone else pairing up and smiling, dancing, touching…that waltz had been their only public show of affection, indeed the only one possible for them.

Our packing was done already, apart from all those little last minute extras, such as the toothbrush I was using after breakfast, but before that we saw off Janet and her: her lover, that was the only word I could come up with. I could only get a few snatched words with her as I hugged her good bye, but I did my best to get across my love and hope for her. I think she felt it.

Tony was right, after all, in not trusting her. I don’t mean that in a bad way, but in his work-developed sensitivity to the “wrongness” in people, he had picked up on her desperation. I had some idea of how utterly lonely she must have been, and that pain had been what had caught Tony’s senses. Alice had triggered so many things, it seemed.

Oh, how utterly shitty life can be!

Anyway, we had better things to think of. There was a steady stream of visitors to the house that morning, all wanting to wish is a last farewell as the honeymoon check-in approached. I was quite touched to see how Bev appeared to have merged parts of her body with Andy, as she was never more than six inches away, and while Hywel just grinned at me Arwel was keen to know how soon we could be back over home.

“I was telling that Alice how nice it is round Bosherston, and I thought if you were down in the Summer, like, we could show the boy the beach at Barafundle. No sheep there, so the dog would be OK, yeah?”

My big uncle was nervous, plain as could be. There was clearly some connection between him and Alice, but I couldn’t see it being anything physical. Both of them knew very well what was behind the padding, and I could only imagine that Arwel was suffering that odd double exposure, where a transwoman flickers in and out of reality before a nervous man. He sees the body jumping from woman to tranny while all the time he hears someone he likes, and how he deals with that confusion is a mark of his strength of character.

I suspected that he felt he had found a friend, no more, but her clothing was short-circuiting his composure. Nevertheless, he was trying, and I was proud of him.

It was time. I hugged Jim and told him he had to be good for Bamps and Nana Sioned, and of course Nana Enid and Aunty Alice, and with our cases wedged into the boot, we were off to Gatwick with Elaine and Siá¢n. Once we were onto the A20, Elaine started.

“Fuck me, chwaer, what the hell was gong on there with the priest?”

“Two lonely people getting some warmth, was all”

Tony nodded. “I can see now where I was getting the ‘bollocks’ signals from. I think she was about to have a breakdown, that’s why I was thinking there was a lie in there. Poor girl”

Did I say I loved the man? “What to do, love? I think we have no choice but to keep quiet and let them sort it out”

He was nodding, and Siá¢n chipped in. “I don’t know them any better than you, but they obviously care for each other. Nothing we can do but step away a little and watch their backs for them”

Did I ever say I thought my sister in law was lovely? Yes, I did. And she is.

Gatwick was its usual manic self, but Elaine insisted on parking in the extortionately-priced short-term car park and coming in with us. The entrance was really crap, as despite multiple ‘No Smoking’ notices, all doorways were packed with chain-smoking junkies, lots of whom were clearly airport staff. The ground was covered in dog ends and decaying filters, despite the many waste bins available. Delightful.

Thankfully, the inside was better, and after a bit of queuing, our bags were dropped and we were given quite a tearful farewell by the girls before we queued once again for security.

Tony held my hand as the little Airbus took off, not because he needed to but because he wanted to, and because he could. We made our way down across France, past the Alps and their snows, and then suddenly we were turning out over a beautifully blue sea, and running along the coast towards our airport. There were stupidly large hotels along the shore, and then the clank of the gear coming down sat us upright in our seats as we settled with one small wriggle onto the runway at Nice.

Our luggage wasn’t lost, nor broken, and there was a bus service right into the middle of town. Tony had done his research, and we got off the bus at the station. There was rather an unpleasant walk through a smelly tunnel, down Avenue Durante, and then we were at our hotel. Black wrought iron balconies, brass-trimmed glass doors, it faced onto a pretty crappy street. We checked in, Tony’s time working the French border coming in handy, and we were led out the back door…to a courtyard with a small fishpond, and a fountain, and palm trees, and it was gorgeous, so I kissed him. The porter raised an eyebrow, and Tony just grinned and said something like “Loon dumyell”, at which our man beamed, and Tony got a handshake and I got kissed cheeks. Tony explained later that what he had said was “honeymoon”

Our room was in an annex facing onto the little courtyard. We were away from traffic noise, and there were tables round the little pond where we had our first married meal apart from Mam’s breakfast, and the reception. We ate, and we drank, and then I insisted we walk down Durante to Promenade des Anglais, where we crossed the traffic and a cycle motorway to a beach of flat white pebbles in the twilight. I took my man in hand and walked him down onto the stones, where I made him kick off his shoes, then walked him further till the warm water lapped at his knees, and I kissed my husband as the cars roared past and the water surged up and down our legs.

Not only could I happily get used to this, I fully intended to.

CHAPTER 58
Breakfast was not wonderful, but then we didn’t really expect something amazing in France. Nonetheless, there was a rose on our table for me.

Today was a day for ambling and rambling, and if that happened to be by way of a few French bakeries and cake shops, so much the better. We took a backpack each, with towel and costume, water and sunscreen, and cameras, of course. I was surprised when Tony led me back through the smelly tunnel, and then through some nondescript little back streets right into the middle of the Kremlin. That’s what it felt like, suddenly being presented with a miniature version of St Basil’s.

“I did quite a bit of research before I chose this trip, love” he laughed. “I have another surprise for you round the corner”

It turned out there was another railway station hidden away, a tourist line that led up into the hills, and he booked us a day trip for later in the week. A ride out, lunch, a stroll around in the sun. What had happened to my idea of lazing on a beach in between browsing the boutiques, hmm? We made our way back through the maze of one-way streets to the edge of the sea again, and I was amused firstly by the painted dachshunds on the kerbs indicating where you could let your dog shit near a drain the mess could be rinsed down, and secondly by my first sight of the typical Nice woman, looking innocently off into the distance as her little rat on a string shat right in the middle of the footpath.

I could imagine the conversation. “Dog? What dog? The one whose lead I’m holding? Oh, where the hell did THAT come from?”

Once again we crossed the road, and there was a ‘free’ beach near a broken bit of old pier, where some chairs sat empty on the pebbles. Tony did the magic towel dance to slip into his trunks, while I showed him how much easier it was to get into a two piece when wearing a skirt and T-shirt. He skipped off, still wearing his sandals on the hot shingle, to do his manly ocean thing, while I took a while to look around. Any lingering doubts I had about him wanting to come here to ogle topless French women vanished. There were naked tits everywhere, and I mean everywhere, but their owners looked as if they had been preserved in the same way as a good kipper, by smoking. Skins like shoe-leather sizzled in the sunshine, and I observed several women whose breasts only followed several seconds after they rolled their bodies over to burn the other side. And I thought my own tits were getting droopy.

It’s a girl thing, comparing your body with every other woman’s, and when their entire clothing consists of one small triangle and some string, it’s all too easy to get bitchy. Play nicely, Sarah!

Tony was back, with something in his hands. “I don’t know if it’s the way the pebbles give out onto sand out there, but there are coins everywhere! I’ve got enough here for about four pints later!”

So, those were his priorities. Beer won out over nearly naked French strumpets, at least when their average age seemed to be about ninety! I dried him, and oiled his back. That brought back a memory, of the day we first really got together, me washing his back n the bath that afternoon, my blouse so wet I had to change it. The feel of his solid muscles under my fingers was nice even without that memory, of course, but for a minute I was consumed utterly with thoughts of how far this man had brought me. I kissed the back of his neck, tasting the salt, and he murmured “What’s that for, love?”

“Because I want to and because I can, and because I love you”

I dashed off then, and threw myself into the water, and went looking for beer money.

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We ate in Old Nice that night, a sea food extravaganza that left an impressive pile of shells and carapaces, and then we walked out to the far side of the harbour, where the land rose up above rocky pools and private swimming areas. We looked back to the town over private ‘yachts’ the size of cross-Channel ferries, and as we shared a smooch I realised that almost everyone else there was male. We’d walked out to a gay cruising area, it seemed, so with a wry smile at the attention my boy was getting I led him back through the old town to the boulevards and back streets that took us to our hotel, where I proceeded to forcibly remove all of his clothing and ravish him mercilessly.

Well, perhaps not forcibly, but with the memories that had surfaced at the beach it was certainly quickly!

No, not quickly in that way.

Our train trip was magical. It was on what can only be called a rail bus, but I wondered what all the fuss was about as we rumbled and whined through suburbs of Nice. There was a running commentary in French which Tony translated for me, and I was just wondering if the shops would still be open when the uninspiring urban scenery was replaced by a spectacular gorge, with tunnels and a tumbling river. That was more like it! The gorge slowly opened out, and we passed a village called Annot, where huge boulders lay everywhere, the houses built right up against them. It was gorgeous, and I was happily slumped against a husband who knew when to give up window seats when we arrived at out lunchtime stop, Entrevaux. A great triangular flake of rock held the perfect miniature castle at the top, with a zigzag pathway to it up the front of the peak. Cameras were clicking and chirping away all through the little train as people rushed to get just the right viewpoint before the train pulled into the station.

We were herded along to our lunch stop like good little tourists by a guide waving a stick with a little tassel and, to be honest, I have eaten better, but also a lot, lot worse. A gizzard salad, I kid you not, followed by steak, chips and a lettuce leaf, and then…oh yes, chocolate mousse full of little bits of chocolate that had not been moussed or ground or whizzed, or whatever it is.

But, before that, we had cheese. Odd, the French, they eat their food in the wrong order. We shared a jug of pink wine, well chilled, and after strolling through the almost claustrophobic village we set out up the series of ramps that leads to the citadel, perched on its rock. Tony swore at me, at one point, because I had slipped a hydration bladder into my rucksack so could drink at any time, and he had to keep fishing for a bottle, but then my mother raised neither of her daughters to be stupid.

I write something like that now, and I do it without thinking. It is only when I realise what exactly I have put down that the reaction sets in. I don’t know if I will ever be free of that baggage, even though I have always known what I am. To be honest, I don’t know if I would ever want to be free of the knowledge, the understanding of what it means to be somebody born wrong. I am truly my own person, handmade and newly minted, and Pat’s sermon will always speak to me.

If I had been born the way my soul says I should have been, would I have been as strong as I know myself to be? Would I have been able to help someone like Alice; could I even have understood the hell she was living?

Back to the there and then. We panted our way up, and stumbled our way down, and then Tony really surprised me. I mean, with Russian cathedrals and narrow gauge railways he had certainly caught my attention, and miniature castles on blades of rock were keeping it going, but my man had trumped all that.

There was a museum in the village.

A museum of motorcycles. Sun, castles, spectacular scenery, chocolate, and now bikes. We wandered happily around for what seemed like minutes, but it was only the fact that I had set the alarm on my phone that got us to the train on time for our return to Nice. We ambled back to our hotel slightly footsore, and ate some lamb shanks that Tony said were called ‘mice’ in French, and I thanked him properly that evening. We were, after all, on honeymoon.

The days did run out, of course, and we had to pack up and trudge through the Tunnel of Piss to the station and our bus back to the airport. There was the usual stampede for seats, and then we were off, only half an hour late, and I was still, after all that, sneaking happy glances at my rings.

The sneaky sod had done it again, of course, and chosen a flight that would be met by his mates, including Steph, and we just had to natter and compare notes. That was cut short, when Tony reminded me that two people were awaiting us in the concourse. So, we shared our goodbyes around, and pushed the trolley through the two sets of doors to where Alice waited with Jim. He was clutching an unrolled banner wider than he was tall, which just read “Mum and Dad”, while Alice hung on to the lead of an exuberant Pie.

I found my other little present when we got home. It seems Steph and co had been at our bags before we got them, and while Tony’s bag now held a copy of “A Bluffer’s Guide to Sex”, mine just held a card with multiple signatures, and the words “Welcome Home Mr and Mrs Hall”

Yes, I did cry.

CHAPTER 59
Catching up. That is always the thing that can delight or appal you, as you work through the mail and the gossip that has piled up on the doorstep.

It was always nice to see Alice, though, because it warmed me every time I saw how completely she had settled into her real life. That was the key, the missing word; this was no ‘test’, she was simply out and being herself. The test, the trial, had been the years she had hidden away from the world.

Mam, of course, had the kettle on as soon as we hit the edge of Dover. What is it about the French that they can’t make tea? Before unpacking, we sat with our cups and answered an unceasing flow of questions from Jim as Pie rolled round the floor with a squeaky toy. Jim kept asking, though, so we plugged the camera into the telly and played the memory card through for him. As I set it up, I noticed the picture frame standing on the TV: my parents had taken a print of our wedding photo and had it framed. I almost didn’t recognise myself, but I knew every inch of the man standing by me.

Mam also had a roast for us that evening, good Welsh lamb, and Enid called round to join us for a true family meal. I had an odd thought, ‘I could get used to this’, before realising that I already was. My own real life.

Once Jim was packed off to his bed, we were able to start the real gossip. Alice dropped the first bombshell.

“Bev’s pregnant” she said with a grin. So typical of her, just to drop that one on us with no build up, but I was thrilled.

“How long has she…?”

“She confirmed it a couple of days ago, but she was cheeky about it”

She started to giggle. “Walks into the shop when she knew Andy would be out front, asks him if she can get staff discount and hands him the test kit and the cash!”

It was clear from the unspilled drinks that the others already knew.

“What would she have done if it had come up negative?”

“Ah, we had already done the test together the day before, and it was a clear positive. So, Andy just stands there with his mouth open, then grins, and says ‘Church or Registry Office?’ and off he goes on his break to look for a ring with her”

Mam was chuckling now. “Well, I have heard of more romantic proposals of marriage!”

I gave my husband a Look. “Yes, so have I, but if I remember correctly, mine was ‘I suppose I better give you this’ “

Tony looked embarrassed. “Well, I was nervous. Turns out I was right to be, I still haven’t fully recovered my hearing”

“Having second thoughts, are you?”

It is still an odd feeling getting a sloppily passionate kiss in front of my parents. They didn’t seem to mind, though, and neither did I, especially when I saw my Dad take Mam’s hand for a squeeze.

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Work was a shock, of course, back into uniform and trying to remember how not to kill the paying customers. I was greeted by the Spelling Sisters as I came in, and had to show them my tan and my ring, and then I collared Andy for congratulations.

“How do you feel, butt?”

“To be honest, Sar, apprehensive. It’s what I want, you know that, but…”

“You not sure about you and Bev?”

“Oh, no, I love her to bits, she’s more than I ever hoped for. It’s me, though, I don’t know if I am up to this”

“So you are going to let her down, Andy?”

“That’s just about it, Sar, but not quite like that. I don’t mean that I want to run away, I mean that I don’t know if I‘m good enough to be a dad”

I could hear my father’s speech then, his fear of being unworthy of the woman who loved him.

“Andy, how do you think my Dad learned how to be a father? Or Tony? They just got on with it, because that is what fathers do. What about your own dad?”

“Er, he fucked off when I was four, with some woman he met in a supermarket. I think they moved to Torquay. Not the best of examples, Sar, but I take your point.”

“Andy, look at how you are with Jim, with your brother’s kids. You are a natural, you so clearly love children!”

“Yeah, but as an uncle you can give them back when you get bored with them”

“Andy, you are not your father”

“Yeah, but what if I am?”

“Your brother isn’t. Look, this is how men learn, it lands in their lap and they work at it. Children bring their parents up as well, you know”

There were customers waiting, so I simply gave him a hug, and a kiss on the cheek.
“Go and ask Bev what she thinks; there are three of you in this. Let her judge how fit you are to be a dad, and just remember that any man can be a father, the dad is the hard bit, the best bit”

I caught Suzy looking at us, and she gave me the slightest of nods. She had his back, and I realised how much he had grown in the last year. That other Andy, the nice one, had lain hidden behind the tosser for so many years I had to ask myself if he could ever walk free of its shadow. He was just like Alice, I saw, a bundle of dreams and hopes walled away behind fear. It was like a gaol break, one escaper releasing others. I wondered if Anne had had any joy from her ‘earnest young man’, if she would ever be able to join the run to freedom.

It was Suzy’s turn next, to share her little secrets, and I realised I had become the default shoulder for the team.

“What’s it like over your way, Sar?”

Hywel, it had to be. I had no choice…

“Er, I was in the ladies’ at the reception, you know…”

She went white, then red, then grinned. “Are all the men in your family so…blessed? He’s asked if I want to come across some time, and he’ll show me the sights”

I had to laugh. “If your idea of sights is the bedroom ceiling, you should be OK, but I have to say there are some lovely areas near us, great coastline. Just get him to keep his trousers on some of the time. You ought to take Alice with you, she seems to get on well with his dad”

Suzy looked surprised. “You don’t think the two of them are…you know…”

“Shagging in toilet cubicles? No, I just think they clicked as mates, nothing else. There’s a lot more to my Uncle Arwel than he lets on. Same with his son. Seriously, take Alice, it’s a long drive and you can share the duties. If you want, I have another option for you. We want to go across again with Jim and the dog in a few weeks. There’s enough room, and if we take a couple of cars we can have our own little convoy. What do you think?”

She perked up at that. “Sounds like a plan! I could do with some allies out there”

“I’ll let Mam know, then, and Elaine. Jim will be off in July, so that’s when we are looking at. That suit?”

“Yeah…how cold’s the sea then? Hywel said something about the beach”

“Well, it’s not the Med! Fine once you’re in, but don’t expect Barbados. Beaches are good though, really clean”

“Hmmm….new cossie then! Got to make the right impression”

That was going to be some expeditionary force, then. I already had my own new costume, of course, but it might be a bit skimpy for my parents. I had a fleeting vision of my parents covering each other’s eyes.

“Don’t look, Twm, she’s not decent!”

Later that day, someone else was positively indecent. Alice wanted a word, and one in private. She called me into the little office and locked the door.

“I have something to show you, love” she said, and began to remove her blouse She stood before me in her skirt and a rather pretty if all-enveloping bra, over the edges of which I could see the tell-tale shine of silicon chicken fillets, which she pulled out before undoing the clasp.

“Look….”

Very small, but unmistakably there. Puffy plump nipples crowned what were undeniably small breasts. She was glowing with pride and delight, and as I hugged her I could actually feel them give at my embrace. My little girl was growing up.

CHAPTER 60
I got the chance to catch up with Anne later, as she had taken the morning off for some church event or other.

I have no real interest in such things except in as they affect me or my loved ones, as I think I have made clear. She was in on time for the afternoon, which was all that mattered, and she was in a sparkling mood.

“I take it you have heard the news about Bev and Andy, Sar?”

“Thank you, Anne, yes, the honeymoon was very nice indeed. And, oh yes, I have had chapter and verse about those two.”

“I can’t say I actually approve of the situation from a moral standpoint, but Andy does seem to be taking his responsibilities seriously. I must admit, though, marriage is not something I would have expected to see him entering into. He’s really come along since Suzy took him in hand, hasn’t he?”

“I don’t think he knew he had it in him, Anne”

“Well, he certainly must have had it in her…”

What the hell? Off-colour jokes from Anne? “You feeling a bit frisky today, girl?”

“Just been a good morning, is all. That little task Pat found for me is a Godsend in so many ways. Jon says that it helps us see exactly how much we are helping the poor, so unlike just giving money or old clothes.”

Who was Jon? Well, it wasn’t a question that would be answered by telepathy, so…”Who’s Jon?”

“You remember, that colleague of Tony’s, at your wedding. He turned out to be another of Pat’s merry band of aid organisers. He is amazingly well read on theology, a sort of self-taught DD. We’ve been working through some of the deeper meanings in ‘Song’ together.

I thought, ‘I bet you have’. The naughtiest book in the bible, and he’ll be explaining it as allegory rather than lust. Watch the quiet ones, they can be sneaky. I resolved to prod Tony for some information on this ‘Jon’, just in case. She was still speaking, though.

“Andy says they are going to have a registry office wedding, so the child has legitimacy, and then organise a blessing later. This is getting expensive, Sarah, and it’s all your fault. “

“Anne, are you complaining about being forced to go shopping for a new outfit? Are you sure you are a girl?”

Alice was listening to this last exchange with a smile. Though she excelled at making her own stuff, particularly bloody cardigans, she did like her days in Canterbury trawling through the clothes shops. It’s a bit difficult to knit your own shoes, even though some of today’s youth fashions look as if they have tried exactly that, and despite her painful experience at the hen night, she was showing a true feminine addiction to what Siá¢n, always with a wistful expression, called “shooooooooooooooz”. Enid’s little electric foot spa thing must be very nearly worn out by now. Once again, an old memory surfaced, of spending my first shift in a pair of very high heels and regretting it after no more than two hours. Ow.

I spoke to Tony, who was on earlies that week, over tea, a simple bacon broth with proper dumplings. I wanted to know about this Solomon analyst who was apparently making such an impression on a confused and vulnerable–yes, friend. She had always been a friend, since the day she had arrived, it was only her odd obsessions combined with Alice’s rebirth that had soured things between us.

“Jon? Very quiet lad, never winds anyone up. Just gets on with it at work, but he’s never been a party animal. Don’t know if he actually drinks, though he does come out on team events. Doesn’t surprise me he’s a bit on the gospel side, but he’s never shouted about it.”

“Well, he’s got her studying the only dirty book in the Bible with him”

“As a chat up technique, love, that has got to be the most specialised I have ever heard of!”

Tony filled in some more details about his colleague, but there was one that surprised me. He was divorced, something that threw all sorts of curve balls into the mix. Watch and wait, Sarah, watch and wait.

“Oh, one more thing, I let Steph know we were going over and she’s going to be around, doing some stupid thing with ropes and her husband on the cliffs near Mowingword”

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Finally, we were free from school duties to make our expedition into the West, leaving work in the hands of Anne and Andy and the Signature Twins.. Suzy and Enid rode with Alice as Pie dozed in his basket behind them, and the three of us led the way. We peeled off the M4 after Bristol and had a cuppa in the dismal services at Aust, because I wanted to cross the old Severn Bridge rather than the bland new one. It was so much easier in a car, as I remembered days of utter terror on the bike, dicing with other vehicles while fighting a ferocious side wind. And usually in the rain.

There is a cycle path over the bridge. In a word, ‘No!’.

This was different, the high arc of the suspension bridge giving expansive views over the muddy wastes of the Severn as the first low hills of Wales approached. We came down the other side and immediately onto the second, smaller bridge that took us over the Wye and into my country. Home, ish.

Along and over the Wysg at Casnewydd, and then the scurry around the capital as the road goes up, down, under and seemingly sideways. It’s not the same as it was when I was younger; the pretentiously-named Celtic Manor golf resort lowering over the road rather than the industry I remembered.

Past the stink of Port Talbot, with the hills crowding close at times, and my old haunt of Morriston, and we were heading for the home stretch. The slowest part, of course, but Jim was showing off his memories of the last trip, which kept him from getting fractious.

Finally, finally we were back in sight of the sea. Elaine had offered beds to the three girls, while we took space at my old home. I realised it was my first visit as a married woman, and my insides went to mush. So much had changed.

Boy, dog and grandfather were reunited, and promptly set out for the bit of beach below the Slade. I was deeply happy at the way my parents, particularly my Dad, had taken to Jim, and Elaine’s suggestion came back to me. I hoped to get time to talk to all three of the people involved while we were here, but first it would be a cup of tea. After the long drive, we were going to have an evening in the Rugby Club, and I anticipated enjoying more than a couple of beers.

The evening was warm, despite the sea breeze coming in, and I put on a simple cornflower printed cotton dress with minimalist straps, matched with some comfortable flat sandals, while Tony and Jim went in shorts and polo shirts, dad and lad matched. Alice was n a more substantial Summer dress, to protect her lack of assets, as was Enid, while Suzy simply made me laugh out loud. While the rest of us were dressed comfortably for a family evening in Summer, she was n a rather tight minidress, in lemon, and heels.

And make up. I had a momentary vision of Anne on her knees in church--–no, don’t go there.

“Hywel?” I asked. She blushed.

The two great apes were waiting at the club for us, pints in hand at a table set outside where Pie could be welcomed. Once more we made quite the group, Uncle Gethin and Aunt Gwen joining us as well as the two girls. We should start demanding bulk discounts, I thought, though that might be outweighed in the landlords’ eyes by the quantity of food the four men could dispose of in a sitting.

Aunty Gwen was all smiles and hugs as she inspected my new ring, and Uncle Gethin was in a similar mood with my husband, so that was one possible irritation out of the way. I was more interested, though, in watching how Hywel and Suzy danced round each other. It was a vignette of modern manners: they had met briefly, immediately launched into sweaty sex, and were now trying to decide whether they actually liked each other. Alice, on the other hand, was nattering with Arwel as if they had known each other from childhood.

Once the first round of drinks merged into the second, I collared my sisters and Tony and strolled a little way off onto the edge of the pitch, the sun warm on my shoulders.

“We need to talk, you three, while we have the time and are sober enough. Tony, I’m going to get straight to the point: these two are broody, and are hoping to sort that out. They want to know if you will consider knocking them up”

Elaine snorted. “You don’t mince words, do you, chwaer fychan?”

Tony looked just a little shocked. “Can I assume that this little project will not involve me actually doing the, er, knocking? Do I get a say?”

I explained the girls’ proposal while the two of them looked sweatily nervous. He listened impassively.

