"Tea will be fine," said Mary, smiling again before touching my arm lightly with her hand, "bye for now, nice meeting you, have a good week." "Bye Mary, you too," I replied. A Mother's Love - Prequel - Part 1 by Alys

---

Part 1
 
"Yes love, what'll it be?" asked the friendly middle aged catering assistant behind the counter in the Students Union cafe

"Cup of tea please, no milk or sugar," I responded with a smile.

"No milk? Are you sure love?"

"Yes, I'm intolerant to it," I explained.

"Oh, OK , you want some UHT* instead then love?," said the plump, middle aged woman, as she carefully filled one of the cheap china mugs in front of her.

"No thanks, it's made of milk and I can't drink it," I replied politely to the confused assistant.

"Oh yes, silly me, what about some extra sugar?," she offered.

I smiled and quietly responded, "No, thanks, black tea's fine."

"OK love, that's seventy pence then."

I handed over the correct change, took my drink and wandered over to one of the last stools free, next to the high counter around the walls of the cafe. As usual during the mid-morning break in lectures the place was packed and the noise levels were high.

I sat down, took a little sip of my still almost scalding beverage and looked out through the windows at the pedestrians walking past on Holloway Road. The normal mixture of students in the almost universal uniform of t-shirt and jeans, despite the slight chill in the fine early October weather, were making their way between the various buildings of the campus.

Sometimes there was a small group laughing and joking, sometimes a more studious looking individual, sometimes a pair of young people in earnest conversation, all of them walking with purpose.

By contrast the locals, who were intermingled between the young people studying at North London University, were older and more sensibly dressed. I watched a man in his late forties or early fifties as he slowly plodded along the pavement, shoulders hunched a little forward, lost in his contemplation and seemingly oblivious to the youth and vitality around him.

As I followed his progress I wondered about the friends and lovers he might have had in his younger days and whether I was seeing a vision of myself in twenty or thirty years.

"Anyone sitting here?" asked a female voice, breaking my reverie.

I turned round and smiled at the very attractive fellow student who had spoken to me," No, you're welcome."

"Thanks," she said as she squeezed in next to me, " This must be last seat left, is it always this busy?"

"Yep, always like this, aren't you based in Holloway Road?" I asked, referring to the main building in the Islington campus of the dispersed, inner city university.

"I only come here on Tuesdays, I'm at Kentish Town, I'm doing European studies and French Language. I only come over for the language lab." she replied while looking quizzically at me.

"Business admin, French and German," I replied to her unspoken question, "when are you in the lab?"

"After break," she replied, "my name's Mary by the way. Hey is that black tea you're drinking?"

"I'm Steve, yes it is black tea, a bit too brewed too. I can't drink milk, you too?" I asked looking at the dark beverage in her cup.

"Yes, it's a bit disgusting, I think I'll try black coffee next time, I just thought I'd try it for once," Mary replied, "I can't drink milk either, it makes me quite ill. You the same?"

"Yes," I replied before explaining how I had been very ill as a baby until the doctors had diagnosed cow's milk intolerance. We chatted for a while

Before I could reply the departure of the rest of the people sitting near me prompted me to look at my watch.

"Shit, break was over five minutes ago, we'd better hurry over to the lab." I said as I got up.

"You've got a session now too?" Mary asked as she stood up, "That's great we can walk over together, I've got no idea where the lab is."

An hour an a half later we walked out of the lab after a stimulating session of French conversation and language exercises.

"That was fun," Mary said, " I'm so glad I spent most of July and August working in Eurocamp."

"I think I've got a headache," I responded.

"Really, why?" my companion asked.

"I haven't spoken French since A'levels, it was a bit hard going after not speaking for three months," I replied as we made our way down the narrow stairs in the language studies annexe.

"Don't you like travelling? I had to get away after the exams I had great fun working in Brittany," said Mary.

"I was home over the summer," I replied, briefly.

I could see a question forming in her face and so thinking to divert any potential questions about my personal circumstances I gestured towards the greasy spoon, otherwise known as the 'Uni Cafe', outside in the street.

"You fancy some lunch, Mary, this place does some amazing food."

Mary stopped and seemed about to follow me before she looked at her watch and answered, "Sorry, Steve, I really should get the tube back to Kentish Town, my next lecture starts in about an hour and a half."

"Oh OK," I responded, feeling a little rebuffed which was not an unfamiliar feeling for me, "See you next week then?"

"Sure," she replied, smiling, "meet you in the Tower Block? The same time?"

"Great, yes let's do that, I'll get the teas or would you prefer coffee, or maybe something else....." I asked, a bit overexcited at the prospect of seeing Mary again.

"Tea will be fine," said Mary, smiling again before touching my arm lightly with her hand, "bye for now, nice meeting you, have a good week."

"Bye Mary, you too," I replied.

She turned and walked towards the underground station. I stood and watched her walk quickly towards the entrance of Holloway Road underground station. Just before she disappeared she turned and gave me a quick, friendly wave. I raised my hand to respond but she was gone in that instant.

The week before I saw Mary again was one full of sweet thoughts and of anticipation. For the first few days after meeting her I replayed our encounter over and over inside my head. On more than one occasion I found my mind wandering away from whatever subject matter I was supposed to be studying in lectures and back towards the short time I had spent in her company.

As the week neared its end I began to feel anxious about whether or not Mary would come to the language session. By the day of the lesson I found it difficult to concentrate in my earlier lectures and in the end I skipped the one before break, a rather dry one about Business Ethics, in order to make sure I got a table before the rush at break time.

"Hi Steve," said Janet the plump catering assistant behind the counter," the usual is it?"

"Yes, please, Janet but could you make it two cups," I replied, smiling back at the friendly woman who had quickly got to remember my unusual daily request.

"Two cups? You must be thirsty love," Janet said as she poured out the hot brown liquid.

"For a friend," I explained as I handed over the correct change.

Janet gave me a knowing smile before she turned to the next customer in the queue.

I carried the two cups over to the stools in the window where I had been sitting when I had met Mary the previous week. I put the saucer on top of Mary's cup to try and keep it as warm as possible until she arrived.

The view out of the cafe windows was very similar to the previous week, although the hint of the forecast afternoon showers in the strengthening breeze meant most of the students were walking much quicker between buildings while the locals were favouring more rain resistant clothing.

After a short while sipping my tea and gazing out of the window, and thinking about Mary again, I noticed that the usual lecture time, continual trickle of customers for the cafe had rapidly swelled into a chatty, enthusiastic throng of young people which quickly filled the small cafe.

I ignored the hub-bub around me and turned my gaze to the people outside coming out of the nearby tube station, hoping to see Mary. I watched carefully as commuters of all shapes and sizes, colours and genders emerged from the dark interior of the underground railway. I studied every face carefully for the next ten minutes, each lack of recognition raising my hopes for the next person to appear out of the darkness.

Finally after ten minutes of disappointment I realised from the thinning out of the cafe that it was time for the language lab session. Resigning myself to not meeting Mary again I finished my tea and slowly, despondently left the cafe.

As I walked towards the pedestrian crossing between the two buildings I wondered if Mary had possibly quit the course.

The sound of a car horn came just in time to stop me stepping into the road without looking as I was lost in my own thoughts.

I stood by the side of the road and waited for a safe moment to cross and then made my way to the entrance to Stapleton House and the language lab.

I turned the corner from the pavement to the main entrance and stopped in surprise as I recognised the person standing next to the door with a smile on her face.

"Hi Steve," said Mary, "I saw you crossing the road and decided to wait for you here."

"Hi, I thought you weren't coming," I replied, feeling a bit tongue tied.

"Oh, did you wait in the cafe?"

"Yes and I got you a tea too."

"Oh, Steve, I'm so sorry about that, I missed the tube and had to get my friend to give me a lift."

There were no words between us for a few seconds as I stood and gazed at her beautiful face and she smiled back. I noticed she had thicker makeup on one side than on the other. I wondered if I detected a bruise on her right cheek.

"Have you hurt yourself?" I asked, indicating with my eyes the side of her face that seemed to show a little swelling.

"Oh that, it's nothing, just walked into a cupboard door in the flat, I'm always doing it, I'm always so clumsy," Mary answered with a rather nervous tone.

"I'm sorry, I hope it didn't hurt too much."

"Don't worry," said Mary, with her radiant smile restored, "come on let's go. we'll be late for our session."

*Long life milk

---

To be continued

"I'm breastfeeding her" I said simply Janis looked like she had seen a ghost, she looked at me in complete bemusement, then apparently decided that she was dealing with someone who might be mentally deranged and reached for her phone to no doubt phone security "Wait," I said," before you phone let me show you" "Show me what?" she demanded. "How I can breast feed" I replied. "But you're a man!"   A Mother's Love - Part 1 by Alys

---

Part 1

 

I eased into the small gap in the traffic slowly moving around the massive roundabout near Archway in North London. The middle aged male driver in the battered white Ford transit glowered at me momentarily and then accepted the inevitable with good grace. I smiled back and acknowledged him letting me into the flow of slow moving traffic.

How I hated Monday mornings, the jolt of going back to work after the winding down of the weekend and having to compete for space on the overcrowded roads. It was a particular shock to my system after my five weeks off work.

The reason for my five weeks off sighed in her sleep and moved her little head a fraction in the back facing baby carrier in the car seat next to me. She looked so beautiful in her pink babygro, wrapped in a woolen shawl as a protection from the Spring morning slight chill.

The traffic crept down the main North East London artery road, so much for driving on a clearway with draconian double red lines, it still wasn't possible for the traffic to move faster. I looked at the car clock, it read eight-sixteen. There were only twenty minutes to get to work, park the car, drop off Bekka at the nursery and get to my desk. I began to regret that I had not studied black magic in an earlier life in order to wish into non existence all the fellow commuters who were in my way.

Suddenly, as if in answer to my non magical plea and without prior warning or obvious reason, the traffic started flowing freely. Within ten minutes I had turned off the main road, just past the ungainly clutter of the local campus of London Metropolitan University, into the private underground car park of Adventure Travel PLC.

"Hi, John," I said to the friendly elderly security guard as I walked though the automatic doors into the marble floored plaza carrying Bekka in her car seat.