“What happens if I decide I would like to be a dad to my own child? I would love to help, obviously, or perhaps not so obviously, but…”

Elaine was squeezing her wife’s hand. “You would always have access. We would sign any agreement you wanted, we just think that if we are going to pick any man, we want one we know, trust and love.”

He was almost in tears, I saw. “You know who Jim is? He is the only thing I have left of my Annie, and if I could have given him a brother or sister …we were never given the opportunity. If he could have a cousin, or two, perhaps….”

He pulled himself up, visibly. “Let me think. This is a big thing, and if we do it, it must be right. Look, there’s Steph. Let’s go and feed, and please, for now, change the subject”

I hate her. She has much better legs than me, and in her dinky little sundress the world and its second cousins could see. Cow. I was impressed, as always, by the pure grace of her husband Geoff. Whatever he did, however he moved, it was smooth and, well, elegant, without ever being anything other than utterly masculine, and what a smile. Increase his mass by about fifty percent, and I might actually be tempted.

I caught Hywel’s eye, and he nodded. He had kept quiet at the wedding, at my request and his own instigation, but I could see he wanted to say his piece this time. As Geoff got in the drinks and ordered their food, he walked over to her and said, in Welsh,

“Never expected to see you back at this club, Steph”

His meaning obviously hit her right away, as she turned white, and immediately looked round for Geoff, which touched me. I put a hand on hers.

“It’s OK, he’s no threat”

Hywel smiled. “No, not me. I remember you well, girl. Sarah tells me you still tackle like a train, though I suppose you keep that for hubby now”

Suddenly he was hugging her, and she tensed before relaxing and hugging him back. He laughed.

“What, with this family, you think we look at the outsides?”

He indicated his father and Alice, deep in conversation, and laid an arm over my shoulders. “When I say about looking at the outsides, though, don’t go bending over n that dress in front of Dad, you’ll stop his heart”

Geoff was at her shoulder now, looking puzzled. She switched back to English for his benefit.

“Love, this is a very old friend, from my school days, that I never knew I had….”

CHAPTER 61
Geoff looked hard at Hywel, obviously weighing him up. I got the impression that he had more than a little protectiveness in his nature, at least where his wife was concerned, and wondered what might have happened to bring that about.

He relaxed, however, as Hywel held out his spare hand with a smile.

“Hi, I’m Sarah’s cousin, Hywel, I used to play rugby against your wife. Is she still as mad?”

That broke the ice, and Geoff laughed. “They called her the ‘Smiling Assassin’, and ‘Psycho’, from what I’ve been told, but the only thing I can really say I’ve heard her opponents come out with is ‘Oof!’ as she hit them.”

He slipped an arm about his wife’s waist. “I just try very, very hard not to upset her”

Looking at them together, I hoped that Tony and I gave even half as much proof of our love for each other. They glowed when they looked at each other, and I couldn’t help feeling both jealous and smug at the same time. I had one of my own….

That set the tone of the evening. We sat out in the warmth of the late July sun after our meal as Jim and Pie tore about with a sequence of accompanying relatives, almost ‘bring me another one, this one’s out of steam’. Beer and other liquids were drunk, and while Alice was still deep in conversation with Arwel, when he went for his session with Pie she slipped seamlessly into the Little Old Lady group of Enid, Mam and Aunty Gwen, so smoothly that I had to ask myself how she had ever managed to pretend to be a man, even with the beard and the bald patch. Just like watching her with her knitting, her nature was clear for all to see, and as ever, passing strangers saw nothing apart from one of a group of LOLs.

I look back on that evening as one of those pivotal moments, a point in time that I would freeze if possible. The only raised voices were of a laughing child, or a call across the table to confirm what drinks were wanted by whom, or, the most fractious of all, a polite but loud difference of opinion over back row play or whether Andy Sheridan would have survived under the old rules against the Pooler front row.

That evening was not the pinnacle of my life, but it was up there with that moment when I had sat on a wall with my big man outside a Dover sports club, or in that quarry at that Welsh rally. All it needed was Steve and Arris and their brood…and the two whose names I kept alive, and to whom I owed everything.

Elaine spotted my tears before they fell, and got me to the ladies’, where I explained, and we both howled and wept with loss in the middle of joy.

Elaine broke the mood, asking if Jim was ‘well over four feet tall’ yet, and we started to laugh and cry together. Siá¢n came in to find out how we were, and so we just had to explain, and then there were three of us who had to do running repairs. Men ask us what we do in groups in the toilets, and that was one of them.

We share.

When we got out into the sun again, Jim was lying on the grass with a prostrate and inverted dog, who was enjoying the attention he was getting to his underside and making happy little dog-grunts in appreciation. Hywel was still deep in conversation with Steph’n’Geoff (I mean…what else can you call them?), and this time Suzy was sitting pressed up against him. I noticed one of his hands on her bare thigh…. My sisters were watching with obvious amusement, and probably placing bets. I joined Gethin, Dad and hubby for a cuddle which all three were happy to donate. That was something that made me proud of my Dad, his acceptance of me, and his brother in law was coming along nicely.

I had looked to the big city as a confused young person, with the idea that acceptance as a woman would be easier to find, yet it was here, in a rural overgrown village in West Wales, that the true acceptance came, from people who had known me all my life.

Elaine and her wife came over to me, with a petulant mock frown on Elaine’s face.

“Sarah, have a word with your sister in law, she’s being unreasonable!”

“Why? How? Your domestic, you’re the copper, you sort it! Anyway, what’s she doing?”

“Well, I bet her that Suzy manages to go home with Hywel so she can get her brains fucked out, and she won’t take the bet!”

Siá¢n smirked. “And if you wanted me to bet against the Pope being a Catholic?”

“Yeah, well how else am I supposed to get any beer money?”

“I never begrudge you a pint, I just want you to get me one at the same time!”

I interrupted. “Silly question, chwaer fawr, but isn’t her money yours, and yours hers, so where’s the problem?”

Elaine sniffed loudly. “It’s the principle of the thing!” she said stuffily, folding her arms just before collapsing into infectious giggles.

Siá¢n caught her breath first. “Did you really catch them at it in the ladies’, Sar?”

“Yes, I did, which means that for Hywel, the sex was…”

I paused, to keep the pain of the punchline back for a second, then “…pretty bog-standard”

Elaine spanked me.

And yes, Suzy did go back to Hywel’s with him, so that Alice and Enid didn’t have to share a bed, and the rest of us made our way home, Pie trotting along with Bamps while one young man rode asleep on Daddy’s shoulders. That was a little bit of life as it should be lived.

The next day, Arwel made the rounds with the minibus again.

“OK, you lot of miserable tourists, today it is going to be foreign territory, Little England Beyond Wales. The natives speak a heathen tongue, but they have beer, so all is not lost. We will go to the birthplace of the biggest turncoat family in our history, and then to a place where big boys’ toys can be watched, and then we shall head for where the fresh meets the salt and the land has to take a big step down, so make sure you have cossies, towels and picnic!

So off we went. Pembroke Castle, home of the Tudors, who chose to become more English than the English themselves, was followed by Castlemartin. Thankfully, somebody was selling ice creams and drinks outside, as the boys left us and crowded into the viewing tower to watch red-hot-glowing rounds leave the muzzles of Challenger tank guns and smash into targets, only to ricochet upwards and demonstrate why the coastal path was so often closed. Charming signs were everywhere: “Do not pick anything up, it may explode and kill you”

Big boys’ toys indeed. Been there, seen that, when I was a small boy.

Finally, after a lunch time stop at the St Govan’s Inn, we trod the familiar path through the trees past the lily ponds to what Jim called the “magic bridge” where freshwater gave way to sand and sea, and Pie could be released to charge straight into the waves, emerging looking half his weight as the water flattened his coat. The small lagoon enclosed by the beach was full, so we had somewhere safe for Jim to splash while his dad soaked up the sun and did his sun-cream duties on my back. Fair’s fair, after all!

We had changed in the ladies’, and while I was totally unsurprised at the Nice-style two-piece that Suzy sported, I was astonished at Alice. She had found a halter neck one piece costume that allowed her to keep her chest, and with the addition of a bathing cap when necessary she was ready to swim. I remembered my own early days, and just pointed, one eyebrow raised. She blushed.

“A little something Janet gave me…it holds all those nasty lumps out of the way”

It seemed there was a whole world of activities and interactions going on that I was completely unaware of. All this had started with me bringing people together, it seemed, and now even poor, shy Alice was spreading her wings. I felt oddly proud of her, and at the same time perversely irritated that she was, in her own way, growing to the stage where she might not need me. How pathetic could I be? I gave myself a mental slap on the arse for being stupid, and selfish, and got on with our day at the beach.

I hadn’t mentioned to Tony, of course, that this was a prime area for auks and chough, but I did take pride in pointing out the way the latter flew rings around other crows. It was a day for pairings, to be frank. Hywel and Suzy had clearly settled their differences, probably in bed, and were relaxing more and more with each other. Enid and Mam seemed joined by an umbilical of gossip, while my sisters were just a happily marred couple on holiday. Dad had started grooming Tony for apparent conversion to a proper son, Pie was ‘helping’ Jim make sandcastles, and Alice…she and Arwel seemed so natural with each other that it was difficult to remember that this was no romance, and without some radical changes never could be. I could never, ever see my uncle get past the purely physical aspects of Alice. Despite her budding breasts, she was still, in body, a man in a dress and a wig, or at that moment, a one piece swimming costume. I had a brief moment of terror at the thought of Arwel’s reaction if he forgot himself, but then calmed myself down.

The steps he had taken so far had been in public, and he had been very clear about his opinions on ‘nancy boys’, as well as making it plain what he considered Alice to be.

Life would never be simple for girls like us, but with care, and the right friends, it could at least be a life we could control.

That was when he started to do the sun-cream thing on her back.

CHAPTER 62
He wasn’t putting it on as I would with Tony (mmmmm), or as he would with me, but casually, carefully, as a friendly thing. I was proud of my uncle at that point, proud of my entire family.

It summed up the whole of our little break. A boy, his dog, his dad and the rest of the family, boy and dog running noisily about while alleged adults did mostly adult things, typified by Hywel depositing a cupful of cold sea water in the middle of Suzy’s sunwarmed back. Her screams echoed from the cliffs, and I turned to Tony with a ‘don’t even think about it’ Look just as Jim emptied his little bucket over my kidneys.

Before he could get away, I grabbed him up and dove full length into the waves holding him, Pie splashing after us barking as a laughing little boy wiped his eyes with one hand while splashing me with the other.

I felt sorry for Enid just then, with only the boys left of her family, and I resolved to let her share as much of mine as she wanted. After all, she actually was family now.

That was a good day, a really good day, and I still look at the pictures with a smile born of fond memories. Eventually, of course, we had to pack the cars and head back East to our homes, and it would be weeks before we got the last of the sand out of stuff.

“Mum…”

“Yes, Jim?”

“Are we coming back again?”

“Why, don’t you want to see Nana Sioned and Bamps and the rest again?”

“Ooh, you always tease! You know I do!”

That said it all, really. They had welcomed me back to life, what else could I do than offer them everything I had?

We gathered at Alice’s place after dropping Suzy off, and with Tony’s agreement I ran my sisters’ request past the older pair while Jim and Pie released some energy in the garden. Enid looked thoughtful.

“I did say to you about grandchildren, didn’t I, Sarah? Would the girls accept me as a grandmother?”

I had to laugh, and explained my earlier thoughts. “Enid, my family is your family, if you want them, but I think you know what we all think. Of course the girls would love a proper nana for any kids they might get, it just adds another layer of love to everything.”

I took my husband’s hand. “I just worry that Tony will feel diminished in some way”

Tony squeezed me back. “I had a longer chat with the girls while you were drowning our son, love. They were very clear that they wanted any child to know who their father was, so they would tell all when they thought they were old enough to understand. Jim gets half-brothers or sisters, I get to be a father again, Mum gets more grandkids….and while we can’t make a child together, I can’t think of anyone closer to you than your sister. In an odd sort of way, it makes sense”

In a moment of insight that almost made me burst with love for him, he added, “Those two girls are just like you, you know, when you used to watch other women who could have kids, and despair because you couldn’t. Look at you now, with Jim, and don’t shake your head at me like that. You are a natural mother, and you make your sisters green with envy. If you agree, I’m going to do it.”

Alice smiled. “I’ll do some research and find out the best way. I am sure we can order anything necessary in, or even go for IVF if necessary”

I slapped his thigh. “Don’t even THINK of trying the traditional method, you!”

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Back to work once more, and Andy was still buzzing with his own impending parenthood, while Anne definitely seemed to have reached some sort of calm place in her heart again. For a start, she was eating lunch with us once more, instead of sprinting off for a bit of self-harm. Regardless of this Jon’s intentions, he seemed to be having nothing but positive effects from where I was standing. Suzy, of course, was buzzing for her own reasons, and wondered if we were going to enact some form of symmetry, where she restored cosmic balance by making my own journey, but in reverse. Hywel certainly seemed to have done something to her, apart from the obvious. I had noticed a slow change in his dress sense as well, so it was clearly a two-way street.

A week after our return, Janet invited four of us round to dinner, and I was able to cash in on Anne’s goodwill by having her babysit as Tony and took the two older ladies round to the Head’s home. To no surprise on my part at all, Pat was there. Janet served up a rather nice dish of chicken breasts in tarragon sauce, together with some extremely well-chilled and bone dry rosé wine, and a tarte aux pommes to finish with. She had clearly been on a cross-Channel shopping run, and the conclusive evidence came out on the cheese board. We settled into easy chairs with coffee, and Pt took his place next to Janet on the settee. I had a suspicion forming about the reason for Janet’s little party, and as Pat took her hand I could feel his tension.

“I have a little confession” he said, the joke falling rather flat.

“I have come to a sort of crossroads in my life, well, we have come to it together, and would like some–well, advice, if possible, but mostly support. We would like. I have to keep remembering the pronouns…

“Alice, Sarah, you both know that things have stirred between Janet and myself. I will make no false protestations, but be assured that we have not taken that step too far. I am a man of conviction, of faith, and I have taken vows. Vows that I now wish to break.”

Alice was nodding. “So you finally found ‘the one’, then, my friend? I know you, and know you won’t go off on some silly game of Satanic temptation and all that nonsense. You want our support, you shall both have it”

She looked round at us. “Sorry, a little presumptuous, but I am right, aren’t I? You stick by your friends, you two, and I know Enid does.”

She turned back to the couple, and I noticed Janet was trembling. Alice reached out for her other hand. “It’s all right, Janet. Pat, who have you spoken to about this?”

He looked down. “Aidan, my confessor.”

“And?”

“He said some things about Satan and temptation, and rising above sin…”

“And what did you say?”

“I told him to stop talking out of his fucking arse, and gave him Genesis 2:18 and walked out. Look, I have to make a decision here. You should all know that my faith is an absolute, God is there, He loves me, He loves all of us, and I can not and will not believe any such drivel as Janet being an emissary of Satan, that’s just bollocks. God has placed us before each other, and I have a choice: to turn that gift down, or to renounce my vows”

Tony nodded. “Game theory. It’s a no-brainer, really, Pat. You have a choice of you both losing, assuming that Janet feels the same way, and she’s being very quiet there. Anyway, a choice of you both losing, or just one of you. The trouble is, realising what the ‘loss’ is, and then seeing the gain, the recompense. What I mean, Pat, is you either both lose, or Janet wins and you break even. As I said, a no-brainer.

“Look, Pat, you know that neither of us is at all religious, so perhaps I don’t see the importance it has to you, but you are not turning your back on the Church, just asking for a change of job. From it you gain a loving wife, and she gets a filthy-mouthed old pisshead who just happens to be a bloody good man.”

He looked closer at them. “It is marriage, isn’t it? You’ve asked her, haven’t you?”

Pat, PAT, blushed. “Yes, conditional on what we decided tonight, and what the Bishop says, yes, I have, and she has accepted.”

I started to laugh, and they all stared at me. “I’m sorry, it was just Anne, the other day, complaining about having to go shopping for an outfit for Andy and Bev’s, what the hell is she going to say when presented with another one?”

That broke the dam, and it turned into a proper evening of congratulations and celebrations, as two good friends announced their love openly.

That night I lay cwtched up with my husband after making love together. “I feel contagious, cariad”

“It’s not just you, Sar. It’s Alice. she’s the one that has really knocked people around, with her courage and generosity. I’m not trying to steal your thunder, but she is the one who has been shaking the tree. You just showed her the way out of a bad place”

He kissed me. “And don’t think I mean anything by that word ‘just’, you could never be ‘just’ anything, as long as you are just mine”

CHAPTER 63
It was still a huge thing to me, though. Tony could rationalise all he wanted, but after everything was done, would he really be able to handle having two children, or more, so far away and effectively out of reach for their early years?

It had to be his decision, though, not mine. I had kept my promise to the girls, and brought them together, but he needed to make his own mind up. Then there were the issues with the Child Support Agency. Not the simplest of games to play.

The long Summer break, for Jim, went on and on, and Alice and Enid worked a shuttle game looking after him while we worked, and taking him on trips to places he liked so much he couldn’t stop telling us about them, such as the local zoo, and the museums at Kensington. Small boys, dinosaurs, and that wasn’t a reference to Enid and Alice.

The latter was blooming now. The more her small breasts developed, the happier she became, only really getting maudlin about the male pattern baldness that cursed her. I would sometimes catch her without her hair, as Jim put it, gazing sadly into a mirror, but she always shook herself and smiled at me.

“I am counting my blessings, dear. I have my freedom now, after so long, and a little cosmetic problem is not going to be allowed centre stage. My shrink is already counting down the months of my real life test, we are just having a little argument about when it started!”

“That is something I meant to talk to you about, Alice. How far are you going with this?”

She seemed a little put out at that. “Sorry? I thought you understood this is final, this is me!”

“Sorry, love, I didn’t mean it like that. I know this is you, and we all love ‘you’ to bits, I just meant….well, are you looking at surgery? I will be blunt, love, I worry about the risks at your age. It’s very, very invasive, you can trust me on that one!”

She looked pensive. “To be honest, my dear, I don’t know, Every so often, I have a real moment of hatred for certain…areas of my body, but then I say to myself, how important is this, really? I mean, I am not exactly going to go looking for that Great Dark Man, am I, so apart from losing a couple of small bits, do I need anything more?”

I laughed. “Uncle Arwel?”

She blushed. “Well, yes, the thought had sort of crossed my mind, but I think he would run a mile. He is a mate, that’s how we connect, and I value that more than some fantasy.”

She paused, gathering herself. “Look, Sar, I’m not a virgin, not really. I had a couple of, well, flings as a youth, and they were a bit messy. I tried to connect with some girls I knew, and one, well, we sort of ended up in bed at her instigation, and it was not exactly satisfactory. She couldn’t see what I wanted, really, and I couldn’t tell her, and then I wondered if I might be gay. I couldn’t admit to myself what my heart was telling me, and I had a couple of…liaisons.”

She grinned, wryly. “Yes, they were fun, and yes I did lie with my legs n the air and dream, but it still felt wrong. I felt wrong.”

Now there was a surprise. Alice had always led me to believe that she had hidden all her life, terrified of letting things slip out, and now she was admitting to a lot more. She saw my mind ticking away, and smiled.

“It was always difficult with the girls, you know. I just wanted to be with them, to be one of them, and all they saw was a boy, and boys only want one thing, it seems, so that is what one of them gave me. You know, really, I suppose I didn’t want to hurt her feelings, and, well, in the end I did. We’d had a bit to drink, so I blamed that, and sort of avoided getting into that position again”

“You didn’t just tell them, Alice?”

“Could you have done so? I mean, to someone other than Elaine, or your two friends at college?”

No, I supposed not. I had been so lucky, especially with the three friends who had cared for me. They knew, they understood, they didn’t judge. Alice continued.

“Please understand this, Sar, I have never seen myself as a gay man, I just wanted to have something, some tenderness, some joy, yes, with a man, and that was the only reason, but they all wanted to play with what I didn’t want to have, and, well….unsatisfactory isn’t the word.

“Can you understand….can you understand there were moments, fleeting moments when I thought I hated you, in my jealousy? I really thought you had it all so easy, but then I remembered that shit who beat you, and then the lovely policemen who were so kind to you, and I knew that you had suffered just as much as me, and, well, each time I wanted to hate you, you would be there in front of me, and no, I never could. You save lives, Sar, it’s just a pity you left it so long to save your own”

She was crying now, and of course I held her. She kept talking into my shoulder, her voice muffled and shaky.

“You know how low I got, and some of that was because you were there in front of me, and nobody else in the shop ever suspected we were the same, but I knew, and it hurt”

She lifted her head to look me in the eyes. “You have nothing to be ashamed of, you were just the image of everything I could have had if I had had the courage that you had, when I was that age”

I stared hard at her. “This IS about Uncle Arwel, isn’t it?”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, yes. We get on so well, and he is just my sort of man, if only he would get rid of those awful rings”

I started to laugh. She frowned at me.

“What’s funny?”

“Oh Alice, you are such a bloody woman. A man worries about getting a woman undressed, a woman about getting a man dressed better!”

She snorted. “Arwel is someone, if I were different….well, I wouldn’t have looked past the mullet and the jewellery. You let me see the man inside, and your family doesn’t seem to produce idiots”

“He’s my father’s brother. That’s all that needs to be said”

“Well, let’s just say that I have been having a lot of childish thoughts. ‘It’s not fair’ sums it up”

“Would you like me to talk to him, love?”

“Sarah, my sweet girl, if you do, it must be a general thing. I have my fantasies, but I have also got a good friend who has that rarest of qualities. We can communicate…if nothing else is possible, I want to keep that. Can you promise me that? Please?”

I could. I did.

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We worked and played our way through Summer, and managed to fit in a couple of rallies to let the Norvin breathe and Jim get his fix of camping. He was really into his little road bike, though, and one week, when Tony was on a string of late shifts, we rode down to the docks with camping gear on our racks and rode East from Calais towards Gravelines. There is a little camp site just outside the town, so we set up our tent, by some strange coincidence not far from a bird reserve, and spent a few days exploring the quiet lanes of that part of Flanders and searching for another perfect mousse au chocolat. Well, it’s a hard job, but someone has to do it.

I showed Jim his first ever crested tits, near Guines, and when we weren’t eating Nice Things, or riding, we were on the beach, and I was so bloody happy, it was all that Alice had envied.

I was a mother. “There is more than one way of being a mum”, how fucking true. Being away from Tony brought that home to me, and each time Jim treated me like that, honoured me with that name, I almost wanted to freeze frame my life. Keep your three, Arris, I have mine. I lay awake in the tent just to hear him breathing next to me, and I understood how much I was hurting Alice, Elaine, Siá¢n.

Life can be an utter bastard, and then it shows you what it s for, which is simply to be lived. I had almost given up after Joe, and the love of my friends had dragged me back. If, IF, I could do something for my sisters, and for Alice, then my easy ride in life meant I owed them payback.

CHAPTER 64
When we got back from France, I had a phone call.

“Sh’mae, Sar, beth wyt ti’n ‘neud penwythnos nesa?”

“Hi, uncle, Tony’s working next weekend, but I’m off, and Jim’s still off school of course”

“You got room for a couple of smugglers for the weekend? The boy and me, we thought we’d have a run over and get a bit of beer, like. You can come along if you want”

I laughed. “We’ve just got back from cycle camping there!”

He laughed back. “Yeah, but, you don’t have much room for wine and chocolate and that on a pushbike, girl! Will that Alice be about?”

“I can ask, but she has passport issues, as you might guess, and we’d need to arrange for Andy to cover for her I’m sure she’d love to. Of course, Suzy might be off, but if you drag two of us along, she’d probably have to work. I’m assuming Suzy is the reason Hywel is coming over….”

“Oh, yes, he’s quite taken with her, he’s been a bit silly with women since Meriel buggered off, but your friend seems to have hit the spot”

“I think they’ve been hitting each other’s spots rather a lot….”

I held the phone away from my ear while he roared. A thought crossed my mind: was my taste in men based on my family? I grew up with big, hard men, and that was what I went for. Steph’s husband was attractive, in his way, but there simply wasn’t enough of him. Arris’ Steve, however…..oh, yes.

I made a call to the shop after he hung up, and had a sort of four-way chat on speakerphone with Andy, Suzy and Alice. I decided it was my turn to take a bullet for the team.

“Look, guys, if I come in, and work with Andy and Anne, that leaves you two free to take the trip with the boys. I’ve just got back, so it’s no big deal. I can have a word with Enid, or even Janet, to look after Jim for the day. Then we can have a family meal on the Sunday. Sound like a plan?”

Suzy was quick off the mark. “I’ve got a spare bedroom”

Andy was just as quick. “Wouldn’t you need two? Ow!”

Alice was a bit more sensible. “Would Jim like to come anyway?”

“Good thought, that woman, I’ll ask. It might help keep the behaviour adult, but not TOO adult!”

He was definitely up for yet another boat ride, yet more ice cream on the beach, and yet another trip to the huge sports store at Coquelles. Little boys, just like big boys. Show them something shiny they can unscrew, and they are in rapture. Then again, I think Suzy had her mind on some slightly different sense of unscrewing. That brought something to mind.

“Andy, how’s Bev coming along?”

That turned into a long conversation. I can sum it up in four words happy and in love.

So, that Friday evening, the trusty mini bus arrived outside our house and a whole gang of us were straight off to the Red Lion to refuel the boys, sitting outside with Pie in the August warmth. They kept it sensible, though, with an early start the next day they needed to, and we left the van parked up outside ours while Suzy drove the boys back to her place. They were getting into that almost mundane stage of a relationship, where nothing exciting seems to be happening beyond the simple pleasure and companionship of the other’s presence. The dance is done, the courtship is over, the fair maiden’s hand is won, and it is time to settle down for the journey.

Saturday morning they were off bright and early, with a letter each for two of them, one from Tony to give permission for Jim to leave the country with his great uncle, and one from Alice’s doctor to explain why her passport didn’t match. I covered the shop, leaving Pie in Enid’s care, and Andy looked as happy in the flesh as he had sounded on the phone.

“We’ve set a date, Sar, for the registry office. It’s third Saturday in October. Can you make it? Bev needs some bridesmaids…”

I laughed out loud at that. “Maid, Andy? I’m in my early forties, married, and a mother, how does that qualify me as a maid? Matron, perhaps!”

“No, Bev’s asked her sister to do that one for us, so you are going to have to do the sweet young thing bit, just don’t fight for the bouquet, you are disqualified!”

“ ‘Sweet young thing’? I am a hard-rocking biker chick, I’ll have you know, I have a reputation to uphold!”

“Yeah, yeah, and you are also the softest touch I have ever met. However you want to come to the wedding, we want you there. No big dress, nothing like that, we’ll save that for a blessing later, if we want. We are just after a good day with friends and family, that’s all.”

“I think we can give you two that! Keep us up to speed, and I’ll get Tony to check his roster. Who are you inviting?”

“Well, my family and hers, of course, and work, and I’d like your mother in law along if she wants to come. I can’t imagine Alice without her, if you see what I mean!”

“How does it feel, Andy?”

“How does what exactly feel?”

“Being able to say ‘we’ all the time?”

His smile answered me well enough.

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The dirty stop-outs were back about eight that evening. The van was positively groaning under the weight of beer, and Arwel insisted on dumping a couple of cases of Shepherd Neame in the house for Tony. Jim was now the proud owner of a pair of ‘proper cycling shoes, Mum!’ and Alice and Suzy seemed to have bought the hypermarket out of cheese, coffee and chocolate. Once Pie’s excitement had died down, we had a late tea, largely consisting of French bread, pá¢té, wine (funnily enough) and yummy cakes. It was clear the girls had managed to steer their men into at least some shops that weren’t entirely devoted to alcohol. They’d even got some shopping for clothes in…shoes, of course, in Alice’s case.

‘Their men’. It seemed to fit, somehow, with Alice and Arwel. as well as Hywel and Suzy. Perhaps it was the lack of sexual tension there; One pair knew they’d be rutting like weasels later, the other pair knew there was nothing like that on the menu, and each in their own way was therefore relaxed about it.

Some of the new coffee brewed, we took our seats in the living room, Jim stretched out on the floor with his dog, and I let Alice and Suzy know the date Andy had set. Alice was thoughtful.

“I’ll need to have a word with Margaret, then, see if we can get a couple of locums in to cover. I don’t think any of us wants to miss out on that one, but if necessary I’ll work it”

“We'll sort it one way or another…oh, dear, what has that dog been eating?”

I love Pie to bits, but he snores, as he was doing cuddled up to Jim, and he farts, noxiously, which puts a strain on the relationship. Tony chose that moment to return home, just as the windows were opened.

Family life….

The next day, Enid and Alice were over to start the preparations. Potatoes and carrots peeled, broccoli and cauliflower chopped, oven on, table opened right out and set for eight. I had taken a cue from the carvery up the road and prepared two roasts,a chunk of beef and a piece of gammon. Thank god for a double oven, the previous owners had obviously liked to cook. The Yorkshire puds would go in at the end, of course, but Enid had the batter ready.

Arwel had asked, in all innocence, if Jim wanted to take his bike for a ride along the seafront, and I saw the first old-fashioned look ever from the boy. I ride to Canterbury. I have just come back from a cycle touring expedition in wildest France. You want me to ride my bike a few hundred yards each way on a cycle path? In the end, they walked down to the sea anyway, while Tony did his boring name-all-the-ferries bit and Pie romped in the water, and we women did our stint as galley slaves.

Apart from Suzy, who was staying as close as she could to Hywel without actually undressing.

It was a true family Sunday lunch, gentle conversation interrupted only by the need to chew and the odd admonition to a little boy about dinners and dogs, Arwel seeming even more attentive to Alice. There were definitely things going on there, and I just hoped neither would be hurt. Yes, I was worried about my big, hard uncle as much as poor, fragile Alice.

We finished off with bread and butter pudding, and custard of course, and then three men slumped in the armchairs and snored while the rest of us cleared up.

For the first time in my life, I wondered if being female was a rational choice.

No, not really. Not given the alternatives snoring in the living room.

CHAPTER 65
Monday morning was another delivery day, so it was all hands to the pumps, apart from Andy. Despite his sudden advances into being human, he still had a blind spot about the quantity of work the new stock entailed.

As usual, we girls did the necessary while Alice worked through the paper trail and Andy serviced pensioners. I felt a Word with Bev coming on, if he did not mend the ways we had assumed were irreparable before her entry into his life.

She popped in for a few minutes mid-morning, which gave me the chance to coo and gush about the new child, and suggest names. Some of the suggestions were less than serious, such as “Winker”, and I was nonplussed when Anne suggested ‘Radio Times’

“Why Radio Times, Anne?”

“Because it tells you……………what’s on”

“Oh, you sod!”

Bev changed the subject, smoothly but very directly.

“So how are things going with this Jon, Anne?”

She actually blushed, which answered a lot of the question without actually giving any answer as to specifics. Bev just laughed.

“It’s definitely a viral thing here, what with me, and Sarah there, and Suzy, and now Anne”

Suzy pretended anger. “What do you mean, ’and Suzy’?”

Bev laughed again. “There you are, walking like John Wayne, and you say you don’t want to tie him down?”

Suzy put a finger to her bottom lip, and said dreamily “Now, there’s an idea…”

The laughter was so filthy we had to clean the stockroom.

Alice popped her head in at about eleven. “Sar, I have an appointment with my doctor in half an hour, can you hold the fort till I get back? I’ve got most of the delivery stuff sorted already, so there’s nothing to worry about. Enid’s meeting me there”

I did my best to time the next remark to her taking a sip of tea. “Sounds a bit more than just a check up, if you need the support of your lesbian lover”

I was rewarded with a snort and a spray. This was turning into a silly day, which is the best kind. Smiling and joking with friends, a little horseplay, and before you know it the working day is over. At the appointed hour, she ticked off out of the shop on her heels to see the quack. I could not work out how she managed to stay on her feet all day n her choice of shoes, but I knew that it was all part of her exuberant explosion of femininity; after a life spent hiding behind the beard, she was shouting her nature to the world. There are few things that say ‘woman’ louder than high heels, and she wanted to scream it out. I couldn’t begrudge her that, but I pitied her for the pain she must have at the end of each day.

Three quarters of an hour later and she was back, Enid in tow, and bubbling with excitement.

“They said yes!!!! I’m on the list!!!”

Enid was looking odd, and I could see that while she was happy for Alice, there was also a lot of doubt and simple fear in her eyes. I tried to calm Alice down.

“Slowly, girl, slowly, what list?”

She grinned, and started to sing. “The first cut is the deepest, la la la la la”

I looked over to Enid, who sighed, but smiled. “Orchidectomy. She’s been given the nod for the surgery as soon as there’s a space on the list. She’s a bit hyper, so I shall take her for a cuppa to calm her down”

Off they went to the office, Alice still mangling the song. Things were finally moving for her, and she seemed so buoyant. My own removal had been done under the cloud of Joe’s assault, and so I hadn’t had the chance to celebrate my new life as Alice was doing. Never mind, she at least would have that opportunity, and I didn’t begrudge her it. A half hour later, she came out to the stockroom as we were finishing off, Andy in tow.

“Chap, ladies, I have a happy announcement to make. You have stuck with me through my changes, you have shown yourselves to be true friends, and so I hope this will be taken as good news. I have been placed on a list for the removal of two dangly little glands that I have no need nor desire for. I will soon be free of testosterone! I think we should celebrate! Coffees and cakes, hmmm? My serving wench Sarah will take the orders”

We popped out of the shop, and in her excitement she nearly flattened Dawn, our local bobby, with her PCSO Barry in tow. It’s a given that when you run a drugs den like our shop, you get to know the local police rather well. Dawn picked up on Alice’s mood, and grinned at me. “Good news?”

“The best. She’s due her first surgery soon, just heard today”

“Alice, that’s fantastic news! Can I have a hug, you lucky girl?”

Alice was hauled up against her stab vest, beaming happily. “I’m getting cakes and stuff in for the team, you got a few minutes to gobble something naughty?”

Before Barry could speak, Dawn was pointing at hm. “No!”

We left them to continue their patrol, at least as far as our office, and as I turned into the coffee shop, Alice set out over the pedestrian crossing, singing away.

The front bumper of the Subaru caught her just below the knee, and as I stared in horrified fascination she left the ground, bouncing up and over the bonnet till her head smashed into the driver’s door pillar. One shoe bounced off down the road, and just after her head rebounded her wig came right off, flying like a grey moth onto the tarmac.

Everything was slowed down, and even though I was sprinting, I didn’t seem to be getting there, but I did, and I felt my tights shredding as I knelt beside her, and the driver got out.

“Shit, man, look what that bitch done to my scooby, times like this I wish I had fully comp on the insurance!”

“Call a fucking ambulance, you wanker!”

“Hey, don’t you diss me, bitch! Hey, she some fucking tranny, yeah?”

I missed my punch to his groin, and he backhanded me hard across the face, just as Dawn arrived. I heard the asp hit his thigh just before Barry shoulder charged him, but I wasn’t listening to the rest of it as she was lying so oddly on the tarmac, legs and arms all splayed out and limp, and her head just looked WRONG.

I was screaming, I seem to remember, and then the ambulance came, and a police van, and the cunt was taken away yelling about tranny whores, and they were holding a paper bag over my mouth and nose, and Suzy and Andy were there, and…..

Anne went with her in the ambulance to the hospital while Enid drove me there herself. She wasn’t dead. She wasn’t dead. She wasn’t dead. That was the fact I kept telling myself, the prayer I repeated so that it would be true.

We arrived not long after the ambulance, and she was taken straight to theatre, and a little later Tony arrived, and I couldn’t stop crying. Then the doctor came out, and wouldn’t tell us anything because we weren’t family, and Enid pulled out a note that showed her listed as next of kin, and finally

Finally we started to get some information. She had a number of broken bones, mostly in the legs, and a couple in the face. The big problem was that her head seemed to be swelling, and he said something about opening her to relieve pressure, and I didn’t know what that meant, but Enid was coping better than me, and then Tony arrived and I could let go of my emotions at last.

Eventually, I stopped crying. Dawn arrived, white-faced.

“What a bastard. More concerned about his fucking car than the woman he hit. Cunt! How is she, do we have any news?”

Enid brought her up to date, as well as she could. “They are operating, trying to relieve intracranial pressure or some such. She has a lot of breaks, but it’s the head they are worried about. We won’t know for a while, so we will just have to sit and wait.”

Sit and wait we dd. Arwel was over that evening.

CHAPTER 66
I realised I was losing it again when Tony arrived for the third time, and at that point I started trying to get myself under control.

The mantra, ’not dead’, helped. As I slowly calmed myself, wrapped in Tony’s strength, I realised that I had been having the first complete panic attack of my life. That would not do; Alice needed me, and I would be there for her.

We had been shepherded to a family room, Enid staying out to talk to the medics. Anne took my hand as I calmed.

“We need to get those cuts looked at, Sar. Let’s get you to the ladies’ so we can sort your legs out”

Once in there, I realised that I had not just shredded my tights but also my shins, where I had knelt down for Alice. A black eye was just starting to show where he had hit me, and my lip felt swollen, but it was all minor. I just looked like shit. We did what repairs we could, and then returned to the family. Suzy had arrived, having unilaterally shut the pharmacy, and Andy would be along when the shop itself could be closed. I settled into Tone’s embrace, and a nurse appeared with a small tray to fuss over my legs, picking small bits of grit out and wiping me down with some bloody painful antiseptic stuff.

Enid came in with the doctor, who just looked tired. He sighed.

“It looks like she’s stable, but this is very early days and she is not in the first flush of youth. Fortunately, she’s not so old that she can’t heal. The good news….well, she’s alive, that’s about as good news as I can give you. She has a broken right forearm, a broken right tibia, I assume from the impact, but her spine is undamaged. Her jaw is broken on the right side, and she has a fractured skull and cheekbone. The limb breaks are very clean, so should heal nicely.

“This is going to sound silly, but I believe she was wearing a wig. Can you describe the style?”

I looked around. “Collar length, I suppose, grey, tightish curls, she was quite vain about her hair. Is it relevant?”

He nodded. “I know it sounded irrelevant, but it seems that even that slight bit of cushioning took away enough of the impact to avoid a more serious injury. Every little bit helps, as they say. Now, the bad news.

“She has quite extensive rotational bran injures, in my opinion, and I have had to carry out a small procedure to relieve pressure inside her skull. She is going to be rather heavily sedated for some time, I am afraid, but you should be able to go and see her shortly.”

Enid asked the killer question. “Is she going to live, doctor?”

“Er, I’m a surgeon, actually, but never mind. Short answer? Don’t know. I’m sorry to be blunt, but there is no other answer I can give apart from my opinion, which is that I think she will. The trouble is, until we can talk to her, we won’t know the damage to her mind, if any.”

I started to laugh, a little harshly. “She was due to come into hospital soon anyway!”

The doctor…surgeon smiled, and I suddenly saw how deeply tired he was, how hard he had worked over my girl. “The orchidectomy? Enid here mentioned that, and as next of kin, well…I know it’s not really the done thing, but I thought if she’s going to die on me she can do it feeling a little better. It’s a two minute procedure, but don’t tell the General Medical Council, OK?”

Such a small thing, such a big thing.

As evening came on, the room filled. Pat and Janet were there, him still in uniform, but they were wrapped round each other like people scared of drowning, and that lovely woman had collected Jim for us. They were followed by Andy and Bev with sandwiches and a couple of big flasks of coffee. Bev hugged me.

“Would you like us to take Jim home with us tonight?”

A thought struck me. “Shit, what about Pie?”

Andy nodded. “If you want, we can use your spare room, take Jim home and see to the dog. There’s nothing we need to go home for apart from an overnight bag sort of thing. Would that help?”

Tony hugged him. “That would be a great help, mate, I owe you one. That OK with you, Jim?”

“How bad is Aunty Alice, Dad?”

“Very poorly, son, very poorly. Your mum and me are going to stay here in case she needs us, so you be good with Uncle Andy, eh?”

“Dad, I am a big boy now, I can be good. I’ll look after Pie, but I want my Aunty OK. I love her.”

He was crying now, the tears of a big boy who was going to be strong turning into the racking sobs of a little boy whose heart was breaking. I folded him up and shushed him until he could get his control back. A nurse was at the door.

“She’s stable now, do a couple of you want to come and see her?”

I left Andy and Bev to sort out Jim and went along the corridor with Enid, and there she was, in a pink hospital gown, her head swathed in dressings and an arm and a leg in some sort of metal frame things. There was a box affair round her head and neck, obviously to keep it still, and as well as all sorts of drips and wires coming off her there was a cluster of tubes down her throat. Things beeped, and something made a regular hiss as her chest rose and fell. I touched her left hand…I felt so fucking futile. Not dead, not dead, not dead.

Dawn was waiting when we came out, Barry next to her looking pale.

“How is she, Sarah?”

“As well as anyone can hope for, considering, Dawn, which is as meaningless a thing as I have ever said”

“Well, our little friend is Tyler Ripley. He was a little unfriendly down at the nick, so I sprayed him, and the Custody Sergeant wasn’t amused. Unfortunately for him, he was tooled up, and he also had a few wraps of Charlie on him. He’s given an interview, all ‘no comment’, and we’re just waiting on CPS for a charging decision. Dangerous driving, assault, ABH, possession of bladed article in a public place, driving not n accordance with the terms of his licence–he’s on a provisional, no tax, no MOT, and if we can persuade them to go for the higher one, possession of a class A drug with intent to supply. And I seized his fucking car.

“Now, I don’t want to push you, but if we can get a statement off you ASAP it will really help in pushing the CPS along.”

She carefully and calmly led me through the events, and just as we finished Arwel arrived with Siá¢n. She was all calm efficiency on the surface, simmering beneath. He was arctic cold. This was the Arwel known and feared at home, the hard and brutal one I remembered.

He was very precise. “Hello, Officer, I’m her gentleman friend. Can you tell me where I might find the little cunt?”

I sighed. “Dawn, this is my Uncle Arwel, he’s a close friend of Alice. Arwel, this is our local copper, and you will not get in the way, OK?”

He just nodded. “OK.”

It was telepathy, in a way. Both of us knew, and I am sure that Dawn did as well, that what he meant was “…for now”, and I had a fleeting moment of sympathy for Ripley that popped like a snowflake on a fire. At some point he would meet my uncle, or somebody that Arwel knew, and it would be very violent and seriously painful, and I didn’t want or need to know any more.

Siá¢n spoke up. “Lainey is tied up at the moment, but she’s pulling a few favours in and should be over tomorrow with Hywel. Can we see her at all?”

Tony went to find a nurse, and after a while the two were back, and I saw that my big heavy uncle was quietly crying. Siá¢n and I wrapped ourselves around him, as Janet kept close to Pat and Tony held his mother. Human warmth, that was the only way to cope with this. Pat looked around the room, his arm tightly around Janet.

“I am not going to come out with any shite about forgiveness, and a better place, and anything else from my calling. All I will say is that looking around this room, at you people, I have hopes for humanity I sometimes thought I’d lost.

“We will be here for the good woman, our good friend, and when she is well, and when she is home, we shall all get pissed together and give thanks for the people around us. Because she will get better, she has to be at at least two weddings, three if Hywel asks Suzy”

Three? Oh shit….

A short one tonight. I have to work, but this is at least an offering.

CHAPTER 67
“Yes, Sarah, I have been speaking to my Bishop. We have a sort of way out, that will actually keep me in employment, and keep me in the Church. He wishes me to become a sort of lay brother. I will work on the administration of the Diocese, do some teaching….and be released from my vow of celibacy”

“What about the one of poverty?”

He laughed. “That’s not a vow, that’s a fucking permanent state, these days! No, seriously, I believe this woman has been sent, just as Adam was given his. “It s not good that the man should be alone”, He said, and I will take Him at His word.”

I went over and kissed them both. “Alice will be there for you, if there is any justice, any at all. Let’s get her better first, and then we can do all the celebrating we want. I’m not ignoring you, or putting you down, but I’m just a little bit stressed to make a sensible comment beyond ‘congratulations’ “

We settled eventually on a rota, where one of us would be there at all hours in case she returned from wherever she had gone, and to my frustration I wasn’t allowed to pass the first night there. Enid took that, insisting that she didn’t want to rattle round an empty house, and besides, I was injured. Pat and Janet would take the morning, and Bev would be round as soon as she got out of work. I booked the following night. With some juggling, Jim could be cared for, Janet and all the others offering their help.

Four days later she was still out. The machines beeped and hissed, her chest rose and fell, and various liquids drained in and out of her. I came in one afternoon from work with Arwel to relieve Enid, and found her playing some old 60’s pop songs by Alice’s bed.

“Herman’s Hermits, love, her favourites, just thought I’d try. The doctor says he’s reduced the sedation, as the swelling has gone down sufficiently, and if she’s coming back, this is when she will start ,so I thought I’d have a go…you read the stories, sometimes they work.”

Arwel grunted. “Never liked them, all flounce and frill they were”

Alice just grunted. It was over five seconds before we realised, and I ran to the nurse’s station. Ten minutes later, the doctor was there.

“So what was her level of response?”

I talked him through the conversation, and Arwel’s comment, “And then she just grunted round the tube”

He checked the various drips, and then leant down by her. “Alice, it’s Doctor Matthews, you’re in hospital and you are safe. If you can hear me, please squeeze my hand. Alice…please try…good girl, good girl. In a few minutes I am going to remove your ventilator, OK? Squeeze if you understand…that’s good. Do you hurt? Right, one squeeze for a little, four for a lot, can you see how that works…two squeezes, you are doing well”

All three of us were crying. I could see what he was doing with the numbers, trying to get her to show that she could still think. Enid left to make some phone calls, and a little after that a nursing team pushed us out while they did medical stuff with the tubes and hissing thing, but we were soon back in.

Alice groaned. “Eeni’?”

I held her good hand. “Making some phone calls, Alice, people were worried about you.”

“Sar?”

“Yes, my love, it’s me. Arwel’s here as well”

“Gray dar mah”

I got it immediately. ‘Great dark man’, her term from Quentin Crisp, and Arwel was indeed great, and dark, and weeping. I looked at him, and he took my place with her hand.

“You had me worried, girl, who’s going to do my back at the beach if you bugger off? The son’s too rough”

Her eyes flickered. “Tide, luh. M ver tide. Arm hurts, n head”

The doctor was back. “Alice, you have a broken arm and leg, but they will heal splendidly. You had a little problem with your head, but that seems to be OK as well. I will leave you with your family, but there is a buzzer by your left hand if you need anything”

I followed him out. ”What do you think, Doctor?”

“I am very optimistic, Mrs Hall. I have tried to make my comments progressively more complex, and she is responding rationally and sensibly. A couple more days, and perhaps another scan, and then we shall know more. She has good support from you all, and that can make quite a difference. Just stick with her, if you can.”

As the news went round, we had a steady stream of people stopping by, and I had to put my foot down hard before they wore her out. Her eyes were opening and shutting, searching for anything or nothing. I leant close to her at one point and whispered “The surgeon did your little operation while he did the other stuff”

“Cuh my baws off?”

“Yes, Alice, exactly”

“Guh ri’ans, nev wand fugn thigs firs place. Mwummn no man”

“Yes, Alice, we know you are a woman. We just want you to be a well woman. Enid’s brought your music, Herman’s Hermits, do you want to listen for a while?”

“Pleez”

I put it on softly, on the stand by the bedhead, and after a while I realised that she was singing quietly along to it, and a tear was rolling down her cheek. I wiped it away, and as clear as she could, she just said “I love you” and stopped breathing.

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I hit the big red panic button, and in less than a minute we were physically thrown out as a team of medics charged in with a trolley, and from outside heard the whine and thump of a defibrillator.

Ten minutes later they had her stable, and Enid had stopped shaking. Doctor Matthews was back, pale and drawn.

“It happens, sometimes, when we take them off the ventilator for the first time, but she’s stable again, and I will have a nurse on bedside duty till we can be sure. You are not losing her, not now. Go and get a coffee or something, this is going to be a long night for you; I do take it you will be staying the course?”

Arwel just nodded, and Enid hugged him and went to make some more calls.

She lasted till the morning ,then till lunch, and then…then she was awake again, and talking, and I realised I had been asleep for some time and Tony had laid me by the bed on a camping mat under a blanket. I got up, groggily, and Alice LOOKED at me, and smiled, and Enid sort of fainted as Alice said “Thank you, Sar”

Enid spent two nights in another bed with exhaustion. They moved Alice in next to her on the second night.

Jim had his aunty back.

CHAPTER 68
I was tired, in that state where your eyes seem displaced to the back of your skull, looking out through long tunnels that feel soaked in vinegar.

Enid had been released, and was recovering at home, but I was still spending as much of the day and night as I could by Alice's side. Arwel was never far away, leaving everything on hold and in Hywel’s care, and to my delight Mam and Dad came over on the fourth day after she woke to take care of Jim and allow Tony some rest of his own. Family…

I stood in the ladies’, inspecting the wreckage in the mirror. I badly needed a bath, and some proper sleep, but there was no way I was going to leave her till I was certain that her recovery was assured and the risks of further arrests were gone.

Siá¢n brought me some fresh clothes a couple of times, but I was still antisocially dirty, and, well, I needed to do certain things that only girls like me understand, and I couldn’t sit next to the bed with what added up to a dildo in me without arousing at least some disquiet. In short, I just wanted everything over, all lives set back to ‘default’, and one young man’s car crushed into a cube with him inside it. Bev was feeding me, after Mam and Dad took over the house, and every time she left I had a cry. Alice was just about fully awake now, and she saw.

“Why the tears, my darling girl?”

“It’s just silliness, Alice, realisation that I have so many good friends, and I’ve got no way to repay them. What can I do?”

“Understand this, Sar, you have the friends because of who you are. That’s all. You care, you give things back, and people see that. They gravitate to you, because you listen”

“Yeah, I try, Alice, but lots do”

“Yes, I know, but you accept people. I don’t mean you are a soft touch, you just seem to accept people as they are, and that’s a rare gift.”

“Yeah, well, I sort of need that for myself, being what I am, so it’s kind of a payback”

She laughed, and I joined in, and the sound was so wonderful, she was going to be my happy little old lady again. Her speech was still slurred and broken, but I was putting that down to the wiring up of her broken jaw, and not to any brain damage. Please god, no damage there.

Doctor Matthews was in a little later, still looking raw around the edges, and I realised that Alice wasn’t his only concern, and wondered how many other families were camped out in hope and fear just like us.

“Good morning, Alice, how do we feel this morning?”