"Hello Mr Jones, welcome back, and is this your little one?" he asked as I stopped by the lift.

"Yes, John. Her name's Bekka. How's Mrs Everrit?" I enquired.

"She's bearing up thanks, her arthritis is affected by the damp weather of the last week, though" he replied.

The arrival of the lift ended our brief conversation. I said goodbye to John and pressed the button for floor three.

The doors were almost closed when two young women smartly dressed in the customer service uniform squeezed in.

"Hello Jules," I said to the dark headed tall attractive woman, who worked in the same department as me, "floor one?"

"Yes thanks," she responded, "oh hello Steve, I was looking at your little one, is it a girl?"

"I guess the pink babygro is a give away," I replied with a laugh," her name's Bekka"

"That's a nice name," said Jule's companion, a smaller pretty woman, about the same age with long natural red hair.

"Yes it is. Steve you haven't met Kathleen, she started last week" commented Jules.

"Nice to meet you Kathleen," I said, "how are you finding the work?"

"It's exciting, especially the international aspect of it," she replied.

"Kathleen speaks even more languages than the rest of us, Steve, she can speak Japanese," said Jules a little enviously.

"Wow, that's amazing"

"How is Mary? Is she happier now?" asked Jules.

I hesitated, there was an embarrassing pause for a few seconds. I looked at the floor where Bekka was sleeping oblivious of the conversations.

"She's gone," I said quietly.

The arrival of the lift at the first floor relieved of the burden of providing further explanation. About half a minute later I was walking along the third floor corridor towards an area marked out with primary colours and murals of cartoon characters. I was lucky that the office block housed both the specialist holiday section that I worked in and the much larger package holiday division which meant that the company could provide a workplace nursery.

"Hello, I'm Steven Jones, I had an email from my line manager about bringing my daughter in today" I said to the thirty something attractive nursery nurse sitting behind the small reception desk. She was typing something on her computer. After a couple of seconds she looked up and smiled at me.

"Good morning Mr Jones, I'm Janis Smith and this must be Bekka" she replied.

"Yes"

"Put her nappies* in the locker with her name on and your labeled bottles in the fridge" she said routinely to me.

I hesitated.

"you have some made up some bottles?" she asked a little dismissively.

"No"

"You men are so useless sometimes, lucky we have some spare formula for these situations. do you know what label she is having, they don't like change"

"No, but......" I tried to explain.

"Well, I'm sorry," she interrupted a little angrily, "I can't be expected to look after a baby that I can't feed since you and your wife have been too disorganised to prepare some feed and I don't have enough time to introduce your child to formula milk, I do have 3 other babies to look after"

"She can't have formula, she's intolerant of cow's milk," I explained.

"Then your wife should have expressed some milk for your daughter." said Janis getting more irate.

"It's umm ok, I don't expect you to feed Bekka"

Janis looked like she was about to explode, she stood up and pointed her finger at me

"You are either some dumb idiot or worse still you are deliberately neglecting your child, now get out of my sight and take your baby home and look after her properly" she stated firmly emphasising herself with her wagging finger

I looked down at my lovely daughter, I gently moved a curl off her forehead as she slumbered peacefully in my arms,

"I'm breastfeeding her" I said simply

Janis looked like she had seen a ghost, she looked at me in complete bemusement, then apparently decided that she was dealing with someone who might be mentally deranged and reached for her phone to no doubt phone security

"Wait," I said," before you phone let me show you"

"Show me what?" she demanded.

"How I can breast feed" I replied.

"But you're a man!"

She hesitated and I took advantage of that pause to unbutton my loose shirt with my right hand as I held Bekka in my left. I opened the shirt, lifted my baby to show my nursing bra. Janis's eyes almost exploded, I opened the pocket of the bra and exposed my nipple and my left breast firm with milk, a little of which was running down onto the breast pad.

"Oh my god! You are too"

There was a pause as she recovered from her shock, then she resumed her professional posture.

I covered myself up again

"OK I don't have time for explanations now, the other children will be arriving soon, but I guess you can have the same arrangement as for the other children who are breast fed here. Here's the pager that will tell you when you need to come and feed your baby. Please get here as soon as you can when you get paged"

As usual on a Monday the work was hectic, problems that had arisen that the skeleton staff on the weekend would only monitor, unless there were emergencies, had to be dealt with quickly. Soon , along the with small team of eight fellow workers, I was working through my list of phone calls, emails and faxes and replying to the high priority ones. After some phone calls in French, German and English and sometimes a mixture, to agents, hoteliers and suppliers, I was replying to an urgent email from a tour operator in South Africa when I heard a loud beeping noise.

"What's that noise?" asked Jules, working at the desk next to mine.

"I don't know," I said, "it's very loud though."

"That's because it's coming from your jacket pocket, Steve" pointed out Kathleen, sitting opposite me with her hand over the mouthpiece of her phone.

"Oops sorry," I said as I took the pager out of my pocket. I read the message 'Time for a feed' in incomprehension for half a second. Then realisation crashed into my awareness. I stood up.

"Sorry I have to go and feed Bekka," I said over my shoulder walking quickly to the lift.

"OK, see you later, probably lunchtime, Steve, we'll be in O'Learys," said Jules to me before I opened the doors to the stairs, which seemed a quicker option to the lift as I thought of my little baby girl probably crying for her feed.

I ran up the stairs, two steps at a time, my rapid movement forcing me to hold my small but sore breasts to try and reduce their mad jiggling. I passed a couple of woman walking down from the package holiday call centre. They looked at me strangely.

Janis was holding Bekka, who was whimpering loudly, beginning to disturb the other three babies who were sleeping. I took my daughter into my arms and went into the small room indicated by Janis with some comfortable armchairs. Very soon my hungry baby was suckling and taking her nourishment from me. I felt happy and so connected emotionally with her. We were the whole world, my helpless child depending on me completely for everything and I was meeting her very basic needs with my body.

I became aware of Janis standing by the door to the room. She had a bottle in her hand and was looking at me and Bekka taking in the peaceful scene.

"Now I have seen everything, you both look so relaxed there. How long have you been doing this?" she asked.

"Since she was born" I replied

The sound of a baby crying interrupted our conversation.

"Sorry got to feed Alex, you must explain all this to me sometime"

A little later I put my changed and fed little angel back into her cot. I took some dry breast pads out of Bekka's bag and inserted them into my bra. I left Janis coping with feeding two little infants at the same time and having noticed the time I made my way across to the pub.

I entered and crossed the crowded lounge bar of the Irish themed pub. Some rebel music was playing on the juke box in the corner when I squeezed down next to Jules at the small table where they were waiting.

"We haven't ordered yet, how's Bekka?" asked Kathleen.

"She's great thanks," I replied," Thanks for keeping me a place, let me get the order".

By the time I had worked my way up to the bar, ordered the food and brought the drinks back to our table, through the packed throng, I was feeling very warm.

I took my work jacket off and hung it over the back of my chair.

I turned around and I noticed that Jules was staring at me.

"What is it?" I asked.

She lent forward toward me.

"I can't help noticing," she whispered into my ear, "but are you wearing a bra?"

---

To Be Continued...
 
End of Part One

*Nappies known as diapers in the US I believe

......I stood there with my mouth open in surprise. This lasted for a few seconds until I realised that I was the gorgeous young woman in the mirror.   A Mother's Love - Part 2 by Alys

---

Part 2

 

I was surprised at her comment. It was more than an observation, but less than an accusation. But I had little alternative but to admit to it.

"Yes," I whispered back, "but please keep it between us. I have good reasons for the bra but I can't tell you here"

"OK," she mouthed.

Luckily Kathleen hadn't noticed our brief interchange as her food had arrived and she had been busy sorting something out with the waiter.

Damn, I thought to myself, I will have to be more careful taking my jacket off in future. I took my baked potato off the waiter and tucked into it, while Jules and Kathleen ate their food. Small talk was difficult in the general hubbub of the pub, so we all concentrated on finishing our meals.

Some minutes later, we were able to sit a little closer together with a good chance of hearing each other speak.

"How are you finding the work, Kathleen?" I asked.

"Very interesting, it's so hectic though, I'm glad to escape for a while" she replied.

"Well these customers are paying so much for the holidays that we organise, they can get pretty complicated, as I'm sure you've seen so far," I commented.

"Yes, you're right"

"That's enough about work," interjected Jules,"tell us what you meant by your remark this morning that Mary 'has gone'"

"Well it's exactly that" I replied,"she's gone to stay with her Mother in Manchester, I hope she will be back on Friday"

"Hope?" asked Jules.

"There is stuff going on at the moment, sorry Jules" I replied.

I looked away, a little embarrassed that I couldn't reveal too many things. I noticed the clock on the wall.

"Hey, we'd better get back, it's nearly the end of the lunch break," I said.

We hurried out of the crowded pub and made it back to our office just before Mrs Williams, the senior manager appeared. I began working through the phone calls and emails that had accumulated during the last hour and a half.

It was after six by the time I felt I had completed enough arrangements and schedules to leave work. Janis had again been intrigued while I gave Bekka her afternoon feed. but again too busy to have time to talk to me. I strapped my bundle of joy and her seat into the front seat of the car and slowly made my way up the busy streets and then arterial roads back to my little two bed-roomed terraced house in Finchley. As I parked the car on the little driveway I felt tired. Work had been intellectually stimulating but physically demanding.

"Sugar!" I exclaimed as I noticed the unwashed nursing bra in the washing basket of dirty clothes and the wet one still in the washing machine. I considered my options and it looked like leaking into a T-shirt was going to be the best one, although I wasn't sure how well I would sleep with my upper body slowly getting damper as the night went on. I quickly washed the dirty bras and hung them up to dry.

I looked through the T-shirts and was inclining towards one of Mary's as being probably a better fit, when I noticed one of her bras on the table. I took it and after a few seconds of hesitation I put it on. It was one of her Wonderbra's and it made my breasts look a lot bigger and with a significant cleavage. The ultimate irony, I thought, now that she was no longer pregnant and I was breast feeding, I was almost as big as her in the boob department.