“I don’t know about you, Doctor, but I still feel like shit. Is there a time scale for getting these bits of meccano off?”

“Soon, I think. You were very fortunate indeed to have two such clean breaks. I wanted to be sure everything was straight before I moved onto simple plaster, but all is looking good just now. We’ve also been looking at the scans, and there seems to be good news there too.

“There is no easy way to put this, Alice, but you have to think of your brain as being like a big soft blancmange. Your skull can do remarkable things to protect it, but if your head stops suddenly, the brain can keep moving inside your head. That can deliver what we call rotational brain injury, potentially very nasty.

“I’ve spent a lot of time with the consultant, poring over your scans. There is damage there, but nowhere near as much as we had feared. What I would like to do is put you through some cognitive tests, see how your thoughts and memory are.”

“Well, I can’t actually remember the crash, just seeing the car about three feet away and the driver looking down”

“Retrograde amnesia, very common. Quite a blessing, really, you don’t remember the pain of the impact. How is the pain now, by the way?”

“Whatever you have me on seems to work. Out of professional curiosity, doctor, what are you giving me?”

They launched into a complex discussion of analgesics and dosage, and I smiled with relief. If she could handle pharmacology to that level, she was still there inside.

Arwel appeared as the doctor left, taking the time to shake his hand and thank him, which he did every time they met. He was carrying two sacks from the burger chain that had a franchise in the hospital, which sort of went against my idea of healthy, but never mind. He had cokes AND coffees, the sensible man, and I devoured my cholesterol and calories as if I hadn’t eaten for hours.

Well, I hadn’t, but the double dose of caffeine shook me awake, and the greasy, salty mess was just what my failing body demanded. Alice asked for some, and I watched as Arwel first held a straw to her lips so she could take some of his coke, and then, so gently and delicately, fed her chips, one by one, as she sucked on them in her broken mouth.

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There is little more I can say about those days that would be n any way structured. After the shock and pain of the accident, and Alice’s arrest, things settled into routine. Her ‘meccano’ came off, to be replaced by plaster, and I had the job of scratching inside with a long plastic stick. Once that was done, we could finally allow Jim to visit properly. I had been adamant that the sight of metal rods sticking into her flesh was not something I ever wanted him to see. He was upset, but once more I was treated to the sight of a bouquet bigger than a boy.

The cognitive tests revealed some damage, largely to Alice’s short-term memory, and as she got better we would notice the occasional pause in her conversation where, as she put it, she was rewinding events to see where she had been and what she was talking about. Arwel was sanguine.

“Women talk too much anyway” he said, but there was a twinkle there that had been missing for a while, and it was clear that as Alice healed, so did the rest of us. Eventually, the day came when we could get her out of the hospital and home. There was no question of crutches, not with two broken limbs, and so she rode home in Arwel’s minibus with a National Health Service wheelchair on loan. Her head was still healing, what little hair remaining shaved off, so she wore a headscarf like some Russian farmer’s wife, in a wonderfully bright pattern of roses that seemed to shout out to the world “Nyah, missed me!”

Arwel took her home, as our place has steps to the front door, and Tony and my uncle had already transferred our sofa bed so that she could sleep downstairs. He had apparently already moved himself into her room on what looked like a semi permanent basis, so what with him and Enid, and the constant stream of well-wishers, she had everything she needed.

Tony took me home at last, and I stood under the shower for what seemed like years, then pulled on a sleep shirt and climbed into our bed. I slept for twenty hours, Tony told me. I just had nothing left.

A couple of days later, Dawn called round. Dad let her in, and as we shared a cuppa she talked me through the case.

“We actually found a live one in the CPS, and they have agreed that we have a reasonable chance of conviction. Not only that, but they are going for the possession with intent charge instead of the soft option. I am going to ask a serious question, now. Alice is transsexual, am I right?”

No shit, Sherlock. “Er, yes…”

“Good, just wanted to confirm it isn’t crossdressing or any of the other flavours. Ripley has gone for a jury trial after his PDH. so we’ll need to make sure she’s up to that, and then we can sort out the VIS, which I think we can make multiple…what? Oh, sorry.

“Plea and direction hearing, victim impact statement. He has gone not guilty, light was green, she stepped out, no time to stop, etc, and you hit him first”

“Well, I did…”

“Yeah, on your knees, big man coming at you, no problems there, you’re a woman. No, that should be fine. What we want are the VI statements from as many people involved as we can, such as Enid, especially as she ended up in the next hospital bed, and that tank of a man who wants to kill my scrote.”

“Uncle Arwel?”

“Yeah, two reasons. ‘Gentleman friend’ for the jury, and also for Ripley to have a good look at.”

She grinned. “I want him to see your husband, and your uncle, and your Dad here, and even though I know that you are all law-abiding people who would never, ever consider such a thing, I want the little bastard to be looking over his shoulder for the rest of his life.

“Alice is one of MY people. Nobody touches my people”
.
I grinned back. “Funnily enough, I might be able to add another couple of lads to the team”

Steve and Hywel. Dawn grinned, and there was something of my sister in her.

“For once, I am actually looking forward to a trial”

CHAPTER 69
I cycled round to Alice’s place with Jim the next day, partly to see Alice, but mostly to have a word with my uncle, to see where he was headed in his mind.

If he was getting involved with her, in any way, I wanted to keep her safe. He was a very direct man, and that could be for good or for bad, and Alice couldn’t be more vulnerable. If she misread the signals…

Alice was in the conservatory, reading, her arm and leg stuck straight out, as Enid bustled round the kettle and Arwel lounged in an armchair with a copy of the Telegraph. Jim hugged Alice gently, and then asked the obvious question: could he sign her casts? Enid found a pen for him after she brought the tea, and the job was done. His signature looked a little lonely there, so the rest of us added ours, and Alice was smiling happily.

I looked at my uncle. “Can I have a word?”

We went out into the garden, and I could already see the ‘what have I done?’ expression forming.

“I need a bit of an explanation from you, Uncle Arwel. I’m not having a dig, or anything nasty, I’m just worried about Alice and wondering what you are actually up to”

He gave me a very old-fashioned look. “You think I’m taking the piss, or something like that?”

“I don’t know what you are doing, I just want to look after a very sweet and vulnerable friend. I remember what you said to me in the Oak, and I can’t see how that fits in with how you are behaving. I will not have her hurt”

He smiled, wearily. “You think I know what I am doing? I’ll try and make some sense here. Too many people hate each other, and while I am not averse to a bit of hating myself, I like to have a good reason for doing so. If I hate someone for being different to me, then I hate them for a particular difference, something they do.

“Look, I don’t love Arabs, but that’s not because they are Arabs, it’s because of the way they treat people. Like their meat, what way to treat a good sheep is that? Now, if you had one of them who didn’t believe in slapping women, or locking them up, or that stuff, then he would just be another bloke. Am I losing you?”

“You are confusing the fuck out of me. What has this to do with Alice?”

“I am trying to explain that I don’t hate things because I don’t understand them, but because they are wrong. Look, I don’t hate woofters and nancy boys, I just don’t understand them. If you fancy blokes, which I don’t understand anyone doing, then for fuck’s sake fancy a man, not a fairy.”

“I fancy blokes, Uncle”

“Yes, but you are a woman, aren’t you?”

“I am now”

“Yeah, but you always were a woman, Sar. We all know that. Like Alice, she’s no bloke”

“And you fancy her, do you?”

“No, I don’t. She’s not my type, even if there wasn’t a bit extra to her, but she is good company, good people, and I love her to bits”

He caught my stare. “No, Sarah, I am not ‘in’ love. Don’t tell him I said so, but I love your Dad. That doesn’t mean I want to get all personal with his body, does it? Same with the old woman there; I can’t think of anyone easier to spend time with. I don’t want to jump her bones, but she would make a good wife, if you see what I mean. Can you understand that?”

“I think she might want more, Uncle”

He sighed. “I know, but I don’t think I can give her that. I don’t know, Sar. Just be sure, I will never hurt her. This is confusing for me, you know, as you get older you get less able to adapt”

He looked off into the distance. “I thought she was going to die, and I thought how fucking typical, just as I found somebody I could actually talk to, she gets killed by some twat in a car who didn’t even have the good manners to be properly pissed. I mean, if he’d been drunk, he’d have had a bit of an excuse, but that boy was just a twat”

I was getting lost in his logic. It made an odd kind of sense, but my head span.

“You two stopping for dinner? Your Dad can look after the dog, can’t he?”

Tony was on lates…..”OK, what are you cooking?”

He laughed. “You know me, two women in the house and the kitchen is mine, I tell you, MINE! I’m doing lobscouse, but someone tells me you do very good dumplings, so I expect some help, aye?”

Back in the conservatory, two women were singing along to Mr Noone, while Jim sipped an orange juice and pretended to block his ears.

“Mum, can we bring our own music next time?”

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The lamb was just right, and we sat for a while letting our stomachs do their job until Jim and I were fit to ride back. I watched Arwel and Alice together, and despite his protestations there was more tenderness from him than ‘just mates’ called for. I suspected that he had a lot more on his mind than he was admitting to.

It was a steady roll back to Dover, culminating in the mad descent of Whitfield Hill on which I can, on a good day, break 40mph. Then we were laughing together down the more gentle descent of London Road to our house. Pie was, of course, ecstatic, and after Jim had made friends again I sent him off for a shower before he stiffened up. Eventually, he was off to bed, and when Mam took an early night Dad sat down next to me.

“You wanted to talk to Arwel, didn’t you? About your friend?”

He’s never been stupid. Pig-headed, yes, but never stupid. “Yes, Dad, I’m worried she might get hurt. I don’t mean that I’m worried he will do something, it’s just that she is not at her strongest and I don’t want any assumptions being made that might not be true.”

“And what assumptions might those be? That he has some romantic intention towards her?”

“That’s just it, Dad, he hasn’t, but I think she is getting a little attached that way herself. She’s not that experienced”

“Oh, Sar, I think from the way she handles you she has enough ‘experience’ to be going on with. Give her some credit, and perhaps she will prove a little stronger than you think, yeah?”

“Dad, be honest with me, what do you really think Arwel is up to?”

“I don’t know, girl. I think he’s fonder of her than he admits to, and he finds it hard to put it all together and get a proper picture. For once, I think you have to pull your horns in and just let them sort things out for themselves.”

He laughed. “Not your style, is it? You always like to sort everyone else out!”

“Couldn’t sort me out now, could I? That took Arris”

He came over and hugged me. I settled into his embrace, so like Tony’s, and his smell, of wool, and soap and a hint of the beer he had had earlier.

“You’re sorted now, though, aren’t you? Apart from this nastiness, I’ve never seen you so happy. You were made for this life. Alice is finding her own place in the world, and if she doesn’t have any bumps, she won’t learn. Arwel will be Arwel, for good or bad, and just remember he has a son to see married, so he won’t be looking to drive away his daughter in law, will he? The only things we can be certain of, so let’s just watch and wait, aye?”

Bloody fathers, they have had too long to learn how to be right.

Tony was in about eleven, after we had all gone to bed, and I am afraid that in my confusion and frustration at the day I sort of stopped him from getting to sleep for a while. I certainly wouldn’t be doing any long bike rides the next day.

A girl has needs, after all, apart from beer and chocolate.

CHAPTER 70
Margaret had sorted authority for compassionate paid leave for us, but I knew the shop had to be sorted in the end, so I made the trek back to Canterbury the day after my talk with Arwel.

Do I need to go into detail about the difference between sitting on the Kwak saddle and on a Brooks, post Tony? No, I don’t think so. I stripped out of my leathers in the ladies’ just as Anne came in.

“How is she?”

“Not bad, she has a complete entourage to see to her every whim”

“You make me jealous, Sar, you have such a strong family. Do you ever rent them out?”

I laughed. “What’s Jon’s family like?”

She sighed. “I don’t know, I haven’t met them”

Shit. Extract foot from mouth. “Problems, Anne?”

“I don’t know, I don’t want to push it….”

“Anne, some advice. There are things people make assumptions about, and only sometimes are they right. Don’t assume that he thinks you are the square peg, it might be them. You do know his family are all Hell’s Angels and on heroin, don’t you?”

She looked pensive. “It would be nice if that was the reason. I rather suspect that it’s me, Sar. I try to live my life as my faith teaches me, and some people aren’t comfortable with that”

No shit, Sherlock. Perhaps she was right. “But isn’t Jon strong in the faith, too?”

“Oh, yes”

“Then there are a number of possibilities, not least what I said, that he doesn’t think his family are faithful enough for you. Here’s a suggestion, Anne. It’s really simple….talk to him. Tell me, you know my views on religion are not exactly in tune with yours, so how does that make you feel about me?”

“I pity you.”

Thanks, girl. “Do you hate me?”

“Oh, no, how could I ever hate you?”

“No, Anne, forget me, and thanks for that, but do you hate people without faith?”

“That would be against Scripture. No, I pity them, I just wish they realised what they are rejecting and how vital it is that they repent.”

“So…if his family were worshippers of Dawkins you wouldn’t hate them?”

“Of course not!”

“Then, girl, why are you telling me all this and not him? Don’t push it, though, you might scare him off. Remember, too, that some folk like to keep their lives in compartments. It might just be that….and one other thing you have to remember”

“What’s that?”

“He’s not going to have wonderful social skills, is he? He’s a bloke!”

That broke the tension, and she laughed, much more happily. After locking up, I made my way back to Alice’s with a few basics such as milk, and then back home. Dad and Jim were out for yet another dog walk, so Mam and I had the house to ourselves , which was bliss. Up until the banging, tramping and barking that announced their return, of course. Pie welcomed me home in that particularly canine way of ramming a hard snout straight into my still-sensitive areas, but I forgave him as I fussed with his ears. Dad sat with a fresh cup.

“That priest called by, said he’d drop in after tea”

“Pat? Did he say what he wanted?”

“Na, he said nothing big, and he’d tell you when he saw you”

Well, that was a non-message. True to his word, as Jim helped Mam with the dishes, there was a knock, and in came Pat and Janet. He was in civvies, which came as a surprise. I hadn’t realised how quickly things were moving for him.

“You’ve clocked the collar, then? That’s one thing I wanted to let yez all know about. Tony’s on lates, is he?”

“Yes, last one”

“Well, if you cast your eyes about, you might notice I’m not the only one who has changed their dress in a small way”

I couldn’t work out what he was on about for all of five seconds, till Janet waggled her hand. I have to admit I squealed like a teenager, but then so did Mam when she saw the ring. Pat grinned.

“Fu–bloody typical, I get released from one set of vows and immediately set about tying meself down with another lot. I should know better at my age! Now, I know these two are not exactly lifelong fans of His Holiness, but if you would all, as a family, like to do me and Janet the honour of attending a little ceremony at what was my place till yesterday, we would be delighted”

“We do have Andy and Bev’s soon, Pat! This is turning into a rather full calendar”

“Ach, it won’t be till next year, I have to get used to being defrocked first.”

He started to chuckle, but when I asked what was funny he just shook his head. “Tell you later, Sarah”

Janet smiled at that, and I assumed she knew what had amused him. “One thing we do remember, and that is the complaints made by some silly old woman about not being a bridesmaid, so I am sticking with two only, and that’s Alice and yourself, if you want to do me the honour. Which brings us to the problem”

Pat grinned again. “She does make things awkward, you know. She would have been my choice as best man, even in a dress, but she wants to be a bridesmaid, so who am I to argue? Just the f–bloody groom. So, we were wondering, seeing as he is the best man in your eyes already, whether your husband might do me the honour of standing beside me. I was hoping to catch him here to ask him directly, but at least this way he gets some notice.

“I can’t think of many better men, Sarah, as I’m sure you’d agree–and I can see your parents nodding, too, so I’m not alone in that. And as he’s out, I can say those things without expanding the bugger’s head too much”

Janet put her hand on his arm. “Enough, pet. We’re looking at some time in Spring, if that suits.”

I looked at Pat. “This is what you really want, isn’t it?”

He took her hand, and they both smiled. “Oh yes, most definitely”

I saw them to the door, and once out of earshot of my parents, I pushed him to tell me what had amused him.

“Oh. it’s just me being silly, here’s a woman who used to wear trousers getting hitched to a bloke who used to wear a dress! Tickles my sense of symmetry!”

And off they went, just like any other ordinary couple. I just had to keep reminding myself that Janet would never be fully out of her closet without some very serious consequences. Her transition may have been easier, but the other side of her tactics had left her living a different sort of lie. Perhaps, just perhaps, when she retired…no, best not to worry about that.

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Tony woke me when he came to bed, stealing the warm place under the duvet. I ran him through Pat’s news, and he grunted.

“Best look into selling Jim for body parts, then, it’s the only way we'll be able to afford all these new dresses”

You can go off people, sometimes.

CHAPTER 71
This was starting to get silly. I had dug myself into a hole, it seemed, where almost everyone around me was pair-bonding, breeding, marrying or just worrying about religious affiliations.

I thought back to the chat–the lecture-- my Dad had given me. Was I pushing too hard? Janet and Pat seemed to have found their own way, as did Andy and Bev, but I was pushing Anne, and to an extent Suzy, and I almost cringed at trying to hurry Arwel along. I rewound that conversation; had I said anything to push him along to a deeper relationship? Her words stuck in my mind, even as slurred as they had been in the hospital: ‘great dark man’.

The way she spoke about him at her most vulnerable, I could only guess that she was falling for my uncle. Poor girl, out in the open at last, just as I had been, and my reward had been Joe. I remembered thinking all my Christmases had come, that I was free, in my little blouse and heels, impressing queen bitch and pulling a fit lad, that my new life had finally arrived. Then the coming down, the realisation that Sam would never be gone, not really. And as for Alice, even with her new little breasts she could never make more than a rather dumpy near-pensioner in a wig.

Shit, why can’t real life be a little easier? My own judgement had been warped, it seemed, by my luck, by Arris, and Tony, and I was projecting my dreams onto Alice. I needed to talk it through with her before she got too deep, and too hurt.

I mentally slapped myself, ‘let her make her own choices’. Seeing her in that state once was once too many times for me, and pretty obviously was something she would hope never to repeat.

I took the Kwak out to hers after work one evening, and made an excuse to push her down to the local shops ‘for some air’. She was still in wire and plaster, but her doctor had said it would come off the following week, at which point the physiotherapy would start. I didn’t envy her. She was straight to the point.

“What is it that you wanted me alone for? Your uncle?”

“Er, yeah…Alice, look, I’m just worried I’ve been interfering a bit, and I don’t want people I love to get hurt, like I did, and, well, stuff!”

She laughed through her teeth. “You’re worried I’m going to levitate this body upstairs to my bed that he’s filling and ravish him, somehow, with an arm and a leg stuck out straight? I even have my mouth wired shut, so THAT’s out of the question as well!”

I blushed, but as I was behind her she didn’t notice. I hoped.

“Look, I do realise you have the hots for him, but, well, he’s just a bit sort of completely straight”

Before she could complain, I rushed on. “I know, I know, but all I am talking about is his perception. Men can be very visual creatures, and, well, undressed. It happened to me, and I don’t want it to happen to you”

Alice sighed deeply. “Sar, I come back time and again to Crisp’s dream, and yes, he is my Great Dark Man, and I know what you fear. You and Janet, even that Stephanie, have been lucky in your bodies. I haven’t. But, nevertheless, here I am dressed the way I know to be right, treated as I wish to be treated, and despite this recent nastiness I am happy. I am not going to throw that away, not for a bit of fleshly comforts.

“Look, the thing about Crisp’s fantasy figure was that he could never exist. By fancying him, he wouldn’t be the man he dreamed of. Arwel will never fancy me, but he is fond of me, I believe, and he looks after me, and every now and again a girl gets to see him with his shirt off….”

She chuckled in a particularly lascivious way. “No, girl, I have no illusions, just dreams, and what he gives me is more than I could ever have expected. The doctor tells me he said he was my gentleman friend, and, well, he is both, and that pleases me. So, Sarah, for once in your life stop worrying about others and let them make their own mistakes. Please.”

I opened my mouth to try and say something at least partially rational, but she was on a roll.

“He told me about your little chat”

Oh shit.

“We talk, Sarah, that is our intercourse, we talk and we make our own choices. I know you care about me, and I love you for that, and for so much more, but please let two old farts make their own mistakes”

There wasn’t really much I could say to any of that. I felt well and truly put in my place. On our return, Arwel just grinned at me, and I left them to their evening meal and whizzed off home for my own.

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As promised, a week later and Alice was finally freed from one torture and ready to start the delights of physio. Arwel headed off back West at last once she was mobile, but I suspected there would be more visits. I felt relieved, in a way, at the thought of some distance between them at last, but I clung onto my new resolution, and tried to stay out of their affairs. We had two events coming on apace, Ripley’s trial and the first wedding, and my mind was occupied.

The trial came along the week after Alice was released from her bindings, which was unfortunate. She would have made a much bigger impression on the jury in a chair with wire and plaster, but there was nothing that could be done. Dawn told us that she suspected the defence barrister had dragged things out specifically to avoid such a scene. Whatever the reason, as promised Tony, Dad, Arwel, Hywel and Steve were along to sit in the public area and smile nicely at Ripley. It was all quite amusing, allowing for the circumstances; I was obviously outside the court as he gave his evidence, but Bev told me that all through his stint in the witness box he kept staring at the boys, which did tickle me. We had rather a large turn-out, so wherever he looked, he’d have seen one or more of her family or friends.

My time came, after Alice, and I was led to the box and through the oath. The usher quietly indicated a box of tissues that she had placed on the shelf, and I realised what she was hinting at. It seemed Mr Ripley was rather well known to the court staff, and she was clearly hinting that a few tears might sort of help the jury along to the right verdict. It was all a stitch-up, but I could not have cared less. We went through my evidence, did Mr Prosecutor and me, and then Ms Defence started on me. I clung hard to Bev’s advice: don’t talk to the barrister, just listen to their questions, look at the jury, find someone sympathetic there and hold eye contact, and give THEM the answer. Answers short, simple, clear. I found a middle-aged lady in the front row, who I noticed dab her eyes a few times when I described how Alice had been thrown across the road like one of her own rag dolls.

“Why did she step out into the road when the red man was showing?”
It was green.

“Why did you launch an attack on Mr Ripley?”
I didn’t.

“Did you not make to strike him first?”
Yes, but I was on my knees in the road and he looked as if he was going to hit me.

“Was he not merely warding off your blow?”
Only if blocking a blow to his nuts meant punching me in the face.

And so on. Mrs Juror was dabbing like a good’un when I had finished. I noticed a few of the other jurors giving Ripley dirty looks as well; my helpless girly persona was doing the job. I was released, so was able to join Alice in the public gallery as Dawn came on to do her stuff, followed by Barry, and we heard a tale of her waving goodbye to her local chemist just as the Subaru jumped the red light, of seeing Ripley not only hit me in the face but pull back his foot to kick me just before she began to use reasonable force as defined in the Association of Chief Police Officers guidelines. Of how he had resisted and fought even at the Custody desk, resulting in the use of pepper spray to subdue him, and so on.

She was followed by three ‘civilian’ witnesses, all of whom repeated slightly different versions of his comment about insurance, and I saw more of the jurors sneer at him. I doubt he noticed, because our boys seemed to have caught his attention like a rabbit in headlights. I caught Tony’s whisper; leaning over to the lads either side of him, and nodding to Ripley, he passed along the question “Fancy a pint afterwards?”

Ripley, of course, must have assumed they were planning some unspeakably nasty torment for him, and I didn’t see the point in enlightening him. The jury took half an hour to convict him of all charges. The Judge….

Oh, she was acerbic enough to have skinned him alive with her words. I was watching the jury, at this point, several of whom had looked up towards me and Alice and nodded in recognition. I was so involved I missed the request for the Victim’s Impact statement. I stumbled through mine, which I felt was too full of soppy platitudes, but still noticed Mrs Juror, who was wiping her eyes. Alice gave a very flat response, and asked if Arwel could do it for her. He nodded, and rumbled off down to the witness box.

“I am Arwel Powell, the uncle of Mrs Sarah Hall who is the girl that that lovely man chose to punch in the face while she was kneeling over a dying friend. I am also the gentleman friend of the lady he drove his car into while on his rounds selling drugs, the lady who was perfectly happily and legally crossing the road when he drove through a red light at speed. I could go into more detail of my opinion of Mr Ripley, but it is not a high one, and I would think from the verdict that these good people have returned that that opinion is now quite widely shared.

“Now, one thing that offended me greatly here was the way he spoke of her as ‘some tranny’. I am a man of traditional values, a hard worker, a hard player, and from the time I first met Alice she has seemed to me nothing other than an absolutely charming lady of a certain age. In her youth, she dreamed of Peter Noone of Herman’s Hermits, in her later years she indulged herself in her adopted nephew, and the friends she made once a few…unfortunate social and physical problems were cleared up. The day of the events we are here for she had just been advised that she was on the list for some surgery to help clear up some physical imperfections. She was bubbling away with happiness, as I knew because I was the first person she telephoned with the news.”

Now there was a surprise! He continued.

“So, my friends, your honour, please see the picture we have: a woman elated beyond words, her life, her true life, just starting, and then she meets Mr Ripley. Mrs Hall, there, who sees a long term friend and adoptive family member, smashed into and thrown through the air by someone whose following actions and words said so much about his remorse and lack of it.