I touched the material of one of her dresses in the wardrobe. As an intellectual exercise, I rationalised to myself, I took one of her low cut dresses and slipped it carefully over my shoulders. It was, as I anticipated, tight around the waist and loose around the butt. I put on of her wigs, put on a little dab of subtle lipstick and looked at myself in the mirror. I was astonished, I stood there with my mouth open in surprise. This lasted for a few seconds until I realised that I was the gorgeous young woman in the mirror. I took the wig off but I still looked female, but with short hair.

There was a sharp knock on the front door. It woke Bekka up so I quickly picked her up in her shawl and then prepared to give whoever had knocked 'a piece of my mind'.

"Waitrose Delivers, madam," was the polite and cheery grocery deliveryman who was there at the door, "an order for Mr Steve Jones?"

I looked at him in puzzlement, then realisation dawned and I recovered my senses.

"Ah yes, sorry he's not here," I responded trying desperately to pitch my voice a little higher than normal, although being a natural high tenor meant it wasn't too difficult to reach a contralto range.

"I guess you are Mrs Jones," he said looking at the order sheet. "No problem," he continued, "Where do you want the shopping?" he asked.

I showed him where to leave the dried food and cans, while I changed Bekka.

He emptied the contents of the cold bags into the respective places in he fridge and freezer.

Bekka began to whimper.

"Thanks for bringing the shopping in," I said smiling at the deliveryman," you can leave the rest of the things there on the side. Sorry I've got to feed my baby"

"That's no problem, madam," he replied, "she looks very sweet, what's her name?"

"Bekka," I replied.

"Nice name, have a good evening," he said as he departed.

"Yes thanks again, and you too," I replied

I closed the door and sat down on the comfortable rocking chair, relieved that my deception had not been detected. My sweet daughter's desperate mouth found its target and she suckled eagerly.

The phone rang, I reached over to it with my free right hand. I noticed the caller phone number displayed on the phone.

"Hi Steve" said Mary a little hesitantly.

"Hi Mary, I'm missing you. How are you feeling?" I asked still using the voice that I had used with the deliveryman.

The reply was cold and unexpected.

"Who are you and what are you doing in my house!?"

---

To Be Continued...
 
End of Part Two

As she suckled, I looked down at myself and reflected on the strangeness of my naked breasts, one of which was giving sustenance to the little girl of the house. Coupled with a pink dressing gown, very little body hair and the panties that I was wearing, I didn't see much that was male.   A Mother's Love - Part 3 by Alys

---

Part 3

 

"Where is Steve? What are you doing in my house?" asked Mary.

I realised that my earlier attempt at deceiving the grocery delivery man had been much too successful, I had now managed to accidentally fool my wife into thinking I was a woman.

"Mary, it's me" I replied, lowering the pitch of my voice to a normal range.

"Steve?"

"Yes"

"Who's that woman with you then?" she asked angrily.

"That's me too, I was just messing around with my voice earlier"

"Why?" she asked.

I explained about having to wear one of her bras because the nursing bras were wet and then the dress and the makeup.

"You idiot," Mary said a little caustically,"how is Bekka?"

"She is here in my arms now, feeding," I responded.

"Oh, how is it going?" she asked with an odd tone in her voice.

I looked down at our daughter sucking greedily on my nipple.

"Really well. You should have seen the face on the nursery nurse when I started breast feeding Bekka, it was a picture of surprise and.........." I paused when I realised my mistake in prattling on about being able to feed Bekka, when Mary couldn't.

"Oh, I'm sorry Mary, I forgot," I said apologetically.

There was a pause. I waited anxiously for her response.

"Listen, Steve, I'm going to hang up now and before you ask, I'm not sure when I'm coming back. Give Bekka a kiss from me, bye." She said before ending the call.

"Or if you're coming back, I guess," I said into the now dead phone, before replacing it on the base station.

I stroked the thin hair on Bekka's head as she continued to guzzle. Our similar intolerance to cow's milk had given Mary and I an initial shared experience at university, where we had both studied French and German. That, and a deadly sexually transmitted virus, that she had acquired from a brief sexual encounter before she met me, had lead me onto the path of estrogen/anti androgens and then induced lactation of the last eight months.

But now the very success of the treatment, essential to Bekka's survival, was driving a wedge between us.

Suddenly I felt Bekka's grip on my nipple slacken. I looked down to see my precious daughter fast asleep. I put her into her cot, next to the bed. I slipped off Mary's dress and too tired to search out a pair of my pyjamas from my wardrobe, grabbed one of her nightdresses and got into bed. I was asleep as my head touched the pillow.

Too soon, Bekka's grizzle woke me up. It was just after 4am.

"Well done, sweetheart," I said to her quietly as I picked her up, reflecting on her progress in sleeping over five hours.

I quickly changed her, discarded my damp nightdress and bra and after putting on Mary's dressing gown, sat in front of the TV to give Bekka her early morning feed. As she suckled, I looked down at myself and reflected on the strangeness of my naked breasts, one of which was giving sustenance to the little girl of the house. Coupled with a pink dressing gown, very little body hair and the panties that I was wearing, I didn't see much that was male. I shook my head at such weird notions and pulled the dressing gown to cover myself better.

Later on, I was making my way through the slow moving traffic to work. One of the main frustrations of driving to work was that although there would nearly always be a period when the traffic was fairly free flowing and my hopes rose about arriving at work early and having the luxury of a coffee and a chat with my fellow workers before the onslaught, it never made a difference to the length of the journey. Since every period of traffic moving well would be counter-balanced by the times when the main road metamorphosed into a huge car park.

It was two minutes before the appointed time to start work by the time I was walking through the main entrance carrying Bekka in her car seat. I smiled at John, standing in the middle of the plaza, exchanged a few words of greeting and rushed on towards the lift, just squeezing into one that was about to go up.

A few minutes later, after leaving Bekka in the capable hands of Janis in the nursery, I was speed reading the emails from the various people that Adventure Travel dealt with throughout Europe and beyond. Five involved phone calls later, two in French, two in German and one in English, I looked up to see Jules offering me a cup of coffee. I sipped the welcome beverage.

"Thanks," I said.

"You're busy this morning and you look tired Steve." she commented.

"Well you know how it is when you're a, more or less, single parent and you're b............." I stopped before I revealed more than I wanted to.

"And you're what?" asked Jules.

"um, maybe tell you later, lunch at O'Leary's again?" I suggested.

"Sure and, look, Kathleen's on a course, so maybe you can spill the beans?"

"Maybe....."

I was interrupted by another phone call and was soon engrossed in my work. Some hour or so later I had just clicked on send on yet another email when my nursery pager went off. Jules looked up as I stood up to go to the feed Bekka, I mouthed 'see you at O'Leary's' to her, since she was on the phone. She gave me the thumbs up sign as I left the office floor.

Janis was rocking Bekka who was whimpering a little when I arrived at the nursery.

I took my precious baby off her and settled down in the comfortable chair as the day before. I opened my baggy shirt and pulled the flap of my bra covering my left breast down to allow Bekka access to lunch, or was it late breakfast or brunch?

Janis had a quiet few moments so she sat down opposite me.

"So tell me," she asked quietly," what's the deal here with you and this breast feeding. I talked to one of my friends who works in a nursery and we couldn't work out the why and how of this"

I smiled at her.

"In fact," she continued," it took me half an hour to convince her that this was not some elaborate wind-up"

"OK, let me explain"

I gave her a brief summary of the events leading up to me breast feeding Bekka.

"HIV, that's tough, your poor wife." She said sympathetically.

"Yes," I responded,"but at least the drugs are working well for her and we managed to avoid Bekka getting it too"

Our conversation was interrupted by the cries of two of the other children in the nursery and in a moment Janis was a whirlwind of activity.

I settled back into my parental bonding with Bekka.

"Well that is a peaceful scene," said Mrs Susan Williams, my immediate superior and the person who had lobbied for me to use the nursery with permission to breast feed.

"Hi Susan," I responded.

"Well I wouldn't have believed it without seeing it, it's amazing and I'm sure Mary must be proud of your efforts. Not many men would do what you have done," Susan stated.

"I think she appreciates it," I responded.

"Anyway I can't stop for long but I wanted to give you some news and made an offer to you"

"Oh really?"

"I've just come back from a meeting of the Senior Management Team and I must say that we are impressed with what you have achieved in being back only a day and half. You seemed to have solved some logistic problems that had been plaguing us for weeks just with a few phone calls and emails."

"Just doing my best, Susan"

"You are too modest Steve. But listen, here's the offer, we want you to think about it for a day or so. We are thinking of setting up a new department to deal with clients who want a more personal service and are prepared to pay appropriately for it. We are talking about organising exclusive holidays staring at a minimum of one hundred thousand pounds," she stated.

"Wow, some big spenders," I responded.

"Yes and we want you to lead this section with maybe one or two assistants, think about it Steve, OK?," she requested, before gently stroking Bekka's head and leaving me to contemplate a very lucrative job offer.

O'Leary's was as crowded as usual when I eventually arrived a while later. I made my way to a corner table that Jules had managed to commandeer.

"Thanks," I said at the sight of the spicy chickpea wrap and orange juice that she had ordered for me," how much do I owe you?"

"It's on the house," she replied," a down payment for you revealing all"

I chuckled.

"OK, Inspector Clouseau, I will confess all," I responded.

"I don't want your confession, just the juicy details of your crimes," she stated in a mock serious tone.

"I'll come quietly," I responded.

"Come on," she said laughing," just tell me what the story is with you and the you know what"

"OK," I said before giving her a similar story to the one I had given Janis earlier.

Jules's response was rather more marked since she knew Mary a little, we had occasionally associated as a foursome with her and whatever partner she was with. She made sympathetic noises when I told her about my wife's illness. When I got onto the breast feeding she stopped eating and stared at me open mouthed as I explained the how, why and wherefores.

"This I must see," she stated firmly after I had finished my explanation, "when will you be feeding Bekka again?"

"Sometime mid-afternoon, about three hours from now"

"OK, I'll try and organise my phone calls to avoid that period, this should be an interesting experience"

I looked at my watch and realised that it was time to return. As we walked briskly back to our office I told Jules about the job offer and asked her if she would be interested in being one of my assistants. We reached the main entrance but before I could get a response John had hailed me.