“We have a little boy, whose adoptive aunty’s body has been shattered so badly that he has to be prevented from seeing her to avoid further trauma to his little mind”

Mrs juror, and a couple of others, were now weeping openly. The usher passed up my tissue box.

“Finally, we have myself. I am a widower, with one son, who is divorced. Because of this lady here, Alice, my son has met someone he has fallen deeply in love with and hopes to marry next year. Because of that, I have met Alice herself, who has charmed me out of an old widower’s bitterness and isolation and back into my own second go at life, someone I can talk to, and share with, someone who has brought together many parts of my family who had drifted apart.

“That is Alice. That is the person that Mr Ripley here very nearly killed. If not for the wonderful medical staff who cared for her, and the ambulance crew, she would have died, and all that I have just described would have been torn apart.

“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, thank you for your honesty. Your honour, thank you for giving me the opportunity to say how much this case has affected our friends and family.”

Unspoken, it hovered: please bang him up and throw away the key.

The judge adjourned sentence for reports, remanding the little shit in custody for the time being.. Ripley was still fixed in the boys’ glare as they took him down. As for us, we all went for that pint. Bev was grinning, as Arwel hugged her.

“We plotted that one together, and I wrote it, but all the sentiments were from Arwel here. He does take stage directions well, doesn’t he?”

CHAPTER 72
That was our trial. I had been wetting myself all through it, it was over, and I hoped never to have to go through that again.

We had our celebration, I forced Alice back into her chair despite her declaration that she was going to dance all the way home: two large white wines and a ‘sod it I’ll have a pint of Director’s as well’ may have been behind that, of course. Arwel looked rather chuffed at the whole thing, making remarks about Uriah Heep and ‘ow ‘umble ‘e was, all accompanied by the appropriate hand-wringing and bowing. Humble my arse, I thought, but I was doing my best to keep up my vows of abstinence, or at least of non-interference.

I had to keep reminding myself, as well, that this was the first time father and son had met Steve, because they seemed to meld immediately into that odd hard-man companionship, where all three shared the mutual recognition of hard men who have absolutely nothing to prove to each other. From a few of the comments I overheard, it was clear that Steve had a little more to his background than either Arris or my husband had let on, and when he was deep in one particular anecdote and I caught a fleeting facial expression, I wondered which face Joe had seen and shuddered.

Odd thoughts. So easily it is that the ‘hard man’ becomes the bully, rather than the rock for his family to cling to. There was a common thread, it seemed, in my family and friends’ experiences, where that truism ‘the love of a good woman’ had channelled the overdose of testosterone from nastiness to nurturing. As I sat there musing, and slightly squiffy, I thought it must be like alcohol. Some people merely have to sniff the label and they want to fight the world, others giggle and fall asleep. It was like male hormones. Testosterone had made me leggy and tall, for which I thanked it (that’s enough now, boys) but I had never felt any great interest in invading Poland, or even Glamorgan.

That thought set me giggling, as the archetype of macho aggression and violent evil was allegedly monoglandular, and of course I had to try and explain all that to Bev, who was a little wobbly herself and started to sing THAT song, and I got my first ever Paddington stare from Arris, while Suzy (who HAD to come along, of course, after court) treated Tony to the old-fashioned version. In between fondling her beau, of course.

I had indeed overdone my celebration after such a stressful day, and even so I was able to assemble enough mental coherence to realise I had proven my own alcohol-based hypothesis.

Just next time, Sarah, try using someone other than yourself for the experimental verification. Thank god Arwel was doing the driving.

One big tip from me: don’t drink too much early evening. You fall asleep, and wake up at stupid o’clock in the morning, and can’t get back off. You miss making love to your beloved as a result, and when you fall asleep just for that half hour you miss seeing him off to work. And your little boy really, really takes the piss out of you the next day. And your Dad. Mothers just look disappointed, and that is the worst thing life can offer. Not angry, not sad, just…disappointed.

The other thing about flying high in the liquid-fuelled research area is that you can never remember what your huge insight was the next day, just that you may well have cured all known diseases and brought world peace in return, if only the Old Peculier barrel hadn’t needed changing.

Oh dear…I hadn’t drunk that stuff since college. I had forgotten why I hadn’t. I knew now.

Mam did sit me down the next day.

“You were really frightened in there, weren’t you, love?”

I nodded. “I hadn’t realised how scary it is, Mam. Bev told me what to do, and how to do it, but you really are on your own, and if you make a mistake it has such awful consequences. Not just for me, but for Alice. I was just so relieved…I’m sorry, I overdid it, and it’s not fair on you and Jim.”

“Not to worry, love, not to worry. Your Dad has taken the dog and his boy out for a run on the seashore, with Alison and her husband, and then they will pick up the rest of the crew over there for a fish and chip lunch here. Oh dear, did your stomach just make that noise? I have some cawl for the fragile”

She was grinning now, disappointment almost gone as motherness stepped in again. I do love my parents, deeply and completely, but it is always nice when they remind me that it goes both ways. She was still mothering me, though.

“I see you have decided to leave your uncle and Alice to their own devices at last, cariad. That can only be a good thing. Children must make their own mistakes.”

“Neither of them are exactly children, Mam”

“How old is Alice, exactly? A year? Two? You have lived more than half your life now as the woman you needed to be, and you have done it with the support of your sister, and Alison, and me. Alice is new to this, she must find her own feet. We will still be there for her, she is family, and you know we look after our own”

Family. What a compliment. I hugged her, hard, tears in my eyes.

“What’s that for?”

“Being such a wonderful Mam”

She hugged me back. “You know, my darling, that you are a good mother yourself. Twm says you remind him of me”

I laughed. “And Uncle Arwel says I remind him of Nana Powell! So I can blame two of you now if I get it wrong”

She leaned back from me. “I don’t think you will, my lovely little girl, if anything you love too much and too deeply. Let them find their way, just this once”

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A couple of hours later a busload of reprobates surged in with vinegar-reeking parcels and a large tray of fizzy drinks. Jim stage-whispered to Dad “Do we still need to be quiet around Mum, Bamps?” but the dog made that a little redundant until Jim sorted him some treats. Steve was grinning, until Arris punched him in the arm.

“Sorry, love, but it just reminded me of when we first met”

I gave Arris back her Paddington stare. “And just remember what I can say about THAT, girl!”

I didn’t get the blush had hoped for, just a happy grin of old memories, followed by a sigh, “Ah, whatever happened to that…healthy man I married?”

Steve laughed out loud. “Three kids and no privacy, love!”

Alice was giggling at this. “Privacy…oh yes, so I heard. Something about brains wasn’t it, Sar?”

The buggers were ganging up on me, so I pouted, and that just made them even sillier, so I stole some of Alice’s chips instead. She made it worse by telling me that she couldn’t chew too many anyway, so even that little moment of triumph was spoiled. Sods.

Alice was sat next to Arwel, and I noticed she was in full female conversation mode, all little touches to his arm and rapt attention when he spoke, and I had to rewind myself a little, horns pulled in. Their business, not mine.

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The boys were off home the next day, along with Arris and Steve, and it was an emotional farewell after all the drama. Jim wanted to know when we would next have the brood across, and when we could next go West, and when the next camping trip was and…I had a moment of sober inspiration. Once they were out of the door, I rang Bev.

“Home pharm calling Brown Cow”

“Hiya, Sar, how’s the head?”

“Better now…some of my mother’s soup and some stolen chips helped. I’ve been thinking: before you do the Registry Office two-step, were you planning on having a hen night?”

“I was, but it won’t be a traditional one. I’m sort of preggers, so I can’t do the stilts and piss-up bit”

“That was my thought. I’ve had an idea. Why don’t we have a sort of girls and mothers weekend? Find somewhere nice, camp out with the kids, have a bit of a barbie and a drink together. With the kids there’ll be no temptation to get too wrecked. If Alice is healing OK, and we find somewhere with chalets or something for her, what do you think?”

“That sounds ideal, Sar! You should stay sober more often!”

Oh you bitch! “I think I know just the place. I’ll make some checks and get back to you. Somehow, I think our two shop girls might not be interested in this one.”

I did indeed have just the place in mind. The on-site brewery did sort of help settle my choice, but I’d mention that later.

CHAPTER 73
The day finally came for our little excursion and we loaded up the car with bikes, tents and all the usual impedimenta.

Even though it was to be Bev’s hen night, we had four men with us, in the shape of Jim, Andy's nephews, and little Stevie. My logic was that the presence of the kids would help slow down any excesses, and there was also the site rule banning single sex groups.

We were off to a little place in the New Forest called Red Shoot, where the campsite in question is part of a complex involving the pub and brewery. Alice had a room in the pub, and the rest of us set out our stall in bags and on mats, with a barbeque of our very own. Once we were unpacked, Arris set off for town to buy out the local butcher and vintner, and we made our own little canvas and nylon village. We were staying two nights, the Friday as a clan gathering and the Saturday for some gentle cycling and then a night of ritual human sacrifice and debauchery, or a barbie and some laughs. It wasn’t a huge group. Bev came down with Anne and Suzy, while I brought Jim, Alice and Andy’s nephews, while, to my surprise, an enthusiastic Enid rode in with Janet. Arris brought her brood, whilst much later that evening Siá¢n drove in with Elaine, Ellie and Karen. We had a quorum. We also knew where to hire the extra bikes.

Neither Jim nor I would demean our status as serious cyclists by riding hired bikes, but the others needed the option. I wasn’t going to drag them over silly distances, but a day out at the watersplashes and watching the ponies was our hope. As long as it didn’t rain ,of course, but this was at a time of Indian Summer, where the warm days stretched on seemingly forever. We ate in the pub that first night, and then sat with our glasses watching the children play on the ropes and climbing frame, and once they were abed we sat round a little gas lamp and swapped stories of men, good and bad, and tried to frighten Bev out of her planned nuptials.

I was avoiding any mention of Andy’s past lifestyle, but as we bustled round when Elaine and co arrived, Bev collared me.

“You don’t need to skate round things, you know. I have had chapter and verse from himself, and it is not a problem”

“What, it doesn’t bother you that half the women you pass in the High Street have met your bloke with their kit off?”

“A little, but I’m the one he’s kept after the test drive. And I’m the one he dumped his porn collection for”

“You now owe me a new glass of vino, you sod. Come on, you have a court to order about, and there are four girls without drinks. And Bev…”

“What?”

I hugged her. “Thanks for letting him grow up at last. He’s a good bloke, he’s just been a little badly done by, and mostly by himself. He’s a good man, and I think he’ll make a good dad”

“Oh, I know all that. That’s why I’m marrying him and getting all fat”

She grinned. “That, and his utterly delicious arse!”

The next day we were off to the hire centre in Ringwood (did I mention there is another brewery there too?) and then we began a gentle pootle around the lanes of the northwest Forest until we found ourselves at Moyles Court, where there is a ford, and as we waited for the older pair to join us after a bit of motor touring, the alleged adults reclined on the grass as the younger ones tore backwards and forwards through the water until completely soaked, waves of water soaring out from the speeding bikes. I deliberately write “the alleged adults” rather than “we”, and I will not be revealing who was in which camp.

And there was an ice cream van. And ponies and stuff. And the sun shone on our silliness, as I watched the children squeal and laugh. So different to my own hen night and, in truth and speaking as a mother, so much the sweeter.

We had had lunch as a picnic delivered by Alice and Enid at the ford, and after all the exertions we were ready for some serious carnivory after we had returned the bikes and collected our cars again. Back to the campsite, a doze in the sun after a shower, and we were ready for our evening. Elaine lit the barbeque, and after the smoke had died down we started with some lamb chops and vegetable shishkebabs, chunks of onion, courgette and green and red peppers alternating with whole mushrooms, all soaked in a barbeque sauce. Small pieces of salmon, wrapped in foil and soaked in lemon juice with dill and chives, chunks of feta cheese covered with cayenne pepper and also cooked in foil, and of course burgers for the kids. Jim liked the salmon, but shuddered at his first taste of the feta. Ah well, all the more for me. Enid and Alice had shopped for salad, and bread, and other Nice Things that involved chocolate and cream, and by the time it was half seven we were feeding well and I was still only on my second pint.

This was indeed good living. We were not getting drunk, we were killing ourselves by gluttony instead, but it was all at such a leisurely pace that it didn’t seem like it. Girls were sitting or lying around, laughing loudly or quietly, forming and reforming little conversational groups. Kids were running around laughing, or stuffing themselves on “burgers with the lot” , though we’d avoided going all Aussie there, and then at nine PM the campsite manager came walking across with a cake, so Bev got a bit weepy, and we all had a cuddle, and though I reckon I had quite a few drinks it was also done at such a gentle pace that I didn’t feel drunk.

We teased Suzy, of course. When would he, had he, was he going to, all variations on the same question. Those of us who were old married women took a back seat, even Janet having a bit of an edge due to her ring, and finally, as Bev used finely-honed debating skills and a sneaky ice pack to the bare thigh, Suzy cracked and admitted that she was gong to ask him herself if he didn’t make the move.

As I was a little out of the teasing loop, I was able to spot how Anne was reacting, and soon realised she seemed a little out of sorts. On my own hen night, she had got absolutely pissed, and dissolved into floods of tears and silliness. Here, she was a lot more sober, and I could see how she was feeling her isolation more keenly. I took the chance to go to the ladies’ with her, and asked her outright if she was OK.

“No, not really, I feel really out of things here.”

“Problems with Jon?”

“There is no Jon. He has called everything off; I still see him at Pat’s charity group, but that’s all. No meals, no coffees, no Church together…I don’t know what I’ve done wrong, Sar”

Being a fundamentalist religious nutter…no, not fair, not fair at all. If Anne had been as bad as she had seemed, we would never have got past her bigotry. She had come forward, in the end, and put herself out to accept Alice.

“Has he sad anything about his family, Anne? Could it be something to do with them?”

“Well, it turns out that he has an odd one, Sarah. His parents are divorced and his father has a new wife”

“That’s not odd, Anne, that’s almost obligatory these days!”

I thought for a minute. “Just hazarding a guess, Anne, but what do you think about that sort of situation? You know, divorce and remarriage?”

“Well, it’s not right, is it? I mean, divorce is wrong, so he can’t really remarry…oh, hell, you think he’s hiding from me because he thinks I’ll hate his family. That’s silly!”

“Anne, just think of what you just said to me, unthinkingly. Think of Bev and Andy with a child you would curse as born in and from sin. Think of my sister, and her wife, and how they would react, I think that’s what Jon fears. He probably shares your views, but he isn’t going to tell his stepmother that, is he?”

I could see her thinking it through. “Anne, you just make your religion a little too public. ‘Judge not’, remember?”

“But I don’t…I do, don’t I?”

I just nodded. “Talk to him, Anne, talk to him as we have just done and show him that you can be true in your faith without having to tell everyone else how wrong they are. Sorry to be blunt, but that I think is what he fears. Above all, think about what Suzy’s just said. If Hywel doesn’t play the game, she’s going to take the game to him.

“Don’t be a weathercock, Anne, go out and make your own life. And always remember you have friends here.”

Bev had come up behind her, as I spoke, and she just wrapped her in a hug.

“You can deal with my situation, and you do it well. Let him see that side of you. If he is worth anything, he will understand. And Sarah is right, you have friends here you have earned”

That was indeed a good night.

CHAPTER 74
I woke slowly the next morning, taking a while to work out who was snoring with an arm across my chest and a mass of hair in my face.

Bev, of course, as we had put all the kids in with Arris in her mighty extravaganza. Janet was on my other side, and she was bleating. There is no other word for the noise she made in her sleep, a rhythmic but quiet “baaaaa”. I thought of all the Christian parables about sheep, and about Pat, and my warped sense of humour got me giggling, and the fit of giggles reminded me that I had a full bladder, and of course I had a woman either side of me.

I do not know how I managed it, but somehow I disengaged Brown Cow’s forelimb, slid my bag down past my feet (ooh chilly!) and in a pose rather like some Egyptian sky god I climbed over her and out of the tent, barefoot in pyjama bottoms and an Eeyore T-shirt Jim had bought me. Barefoot I padded over the grass and then ooh-ah-eehed barefoot across gravel to the toilets, where I did what was needed. There is a joy that is common to both sexes, and I can speak from experience, and that is what is coyly referred to as ‘easing’.

Or, to put it another way, “Aaaaaaaaaah!!!!!”

I ambled back after the initial gravel, the grass damp and amazingly sensuous under my feet, and quietly started a brew, the stove gentlyhissing as I set the kettle on the flames. There was a very thin mist in the woods outside the camp site, but the sun was already burning it away and with the complete lack of wind I was warm enough. Elaine stuck her head out of her tent and smiled.

“Two, white, no sugar, wench”

I just missed her with the tea bag.

I handed in two mugs a couple of minutes later, and Siá¢n stirred to the sounds of six children trying to be quiet but forgetting that tent walls are not brick walls. I took another mug over to Arris, and of course I then had Anne and Suzy, Ellie and Karen…sod making breakfast. I needed to invest in a bigger bladder, obviously.

I soon had help, though, as Arris’ mothering node took charge and she started the rustling process. We commandeered a small flock of picnic tables and in a remarkably short time six small entities were tucking into cornflakes and then bacon sandwiches.

THAT was the trigger for the vocal duo to emerge from my tent. I have heard vegetarians say that the one thing that tempts them from their path of righteousness is the smell of bacon frying, and it definitely brought forth my lamb and cow pairing. The adult breakfast followed the children’s, as they ran off to the play area exhibiting far too much energy, which would hopefully be boiled off before we packed them back into the cars.

For that was it for the weekend. Four people had to make their way to the far West and most of the rest of us to Kent. Arris had the easiest trip, but then she was in a car on her own with three bundles of joy who were still going to be hyper on fresh air. That thought warmed me. All of our children were well used to camping and the outdoors, and in their company Ian and Kevin seemed to be loving it too. No couch potatoes, no obsessive video gaming; could there be hope for the future?

Janet was groaning. I looked her over, as Bev ambled past humming en route to the ladies’.

“Sore head?”

“No, neck and back. How do you do this so often? Give me a five star hotel room any day!”

“Wimp!”

“No, just older. Sarah, thank you for inviting me. I owe you a lot of thanks, you know”

“Don’t be silly, Janet. What have I done to bring that out?”

“Brought me out, made me a friend, shared your friends and family with me, found me a husband and partner, yeah, nothing much at all!”

She turned more serious. “Tony was almost right, you know, in not trusting me. I didn’t have a clue what I was doing when I accosted you, I could have caused you so much grief, and as for poor Alice…”

“ ‘Poor’? I have never met anyone stronger than Alice. Once she made that decision, she stuck with it, damn the torpedoes. Just look at the way she has bounced back from being technically bloody dead!”

Janet started to chuckle at that, and as she made some joke about zombies and eating brains the elder ones appeared from the pub, clearly just post a professional breakfast. They looked a lot fresher than Janet. She took one look, came to the same conclusion, and groaned again, muttering about hotels.

Bev was back a little later, dressed and abluted, and nattering with Karen and Ellie.

“Sar, Ellie’s doing me a discount, but I’ve got to invite her over to both the wedding and the blessing. Is that fair?”

“Well, it means you get to see more of my family, so that must be a win-win, girl”

Alice and Enid were grinning at that. Alice put a hand on Bev’s shoulder, and in a stage whisper gave her the necessary warnings.

“Say goodbye to bacon sarnies if they get their hooks into you, young woman, it’ll be all seaweed and shellfish”

Karen snorted. “I haven’t eaten laver bread for at least….er. well, I only had it once last week”

As the laughter spread, and she began to go pink, she stupidly kept protesting.

“It’s not all sheep and short dogs, you know, all harps and rain!”

“Not at all” sad Enid, drily, “sometimes there are leeks and daffodils and vowel shortages”

And off we went, teasing and joking. There are things that can cause great offence when heard from strangers, but from a friend are warmth incarnate. The sort of remark about shagging sheep that comes from an obnoxiously racist English prick in a Welsh pub becomes an endearment, almost, when it comes from an English friend with a twinkle in their eye. It’s the intent. I can only compare it with what is now coyly called ‘the N-word’. I worked with a young black man for a while in Swansea, a native of Tiger Bay, and he was always calling me ‘my negro’, or calling me THAT word as an exclamation. The circumstances changed the meaning, but if someone else had called him either he would most probably have punched them, rightly. It was like that with the jokes about Welsh stereotypes, and that was the measure of what was quickly becoming a strong network of friendship. Even my cousins, new to the group, picked up on the mood, and I waved them off later with warmth in my heart that almost matched the feelings I had had when I first went to the Oak, heart in mouth, to negotiate with my family.

Alice and Enid both picked up on my mood. I had wondered at Enid’s sharp sense of humanity since that day I had met her, and each time she showed her depths I saw where the love of my life came from. That brought more smirks, and both old biddies just smiled at me. Alice nodded, as Anne and Suzy joined us.

“Life is good, isn’t it?”

I smiled back. “Even better when your best friends are still here to share it with you”

Anne sighed, and took my hand and Suzy’s in hers. “Sometimes, though, we need a little kick up the rear to show us who our friends are. Sarah has been on my case this weekend, talking a lot of sense. I have a lot to learn here about how to deal with conflicts, and I have to keep reminding myself that my Lord consorted with all sorts of people, from lepers to prostitutes and thieves, and I can surely do no less if am to follow his example”

She paused, to look around at the rest of us with our mouths wide open at her comment. Prostitutes, thieves, fucking lepers….

She was grinning at us as we fumed.

“Gotcha!”

I had created a monster.

CHAPTER 75
Back to the grind it was for a week, and then we were off to the Registry Office for the first wedding.

As blunt as that, it was, and of course by ‘first wedding’ I mean the first for Bev and Andy before their blessing, as well as the first of the string I had to attend. And, of course, ‘first’ only if you ignore my own…and so on.

It was an awful lot simpler than ours, of course, and rather than gowns we were in suits. Ellie had come through with her promise for Bev, and I rather suspected that she wasn’t so much giving a discount as carrying a loss, as the table pieces and bouquet were stunning. Sometimes, when family is involved, you lose sight of their talents, and each time I saw her work I realised how talented my cousin was as both a businesswoman and an artist. Clearly, the stupidest person in my family was myself, wasting so many years away from both friends and that family I prized.

Andy stood at the front with his brother beside him, clearly trying not to crane his neck to spot his bride, who entered on the arm of her father, Eddy. She was wearing a cream silk suit, her dark curls loose and crowned with a circlet of Ellie’s flowers. As is traditional, she looked gorgeous, but she was pulling that trick off rather well. No stick-thin glamour model, our Bev, but a solidly built Earth mother, all hips and comforting softness. She was a woman made for maternity, but more than that she was made for Andy, As she arrived beside him, they looked at each other, and her grin matched his. Her father stepped back, positively glowing with pride, and joined her mother.

The Registrar, a woman, went through the “Do yous” and “Will yous”, and asked for the rings. Kevin, the brother not the nephew, of course, dug into his jacket pocket for the box and promptly dropped it on the floor. Blushing, he recovered it and with a murmured apology handed it to the groom. Rings in place, the Registrar asked if they had anything they would like to say. Bev spoke first.

“I just want to say that after years of hard work, soliciting strange men in some very odd places, and sometimes with even odder personal habits, I have finally found one who didn’t run away. Andy, I love you more than I ever thought I could ever have believed possible, and I can’t think of anyone who could make a better father. Apart from my own dad, of course, but that’s apparently illegal, and I should know, being in the trade and all.”

She paused for the laughter to die down. “I am serious in that statement. I have found a man not only with whom to make a new life, but with whom to make new life. Andy, I love you, I can’t say that too often, and you honour me by taking me as your wife”

Eddy muttered, a little too loudly, “Follow that, son”, and blushed when he realised he had been overheard. Andy just smiled.

“I can’t really beat the words my soon-to-be wife has just uttered. So, all I will say is that I love you, I love you more than life, which is odd, because for me, Bev, you are my life, one I never dreamt I could have, and, well, there is nothing that needs adding”

He turned to the Registrar, who smiled, and after the last ritual request for objectors, made the pronouncement.

We took the usual pictures of the signing of the register, and as the certificate was presented to Bev the Registrar said “I always give it to the wife, as she can use it to blackmail hubby if necessary”. More pictures, inside and outside, and then Bev threw her bouquet, which was hilarious. Instead of tossing it backwards over her head, she spun-passed it directly into Alice’s hands, which caused her to drop her walking stick.

Modern digital cameras with video capacity are perfect for times like that.

The reception was quirky, at a restaurant with a French name that did Mexican food, but that was in keeping with the new pairing’s sense of humour. ‘Brown Cow’, I ask you. I thought of that nickname when saw the menu: beef in chocolate sauce–what the fuck?

Small boys and girls did what they do, and big boys and girls what they did, apart from a repeat of Suzy’s performance in the sports club in June. As is traditional, and natural, the guests and celebrants had coagulated into little groups and pairs of mutual interest or attraction, my sisters and cousins ensconced with Suzy and Hywel, Arwel off with Tony, Steve, Eddy, Kevin and Pat, and Janet deep in conversation with two mothers, Enid and, of course, Alice. A small number of random relatives escaped my ability to remember who they were, or why they were there, and I just concentrated on staying absolutely sober as I had the driving duties.