"Mr Jones, excuse me sir but this gentleman has something for you," he said referring to a young man in a post office courier uniform who was holding a mountain bike in one hand and a small package in the other.

Jules continued onto the lift while I signed for the package.

I looked at it as the lift made its rapid ascent.

"What is it?" Jules asked.

"It's a same day delivery letter, that is ruinously expensive," I responded.

"Who's it from?" she asked.

"I don't know, there is no return address on the back, although the writing looks familiar"

I looked at the post mark, I made out 'Manchester'. I felt my pulse quicken. The lift reached our floor, I stepped out and stood in the corridor and opened the package. Inside was a sheet of paper and a ring. A wedding ring. Mary's wedding ring. I opened the folded sheet of paper and started reading

'Dear Steve
I'm sorry, I can't go on like this. Being with you has felt more and more like being with another woman and after yesterday on the phone..............'

I couldn't read the rest. I dropped the package on the floor and banged my fist on the wall, jolting my breasts violently and painfully at the same time.

"Noooooooooooooooooo"

---

To Be Continued...
 
End of Part Three

Jules turned in her chair. She did a double take and put her hand to her mouth, obviously surprised. "Am I that ugly?" I asked. "No Steve, not at all, in fact you make a very attractive woman"   A Mother's Love - Part 4 by Alys

---

Part 4

 

I sat in the small staff lounge, I was grateful that there was no-one else there. I didn't remember how I had got there, just some vague idea of Jules taking my arm as I wept and leading my along the corridor.

I picked up the package and took out the letter, I steeled myself to read the difficult first sentences again

'Dear Steve

I'm sorry, I can't go on like this. Being with you has felt more and more like being with another woman and after yesterday on the phone when you told me about wearing my clothes I knew that you were no longer the man I married. Please forgive me if you can.

You have been the most wonderful husband and the sacrifices you made for Bekka were something you should have not had to make. I blame myself for the whole situation. I got drunk one night and I will pay for it for the rest of my life.

Every time I see you feeding Bekka it reminds of what I can't do and what I shouldn't have done in the first place. You are better off without me in your life. I don't know how long I will be relatively healthy either so how can I commit to look after our child. You can have the house and custody. I'm going to try and make the best of what I have left.

I am so sorry, please forgive me.

Mary'

Jules came out from the kitchen with two mugs of coffee.

"Can I see," she said," well only if you think it's appropriate"

I handed her the letter, she sat down and read in silence. She placed the letter down on the table and sat back with her coffee. I picked up the letter and put it in the package. There was silence between us for a few minutes.

"Mary seems very confused and in distress, Steve" Jules said, speaking as if she was choosing her words carefully.

"I don't know what to think" I replied," she has been down ever since the birth. Last week she said that she needed to get away to think things through. I hoped that she would be back"

"I'm sorry, Steve, I don't know what to say. Maybe she will change her mind. What was the thing about her clothes?"

I explained about the dress, the delivery driver and Mary not recognising my voice on the phone.

Jules smiled briefly.

"It all sounds pretty harmless but it seems to have provoked a severe over reaction in Mary"

Our discussion was cut short by my pager calling me to feed my daughter.

"I've got to feed Bekka now, Jules," I said picking up my package with the letter and the ring.

"Can I come?"

I nodded my head. We walked quickly, in silence, towards the nursery. Janis looked harassed as she held Bekka in her arms while feeding another of her charges in his chair. I briefly introduced Jules to her and then took Bekka to feed her in the comfortable chair in the back room.

As Bekka suckled my deep depression lifted a little. At least I had someone who needed and depended on me, even if my wife had decided that she no longer had a place for me in her life.

"You both look so peaceful there," said Jules after a little while.

I smiled and gently stroked Bekka's head.

"It's such a beautiful experience to be able to supply Bekka's needs from my own body," I replied, " I'm lucky in another way too"

"What way are you lucky?" Jules asked.

"Not many women who induce lactation have enough milk for their babies, they usually need supplementary feeding" I replied.

"Yes I can see that you are larger than me in the boob department," Jules commented.

"Thanks to my Mum and my sister's DD's, I guess," I said, smiling a little.

"Yes, I guess it must be genetic," Jules said.

There was quiet between us for a little while.

"Jules, are you busy after work?" I asked.

"No, why?" she replied.

"I wondered whether you would be able to spend some time at my place, maybe have tea? I don't want to go home to an empty house" I said

"Listen," she replied," why don't I go and see Susan and ask if we can have the rest of the afternoon off and I'll take you home"

"Are you sure?," I asked, "oh what about my car?"

"I'd like to help you know. You can leave your car in the staff garage, it'll be secure there overnight." Jules stated.

"Yes that's a good idea, it's probably safer than outside my house. But what about work....?"

"I could give you a lift?"

"It's a bit out of your way, Jules"

"It'll be OK for one day and anyway an excuse to get up a bit earlier for once."

"Thanks Jules"

She left me with my daughter and went to look for Mrs Williams our line manager.

Almost an hour later Jules had fought her way through the mid-afternoon traffic and we had reached the haven of my street.

The afternoon went quickly as I tidied and cleaned a little while Jules amused Bekka with some nice noisey toys.

"It is an amazing thing to see you feeding Bekka," Jules said as I was giving Bekka her evening feed while Jules prepared an omelet and salad for the two of us.

"It's only what any loving parent would do if they had to, Jules," I responded.

"I don't know any other man I have ever met who would have done what you are doing Steve," she said.

"You know what, Jules, I never even considered what other men would do when I agreed to take the hormones, it just seemed that I had no choice but to ensure that my daughter had the best start in the world"

After we had eaten our meal and I had tidied up, Jules indicated that she needed to get back to her own place, which was another half an hour's drive to the North East of the city.

"Before I go though, I am a bit curious about what you might say was , 'what the butler saw', or in your case, 'what the delivery driver saw'"

"What do you mean?" I asked before the penny dropped and I laughed," you want to see me in Mary's dress?"

"Just for fun, only if you feel up to it after earlier on," she responded.

"I'm not sure," I said and then after a couple of seconds, "well it might be useful, you can give me an objective viewpoint after what Mary said about it feeling like being with another woman"

I went to our bedroom and changed into the push up bra, low cut dress and wig from the previous day. On an impulse I added some lipstick and went back to the kitchen where Jules was sitting with her back to me reading a magazine.

"Well? What do you think?" I asked.

Jules turned in her chair. She did a double take and put her hand to her mouth, obviously surprised.

"Am I that ugly?" I asked.

"No Steve, not at all, in fact you make a very attractive woman"

---

To Be Continued...
 
End of Part Four

I looked in the mirror, I was very impressed with Jules's handiwork. "Well it looks very good, if I didn't know I would think I was a girl," I said laughing a little. "It's all about accentuating the positive and covering up the negative," she responded, smiling.   A Mother's Love - Part 5 by Alys

---

Part 5

 

I lay on my side in the bed, the sound of Bekka's quiet breathing in her cot next to the bed was a reassuring sound. I looked at the clock again. It read one minute later than the last time I had looked at it, five fifteen. Another half an hour before I needed to wake Bekka for her feed. I had hardly slept between her late evening and her night feeds at about two.

I looked at the wedding day picture of myself and Mary, three years ago, a beautiful Spring morning. It had been such a wonderful day, everything had gone like clockwork. Forty odd friends and family at Haringey registry office. Honeymoon after in Prague and Vienna. Two cities steeped in culture and history.

Bekka made a whimper. I rolled out of bed and walked over to the bathroom. I took off the cotton nightdress, which I had gone to bed in to save on wearing and having to wash one of my few nursing bras. I placed it in the dirty washing basket and then stood and relieved myself, not thinking too much about the incongruity of the action. I put on Mary's dressing gown and picked up my now alert little miracle and placed her to my breast. I stood there for a little while as she fed, an innocent little soul. I sat down and reflected on the previous day.

Two hours later one single beep of the horn, from the street outside, announced the arrival of my lift for the morning.

I grabbed Bekka in her car seat and her bag and made my way quickly outside.

"Hi Jules, thanks for this" I said as I got into the car.

"How did you sleep?" she asked.

"Very badly," I replied.

"You still love her don't you?" she asked.

"Of course, I do, I want her to come back and Bekka needs her to come back. After this breast feeding is over there's no reason why we can't have more normal roles," I replied.

"Maybe you should try and meet her." she commented.

"How could I do that, Manchester is 5 hours away by car, I'd have to stop to feed Bekka on the way, what would people think, how could a man go into one of the special nursing rooms?" I asked.

"Yes I can see that would be a problem" she responded.

There was silence between us for the rest of the journey, I was too tired to make conversation and I sensed that Jules was a bit uncertain about the whole situation. The needs of navigating through the labyrinthine traffic chaos took her concentration while I dozed a little.

We reached our workplace in time and Jules went up to the office while I dropped Bekka in the nursery.

The rest of the morning went on auto-pilot. I managed to get through the initial flurry of phone calls and emails in time to give Bekka her brunch.

Kathleen was back and so the three of us had lunch while she told us about her course. Both Jules and myself were glad of the distraction I thought.

Susan, my line manager, popped into see me while I was feeding Bekka in the afternoon. She asked how I was, I just replied non-committedly.

"Anything I can do to help, you know where I am," she said as she was about to depart.

"Thanks Susan," I said before returning to feed my precious little one.

I made it back home, through the rush hour, it was raining, by the time I pulled up on the little drive of the house. The miserable weather suited my feelings. I checked the post, nothing personal, there were no phone messages. I took Bekka out of her car seat and carefully bathed her. She made happy noises as the warm water washed over her. I wrapped her in a towel and rocked her for a little, she stared at me and there seemed to be the trace of a smile on her face. I knew it was too early for that but it was nice to see.

She was suckling greedily onto me as I sat back in the armchair. I flicked on the TV, after a few minutes channel hopping I turned the TV off and turned on the music centre. The stirring music of Holst's planet suite surrounded me. I picked up my mobile and clicked speed dial one for Mary's mobile. The phone rang for a little and then the standard voice mail message cut in.

"The person you are calling is not available please leave a message"

"Mary please phone back you can't just give up now," I spoke into the phone, about the fifth similar message I had left during the day.

I fell asleep on the bed after putting Bekka down after her evening feed. Her cries woke me at ten, I fed her, took my clothes off, put on another nightdress and fell back to sleep again.

After having had some sleep the night before, I was slightly less tired when I started work the next day, Friday, the last day of the week. Which was a good thing as there were more problems to solve and to anticipate with all the company's overseas clients in anticipation of the weekend.

I had finished my list of phone calls when Jules came over when with a coffee.

"Thanks," I said

"You know I may have an idea about how to get to Manchester" she said.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Can I come round after work and discuss it with you?" she responded.

"Sure I was thinking of cooking Lasagna, do you like that, it would be nice to share" I said.

"Yes I love Lasagna, that sounds good," she responded.

The rest of the day followed the previous one although my curiosity about what Jules might have in mind meant that I was looking forward to the evening.

"So what is this idea of yours?" I asked as we eating our meal with a glass of Chardonnay, in my kitchen later on after I had bathed and fed Bekka.

She paused and then looked at me.

"Listen don't take this the wrong way but seeing you in Mary's clothes the other day has suggested something to me," Jules replied.

"I hope you are not going to suggest what I think you're going to" I responded.

She smiled.

"It would work though, you could easily look like a woman and no-one would think anything of a Mother breast feeding her baby in the nursing room," she said looking at me encouragingly.

"I am very sceptical about this, it's one thing to put on a dress in the house but to act as a woman outside with people watching, they would all know," I commented, very unsure about trying such a thing.

"Why don't I try and sort an outfit that would look good and be easy to carry off," she said.

"OK, but don't expect this idea to work," I responded.

We changed the subject and she entertained me for a while talking about the failings of her last boyfriend.

Jules handed me a push up bra a long, casual skirt and top and a v-necked cardigan, from Mary's closet, as we stood in my bedroom.

I took my clothes off, forgetting, in the familiarity of my bedroom, that I had an audience and was soon standing there, bare breasted, in my boxers. I became aware that Jules was staring at me there.

"You'll need panties under the skirt to hold you in a bit," she said.

She handed me a pair, without thinking I took my boxers off and then noticed she was staring at my flaccid penis, I put my hand over it in embarrassment.

"Sorry I am so used to stripping in front of Mary in this room," I said apologetically.

"Can I see it?" she asked.

I took my hands off my dick.

"Can you still get an erection, you know after taking the hormones?" she asked.

"Not easily," I replied," it usually takes a while and I have to play with my boobs too"

"Like this?" she said, as she touched my nipple with her finger and slowly traced my areola.

I felt an electric charge go through me, Mary had refused to touch me there and we had not had sex since some months before she gave birth, so it was a new experience to be caressed on my own breast.

"What about this" said Jules as she touched my penis and it responded

She moved closer and her lips met mine, I kissed her back. Bekka whimpered. I gently pushed Jules away.

"I'm sorry Jules, this is wrong. You are turning me on but it's not something I want at the moment"

"Sorry, Steve, I got a little carried away, let's carry on with the experiment"

I quickly put the clothes on and then the wig.

"Let's try this lipstick and this foundation, just a small amount, over where you have a few stubble marks on your chin"

She busied herself for a few minutes and then pronounced things to be satisfactory.

"Have a look"

I looked in the mirror, I was very impressed with Jules's handiwork.

"Well it looks very good, if I didn't know I would think I was a girl," I said laughing a little.

"It's all about accentuating the positive and covering up the negative," she responded, smiling.

"Anyway it doesn't mean that this will work in public," I stated.

"Well there is only one way to find out," she said.

"What is that?" I asked.

"Let's go for a drink"

---

To Be Continued...
 
End of Part Five

".... How is everything else?" She asked. "What do you mean?" I asked "You know, the clothes and stuff," she said referring to the female outfit she had persuaded me to wear. "It's totally weird, I hope I don't get found out" I responded   A Mother's Love - Part 6 by Alys

---

Part 6

 

The green sign on the side of the road came into view

NEXT SERVICES
10 MILES
CORLEY SERVICES
WELCOME BREAK

I turned up the air conditioning so that a stronger blast of cool air hit my face. The monotony of motorway driving coupled with weeks of broken sleep was making me feel a little bit drowsy. My phone rang. I touched the ear piece, of my hands free phone kit, to receive the call.

"Hello"

"Hi Steve, it's Jules, where are you?"

"Just got onto the M6, done about......just over a hundred miles so far, about half way there." I responded.

"Heard anything from Mary?" Jules asked.

"No, there's no response from my text messages or phone messages" I replied.

"Oh, OK, well I hope she is OK. How is everything else?" She asked.

"What do you mean?" I asked

"You know, the clothes and stuff," she said referring to the female outfit she had persuaded me to wear.

"It's totally weird, I hope I don't get found out" I responded.

"You'll be fine, it worked great in the pub yesterday," Jules reassured.

"Yes but you were there with me so I didn't have to say much, sorry Jules got to go now I've just turned off for the services to feed Bekka"

"OK, good luck, bye"

"Bye" I responded and then pressed the ear piece to disconnect

I pulled into the service station car park. It was busy, which was not surprising since the weather was clear and warm, unusually warm for early April, the weekend before Easter and plenty of families seemed keen to start their holidays early.

I unstrapped Bekka's car seat, she opened her eyes at the movement, her gaze wandered for a second and then she noticed me. I smiled back at my little one.

"Soon be lunch time sweetie," I whispered to her.

I picked up her seat and her bag and, after locking the car doors, I walked towards the main concourse of the restaurants and other facilities. I was very aware of the unfamiliar swish of my skirt and the breeze rippling my loose blouse, as I made my way towards the hundreds of people in the centre. Every step I took, even while I was trying to look confident, I was expecting to be exposed as the fraud that I felt I was.

I followed a group through the automatic doors and stood looking around to find the facilities that I needed. Standing there it all felt so overwhelming that I wanted so much to escape back to the car and somewhere to hide. Bekka's whimper reminded me that I had no choice but to carry on.

I had been over a minute standing in the concourse, feeling bewildered and unable to decipher the directions to the various parts of the service station when I heard a cough behind me.

I turned in the direction of the sound.

"Excuse me Miss, but are you OK?" asked the elderly service station security guard.

"Um, no," I replied, trying to pitch my voice correctly," I'm looking for the nursing room"

My main reason for stopping at these services were the provision of a special room for breast feeding.

"It's over there," the security guard responded pointing at a small door situated between two shop units.

"Thank you very much," I said to the guard before making my way over to my haven.

I paused for half a second to read the sign on the door.

Nursing Room
WOMEN ONLY!

Another whimper from Bekka removed any last minute hesitation and I opened the door.

I made my way over to one of the two changing mats and quickly changed Bekka's nappies, I then sat down on one of the four comfortable leather armchairs and put her to my breast.

As she suckled hungrily I looked around the room. It was quite a bright room with natural lighting from the skylight, complementing the subdued artificial lights. Apart from the four armchairs and the changing table there was also a TV, which was showing one of the many soap operas I didn't watch on TV. The best thing about the room was that there was no-one there at that moment. I hoped that I could get away without having to meet anyone.

I took my phone out of my bag. There were no messages from Mary. I sent her another.

Am on way to Man, be there 3 hrs

I pressed send and put my phone away.

"I'm sure she'll want to see you, Bekka," I whispered quietly as I stroked the wisps of hair on her head.

My peace was shattered as the door opened and a thirtyish woman with a baby in her arm and a small girl in her hand walked into the room.

"I want to pee pee Mummy," said the girl.

"It's OK Jenny, I'll find you a loo, after I've changed Julian," replied the harassed mother.

At that moment baby Julian decided that he needed more, immediate attention and began a series of ear splitting, mind numbing screams.

"Want to pee pee Mummy," said little Jenny, making her contribution to send her Mum's stress levels past Superwoman limits.

"OK, JENNY, ONE MINUTE," she said firmly while trying to wrestle with baby Julian, who had now added another of his talents to his vocal performance, the complete body wriggle.

"Need to pee pee NOW!"

Jenny's mother looked at her daughter with total exasperation, as she entered the second round of her WWF match with baby Julian.

"Excuse me, there's a toilet on your left that your little girl could use," I said, trying to help restore sanity to the atmosphere.

The Mother turned to me and smiled her gratitude.

"Jenny, the toilet is over there," she said to her desperate daughter.

She finished changing her child and then sat down in the armchair next to mine. Soon peace and tranquility was transformed as baby Julian's attention was taken by filling his belly from his Mum's breast.

"Your baby is lovely dear is it a boy or a girl?" asked my companion in the room after a few minutes.

"It's a girl" I responded as briefly as possible, hoping that there would be no more conversation.

Jenny returned from the loo and wanted some refreshments from her Mum who quickly palmed her off with a banana and some apple juice and directed her towards the play area in the corner of the room. LittleJenny busied herself with the dolls house.

"I'm Vivian, everyone calls me Viv though," stated my companion after a few more minutes.

"I'm Stev.............Stevie," I responded, correcting myself just in time.

"Stevie?" Vivian inquired," that's an unusual name"

"Yes it's short for.......Stephanie," I responded after desperately trying to think of something appropriate.

"Is it your first?" Vivian asked.

"Yes, what about you?" I asked," do you have more than two?"

"Oh no," Vivian replied, laughing, "as you can see these two are more than enough"

"Are you planning to have any more?" she asked. I was beginning to feel that I was being cross examined.

"Don't really know, I guess it depends" I responded while thinking that if Mary and myself did possibly have more children I would have to carry on breast feeding for years maybe.

Vivian seemed to home in on my uncertainty.

"Is your husband, or boyfriend with you today?" she probed.

"Umm, no" I responded after a pause.

"Oh, I'm sorry to be nosey"

"It's OK, that's why I'm going North, we had a bit of a break up" I responded, hoping that Bekka would have had enough nourishment soon.