The group dynamics were fascinating. Alice was in full matron mode, gelling seamlessly with the other women of a certain age, as was Janet, while Pat and Arwel did their bloke thing interspersed with little visits to check on their respective… friends. Hywel, on the other hand, seemed joined at the hip to Suzy, just as my sis was to her own partner, both showing the sort of casual contact and affectionate disregard that a deep relationship brings. That stage in life where you no longer have a need to gaze at your beloved, nor to check where they are, because wherever they are you will be, in fact or in spirit, beside them or on your way there, where you reach out a hand and find one already there for you to catch. That was clearly the case with the two girls, but it looked very much as if Suzy and Hywel were getting there too.

Anne was the one I was watching most closely. There was a slim man with her, dark-haired and wearing glasses, that I assumed must be Jon. If he had accompanied her to the wedding, she must have gone some way to sorting out their differences. I joined them, just as Tony let loose a roar of laughter at some bloke thing. I love men, I fancy men, I am in love with two of them, but despite my sort of shared early life, I really don’t understand a lot of what gets them going.

Anne was deep in a two-way chat with Jon when I approached, but she turned from him to smile at me. Resting her hand on his forearm, she said “Jon, this is Sarah my colleague”

He sighed, theatrically. “I was at her wedding, Anne. They covered observation and stuff in my training, you know”

She slapped his arm lightly. “You know exactly what I meant, so behave”

Turning to me, she smiled again. “He agreed to come along to this as long as he was guaranteed a free meal, and then the menu is, well, odd. Chocolate? Are they serious?”

I laughed. “I am ALWAYS serious about chocolate, but I will have it after my steak, thank you”

Jon smiled. “They do do a rather nice-sounding steak with jalapeá±o sauce, you know. You are Pat’s friend, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I am”

“Such a pity he has left his avocation, a great loss to the Church”

He clearly caught something in my expression, as he looked a little embarrassed.

“Sorry, I put my foot in things a lot. Pat is a good man, and I am really happy that he has found someone to love and make a life with, but it is such a pity that the Church has to lose an asset like him”

“I don’t believe it is, Jon, he is staying with the church. If they could accept marriage among their priests, as certain other churches do, there would be no problem.”

He started to protest but I cut him short. “When married priests from other churches decide to become Roman Catholics, to jump ship, they are allowed to keep their wives and yet still be priests. Why not Pat?”

“I have no answer to that one. I suppose, in theory, he could leave, get married, and come back. But I don’t think he would do that, he is very serious about his vows. He would see it as cheating.”

I considered that for a bit. Jon was clearly not just spouting doctrine, he had thought about it, and more than that he clearly cared about Pat. I could see what drew Anne to him. This was something I wanted to explore further, but we were interrupted by a call from Eddy.

“Ladies and gentlemen, your attention please! We have fed and watered, and celebrated my daughter’s wedding to this good and modest man. It is now time to let your hair down. To that end, I have just been informed that your good friend Tony has made a few telephone calls, and his local sports club has not only been persuaded to open a room for us, but to run a disco for those of you with too much energy and not enough of the aforementioned modesty. It is not quite what we planned, but I am sure there will be no complaints! If those driving can fit as many in as possible, I will arrange and pay for taxis for the remainder. To Dover!”

Tony appeared at my side, grinning. “You get predatory when you are sober, love, and I think Jon needed saving. I also think you need to let some steam off”

He looked at the others. “One of the perks of having a wife with a nice bum is dancing with her. Another is sitting quietly with a pint and watching said bottom dance”

I slapped his arm, much like Anne had done. “You will pay for that later, you sod”

He kissed the palm of my hand. “I bloody well hope so, my love!”

CHAPTER 76
So, off we went in a little armada of cars to the site of my rebirth, where Tony had reappeared that first time to bring me my second family, second life.

You could say I have a soft spot for the old building. The bar was open, the DJ was still setting up, and after the first drinks went down Andy and Bev did the traditional twirl around the floor before the rest of us got down and dirty.

Tony was right, I do love my dancing, and it is very much a girl thing. It is what hair is for, after all, to feel it fly as you rock on to the sound and emotion of the music. Unfortunately, but only in a small way, the selection was a little less rock-oriented than I would have liked, but I kept reminding myself that this was not my day, but theirs, and as I saw the happy, soppy, puppy-like grins of two mothers and a father, not to mention Andy and Bev, I soaked up whatever taste-insulting dross the DJ threw at us, and concentrated on getting sweaty. I did make a point, though, of smilingly informing him that any temptation to play anything involving “push pineapple”, or even resembling it, would be hazardous to his health in the extreme.

He grinned back. “I’ve got some older stuff buried, nothing too heavy, but would you accept some T Rex with the bass cranked up a bit? Or perhaps some older Bowie? Oh, and I have some Stones…”

I bought him a pint. He was doing his best, good man that he was, and there are few songs better to strut to than ‘Brown Sugar’ or ‘Jean Genie’, and ‘20th Century Boy’ does have a wonderful bass line, if you can ignore Bolan’s voice, which I tried to. I’m a rock chick, OK? Tony came up with me a few times, and as we cuddled into a slow dance, he whispered “You move so much more sweetly in jeans, love”

“I move just the same, my sweet man”

“Yeah, but I can see it in jeans!”

In the ladies’ later, I was accosted by Suzy.

“Have you clocked Anne? She’s losing lipstick at a faster rate than she used to put it on!”

“Jon?”

“Who else? He’s like a rabbit in bloody headlights, that boy, absolutely mesmerised. Which reminds me…Hywel is still being slow”

“Remember what you said? If he doesn’t, you will?”

I thought for a while, and an idea came, as they sometimes do, even when I am sober. This one didn’t involve John Fowles or Meryl Streep, though. “Suze, follow my lead, OK?”

We cleaned up, and I walked over to Alice. “May I borrow your beau for a few minutes?”

She nodded and I dragged Arwel off a little way.

“Uncle, what is your take on Hywel and Suzy?”

The scarred old monster just grinned. “He’s besotted, he is”

“So why doesn’t he do something about t?”

“He’s scared, aye? You forget, living over here, we’re not the same as you. She’s a professional woman, educated, he’s just a bit of rough, a bit of fun”

I despair of my family sometimes. Fiercely protective, solid together beyond anything I could hope for, but still with that thing the Aussies call a cultural cringe. It’s a Welsh thing, to value education, literacy, and to feel lessened without it. Sod it.

“Uncle Arwel…” I explained what Suzy had been saying at the weekend, and he started to grin.

“He’ll never believe that from me!”

I set out my plan. His grin got wider.

I collared Suzy again, and told her to watch Arwel and me, and to join us at my nod. Arwel and I walked over to the boy, and as he put his pint onto the bar and turned to say something to Tony, Arwel caught him with an armlock that would have made Elaine proud, and turned him from the bar to face me.

“Hywel Powell, you are accused of avoiding responsibility, and what is worse, trifling. We will not have trifling in this family, it stops now!”

He was confused, to say the least, stammering something that seemed to consist mostly of “what?”, and I gave the nod to my friend, who came over to stand in front of him. I continued my accusation.

“You are also accused of being a fuckwit. There is a girl standing in front of you that is in love with you. I am told by a reliable source that you are in love with her, ‘besotted’ was the word. Now, you are going to put that right now, or she will put it right for you. We are going to leave the two of you alone now, and you are going to be sensible, Hywel, or I will come back for you when you are least expecting it and we will have a serious falling out! Release the prisoner!”

Arwel dropped his arm, and muttered “I think you two need to have that serious talk, and outside in private, aye?”

Hywel just nodded, the hint of a smile playing on his lips, and taking her hand headed off towards the exit. Arwel, turned back to me.

“Sometimes I despair of that boy. He has been moaning about how unfair everything is, and she’s just been waiting for him to wake up. Diolch yn fawr, girl. Hopefully he’ll stop mooning about now and get back to being my boy”

“I think he might be Suzy’s boy, now, if you take my meaning”

“Aye, I have that!”

He took a sip of his pint, and almost reading my mind, “Your Alice…I wanted to talk to you about her, girl”

He took me out to a corner of the rugby field where we could talk, trying not to stare at the two figures in the distance who seemed to be engaged in mutual cannibalism.

“I find myself very confused, Sar, and I do not know what to do. This is not an easy one for me. I look at you, and while I remember Sam, you are not him, even though you are, and that makes me realise that there never was a Sam, not really.

“I look at you and I see a middle-aged woman-ow, that hurt, you sod! I see a mother, a wife, and even though I am your blood relative, a lovely bum, and I understand why that good man of yours loves you more than life. He does, you know, so don’t argue.

“Just listen for a bit. I like that old woman an awful lot, she’s the first to get anywhere near understanding me, and she makes me smile, but she is a man, after all, and I am not that way”

“She’s not a man…”

“That is the problem, cariad, she is. I look at her and know that she has padding for breasts and a cock, and it knocks me back”

“Not quite right, love. You may have noticed her chest has shrunk. Those are all hers, now. And I had a cock in my knickers for most of my life, you know that”

“I don’t know how to put this, lass, but it’s like looking at two photos, one over the other. I see the woman who makes me smile, and I get all soppy, and then I see this bald bloke in a dress, and it repels me, aye?”

He drew a deep breath, and with a shock I realised he was crying.

“I love the old bat to bits, you know, she makes me comfortable, makes me happy in my skin, but she is still a man, and I can’t handle that side of things. No, don’t correct me, I know she’s a woman, I told you what I think about pansies and woofters, and she isn’t one of them. I just can’t get past the bloke bits.

“What the fuck do I do, Sar? I don’t want to hurt her, but I can’t get past that bit and make her happy! What do I do?”

Alice’s great dark man was at breaking point. There was only one thing I could suggest, as I hugged him to me.

“Talk to her, love, talk to her. She cares deeply for you, and anything you can offer she will seize with both hands. Talk to her, I will be there if you want”

I held him for a while, then wiped his face for him, and we rejoined the rest. As we went back n, I spotted Suzy at the bar with a grinning Hywel. She gave me a very rude one-fingered salute, I thought, then realised which finger she was holding up. I hugged Arwel again.

“I think those two have just sorted things out!”

CHAPTER 77
After some more dancing, the DJ called a pause in the proceedings while Andy and Bev took their leave. Bev took his mike first.

“Thank you all from my husband and myself, and from the bottoms of our hearts. You have made this as memorable and wonderful a day as we could ever have hoped for. We hope to have a blessing at some point in the future, and as you all know, there is another event in the offing. As for us, we are off to Gatwick now for a flight to Palma and two weeks of tapas!”

Andy followed. “As she is letting me get a word in, all I will say is thank you, to all, and a special thank you to some particularly special people, without whom we would never have met. You know who you are…see you after the honeymoon!”

And they were off, to the waiting taxi and married life. Suzy came over and hugged me. “Job done, girl, and very nicely”

I hugged her back with a smile then excused myself and went looking for Alice, to give her a hint that Arwel might want a chat later, or perhaps in the hope that if he sank further into the despair he had shown outside she might be able to pull him back. She was nattering happily with mothers and Enid, and it took me a little while to entice her away. She was in her element, just another middle-aged woman (sod you, Arwel) engaging normally with others just like her. It was clear that Bev and Andy had warned their relatives about her, and it was just as clear that her charm and sheer normality had won them over.

I untangled her from whatever it s that fossils discuss, and tugged her away to the ladies’.

“Has Arwel said anything to you, love?”

“Not particularly today, Sar. Why? He seems a little distant. What’s up?”

Ah, shit, where to start? I went for the throat. “What are your intentions with my uncle, Alice?”

“Bloody hell, that’s a bit formal. Something is up with him, isn’t it?”

“I need an answer of some kind, Alice, just in case things turn to ratshit. Please…”

She sighed, and there was real weariness in her. “I suppose things have changed since the accident. I have had a chance to really look at myself; dying does that for you. Sarah, I thought all my Christmases had come at once when you and Enid took me out of that rut I was in. I was finally able to be myself, finally free, and it was everything I had ever wanted. I had never really dreamt of anything more than that, anything that could top it. Can you understand?”

“Yes, love, I have been there, just not anywhere near as long”

“Well, that all changed when I was hit. I had had Enid, and Jim, and I was settling into my happy life as a maiden aunt, and then it was knocked sideways. When I could think again, when I woke up, you were there, all of you. I know how utterly wrecked you were afterwards, how much you and all your family did for me, and it made me selfish. I wanted more. Not in a bad way, but I decided that I didn’t want to die comfortable, I wanted to die happy”

“Alice, please don’t talk of dying, that was too close for any of us”

She smiled wryly. “It concentrates the mind beautifully, though. I lay there, and as I came and went I saw Tony care for you as you looked after me, and Pat and Janet, Bev and Andy, I could go on. I remember a dream where I was trying to say ‘great dark man’ to you, and something was stopping me, stopping my voice, as if there was a barrier I had to break through to live”

“That wasn’t a dream, Alice, I was there”

“I just realised I wanted more, that if I was going to live I was going to do it in style, and fully. You asked what I wanted from Arwel, and that is it. I want him. I don’t necessarily mean his body, I still can’t see myself taking that next step without being in much better health. By the way, that surgeon, I sent him a bottle for his kindness in the little extra work”

“Alice, this is where it gets hard, and I really don’t want to interfere too much, do anyone any harm. Arwel is very, very fond of you, he just has a huge hang up about being gay, and he isn’t, by any stretch of the imagination”

“What do you mean ‘hang up’, Sar?”

“Arwel has no axe to grind with homosexuality, he just doesn’t see the attraction. He likes girls, and even though he sees you as one, he also knows what you are physically, and that disturbs him. In truth, I do believe he has fallen for you, but…well, he just gets stuck on the odd bit of body”

“Story of my life, isn’t it?”

“Alice, he is confused, he is hurting, and he has put away his pride, and he is a proud man, to talk to me. Please, I know I shouldn’t have to ask you this, but just please, be gentle with him. Don’t hurt my uncle. Talk to him, see what you two might be able to compromise on. Just don’t push too hard. Life isn’t a fairy story, we’re all old enough to have a lot of history”

There was a cough behind me. “I thought it was me that was supposed to do the talking, girl. You never could stay out of things, could you?”

He was smiling, though. Tiredly, nervously, but still smiling.

“I think the two of us have need of a long chat, Alice. Now, I remember a pub down the road, so if you don’t mind, I’d like to take a walk down there for a bit of privacy, away from helpful friends”

He turned to me. “Sarah, love, you have a good heart, but it’s time for the two of us to do our own sorting, otherwise we never will, aye?”

“Point taken, uncle, but I do have one question”

“Aye?”

“What the fuck are you doing in the ladies’ toilets?”

He laughed. “Well, I wanted to get my two penn’orth in before you stitched me up, didn’t I? Come on, woman, let’s leave this middle-aged housewife to her scheming and do some of our own”

And they were off, leaving another couple of girls looking rather puzzled as he left. I wandered out into the function room again, feeling a little dazed, and ran straight into a grinning Suzy. She just said one word: “YES!!” and gave me a rib-breaking hug.

“So tell all, woman”

“He was thinking exactly what his dad said he was, the daft bugger, he thought I was having a bit of fun with the well-hung pheasant, I mean peasant”

“So what’s the score, then?”

“Sarah, you sod, I spent an hour waiting to try that pun on you and you just ignore it. He has admitted he is a fuckwit, and apologised for thinking what he did of me, and I sort of hinted that if he plays his cards right I might forgive him…and he sort of asked me if I wanted to make it a bit more formal. So I told him off for trying to tie me down without due process, and, well, he sort of duly processed.”

“Do you mean what I thought you meant waving that finger?”

“Yup!”

Even though I already knew the answer, I had to feed her the straight line. “So apart from proposing, what will he have to do to be forgiven?”

“Not much…just fuck me till I’m too sore to walk, no biggy. Well, it is a biggy, actually…”

“Suzy, wipe your mouth, you are drooling. And congratulations, love, you two work well together. No, wash your mind out right now…oh, for fuck’s sake, get your head out of your knickers for once. How are you doing this? Just letting people know, or making some sort of announcement?”

She turned a lot more serious. “Sar, doing things with a big announcement in public is a bit like blackmail. You know those things where blokes propose at sports grounds and that, never gives the girl a chance to decide properly. Those who are important to us will know, everyone else will find out naturally. I don’t want this to be a case of feeling that because we are at a wedding he has to propose, I want it from him because he wants me. Enid and Anne know, and Janet, so the rest will find out as and when they talk. For a big, hard boy, he is quite shy, you know”

She grinned. “Sweet, isn’t it?”

CHAPTER 78
Eventually the evening wound down. It had been a long, long day, and I was still shuddering at the thought of steak in chocolate sauce.

Sometimes something just grabs you by the back of the mind and clings on muttering.

I was tired. Not just from the dancing and the long day, but from emotion. My parents had tried to lead me away from trying to sort others’ lives out, and all that happened was that those lives sought me out. So far, it had been mostly misunderstandings, misapprehensions, and in essence people’s unwillingness to see their true worth. There was Hywel, convinced he was just a bit of rough, some short-term fun. Andy, absolutely certain he was so despised by adult women that he had to remain an adolescent. Jon, who seemed to worry that Anne would put doctrine above affection, and that woman herself , who could not slacken her faith and feared that it was the thing driving Jon away.

Just like me, really. I had hidden, I had run, I had feared, and I had been wrong, it seemed, and despite my parents’ nagging it was me they came to.

Then, once more, there was Arwel. I didn’t have a clue as to what, if anything, I could do to sort him out. There was a man’s man, not exactly a homophobe, and certainly from my experience not a ‘transphobe’ (horrible word) but finding himself falling for a little bald man in a dress and wig. I was a little frightened of my uncle. He had always been willing to turn to violence as a young man; not exactly a thug, but someone who never, ever stepped back. I had no fears he would lash out at Alice: that wasn’t his style. What worried me was that he might turn that deep anger, that viciousness, on himself.

I knew my uncle, and the one thing that always sat in his mind was being true to himself, true to his image of manhood. What would he do if he couldn’t live as he saw fit? I was worried. At that moment, though, he was deep in conversation with Alice, and she seemed to be doing an awful lot of touching, to his arm, to his hand, to his knee as she went to get some drinks, and once to his lips to shush him when he was clearly on too much of a conversational roll.

He wasn’t pulling away, or showing any objection n his face, but was that the alcohol, or acceptance? If the former, would it be guilt next?

Tony came up to me, wrapping me up from behind, obviously picking up on my mood.

“Love, this is our second wedding in a row without a fight, which is normally a miracle. Leave them to it, there is nothing else you can do but be there for both of them.”

He moved my hair aside and kissed the back of my neck. “And I will be there for you and them, you know that. Now, we need to get small people away, and I have had beer, and beer means we need to stop at the Charcoal Grill for some elephant’s leg with all the trimmings”

“You are not snogging me after garlic sauce, Hall”

“Chilli sauce, then, and if you have some too we’ll match”

Oh, you smooth romantic bugger. We gathered together the small herd of children and started the round of goodbyes. Suzy was, of course, taking Hywel back to hers, sharing a taxi with Anne, who was busy saying goodnight to Jon rather enthusiastically in a corner. Arwel, to a certain level of surprise on my part, was using the spare room at Enid and Alice’s place.. Back off, Sarah, back off.

We made quite a group for the kebab shop, four children and eight alleged adults, as Pat and Janet had also decided that alcohol needed topping up with grease. I don’t know what Mehmet the owner made of us, because even the children were dressed ’tidy’, as they say back home. Griddled pitta bread, filled with shavings of…something large and greasy rotating on a vertical spit, topped up with masses of salad and red sauce, with just a few pickled green chillies on top. The kids, of course, went for something more to their taste, burgers and chips. Clutching our bags we made the short walk back to our house, all adults paired up, hand n hand, as life should be. Janet was very slightly drunk, but it was hard to tell whether that was with alcohol or the simplicity of being able to show and receive affection in public.

The children were still bouncing, having had a long afternoon and evening of chasing each other round sports fields and function room, of dancing and laughing. I carried a certain vicarious pride that my boy was still the best little dancer of the lot, with a real passion for music and seemingly devoid of those inhibitions that make most boys shuffle from foot to foot rather than let rip on the floor. We had put them all in one room, and with a few small controls we knew they were going to have an all-nighter of sorts. There are times children must be left alone to be kids, to work through their own excitement. They would catch up on sleep later.

Into the house, and out of the shoes. Bliss! I got the kettle going for the sane people in skirts, and issued orange squash to the smaller ones, while the lunatics in trousers descended like locusts on some of Tony’s malts. I held up a hand.

“Before you start on Highland Park or Old Seaweed or whatever, don’t you think it might be better to get the kebabs out of the way first? It’ll taste better unmixed with peppers!”

Pat nodded. “White, no sugar then, my dear!”

Remember what I said about wondering if being a woman was a rational choice? Well, obviously, it’s not a choice, is it, but my point is valid. Men make some huge assumptions, especially when they have their arse in a comfortable chair.

I did my wifely/hostess duties and distributed teas and paper towels for greasy fingers, and for a while there was almost silence as jaws masticated and mouths slurped. Janet was slumped against her man as they ate, and Ali was perched on her dad’s knee attacking a burger that seemed wider than her head. I had a little epiphany, a little moment, reflecting on how I was sitting happily in my own family’s home, with treasured guests after a wonderful day, and it was all so normal, so beautifully mundane that I was blissfully happy. I squeezed my husband’s thigh and whispered in his ear “How much sleep shall I let you have tonight?”

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The following day, a Sunday, Enid had offered a buffet lunch before people had to set off for Reading and Wales, so after a long lie in I got very gingerly (oh god, what a night….) out of bed to pick up after Arris had sorted the kids’ breakfasts out, and then started putting together something for the adults. Arris was grinning.

“Bore da, John Wayne!”

“You’re just jealous cause mine’s newer than yours”

“If you’re not careful, you’ll wear it out, girl”

“Mmmmmmm what a way to go!”

Two confused men eventually gave up trying to work out what was so funny. Being Welsh is very useful.

We spent the morning with the kids playing board games, reading or just dozing after their midnight adventures, and then as we were all waking up properly loaded up Steve and Tony’s cars for the run out to Alice’s. Suzy’s car was out the front, next to Arwel’s bus, and Ellie and Karen were straight back out of the house to load their bits and pieces for the trip back.

The two older women had laid out a feast, which was optimistic in the extreme considering the quantity we had got through the day before. The children needed sensitive steering, of course, away from pud and sweet stuff and onto cold meats and salad first. Kids will be kids, of course, and I had a quick check around for tins of Quality Street or similar sweets. I know my boy.

What I was also checking on, of course, was how Arwel was behaving now he was sober. Hywel was easy, he was as welded to Suzy as if he would fade away if the connection was broken, and she looked much the same. It was the older two I was watching.

It seemed OK, and they were keeping quite close, physically. She loaded his plate for him, and there was a small argument about how much he was allowed to eat. She was at the table, selecting a mix for both of them, he was demanding more, and she was saying no. So, Arwel being Arwel, he got up to top up his plate. Alice said something, and he just slipped his arm round her waist for a hug before going back to his seat.

And as he stepped away he quite casually patted her backside.

CHAPTER 79
All vehicles loaded, they were off to the West at last, and of course I kept a close eye on the older two.

There was no goodbye snog, not even a peck on the cheek from either, but she got a hard one-armed hug before he climbed into his bus. Both seemed to be smiling, though, so things seemed to have reached some sort of equilibrium. I still had no illusions that he was going to launch into some great romantic escapade with her, but at least he wasn’t lashing out so far, either at her or himself.

It was a tribute to Alice’s reality that he seemed, in the main, to see her as herself rather than, as he put it, a bald man in a dress. She was so naturally herself that I was finding it hard to remember Alan, and that showed how much something as simple as his beard had closed off her soul. Even at that moment of horror that still played itself out in slow motion in my dreams, as she rose up over the bonnet of Ripley’s car and her wig flew off, she was still herself. Her personality shone through any physical limitations, and those were lessening with time.

She had lost a lot of muscle mass in hospital, as well as a lot of excess flab, and never having been anything of an athlete she didn’t have that breadth or top-heaviness that comes from hard physical work. Her new breasts were never going to grow that big, but they were definitely there, and they were all her. Long sessions with Andy’s friend had removed the stubble the man himself had commented on (how well I remembered that particular bit of fun) and one unexpected benefit of that beard had been the avoidance of years and years of shaving, so that her skin had come out even better.

No, she was dumpy, she had a minimal figure, but she was looking better and better as the months went by. The one thing she had been blessed with was small extremities: her hands and feet were very small for a ‘man’, which definitely helped. If only that bugbear of new girls, male pattern baldness, had skipped her genetics.

Pie had, of course, come with us, so as Tony quite deliberately took tow hyperactive youths for a stroll I had some time with Enid and Alice to catch up. I had already tried for a quick situation report from Enid in the kitchen at a quiet moment, but she had refused to break confidence. Once we had cleared the decks, I bearded Alice, so to speak.

“I take it the two of you have talked.”

“Yes, we have. To be honest, I don’t know if it is really something I can be fully open about, Arwel is a very private man in respect to this sort of thing”

I thought for a while…no, I had to be as open with her as I could. I would and could deal with any consequences from Arwel, and I needed them both to be safe. Enid just sat quietly listening.

“Alice, he was crying on me the other day. I am scared for my uncle, and I know this is between you, but all I want is to know he is OK. If he gets angry, he lashes out, and when he gets confused or frustrated, he gets angry”

“Arwel would never hit me”

“No, but he might hit Alan, and if he gets confused he might forget who you really are”

“Sarah, even so, do you think a man so proud in his strength would lower himself to beat up a pathetic shrimp like Alan?”