As in answer to my thoughts Bekka released my nipple, full for the moment. I quickly rearranged my clothes and grabbed my stuff.

"Bye dear, " said Vivian, " good luck"

"Thanks," I responded, " bye"

Outside the room I breathed a huge sigh of relief.

I made slower progress than I had hoped, for the rest of the journey North and it was almost an hour later than I had planned when I turned off the M60 onto the A34 towards Didsbury in Manchester. I had planned to stop at the nearby Travelodge, where I had booked a room, to change clothes. However with only a few minutes before the time I had said I would arrive and needing soon to feed Bekka I made straight for my Mother-in-law's house.

I pulled up in a space a little way away from their three bed-roomed semi and made my way towards what I hoped was not going to be embarrassment.

I knocked the door and waited in trepidation.

Andrea James, Mary's mother, was a well dressed, plumpish woman in her late fifties. She stood in the door, looking at me without showing any signs of recognition.

"Hello, can I help you?" she asked in a condescending tone clearly mistaking me for someone who wanted something off her.

"Hi Andrea, is Mary here?" I asked.

"Why do you want, who are you? Steve? Is it you?"

"Yes, and your grandchild. Can I come in, she'll need a feed soon."

"Of course, but what's with looking like a woman?"

I sat down in her kitchen while she made me a cup of coffee. I gave her a brief resume of the day's events. She laughed at my description of the nursing room

"You have had an adventure today, yes I can see why you are dressed as you are. But why didn't you phone me to say you were coming?"

"I phoned Mary and sent her text messages, but she didn't reply," I replied.

"Oh I see"

"Is she here? Can I see her?" I asked.

"Here?" said Andrea looking at me in some surprise.

"She is staying here isn't she?"

Tears started welling up in Mary's mother's eyes.

"You don't know, do you?" she asked quietly.

"Know what?" I replied feeling a strong sense of foreboding.

"She's in hospital, her HIV has become resistant to her drug regime, she's got full blown AIDS!" Andrea stated.

---

To Be Continued...
 
End of Part Six

As we got in the car she looked at me strangely and said. "Well this is something that I never thought I would have to say to my son in law, but I think you'd better repair your make up, your mascara has run"   A Mother's Love Part 7 by Alys

---

Part 7

 

Bekka suckled greedily on my nipple, the feeling of closeness to my precious daughter was some small comfort after the terrible news about Mary. I stroked her head gently. Andrea sat opposite me at the kitchen table, lost in her thoughts. The noise of Bekka feeding and the tick of the kitchen clock were the only sounds to disturb the silence. Mary's Mother turned her gaze towards me.

"It is so strange to see you feeding my granddaughter, Steve. Mary told me what you were doing but it is another thing to see it," she said

I didn't know what to say so I carried on feeding Bekka in silence.

After a few minutes, Andrea got out of her chair and picked up our coffee cups to wash in the sink.

"I don't understand," I said quietly.

"What don't you understand," Andrea asked.

"What I don't understand is how she has deteriorated so quickly, she seemed OK the last week when she came to stay with you," I replied.

"Didn't she tell you she had some test results?," Andrea asked, coming back to sit opposite me at the table after drying the cups.

"What results?" I asked.

"She went for her monthly check up before she came here, didn't you know that?" she inquired.

"Yes, of course and she said that everything was fine," I replied.

"Didn't you wonder why she wanted to come and see me the next day?"

"A little, but Mary said she wanted to get away for a few days, she didn't seem any different, she has been down since she gave birth"

Andrea paused for a few moments and then looking at me spoke again.

"That's when she first knew about her treatment failing and also the suspected cancers"

"Cancers!?", I responded abruptly, startled at the mention of the C word, Bekka was jolted off my nipple. She continued to suck for a few moments and then started to whimper. I put her carefully back to my breast.

"What do you mean by cancers?" I asked my Mother-in-law.

Andrea carefully told me everything she know about the results of my wife's tests. The cancer that had originated in her ovary was spreading rapidly because of the inability of her body's defences, compromised by AIDS, to fight it. After she had finished telling me this we sat quietly while I finished feeding Bekka. My head was spinning as I tried to digest the terrible news that Andrea had given me. After all my expectation and hope of seeing Mary again and hoping for us to be reconciled, these developments were very hard to take.

Bekka finished feeding, I adjusted my bra and my dress and sat with my daughter in my arms, slowly rocking her to sleep.

"How long?" I asked, quietly.

"How long?" responded Andrea, not understanding my question.

"How long will Mary survive?" I asked.

"Oh, the prognosis. Um, it's not good at all, maybe a few weeks, although if they could find a new combination of drugs for her AIDS then there would be more hope," Andrea explained.

"Are her doctors trying new drugs?" I asked.

"They would if she'd let them."

"What do you mean, if she would let them?" I asked, surprised at Andrea's comment.

"She won't give permission, she doesn't want to try, says that the side effects are unpleasant and that she is sick of having to take so many drugs"

"Please can we go and see her?" I asked," maybe I can persuade her not to give up. When's visiting time?"

Andrea looked at the clock in the kitchen.

"Oh, it's later than I thought, we need to get there in half an hour. OK, if we go now, we should make it, there's one problem though," Andrea said, looking strangely at me.

"What's that?" I asked.

"There's no time for you to change, could be a bit tricky," she replied and then paused, obviously trying to think of a solution to the problem of Mary's husband turning up looking like a woman. She smiled and then continued," I know we'll say you're Mary's sister, what can we call you?"

"What about Stevie, you know, short for Stephanie," I replied, explaining about the woman in the service station.

"Sounds fine"

Almost forty minutes later we were stepping into the lift near the entrance of Manchester Royal Infirmary. The journey had taken longer than usual because of the traffic coming from the Manchester football derby.

Andrea pressed the button for the fourth floor where the Critical Care ward was situated. We walked into the quiet, ward where a few patients were connected to machines that bleeped and pinged quietly in an almost musical harmony.

The ward sister took us over to a room in an annexe of the ward. She explained to me and reminded Andrea that only one visitor at a time was permitted and that anyone entering the room would have to wear clinical overalls, masks and gloves to reduce exposing Mary to any possible infections. Andrea went in first, while I sat outside with Bekka in my arms, she slept quietly.

Some fifteen minutes later, Andrea came out, there were tears in her eyes.

"She'll see you now," she said. I handed Bekka to her, tied my mask on and was about to open the door when she put her hand on my arm.

"Try not to appear shocked by her appearance, she has gone down a long way since you saw her last"

I entered the room. It was light and airy. In the corner, next to the window I saw what looked like a wizened old woman lying in a bed with machines attached to her. I walked over.

"Hello Mary" I said, uncertain of her response.

"Steve?" she replied, raising her eyes at my appearance.

"Yes"

"Why are you dressed like that? In my dress and wearing makeup?" she asked.

I sat down and held her hand and explained about feeding Bekka on the motorway.

She laughed weakly when I told her about the children from hell in the motorway service station.

"Thanks for coming, I am so sorry about the letter I sent you and the wedding ring," she said," I couldn't think what to do, I wanted you to be angry and not come and see me."

"Why?"

"I have caused so many problems for you, I know I can't help either you or Bekka now, I wanted to be gone from your lives," she said. Tears began welling up in her eyes.

"Mary, I need, you, I love you, why do you want to die?" I asked tearfully.

"Look at me Steve, how can I do anything now....." she said and then she coughed with the effort of speaking.

"You can fight this Mary. Let them try and find a new drug combination for the AIDS"

"Please Steve, I can't fight any more, it's too hard," she started crying and then had another a fit of coughing.

The nurse, who had been checking Mary's vitals, came over.

"I'm sorry Miss I think your sister needs a rest now"

I took one last look at Mary before leaving the room.

I took Bekka from Andrea and held her close to me, my treasured gift from Mary, we walked along the corridors in silence, the tears were flowing freely down our cheeks.

As we got in the car she looked at me strangely and said.

"Well this is something that I never thought I would have to say to my son in law, but I think you'd better repair your make up, your mascara has run"

---

To Be Continued...
 
End of Part Seven

"Don't you recognise me?" I asked. "No," he replied. "Don't you know your son-in-law?" I asked. "But you're a woman, I just saw your, well you know," he stated.   A Mother's Love - Part 8 by Alys

---

Part 8

 

I laid Bekka down gently in the travel cot. I breathed a quiet sigh of relief as, after a little whimper, she resumed her peaceful sleep.

I was so exhausted, physically and emotionally, after the journey and the revelations about Mary that I just wanted to lie on the bed and crash out, without bothering to change my clothes. I forced myself to take off my dress, my tights, my bra and pants. I looked around for my suitcase for my PJ's.

There was no sign of my suitcase.

Strange thoughts of someone having broken into the house while we were at the hospital to steal my stuff came to mind. A sudden cold breeze rushed through the window, flickering the thin curtains and touching me with a chilling caress. I felt goosebumps forming on my skin and my nipples begin to harden.

Where was my suitcase?

I looked under the bed, without any success and then my exhausted, barely functioning brain remembered.

It was still downstairs in the living room. I hadn't brought it up with the travel cot. I considered my options. I didn't want to put my dirty clothes back on. I didn't want to walk round the house naked. I looked around the room for something suitable to wear.

I spotted a small pile of clean clothes on a chair next to the wardrobe in the room. I carefully looked through them and near the bottom found a blue nightdress with a bodice that looked like it would give me some support. I pulled it over my head and, after adjusting it a little, found it a mostly comfortable, if slightly tight, fit. I quickly took out some clean nursing pads from my bag, inserted them in the appropriate places and finally got into bed.

Sleep came within seconds.

What seemed like seconds later, but according to the clock was nearly four hours, my precious daughter was practising her human alarm clock routine. To avoid her cries waking Andrea I sleepily rolled out of bed and picked her up. I stuffed my finger in her mouth to suck while I worked out how to free the source of my hungry child's midnight snack from the bodice of my nightdress. After a few seconds of contortions I realised that the only answer was to push everything down to completely expose my upper body.

The only good thing about sitting up in bed, bare breasted, at around 2am, was that the cool night air coming in through the window stopped me falling asleep again. It was very much an auto feed. I was glad when Bekka had had enough and went back to sleep. My return to the arms of Morpheus took seconds again.

I felt the warm sun on my face. I opened an eye. The morning sunlight was pouring through a narrow gap in the curtains and illuminating my face. I had a strange feeling of confusion about the room that I was in. It looked so unfamiliar. Where were my familiar posters on the wall. The walls were such a different colour. Where was I?

"Waaaaaaaaa.......waaaaaa," the voice of Bekka waking and wanting my attention pulled me back into the reality of where I was. At the same time I became aware of a wetness on the front of my body. I jumped out of bed, quickly stripped off my wet nightdress. I picked up my daughter, quickly changed her, and then sat back in bed, putting her to my naked breast.

I felt much more comfortable with the central heating having warmed up the bedroom nicely. I pressed the radio button on the clock radio in the room. The station 'ident' was just being repeated.

"This is Classic FM, and time for some early morning Mozart, the Vienna Symphony Orchestra with the overture to the Marriage of Figaro," said the relaxed announcer.

"Great", I said to myself, " Mary's favourite too, I hope you like it sweetie," I continued as I stroked Bekka's head gently.

"and they say it'll make you a genius," I whispered to my daughter, as she suckled, thinking about the disputed Mozart effect on intellectual development*.

"Mary! You're home, it's a miracle that you have...." came a voice that was fairly familiar, as the door to my bedroom was opened wide.

In the door frame stood the smartly suited figure of George James, Mary's father. He had stopped in mid sentence and was staring at me, first my face and then my naked breasts and then back to my face. My face flushed with myembarrassment and I reacted without thinking and covered my breasts with my free arm.

"Oh you're not Mary, I'm so sorry I thought you were my daughter, that is one of her favourite pieces of music, she's very ill you know, sorry to disturb you feeding your baby, are you one of Mary's friends?" he asked while averting his eyes from my upper body.

"Don't you recognise me?" I asked.

"No," he replied.

"Don't you know your son-in-law?" I asked.

"But you're a woman, I just saw your, well you know," he stated.

"It is me George, didn't anyone tell you about me having to feed Bekka?" I asked.

"Oh yes I can see now, of course, I'm sorry Steve, I'm not sure I took it all in when Andrea told me. This is all a bit confusing," he rambled.

"Why don't you make a pot of tea, and I'll come down and explain everything when I've finished feeding Bekka," I suggested.

George was grateful for the excuse to leave, "Yes that's a good idea, to tell you the truth I'm a bit parched myself. Only got in from Berlin an hour ago." he said before leaving me in peace to complete my morning baby bonding.

Some fifteen minutes later I was sitting in the kitchen table opposite George, drinking a refreshing cuppa. I had found a skimpy, fairly translucent, dressing gown to wear and a pair of panties to hold in something else that dangled. Having a somewhat fuller bust than my wife, due to the breast feeding, I was aware that my female curves were enhanced by my attire.

I enjoyed the obvious discomfort that George obviously felt in my presence as I explained the details of my having to feed Bekka.

"Yes I can understand the why and how but I still don't get why you look so female" he commented.

"It's amazing how clothes, hairstyles and make up can alter completely how someone is perceived," I replied.

"Still you are very brave to do this all for Bekka"

"Yes he is, isn't he?" asked Andrea from the entrance to the kitchen.

George and Andrea embraced and then she reminded me that we needed to leave soon to make it to the hospital to visit Mary and hopefully catch her doctors to discuss any possible treatment options.

I quickly showered and dried my hair. Andrea helped me with my make-up and then chose a pretty, low cut, black dress, that was styled in such a way that my lack of female hips was concealed. I was surprised that she wanted me to be exposed so much. She explained that it would take peoples' attention from my face and then no one was likely to question my assumed gender.

"This looks tighter on you than it used to look on Mary," Andrea said after checking that I looked good enough.

"Yes, the few things of hers that I've had to wear, they're mostly a bit tight here," I said indicating my boobs.

Andrea suddenly sat down on an armchair.

"My son-in-law now has larger breasts than my daughter, that is beyond strange," she said looking at the picture on her window ledge, of Mary and I on our wedding day.

"Yes, Andrea," said George," sometimes the changes in society since we were young are hard to comprehend"

In a moment Andrea had recovered her composure and we were on our way to the hospital.

We entered the ward and made our way to the nurses' station.

A middle aged Filipino woman was sat at the desk. She looked surprised to see us, since eight twenty in the morning wasn't a normal visiting time. George explained who we were.

"Ah Miss James, of course, open visiting for her," she responded, after checking the details on her computer. The reference to Mary's maiden was like a dagger to the heart. As if we had never had a marriage. Those precious times together discarded.

"How is she?" I asked.

"I'm sorry she did not have a good night, she was crying a lot, mostly awake I think," she replied.

The nurse, whose name tag said Rosa, suddenly noticed something on the computer. She read it carefully.

"You are Miss James's sister?" she asked, strangely.

"Yes," I replied confirming my assumed identity, wondering why the nurse would be asking.

"Miss James has made a request of you," she said looking at me in an embarrassed way.

"Yes, what is it?" I asked in trepidation.

"I'm sorry to tell you this but she has asked that you don't visit her," she said tersely, " and she doesn't want to see your baby either"

---

To Be Continued...
 
End of Part Eight

"What is it?" I asked. "This is even more weird than you having a bigger bust than Mary," she replied," seeing you in that leather jacket and shirt, feeding my granddaughter, obviously a man in many ways, but at the same time a woman in others"   A Mother's Love - Part 9 by Alys

---

Part 9

 

I sat in the hospital café, it was very quiet at such an early hour. Andrea had suggested that I wait here for them while they visited Mary. I slowly turned my spoon in my cappuccino while rocking Bekka back and fore in her car seat, which I had placed on the table. She was calmed by the rocking and the presence of my face near to hers.

"Don't worry Bekka, it's not your fault that Mary feels so down," I said quietly to her while gazing at her perfect baby face," it's such a shame that she won't see us"

The tears that I had managed to suppress, after being informed of my wife's wish not to see me and Bekka, finally came and I felt the streaks of moisture running down my cheeks. I let my sadness express itself fully as I considered the great difficulties that I had in coming to see Mary in the first place. The long car journey with a baby, having to dress as a woman and to behave convincingly as one, having to create a female name and even a new identity as my wife's sister.

It was all in vain. She had rejected me.

Bekka made a little squeaky sound. I looked at her and felt a strong emotion for my completely dependent daughter welling up inside me.

"At least I have you," I said to her, while touching her little hand," you still need me"

I reached into my pocket for a handkerchief to dry my eyes. My right hand encountered something unfamiliar. I had no pocket with a handkerchief in it. I was wearing a dress.

I searched around for something, a paper tissue or napkin, to remove the excess moisture on my face.

"Can I help you?" said a tall, attractive man dressed in medical overalls, sitting opposite me, but a few seats down, at the café table.

"Oh I'm sorry, I don't have a handkerchief, can you see if there are any tissues?" I asked.

"Please, you're welcome to use this,"he said as he took a clean, folded handkerchief out of an inside pocket of his overall and handed it to me.

"Oh thank you so much," I said and proceeded to use the beautiful soft, silken material to dry my eyes and face.

"Oh I am sorry, " I said as I went to hand it back, " I've smeared my make-up all over your beautiful handkerchief"

"Don't worry," my saviour said in an accent that implied a life of privilege," you're welcome to keep it, I have many of them, they were an embarrassing birthday present from my Mother"

A warm smile touched his mouth, briefly.

"Why are they embarrassing?" I asked intrigued.

"They've all been embroidered with my initials, see there in the corner, the three letters," he continued, pointing to some blue stitching.

I looked at the letters.

"'J'..'M'...'B', what does that stand for?" I asked.

My attractive companion hesitated.

"Well you might as well know, I guess we'll never meet again, it's Jonathan Maurice Brown. I tend not to use the name Maurice now, I used to play a lot of rugby and Maurice is maybe not such a good name to have as a rugby player," he explained.

"I can see that," I commented, while mentally labelling Jonathan Maurice Brown as probably an upper class homophobe.

I looked at my watch and realised that Andrea and George would be coming to collect me in a few moments. I picked up Bekka's bag and zipped it up.

"Well Jonathan, I am grateful for the handkerchief and I...." I said.

"Please before you go," he interrupted," can't you tell me your name and why you were so upset?"

"Well firstly my name is Stev......Stephanie, this is Bekka, and why I am upset, it's impossible to explain really" I replied.

"Please, I'm a doctor here," he stated," and even if I cannot suggest something at least I can listen and understand. I'd be honoured to have the new owner of one of dear Mama's handkerchiefs to share a little of their life with me"

I thought about what I could say that would be plausible and brief. Jonathan seemed to be expressing genuine concern and I did wonder whether my initial assessment was completely accurate.

"It's quite simple really," I started and then paused to think of the exact words to use," my sister is dying, and does not have long to live"

"Oh, I am sorry to hear that," Jonathan said, "could I ask what condition is responsible for this?"

"AIDS and cancer, " I said tersely.

"That is a vicious combination," he responded, then hesitated for a few seconds," I'm an oncologist you know, a cancer specialist. What's the prognosis?"

There was something about this stranger's interest that made me want to confide some of the problems I was facing.

"Maybe only a few weeks. Bekka is her daughter, but she is so depressed she doesn't want to see her or me" I said.

"Why is that?" he asked, looking puzzled.

With perfect timing my precious child choose that moment to wake up with a whimper and a little cry.

"I'll show you," I said, and without hesitation I took Bekka out of her travel chair, exposed my left breast and let her have some breakfast.

As I had expected, Jonathan was completely unperturbed by me feeding my baby in such an open place, I figured that a hospital would be the last place to be bothered.

"You're feeding your sister's baby?" he asked, looking very surprised.

I explained about the cow's milk intolerance, he of course knew about HIV transmission rates. I also explained about her refusal to try different drug combinations to fight the AIDS.

"Yes, I understand, if her doctors could boost her immune system then she could fight the cancer better, or at the very least not have to be in an isolation room. She could even transfer to a Hospice" he said while appearing to be thinking about something.