I looked sharply at her. She smiled, slightly sadly. “Love, I always felt that ‘Alan’ was an act, a role I played. He died when I was in hospital. I just sort of thought that as I had to be resuscitated it would be a rebirth as well. Can you understand that?”

“Oh you silly woman, of course I can. You’re missing the point, though. I don’t want you to think I’m forgetting you, but it’s him I worry about?”

“Who? Alan? He’s dead, I told you!”

“Will you be serious for a bit? You know full well who I mean. I’m worried that he will do something, and to himself. He’s a stiff-necked old bugger, and you have knocked him sideways. You have moved all his goalposts around.”

I paused. She seemed in too good a mood. “Have you….you know, been, well…”

She started to laugh “Have I had my wicked way with him? You are being just a little previous there, my girl! I don’t have the equipment, for a start!”

“Well, I sort of managed rather well with Tony before, you, know, em…”

“Ye gods! For someone who has been heard, and I quote, screaming to have her brains fucked out, you are coming over very bashful!”

Enid giggled at that. I snapped back.

“Yes, but that’s me, and I am talking about my bloody maiden aunt and my aged uncle!”

“Very well-aged indeed…”

“Will you please be serious for a minute? It is a serious matter, and I am fucking worried, because I love both of you and I AM FUCKING TERRIFIED!”

She looked down at her hands, sighing. “I don’t know what I can really say, my dear. I must admit, from my side of the fence, it is simple. I love the old thug to bits. He has a real mind behind all that spiv acting, beneath all that ‘who ate you looking at?’ posing. He can argue, really debate, and he cares”

I thought of his reported conversation with Joe. “Yes, he cares, but that is generally for family. You are either in or out”

Alice looked sharply at me. “How long were you out of contact with him? Rather a while, wasn’t it? Here’s a hint: next time you see him, watch the news with him. And listen. He has very strong views, and the one common thing in there is fairness. I am beginning to think I know my Arwel better than his niece does, and she should remember one simple fact: his brother is her father, and they are stamped from the same die.”

She sighed again. “I’m sorry to snap at you, love, but it isn’t exactly easy for me. He is everything I could ever have dreamed of, and that makes it harder on both of us. If, IF, I’d been born the way I should have been if this world held any justice, he’d be on me like a shot.”

I stared at her. She made another sigh, this one of exasperation. “That is not the be-all and end-all of all relationships, you know. Even people your age get happily married where one has lost the ability to do what you seem to be fixated on.”

She grinned. “It would still be rather fun, though! No, there is no prospect of anything like that. I know I am looking a lot better as the weight comes off, but he still sees me as a bloke in a dress. To be honest, he does make me wonder if I should take that extra step, but I don’t know if I would pass the necessary fitness test, and, to be honest, I’ve had rather too much of hospitals recently.

“Look, Sarah, Arwel will make his own decisions, with or without our input. Just be aware that I am getting to know him rather intimately, if not quite like that. I know, in my heart, that he would never, ever harm me, just as he would never harm you, or Hywel, or any other member of his family. As far as he is concerned, I am part of that family”

“Yes, but-“

“And I know your fears, I worked that bit out myself. I have his promise that he will never do anything like that, not without talking to me first. He has also asked me a favour in return”

She seemed as if she were preening a little.

“What is that?”

“He asked, very simply, that if I was going to get, in his words, ‘it all fiddled about with down there’, I would promise him that I wasn’t doing it for him. He had already worked out the risks, you see, and he said:”

She adopted a truly atrocious Welsh accent. “Look you, don’t you be getting something so dangerous done, see, old woman bach, and be putting your life at risk for me, look you, for such a meaningless little maggot”

“He didn’t say that.”

“Yes he did.”

“Nope, he wouldn’t call you male. ‘Bach’ is masculine when you use it like that; and he doesn’t say ‘look you’, he says ‘aye’ “

“Well, those were almost his words. I just can’t do the accent. Seriously, and without revealing any more secrets, he is confused about a lot of things, but he knows that he cares for me, in some way that he needs to sort out in his own mind”

She drew a deep breath. “And he knows that I am in love with him. I told him that to his face”

“And how the hell did he take that?”

She grinned. “I think he was quite flattered, and I was rather chuffed at that”

Enid finally spoke. “Chuffed? She was in bloody tears of joy when she told me! Look, Sarah, I have tried to keep silent here, but I have been watching my friend here very, very closely. I am not letting her get away from me a second time because of someone’s stupidity. Trust me, and her, for now. Please. This could work, if two people are left a little room to find some way of their own. Let’s all take a step back and see what happens, can we?”

The door banged, and there was the sound of man, boy and dog. Both humans seemed a little worried about my tears, but Enid shushed them.

“Just woman’s things. Nothing to worry about.”

CHAPTER 80
I had to take the hints, I had to back down and out, but I still worried.

I was also surprised at her mental strength. What had happened to the friend who had hidden all her life, too frightened to come out into the world? It seemed she was right: that person had died on a hospital bed. Some people change personality markedly after a head injury as bad as hers, but I didn’t think it was that. She really seemed to have had an awakening rather than a change, and I suspected it was a case of her seeing that the world had done its worst, and she was still in it.

Whatever the reason, though, this was a much harder personality. Not cruel, just less likely to back down or run from obstacles. I realised that I had seen a hint of that when she made her unilateral decision to come out. It was time for me to take stock and let her get on with it, but I still had her back, in both senses.

We had a lot to do at work, anyway. All the recent events had left us a little short-staffed through the Summer, and the last locum had been less than efficient, which meant a lot of working through his notes and trying to decipher his handwriting. It was so bad he should’ve been a doctor.

Thankfully, the stock records are computerised, as are the repeat prescriptions, but the scrip from the doctors is handwritten, and matching it all up was a bugger. Our glorified temp believed in filing everything under ‘B’ for ‘Bitsapaper’. After a week of ordering said bits into date order for starters, I was tearing my hair out. The usual suspect was off on bloody honeymoon, the two girls were somewhat distracted, Alice wasn’t able to spend long periods at work yet, so as usual it all fell on me. I made sure the kettle stayed warm, and apart from the resulting runs to the toilet I got my head down and slogged away.

Both the girls were good, though, only disturbing me when something needed authorisation, and occasionally popping over the High Street to return with coffee and chocolate. They knew my needs.

While Suzy just wandered around smugly, Anne was a changed woman. Some accommodation had obviously been reached with her new man, apart from the saliva exchanges we had all witnessed, and so I was a little surprised when she started popping out at lunchtimes again. This time, though, there was no plastering job, no gas warfare. I decided that it was safe, now, to ask.

“Anne, love, where are you off to at lunchtimes?”

“Oh, just to Church”

Oh shit. “Er, what’s doing there at lunchtimes? I tend to think of it as a Sunday thing”

“Oh, there’s a pastoral group meeting twice a week. Sort of an outreach thing, not the style at my old Church.”

“Old church?”

I was turning into a bloody echo.

“Yes, I moved. I had a difficulty with, em, the doctrinal interpretations of one of the priests there, and Jon sort of invited me along to see how his Church did things, and, well, I sort of stayed…”

So a certain priest had lost his little fun breaks, then. ‘Doctrinal interpretation’, my arse.

“I gathered from the wedding that you two had sorted things out. How are you doing now?”

She smiled. “We have both recognised we can be a little quick to see problems, and far too quick to try and solve ones that aren’t really there. We see life the same way, after all, and each of us was imagining things about how the other thought that weren’t true. It’s like you, you think I am all hooked up to Opus Dei and that, don’t you?”

I had to admit that, yes, I did.

“Well, I did sound them out a while ago, and their outlook makes great sense. The sanctity of work is what I aim for, to do my best, to be my best.”

“Don’t they go in for whipping and all that?”

“That was my sticking point. Sar, you must know I fast regularly, partly as a penance, and partly to remind myself that many people can’t pop across the road for a coffee, can’t even trust their local water. I pray, Sar, and I do it without comforts, so I know how frail I am compared to my Saviour, and how I need Him. I looked at mortification of the flesh, quite seriously, for that’s what you meant, isn’t it?”

“Yes, like that mad monk thing in that film”

“Bloody stupid film, dreadful book, and so poorly written. But yes, that is what a lot of them do, and I found the idea offensive. The Lord did not give me this body so I could damage it wilfully.

“That was one of the things I couldn’t handle about Alice, that she had such a desire to mutilate herself”

I sighed, the memories still fresh. “You do know that the only alternative she could see was death?”

Anne put her hand on mine and squeezed. “Yes, I have done an awful lot of reading since this came up, and Pat has been quite literally a Godsend, and I believe that deeply, in clearing away ambiguities. The small beetle, he calls it, or Pat’s Razor”

I groaned. “The lesser of two…”

“Weevils, yes. But he came up with the Razor himself, after Occam. He says that it is impossible to live a life without sinning, so while one must always strive to avoid sin, when it comes to the point where all choices in front of you are sinful, choose the least harmful option. God doesn’t expect perfection in His creatures, just that they try their best,. Why is such a man leaving the priesthood, Sar?”

“Because he is a man, Anne, and he has found a woman to fall in love with”

She smiled. “Just now, Sarah, I can fully understand that point of view. I have my own little journey of discovery to do, and it is rather exciting”

With that, she was off, leaving me back in my little world of Sanskrit and random filing.

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Tony brought Jim up to Canterbury that evening by train as we had arranged a few days earlier, and I changed into the other bike gear after work so we could have a family ride back home. Tony had laughed when he first saw my road bike, with its traditional leather saddle, but when I attached my saddle bag to the matching loops and stowed all my work stuff there, as he fiddled with a rucksack, he looked less amused. I filled all our bottles at work, and we set off out past the gaol to the odd meander past school playing fields and housing estates till at last reaching the countryside by a sharp little climb, Past the strawberry and maize fields, down the sunken lane, where a hare shot off through the hedge, carefully over the roundabout, and then Tony tried to sprint past me as Jim giggled.

He took the left turn at speed, following the cycle route sign, and Jim and I shared one of those mother-son knowing looks as his scream came back to us. He’d found the ford–at speed. We walked across the little footbridge as he waited on the other side, a great streak of damp up his shorts and back, dripping from the rucksack. It was some time before we could ride on, two of us, and then three, were laughing so much. I did relent a little, though, and tied his socks to the back of my saddle bag to dry out a little on the way home.

The bit after the ford is rather steep, so for Jim’s sake we walked it until we were onto the top of the Downs, and then we rollercoasted our way home to the waiting dog.

I had to apologise to Tony, after our cruelty, and as Jim released his dog into the back garden for some sport with a football and a rope toy, I followed my husband to his hiding place in the shower, and after carefully locked the door I took all of my own clothes off and joined him. After all, you should save water….

Now, I do know that when I am making love with my bear I tend to lose all rational thought processes, but we weren’t doing that. I soaped his back, feeling all those familiar little bumps and nodules from old injuries, those places I knew so well, and I dug my fingers into the muscles of his back and neck to loosen them, and all the time the warm water was cascading down over us and dribbling off our extremities, our chins, the elbows of my bent arms, his…

When I said we weren’t making love, I lied. Jim made himself a sandwich, sensible boy.

CHAPTER 81
Andy and Bev were back, tanned and happy, and of course with a shedload of pictures to show everyone, not just from the honeymoon, but also from the wedding itself.

Suzy wanted to see them, and to see them NOW. Andy was adamant.

“Sunday afternoon, the marital home, bring snacks and stuff, and we can make an evening and afternoon of it. As an ex-bachelor, I have the tools that lesser mortals merely dream of!”

Bev just sighed. “A bloody great plasma screen thing that takes up too much of the living room. It’s on the ‘to be sorted by mutual agreement’ list “

I laughed at that. “What happens if he doesn’t agree, Bev?”

“Then it goes onto the ‘because Bev says so’ list instead. The speakers in the bathroom can stay, though”

“Speakers? Bathroom?”

“Yes, he has his stereo piped through into the bathroom. It’s actually rather sweet; turn the lights off, a few candles, some nice music, a hot bath…”

Andy continued “Mug of tea, good book….ow!”

“I was about to say ‘snuggling back into my spouse’ but you had to spoil it!”

“OK, two mugs of tea then!”

Bev was showing well, now, and told me that she had already had a few scans that showed all was normal in the developing little bundle. There was an obvious question to ask, and Suzy beat me to it. Bev smiled.

“We don’t want to know the baby’s sex till, well, till I’m holding it, but we have already thought of the names for both. If it’s a boy, after his father and mine, Andrew Edward.”

I noticed Andy twitch at the mention of fathers, and remembered sharply his description of his own as having buggered off to Torquay with some woman other than his mum. Bev continued.

“As for a girl, we quite liked the name Rebecca, and, well, there is only one middle name possible, and that’s Alice of course”

My stomach lurched at the mention of Rebecca. If this world had held any justice, those two would have been fat and happy together, like my sisters, not reduced to a small plate in a chapel of remembrance and a collection of old photos. I cheered myself up by looking at Alice, who was blushing with gratification, the old trout. I realised what a huge step this represented for her, not only having made the change into accepted womanhood, but now having a baby girl that might be named after her. I gave Andy an enquiring look, and he just nodded. I pulled him to one side, and he whispered “We thought of fitting Alan in there, but he is dead and should remain so”

My lothario was really growing up. Bev was indeed a lucky girl; sod it, both were. She had seen right to his core, something that Suzy and I had never really managed till that day by the maze. It struck me that in all my attempts to help sort people out, I was nowhere near as understanding as I had thought, and I was grateful I hadn’t managed to totally fuck someone up. Our games with Anne…shit, the damage I could have done. Still, somehow she had come out of it, and the more I saw of Jon the more they seemed admirably suited for each other. If they had to god-bother, best they did it together, and they seemed to be coming to no harm.

That set off another train of thought, from that conversation with Anne. Pat was obviously another god-botherer, but everything he said made sense to me. That version of Occam was so obvious, and yet so rarely understood. Coming from a cleric of a church that routinely condemned so many women to avoidable suffering, it was astonishing. Looking at these two, and thinking back to Becky and Jo, there seemed hope still existed, and there was still a reason to bring new life into the world. I couldn’t, though, and despite Jim’s love I still ached for my own. Just like Andy had, but at least he was physically capable. Ah well, gwell hanner na dim.

I was still n an odd mood as I rode home, and I rode the Kwak on the powerband all the way back, the front end going light a few times as I nailed some gaps in the traffic and passed cars with an acceleration that kicked me hard in the spine. The lights at Husk let me redline the bike from a standstill up to eighty before I consciously reined myself in. I was edgy, moody, and the jog of memory with that name wasn’t enough to explain my angst. I made sure I kept it down through the edge of town, and after I put the bike into our garage I stood next to it listening to the engine ticking and wheezing as it started to cool down.

Our garage. Hang on to that thought, Sarah. Our home, our family, our bed, our lovemaking in the shower.

It didn’t work. It could never be ‘our son’, despite what he called me. I sat in my leathers in the garage and wept.

Jim found me, with the dog trotting beside him. He saw my tears, and came over to cuddle up to me.

“Why are you crying, Mum?”

How could I tell him? How exactly do you explain to your little boy that mummy is just a surgical construct, that she can never be a real mum? I just held him till I could get my tears under control, and then let him pull me to my feet and take me indoors. He made me a cup of tea, and stayed with me as I calmed.

“Mum, I don’t know what has made you sad, but if I can do anything to help just tell me. I’m a big boy now, big enough to help my Mum when she feels bad, and I don’t want you feeling bad. I don’t want to lose another Mum”

I pulled him up onto my lap and I just couldn’t help it, the tears came again, and he was holding me, it seemed.

He pushed himself back off me. “Can I cook tea tonight, Mum? I can do sausage, peas and mash if you want. You sit here for a minute”

He ran off upstairs, and I heard taps running, and then he was back in the kitchen.

“I’ve started a hot bath, Mum, and I’ve got one of your bomb things for it, and a big soft towel, and your dressing gown and slippers and stuff. You can have a long rest and I will have tea ready”

“OK, love, but you don’t start it till I am out of the bath, right?”

I got the little-boy version of a Paddington stare. “Mum, I do cookery at school”

“Yes, but with a teacher to supervise. Look, I get my soak, and then we do this together….you do this, and I watch and enjoy being pampered by my son, OK? Deal?”

“Deal, Mum”

So, I lay in the bath in a pink confection of smells and fizz, with that mug of tea that Andy had mentioned, till my thoughts were back on line and less self-destructive. Jim had laid out a long and soft cotton nighty as well as my big fluffy dressing gown, and after I was dry I wrapped myself in their comfort and went back down to the kitchen where Jim was already peeling potatoes. We set them on to boil, and as I slid the sausages into the oven I had a thought.

“Jim, fancy some toads?”

“Ooh, yeah!”

So, I removed the sausages again, and under my instructions he mixed up a bowl of batter as a roasting tin warmed up. I took the tin out of the oven, the fat smoking from the heat, and arranged the links. He poured the batter over, and I set the tin back in the heat.

“Want cheddar mash?”

“Yes please!”

So, when the toad was nearly ready, and the potatoes cooked, he worked with the masher as I dropped in a few chunks of butter and some crumbled cheese. I had to help push the masher down at first until the potatoes were broken up, and then we checked on the oven. Soon, we were sat down at the table with two plates steaming with mashed potatoes, peas, gravy and toad-in-the-hole, Pie salivating next to Jim’s chair.

That old proverb was right. Gwell hanner na dim, ond roedd e’n well na hanner gennyf.

Better half than none, but I had better than half. Much better.

CHAPTER 82
Tony was back late, sliding into bed with me just before midnight after some reheated toads and instant gravy. I was quiet for a while, but couldn’t help hugging him fiercely as he lay beside me.

“What’s up, love? The kitchen looked like a bomb hit it, so I assume that Jim did some cooking. You wouldn’t normally leave it like that…are you all right?”

“Oh, love, I’m just feeling a bit sort of incomplete”

“Talk to me, love”

“It’s all a sham, that’s what I was thinking”

“What is? You and us? You and Jim?”

“No, love, just me. Don’t worry, we have a little boy with a very gentle touch, and he did the necessary. I was just feeling a little crushed by Bev and Andy…and realising that Jim isn’t really mine”

“He is, though, Sar, as real as it gets”

“Yes……I know that now, he did a very good job of showing me.”

I went through Jim’s actions as Tony held my head on his shoulder, stroking my hair gently. I could almost feel the grin on his face, I didn’t have to see it.

“That’s my boy…”

He kissed me on the top of the head and rolled slightly so he could cup one of my breasts.

“You are very, very real to me, my love, just as you are to all our friends and family. Just think of the differences you have brought to people’s lives, starting with me and our son there”

I played with the hairs on his chest, a little distractedly. “I know, love, I know, but just sometimes, well, I feel a bit of a fraud.”

“Sometimes, so do I. I keep thinking that I’ll cock-up properly at work one day, and everyone will see how useless I really am. It’s just human nature never to be satisfied, and those people who think they are perfect are just idiots. We get by on luck, goodwill and honest effort, and you do so much better than anyone I have ever met”

“Well, I still feel a bit like a fraud, and if it wasn’t for Jim….”

“Well, I feel a right tit at the moment.”

“Left, actually…mmmmmmmmmm”

So I let my hand stray down a little, and then it was all very nice, and that time I cried as I dug my heels in and clutched my other lifesaver.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next morning, Jim was up before either of us, and I woke to find him putting a cuppa beside the bed, as with some embarrassment I realised exactly how smelly we had made it. After I had finished my tea, I made sure I took a decent shower before showing my face in the kitchen. Jim was just finishing his cereal before running off to school.

I don’t think I ever will lose my pain at being unable to have a child properly of my own, but the boys showed me what I had suspected that day so many centuries ago, that there were ways of being a mum that didn’t involve being a mother, and I knew that day, utterly and in my heart, that Jim was my child.

Back to work. Do what I can, concentrate on being a better Mam than I had been, leave others alone, and just be myself for a while. Of course, as soon as Alice mentioned ‘popping across to Fishguard’ my resolution wavered.

“Who are you going with, Alice? Suzy?”

“No, on my own, Arwel has a do on at the rugby club, a dinner with frocks, so I am invited as the arm candy”

“Are you sure you are up to this?”

“I will have both the boys around, as well as your parents, so how can I not be?”

Sarah, back off, leave her to her own life.

“OK, but you know I worry about you"

“Yes, and all five of us have your number, and Elaine will be nearby and I am packing clean knickers and I won’t take any sweeties from any strange men”

She made it a joke, but I could feel the determination behind her words. She wanted to take her own steps, in her silly shoes, and whether she flew or fell she wanted to be the one doing it. I started to giggle, I couldn’t help it.

“What’s so funny? My hair not straight or something?”

“No, Alice, it’s nothing like that”

I sat her down with a cup of instant coffee-flavoured -drink, and talked her through the previous day’s crisis, and of course we both got a little weepy, and settled into those comforting hugs that only women seem to do, and as we settled into our mutual comfort she said all the right things, and we smiled together, and then of course she asked the question again.

“This is going to sound silly, Alice…”

“So try me”

“I just realised I have two kids, and the other one is a stroppy, randy teenager”

Fortunately, Suzy had a spare uniform top to replace the one she sprayed all the coffee down.

So, a fortnight later I saw Alice off on the train to Abertawe, for Hywel to collect at the station, and for three days I sat almost shitting myself with worry. There were a couple of calls only, including the obligatory “Can’t talk now, Mum, just off into the dinner” one, and yes, she did call me Mum. In that short call she sounded ecstatic, and it was truly like one of those awful American prom things that are taking over UK schools, all excitement at being so dressed up and with her Great Dark Man. I slept so badly that night that at 2 in the morning I crawled out of our bed and into a spare one to try and read for a while without disturbing my hibernating bear, the sheets all cold and lonely. No late night ‘home, safe’ call left me sweating.

She was back on the Monday evening, and I had a call from Enid as she picked her up at Priory station.

“Baggage collected, fixed grin in place” and ten minutes later they were at the door for a cuppa. I am afraid I had a little dig at her for not giving me chapter and verse that she was safe and secure, and she snapped back about being a grown woman.

“That’s just it, Alice, you’re not. No, don’t look like that, all meant was that you haven’t had as much experience out in the world as me, or Enid, and I worry about you so much. Just remember what happened to me”

“How could we forget?” she said, rather acidly. “Just remember yourself…not every man in the world is a Joe, and there is one huge difference here. Arwel knows EXACTLY what I am, before we get anywhere near the shagging stage.”

My face must have betrayed me. She softened, just a bit. “No, we haven’t. I don’t have the necessary, perhaps I never will, and it’s not the main thing on his mind. We have other connections, better ones in my opinion. Shared tastes, shared experiences even if we had them separately, if you take my point. We sort of grew up together but separately, and that counts an awful lot.

“What Arwel wanted for this weekend was a chance to see me, to try and treat me, as a woman, in a way as his woman, and that is why I needed to do it on my own without you and Suzy perpetually glaring at anyone who got too close. We just needed some privacy from, well, from your side of our sort-of-family”

Enid snorted at that. “No ‘sort-of’ about it, you stupid woman, you are family, full stop.”

Alice gave her a squeeze. “Yes, I know, and I also know that without you two I would not be here, but it is time I took some risks of my own. I know what throws Arwel off kilter, and, to be blunt, it is my cock. I plan to get rid; my worry is a simple one, and that is that the docs may refuse on grounds of poor health, but I have to try.

“Look…it was a very good evening, and the days were fun as well, and Arwel did his ‘tourist guide’ thing, but after the dance….we had a snog, and he got all unnecessary, and then he pulled back stammering. He still hugs me, but I think the beer got the better of him, and he is still so confused, but I am not. Look, we can’t write off my history, but at least we can get rid of his double vision”

I hadn’t expected quite such a rapid turn round in her attitude. “Alice, with recent events, you know, you could die…”

“I was prepared for that years ago, love. Now I have a chance to live rather than just be alive, I am more than happy to roll the dice. I have an appointment with my quack next week”

CHAPTER 83
Alice’s appointment duly came, and despite my misgivings I made time to go along with her. If I was being told off for interfering, I could still offer moral support by my presence.

It was a heavy meeting, with reams of reports and some quite heavy conversation. Alice’s side of things was simple: she had had enough of living a half-life with unwanted anatomical parts obstructing her future. She had demonstrated more than sufficiently through her real life test not only how she identified herself, but how she was perceived by others. Her endocrinologist’s reports were fine, her liver and other functions more than adequate, and her basic fitness, especially after her weight loss, definitely up to the mark.

Dr Oliver, the doctor charged with her review, hit back with counter-arguments about her age and history.

“You have had recent surgery to your cranium, Alice, and I do believe you arrested while in hospital. That is not a good thing to have on your record when asking for such a serious operation. I am going to be frank, I have severe doubts about your fitness for this.

“Look, you have lived most of your life with this…physical condition, and coped, why such a sudden urge to go under the knife?”

“Because my friend can’t cope, and I no longer want just to cope, I want to get on and live properly for a few years.”

“Ah. This friend, would it happen to be a man?”

Alice smiled, happily. “Oh, very much a man, doctor.”

“And can I assume from your attitude that he is neither bi nor homosexual?”

“Bingo, Doctor. That is the problem. He can see me as I am, up to a point, but then my anatomy comes into the picture---no, I don’t mean that we get intimate, it’s that he knows it is there and he is repelled by it. As am I.”

“So, you are seeking the ability to indulge in sexual intercourse”

Alice sighed in obvious exasperation. “No, doctor, I am simply seeking the ability to indulge in being held by the man I love without him shying away from me. That may not sound like the greatest thing in the world, but it is rather important to me, and I rather believe to Arwel”

“Arwel? The…er…”

“Yes, the ‘er’ and this young lady’s uncle. Now, I have made my desires plain, you have Astrid’s report on my mental state, and I can’t see what more you would need. It’s quite a simple thing, really; do I get the service from the NHS that I have paid my taxes for, or do I cash in my savings and bugger off to Thailand? One way or the other, it’s coming off for good”

Dr Oliver looked a little flustered. Alice was in full force-of-nature mode, and he looked as if he had been hit by a small tornado. I myself was slowly realising how firmly she had made up her mind. Thailand…if it wasn’t an empty threat, it would leave me with huge problems. There was no way I could leave her alone and hurting in a Thai hospital, or, worse, dead, but no way I could abandon my family. If she was going to take the risks anyway….

“Doctor…may I say a word? I know this awkward old trout has set her heart on things, and I simply can’t accompany her all the way out there. If she dies out there, I don’t know what I will do, well, I don’t know what I’ll do if she dies anyway, but at least if it is here she will be with family and friends”

Alice was staring at me “Die…?”

“Yes, you silly old woman, die. That’s what this man is trying to get across to you!”

“That’s my choice, Sar, my risk. It’s got to the stage now where I can see my freedom through the bars, and I just want to open the cage. That’s all, Sar. If I die, I die, but at least I tried. I have to try, love, otherwise I will die, in the end, having lost, and to be honest, I’m not going to die THAT much later, am I?”

It wasn’t an argument I could ever win, and to a large extent I blamed myself and Janet. What would she have done without having the two of us to rub her nose in things? That was the point I mentally surrendered. She would live, or she would die, but either way she was going under the knife.

The doc waved us goodbye with a promise to send her his verdict after he had had time to go through all the reports and consult with the surgical team, and Alice insisted we stop at a pub on the way home. The weather was still warm, and as we sat in the garden with our drinks, and I looked at Alice’s hint of cleavage, I realised that I had hardly ever seen her in anything other than skirts since our return from Australia. She seemed to insist on being as feminine as possible. Not Anne’s style of paint and scent, but shoes, dresses, nothing androgynous, and I wondered if it was because she didn’t dare risk anything that didn’t shout ‘woman inside’ in a bellow, or if it was because she was simply enjoying the ability to dress as she had always wanted.

She never wore anything tarty, no pelmet skirts or nipple-flashing tops (and she did indeed have nipples now), and while she loved heels they were never 5” fetish items, just feminine and pretty. It was her movements, though, that shouted her identity, just as they had on that first day at our house, and as I watched her with her glass of white wine I suddenly stepped out from behind my eyes and saw her as Arwel must do, not as someone who had known Alan for so long.

The dumpiness, the little round man in a dress, had gone. The weight loss had done great things to her, and she now had cheek bones instead of jowls. Redistribution of the fat that remained had softened her lines while the loss of her belly had made them finer. Even her legs looked better, and unless she clenched a calf the male musculature wasn’t that evident.

The main thing, though, was her smile. She was smiling now, and it reached beyond her eyes to her whole posture, which almost levitated when she was in such a good mood. I could see why Arwel was so able to put his preconceptions to one side with her, how she was so easily taken as Aunty Alice. Too many years with the man had prejudiced my eyes.

Sod it. Whatever course of action she decided, it was my turn to shut up and support her properly. Pray god that she wasn’t going to piss off and leave us, but anything else would be a win. Just…

“What has Arwel said about this, Alice?”

“He doesn’t know yet.”

“Surely, if you are doing this for him, he should have a say”

“I am doing it for myself, love, and hopefully that will end becoming doing it for us. Once I know if there is a possibility of it happening, then I will present him with a firm proposal”

“Proposal?”

“No, silly girl, not that sort. I’m a traditional woman, that’s his job”

“Please tell me you haven’t been discussing marriage with him! That would really freak him out!”

“And would that be a bad thing, a marriage?”

“Oh, for god’s sake, you know what I mean”

“What we have discussed is simple. We get on, neither of us is getting any younger, and some day soon I will be retiring fully from work. We have discussed sharing a house. Before you ask, we have NOT discussed sharing a bed. That is something I do not see happening in the foreseeable future, not with him”

“You want it though, don’t you?”

Alice turned wistful. “And is it not something you couldn’t live without, now? Without Tony?”

She was right. I had slept alone all my life, up until I met him that second time, and I never, ever wanted to do it again. His night shifts were bad enough, but I knew where he was, and, more importantly, knew he would ne back in our bed. The sex was, of course, wonderful, but what mattered was always his presence beside or around me, rather than in me. I made that decision.

“Whatever, Alice, I will be with you. One way or another we’ll see you happy. Please, though, let me talk with Arwel and you together. If he can accommodate you in any way that doesn’t risk your life, surely that’s worth a try? When are you seeing him next?”

I got a flash of her impish grin, as she looked over my shoulder.

“In about three seconds, I would say”

CHAPTER 84
I span on the bench, and the old monster was there behind me, just coming through the gate, Hywel at his shoulder.

Once again, I was reminded how closely father and son worked, how deep their relationship. A rush of odd thoughts went through my head, as happens when bombshells drop. If I had been Sam, would I have had a similar link with my father? More sadly, if I had not run away, would I have had a chance at a similar deep connection to my mother? I would never know.

“Sh’mae, boys”

“Shw mae, Sar. Wyt ti wedi bod yn siarad i’r hen wraig’ma, aye?”

“Yn wir, Arwel, yn wir. A beth wyt ti’n meddwl? Ffrind’ma mewn bedd?”

He changed to English, for Alice’s benefit, and that fucked my chances to have a real go at him.

“No, Sar, I do not want to see this woman in her grave, but if you keep pushing you might just tip her into it. Look, get this straight, aye? You may be the first she spoke to, but you are not the only one”

“Yes, but what has she told you she wants?”

Alice stepped in sharply. “Sarah, enough. My life, my story, my revelations. Not yours!”

Her voice softened. ”Look, I know you mean well, but sometimes you have to let go, let people make their own choices without someone holding their hand. So, just for now, please, let go. I have to do this by myself”

I gave Arwel a nasty look, which was wrong of me, but she had me wound so tightly I wanted to scream. “OK, Alice, talk your talk and I’ll stay quiet.”

She paused to gather her thoughts, as Hywel went off to get the drinks.

“Look, Arwel, I was telling Sar about the possibility of us moving in together, but there is more to it now”

She worked through our meeting with Dr Oliver, in detail, and Arwel just sat and listened impassively, though I did spot a slight twitch when she mentioned the risks.

“So…let me get this right, aye? You either get them to do it here, with the risks, or you bugger off to ladyboy land and get it done there?”

“Essentially, yes, that’s right”

“And you have the savings for that then?”

“No, not really, but Doc Oliver didn’t need to know that”

Arwel took a sip of the pint Hywel had brought for him, and thought for a few seconds. “Do you need money?”

I stared at him. “You would put up money for her to die in some foreign hospital?”

“I’d put up money to make her happy, lass”

“At the risk of her dying?”

He put his pint down, and reached out to take her hand. “At the risk of her being so fucked up over this that she does something even more stupid”

He took my hand as well. “Sar, I have tried to get something across to you, and I know this old trout has done the same. Life isn’t just about shagging, especially at our age, aye? We clicked that first day we met. It’s the communication thing, girl. A woman doesn’t have to like beer and rugby to talk well with a man. And a man doesn’t have to need to shag a woman to want her company”

Alice was looking happily smug. “See what I mean? Life is richer than most people can see, if they would only widen their ambitions a little. We can happily share a house, because we mesh well together. The fact that he is absolutely a man, and I am most definitely a woman, is another thing entirely. We work well together”

That grin was back. “And the small fact that I happen to love this old bastard deeply does us no harm at all”

I was still twitching. ”So with all that, why bother taking such a risk? Why not just go on as you are, safely?”

Alice set her jaw. “Because it comes between us, that’s why, and don’t try and get out of that by making a bad joke. It is something that stops either of us being natural with each other, as well as being something I have never wanted there. Look, love, I told you that accident cleared my mind. Call it fatalism, call it intimations of mortality, but I know that life doesn’t just carry on, safely. Ten, twenty, forty years time if miracles happen, and I’ll be gone. Less time for this lump, as he hardly has the healthiest of lifestyles. I want to live that last bit without feeling a fraud”

That last phrase bit me. How to explain that I still felt the same without destroying her hopes? Arwel just grunted.

“That’s the down side of moving in, Sar, she’s already trying to do a bloody makeover on me, telling me to cut down on the chips and beer and all. Fair puts me off, it does”

He still had her hand. I looked at Hywel. “What do you think, then? Are these two sane?”

He took a slow breath. “My opinion? Dad’s a lot calmer than he ever was after Mam went. This one grows on you, like a wart. Irritating as all hell, but you can’t just scrape it off”

He paused, to grin at her. “Look, they work together. She’s got the brakes put on him at last, and that sits well by me. Dad likes to think he’s still one of the lads, but he isn’t, not any more”

Arwel snorted. “I can still drink you under the table, boy!”

“Aye, Dad, but how long does it take you to get rid of the hangover? Look, Sar, I will be hooking up with Suzy some day, and we have to decide where we’re going to live. That means one of us really needs to move out of the old place, so it’s him or me.”

“Aye, son, or we both move down this way”

I went back a step. “So are you setting a date then, Hywel?”

“Aye, probably next Summer. We got a few things straightened out that day, remember? I think my arm will just about be healed by then”

Alice leant forward, clutching Arwel’s hand. “You see, Sar, that’s the other aspect. If I don’t have the surgery, I can’t get my status changed. If I can’t do that, we can’t make any partnership official without one of those civil things”

“Aye, and they’re for poofs”

“Oh shut up, Arwel. You see what I mean, Sar? He will only accept something meant for red-blooded men hung like Welsh ponies”

“You’ve been peeking again, aye?”

“Quiet. Sarah, if we can’t get that legality, then when this old sod keels over from a heart attack, or his liver gives out, I have no say in what happens to him. He will only accept ‘normality’ so I have no real choice”

She paused. “I suppose I have had no real choice since I was born. I just put it off for far too long. But then….but then, I probably wouldn’t have met you and your family if things had been different. You are lucky in them, Sarah, luckier than you ever admit to them. It’s time you trusted them”

Oh, she knew how to slap me with the moral blackmail, all right, and I wondered for just one spiteful instant whether this really was a world view changed as a result of that accident, or if she was actually brain-damaged. No, the docs would have mentioned something, and she wasn’t actually drooling for any reason other than the man she was clinging on to. I took the plunge.

“OK, I understand it really isn’t any of my business any more, it’s between you two, so I will support your decision as best I can, whichever one it is. Just, please, both of you, get all the facts before you go in headfirst”

Alice just smiled. “Already have, Sarah dear, already have. I’ve been getting those ‘well woman’…well, ‘well freak of nature godless pervert abomination’…checks for the last three weeks, just to get a ground level of where my fitness for surgery lies. The Doc didn’t realise why I was doing it, he just assumed I wanted to keep track after the nastiness.”

Well, Doc Oliver had certainly been told now. So had I.

CHAPTER 85
That was a hard period for me, a bit like riding in an out of control car. I had no idea how to deal with her when she got so determined apart from stepping back, and that was the bad bit. I didn’t want her dead.

Arwel moved in with the two ladies just before Christmas, leaving his son the house, and I was forced to realise, as if hadn’t already, how serious they were. It was odd, watching my great beast of an uncle, behaving like this round her, and I had to keep kicking myself to stay out of it. My earlier fears that he would lash out when confused seemed to be groundless, and that was a sharp lesson to me. If anything, I should have realised that my family were closer to me than is meant just by affection: closer in temperament, closer in, as it turned out, adaptability and flexibility. My parents had swung like ships with the tide in accepting both Elaine and myself, and the way they acted around both Tony and Siá¢n was banal in its normality. If my Dad could do that, I should have realised his brother came from the same nurturing.

I suppose the only one that was a little off was Uncle Gethin, but Aunty Gwen seemed to have his balls clutched firmly in her hands, with the same steel in her as my mother had. We invited the whole lot of them over for the holiday, together with Arris and her brood, and by the end of it even Gethin was starting to act normally around the couple, for that was what they were rapidly becoming.

Arwel seemed to have made a positive decision that if he was going down that road, he would do it properly, and I noticed the odd moments of unconscious affection becoming more frequent, and more evident. Alice’s lost weight had done wonders for her self-confidence, and she was just as ready to shut him up or otherwise modify his behaviour as she had been in the pub. Her “Be quiet, Arwel” was never harsh, never shrewish, but indulgent, teasing, as was his constant references to the ‘old woman’ or ‘old trout’. It was their communication that struck me; they really did approach a lot of things with the same attitude.

“I can’t be doing with those people who fret, Sar” he said to me once. “If you break something, clean up the mess and sort it out first, don’t sit their all weepy and stupid, aye?”

That was his way. If something went wrong, sort it first, then worry about the loss later. I wasn’t sure if he saw Alice as something wrong that needed fixing, or his own response to her, but I am sure it went something like ‘I’ve fallen for a bloke in a dress’ better do it right, aye’ but then, as I have said, he only ever knew Alice, never Alan.

So, that was Christmas, another round of excess and love, and the realisation on my part that the years were speeding up and getting away from me. Jim was spurting up, and would need a new bike soon, though we were doing what we could with a long seat post for now. Bev was truly gravid, due in February, and Pat and Janet were planning their own event and….I was getting lost.

Underneath it all, though, burning through the mundane, was the simple fact of happiness and contentment. I was, despite my doubts and gwan galon about being a fraud, doing exactly what I had always dreamt of, with a family I loved around me. Some people dream of lottery wins, of touring the world by way of the best hotels, of bedding film stars, all sorts of exotic silliness. I had my lottery win, in the end, and a lot of it was my family, both parts.

That was my perpetual Christmas present, having them round me. Despite my Mam’s doubts, I insisted we all troop off down to Pat’s ‘gaff’ for the carol service, and once Mam got singing, like a true Cymres she forgot her surroundings and melted into the songs. Pat had managed to get a few ringers into the hymn list, and I was reminded of the scene from ‘Zulu’ where a Welsh private soldier remarks that while the Zulu warriors can sing, they’re a bit heavy in the bass section. Dad, Hywel, Gethin and Arwel did great things with and to ‘Guide Me, O Thou Great Jehovah’ with its wonderful tune of Cwm Rhondda, and the church fairly shook at their harmonising of the chorus. Arwel spoilt it slightly by muttering “Bloody foreign words, what’s wrong with ‘Arglwydd, arwain..’ or ‘Wele’n sefyll’?”

I whispered back “We’re the foreigners here, you old bugger”

He grinned back. “Not originally, we were here before all these Germans”

“A lot of them are Irish!”

“Even worse! They never could sing, and the krauts need beer to get them going”

“Says the man who has paid for half the brewery…”

And so it went, that Christmas. No big presents, beyond the presence of my whole family, no dramas, no sudden revelations. Pie didn’t alert us to Jim falling down the old mine shaft, nobody got that ole time religion, war wasn’t declared and this time nobody hooked up with a new partner. We just ate, and watched TV, and played silly board games, and washed dishes, and tramped the sands and clifftops, and loved each other.

Arwel, Alice and Enid ran the New Year’s Eve shindig. I missed my hubby, as he had drawn the short straw of a night shift, but his cold knees would wake me the next morning. I drank far too much, though, for the first time in ages, and as Jim led his mother to her bed in the spare room, I realised that there shouldn’t be a spare room in a three-bedroom house. Arwel had moved even further than I had anticipated.

I woke at eight, my boy still asleep next to me, and after a toilet visit I made my way down to the kitchen and the kettle. Enid was already there, and indicating the upstairs with a flick of my eyes I asked “How long?”

“Just a few days. It was a cold night, and they were already settled on each other on the sofa, and Alice just asked f she should put a hot water bottle on his side of the bed to warm it up, and he sort of grunted like he does. Don’t think there’s any hanky panky, they just seem to need the company”

Why could I never see the bloody obvious in front of me? I had had enough experience of it that I should be able to spot when people were lonely, for that is what half of love and romance is really about: not being alone in the dark. For whatever reasons, which certainly didn’t seem to include lust on Arwel’s part (though I rather suspect Alice felt differently), two people had found a way to keep warm.

That was it, that was how life worked. People dreamt of the great romance, the Great Dark Man, and then, if they were lucky, they found the one person that, with some compromise, some give and take, they could shelter and be sheltered by, keeping the dark at bay. Dreams were fun, of course, but life, real life, was so much better.

Alice’s date for surgery arrived just after the holiday. For good or bad, she was going all the way. Arwel seemed sanguine. One day in my house, over a cuppa, he explained.

“If she goes, she goes, but she goes as she wants to be”

“And you’d be OK with that?”

He looked at me sharply. “Course I fucking wouldn’t, but it’s her call, her body, her life, aye?”

He sighed. “She’s done a will, and signed me power of attorney just in case, so all we have to do is wait and see. You’re going to need a locum again, aren’t you? Same weeks as Bev is due, and I can’t see Andy leaving his missus alone for their first kid”

Another sigh. “Worried, I am. The old trout is still a bit sideways from that twat’s car, and I just worry….well, you know, love”

I slipped round the table and hugged him. “She feels she has to do it. Same as me”

“You never, ever were a fucking boy, Sam. There never was a Sam, was there? That’s what makes it so easy to see her as she should have been, as she is. I look at you and remember the child, Twm being so proud to have a son, and he takes you as you are and loves you all the more. I can do that, I can match my brother, you know, but you never trusted me, not till now. I’ve got my son, but we all have you, and without that letting go we wouldn’t have had you at all, would we?”

I just sat, quiet. After that foreign trucker had empted my life, after Joe….yes, those thoughts had been there, but Elaine, Dad, Arris, all had been there for me. I thought of poor, lost Alice, in the rain on top of a Dover cliff, trying to decide which way she should walk. Loneliness…..

I hugged Arwel one more time. “Look, this family saved my sanity, perhaps even my life.. Alice is family. Whatever you want, whatever you need, I’m here”

He didn’t say a word, just hugged me tight. And wept.

CHAPTER 86
February came, with its greyness and endless grim drizzle, and Bev was waddling. Alice, on the other hand, was almost dancing.

She had her bag packed a week or more before the day she was due to go in, and I saw an odd parallel in Bev’s ever-ready maternity bag. Both were going to hospital for a new life.

Bev’s waters broke the night before Alice was due to take up her own bed, and I spent a few hours as part of a roster of friends staying with Andy and trying to keep him calm. He was up and down, constantly.

“Bloody hell, I’m a chemist, you’d think I could give myself something to keep the lid on things!”

Her contractions got closer together, and finally at 8 in the morning Andy was led away to get wrapped up in gown, cap and mask as they took his wife to the delivery room. Me, jealous? Of course I fucking was. Everything I had ever wanted was happening behind that closed door, and I would never get there, never.

Think family, girl, I told myself, think Tony, think Jim. Blessings too many to count, but count them now. You’re a middle-aged mother and housewife with saggy tits; what more do you want?

I also gave myself a good, hard mental slap. It was Bev and Andy’s day, Alice’s as well. The world was bigger than me, and they had their own place in it, and today that outranked mine. The old trout stopped by that morning, as I dozed n a chair and Bev, no doubt, tried to master the panting she had been taught in the antenatal class. Alice shook me gently awake.

“A new life for all of us today, love. I just wanted to say thanks before I went in”

I hugged her. “No thanks needed, just as I told your man there. You’re family, and we look after our own”

“Yes, he looked after me all right this morning. One of us had black tea, the other had a full English breakfast, eaten in front of the faster”

Arwel chuckled. ”Got to keep my strength up!”

“Sod. Look, Sar, we have to go. I’ll see you later. That’s a promise.”

She hugged me, and towed Arwel off to the hospital reception to book in. I must have fallen asleep again, for the next thing I knew Suzy was shaking me, a huge smile on her face.

“She’s done it, Sar! Andy’s over the moon! Both doing very well”

“Come on, you teasing cow, tell me!”

She grinned. “Baby girl. Seven pounds six ounces”

I squealed, and we hugged, then made our way to the ward. Looking in through the glass, we could see the three of them, Andy obviously just past tears and Bev looking ecstatic as she waved to us, little Rebecca on her breast. She also looked like shit, with great dark circles under her eyes and her dark curls plastered to her head with sweat. Her normally pale skin looked chalky, apart from two livid blotches on her cheeks. Perhaps I wasn’t as jealous as I thought. I knew my sisters would be, though, and I had to come to a decision about THAT at some point. Not today, though, not today.

Andy joined us, looking tearful still, as well as a little green. “Seven pounds six ounces. Rebecca Alice Sarah. Oh, sorry, meant to warn you, but we agreed that there were two people we owed so much to, and, well, it avoids her being called RAW.”

I slapped him, gently. “You can never be serious, can you? How was it?”

“Magical, really moving, but, er, just a bit messy and bloody, and I nearly lost my breakfast. Well, I haven’t had any yet, so…”

“What are you going to do now?”

“Well, go home for a bit. I need to shower, and change, and breakfast would be good. Bev’s really, really tired, so she’ll be asleep for a while once they’ve finished cleaning everything up, and I’ll be more up to things after a nap. You staying for a bit, Suze?”

She kissed him on the cheek. “Congratulations, daddy. Yes, I’ll keep an eye on the young trout there; I think Sarah needs to be elsewhere. Alice should be in theatre by now”

Shit, I’d missed seeing her off. I gave Andy another hug and then made my way round to the waiting area, where my uncle was sitting staring at a paper.

“Hiya, girl. You know, I keep looking at this paper here, and I just can’t read it. Can’t keep my mind on the words, see. How long does this take, Sar?”

“Funnily enough, Arwel, I wasn’t looking at the clock when they did it. Why don’t we head on home for a bit, have a cuppa?”

“Go down the pub be better”

“It’s not even noon. Tell you what, go into town and have a bite, how’s that sound? Then we’re close enough that we can get back if we need to.”

We found our way to the centre and took a table in a café near the library. I texted Andy to let him know where we were, just in case he wanted to join us, and rang Pat. Half an hour later the priest and his fiancée were there. Arwel tried to make a joke of it.

“Last rites, then, is it, Pat?”

“I fucking well pray not, Arwel. She’s got more balls than most men, she’ll be absolutely fine.”

Janet laughed, quietly. “Given present company, and the subject of our conversation, we will really have to find a different metaphor.”

That broke the mood slightly, and Arwel retorted “Spunk is right out, then!”

Janet looked pensive. “I dunno….if she’s really lucky….”

Bad jokes, lousy taste, the only way to cope with the dark fears that we all seemed to have just beneath the surface. We were all playing a part that lunchtime, all putting on a brave face to help the others keep theirs.

Arwel’s mobile beeped as a text came in.

“That was the surgeon, he promised to let me know when it was done. He says ‘all done, woman and fanny fine’, the cheeky fucker”

That was when he broke down, finally, in a quiet corner of a Canterbury café, all the stress released in a flood of tears. Somehow we managed to get all three of us wrapped round him, and Janet dug out a pack of tissues from her handbag when the shakes gradually eased. When his breathing calmed down, Pat spoke.

“Before you say anything at all, listen. You will not fucking apologise, you will not worry about face, or what you look like to these strangers around you. You will accept that you are human, and you will give thanks to your God for what he has done for you this day, and on all the days that have led to it.

“Humans care, Arwel, humans love. Men love, and it is no shame to show that love, no weakness. Now, she is waiting for you n a hospital bed. The loving thing would be to be there when she wakes up?”

He grinned. “Otherwise, you’ll never hear the fucking end of it!”

Back at the hospital, I quickly let Suzy know how things were, as she watched over a gently-snoring Bev, and then made my way to the recovery room where Alice was lying asleep with a silly number of tubes and wires coming out of her. Was that what I had looked like? It must have scared Tony half to death, and it seemed to be having a similar effect on my uncle.

“That’s all normal, love. They need to drain lots of stuff, then there’s packing, and a catheter for the bladder, and the rest is just a drip to keep her fluids up and monitors so they know she’s fine.”

“What about, you know, that tube thing?”

“Just keeps her airway open while she’s unconscious. It’ll come out as she wakes.”

I didn’t tell him what I really thought, of course. Enough was enough.

I suddenly realised that the old fool was juggling a little square box in his hands. Sneaky, sneaky, and so romantic an old monster. He caught my gaze, and grinned, a little sheepishly.

“Well, we’ve talked about it, and it makes sense…”

Pat saw as well, and put a finger to Janet’s lips as he raised an eyebrow.

“Go on, Arwel” he purred, “tell us the real reason”

He ducked his head for an instant, then looked hard at me, with a beaming smile.

“OK, guilty as charged, I actually love the old slapper, aye?”

He took her hand and slid the ring onto the correct finger for her to find when she woke.

“Well, saves all that silly one-knee stuff, don’t it? And she can always say no!

She didn’t.