"Yes, if only someone could persuade her," I responded.

Jonathan nodded in reply.

I assumed that my meeting with the gallant doctor was nearly at an end and since Bekka had dropped back to sleep I put her back in her chair. I then attached the chair to the buggy and stowed her bag.

"Thanks for listening Jonathan, it was nice meeting you, thanks for the handkerchief, bye," I said before turning to push the buggy away.

"I might be able to," Jonathan said.

I turned back towards him.

"You might be able to do what?" I asked.

"I might be able to persuade your sister to change her mind," he explained.

"How can you do that, you're not her doctor," I responded.

"I have some family experience of these diseases," he said.

Jonathan then went on to explain how his elder brother, Paul, had died of AIDS in the late eighties, having been infected by the untreated factor eight clotting agents for haemophiliacs. His uncle Jeremy had died from AIDS and cancer in the early nineties.

"How did your uncle get infected," I asked.

"He was gay and it seems that there was a bath house culture at the time, with unsafe sexual practices, that resulted in high transmission rates," he replied.

My assessment of Jonathan was suddenly turned on its head.

"Listen I have to go now, " he said after glancing at his watch," give me your sister's details and I'll try and come in a little early before my shift tonight to have a word with her"

"Oh thanks so much for thinking about this," I said before giving him Mary's full name and ward number.

"What about some way of contacting you to tell you how I get on?" he asked, smiling.

"Sure," I replied as I gave him my mobile number.

I was somehow glad to get out of my female attire, after we had arrived home about an hour later. I had been dressing and acting as a woman for over a day now and it felt very strange. I almost felt as if I was losing my real identity as I played the role of Stephanie with increasing conviction. I had told Andrea and George about Jonathan. They had not held out much hope of his success.

As I had described my conversation in the café, I had conjured up an image of his strong, tall manliness and for some reason I had smiled at the thought of him.

I changed into black jeans, a loose shirt and leather jacket to cover up my maternity bra. I removed all traces of make up and put on my men's size six shoes.

"George," I said as I walked into the lounge where the two of them were reading the Sunday papers.

"Steve, you're back again, that's a relief," he responded.

"Fancy a pint down the Black Bell?" I asked.

"Of course, that sounds just the thing, I've got a bit of a thirst, I missed good old British beer when I was over in Berlin"

We walked over to the pub, it was a warm late Spring day and soon I was sweating a bit under my leather jacket, but there was no way I could take it off.

We stayed in the Black Bell for a good hour and watched some of the lunchtime Premiership football game. Too soon it was time to get back in case Bekka had woken up.

Andrea was rocking Bekka to comfort her and was trying to interest her in having a suck of the dummy while she waited for her liquid 'lunch'. But my daughter was obviously going to be a strong willed woman as she kept spitting the dummy out as soon as it was put in. She knew what she wanted and she wanted it now!

I sat down and rewarded her for her persistence. Andrea stood there and looked at me oddly.

"What is it?" I asked.

"This is even more weird than you having a bigger bust than Mary," she replied," seeing you in that leather jacket and shirt, feeding my granddaughter, obviously a man in many ways, but at the same time a woman in others"

"It's only until she can be weaned, Andrea," I said, "I'll go back to being her dad then"

"Yes of course, I know that, but it is just strange for me to see you, but I am grateful to you for your sacrifice"

"There was no other choice," I commented.

Andrea left me to feed Bekka while she prepared the Sunday dinner. She was a traditionalist and we were soon tucking into roast beef, Yorkshire pudding, roast potatoes, carrots and peas, with lashings of mouth watering gravy. The two of them had a glass of wine each, I stuck to water for obvious reasons.

I lay back on the sofa, after the large meal, and was soon dozing.

I woke with a start, the room was getting dark. There was a loud ringing coming from my jacket pocket and there was a vibration that was jiggling my right breast a little painfully.

I took out my mobile and answered it.

"Hello," I said.

"Is that you Stephanie?" inquired a familiar voice.

"Who is this," I asked, a little confused by the question.

"It's Jonathan, remember, we met this morning in the main hospital café"

"Oh, yes, I'm sorry," I said regaining my full mental alertness and also modifying my voice.

"How are you?" I asked.

"I'm fine," he replied," listen I haven't got long before I start my shift."

"OK, so did you manage to speak to Mary?" I asked.

"Yes, I spoke with your sister just now. I think that I managed to allay many of her fears," he replied.

"Oh, thank you for that, you are very kind," I responded.

"I was only trying to help, but listen, there is more good news"

"What?"

"She said that she doesn't want to wallow in self pity anymore and will have a go at trying to find an effective drug treatment"

"Thank you, that is great news"

"Also, she said that she is looking forward to seeing you, and her daughter, tonight if you can come to visit!" Jonathan concluded with a note of triumph in his voice.

"Oh thank you, thank you so much Jonathan," I responded loudly and happily. Andrea heard my exuberance and came into the lounge to see what the reason for the commotion was. I have her a thumbs up sign.

"I don't know how I can ever repay you for your kindness, Jonathan," I said with tears of joy in my eyes.

"Well there is one thing you could do," he replied.

"What is that?" I asked.

"You could let me take you out to dinner"

---

To Be Continued...
 
End of Part Nine

"You know, Steve, I can't believe how much like a woman you look," he said," and not only that but a remarkably attractive one too" "Yes, it amazes me too George," I responded," and thanks for what I guess is a compliment" "Are you sure that you'll be able to go back to being completely a man..you know, afterwards?" he asked after a pause. "Yes, I'm pretty certain, George, don't worry, anyway remember I still am a man under all this," I commented. A Mother's Love - Part 10 by Alys

---

Part 10

 

"Brr..brr.......brr..brr," came from the earpiece of the phone.

There was the slightest click as the phone was answered.

"Hello, Adventure Travel, Jules speaking, how can I help you?"

"Hi Jules," I said," how are you?"

"Steve! I was wondering what had happened when I didn't hear from since Saturday morning. Is everything OK?" my work colleague asked.

"Yes, it's fine," I responded and gave her a quick resume of the three days since I last contacted her. She was pleased that Mary had agreed to see me and expressed her surprise at my forthcoming 'date' with Jonathan.

"And Mary agreed with this?" she asked.

"Well she was surprised," I replied," but she thought I should do it to preserve my assumed identity as her 'sister'"

"What about Bekka?" asked Jules, "how will you go to dinner with this doctor and also feed her"

"Listen to this," I responded.

"To what?" asked Jules quite faintly as I had began to move the phone towards the machine that was humming on the desk next to me"

"What do you think that is?" I asked, when I had returned the phone to my face after a few seconds.

"No idea, a bread machine, turning the dough?" Jules suggested.

"No, it's an electric breast pump," I said, laughing, feeling the rhythm of sucking and releasing on me as the machine slowly deposited droplets of Bekka's life giving liquid into the collecting bottle.

"Well good luck and rather you than me with that machine," Jules responded chuckling.

"It's not as bad as all that once you're used to it," I said," anyway I promised Susan that I would make a few phone calls while I was up here, can you patch me into the phone network?"

"Sure," she replied and then we made our farewells and she wished me luck.

I listened to my phone messages while finishing pumping. The timer on the machine pinged and it turned itself off. I looked at the nearly full bottle attached to the machine and felt satisfied with the results.

I had been surprised, too, when Mary insisted I should take up the offer of dinner with Jonathan. It had been so nice to see her yesterday morning, with Bekka, and she had been in such positive frame of mind, having decided to accept the medical intervention. I didn't feel I could refuse her, although I wasn't much looking forward to my 'date'.

Jonathan had sounded a little surprised when I had phoned him to confirm my acceptance of his offer. He had then further surprised me by suggesting that we meet tonight. I had rushed into Mothercare and bought the breast pump, which Andrea and myself had experimented with yesterday. To our delight Bekka had been perfectly content being fed with my milk from a bottle.

"Are you ready to change?" asked Andrea, popping her head around the door to the study.

I gave a thumbs up as I finished my last phone call to France, managing to massage the ego of an hotelier whose payments were a couple of days late.

I quickly showered, washed and conditioned my hair and then Andrea helped me colour my natural mousy brown into a rich chestnut brown. She did my makeup to give me an sophisticated look. By the time we had finished this it was time for me to give Bekka a feed so, with the bottle that Andrea was going to give her later, she would last the night.

It was relaxing to sit with Bekka feeding her while I listened to some more Mozart on the radio. I still couldn't believe that I was about to go on a 'date' with an attractive man, but I felt that I owed him so much after he had succeeded in talking Mary round.

Less than an hour later, after dressing in an elegant black off the shoulder dress, I was giving Bekka a little kiss on the forehead as Andrea held her.

"Good luck Stevie," she said, reverting to the female version of my name, as she had done more often during the last few days.

"Thanks Andrea I think I'll need it, and thanks again for helping me get ready," I responded.

"It's been fun," Andrea replied," you know it's funny this reminds me of sending Mary out on her first date, so I'd better say to you what I said to her"

"What's that?" I asked.

"Don't be late home!" she replied, laughing.

"I have no intention of being late," I stated as I got into the car with George, who was taking me to see Mary.

The traffic into the centre of Manchester was heavy and George drove in silence as he concentrated on navigating. After a while he took a quick glance at me.

"You know, Steve, I can't believe how much like a woman you look," he said," and not only that but a remarkably attractive one too"

"Yes, it amazes me too George," I responded," and thanks for what I guess is a compliment"

"Are you sure that you'll be able to go back to being completely a man..you know, afterwards?" he asked after a pause.

"Yes, I'm pretty certain, George, don't worry, anyway remember I still am a man under all this," I commented.

We eventually made it to the hospital and after parking the car made our way to Mary's ward. On the way I noticed that I was getting a lot of looks, mainly from men, but also from some women. It felt strange to be getting so much attention. I wondered what Mary would say.

As we walked into her room, no longer needing the face masks after she had began to respond to the new drug protocol, she was watching a film on her bed TV and looked half asleep. I was pleased that even after two days of treatment that there was a little colour back in her face. The noise of the programme had masked the sound of our entry and so we had reached the foot of her bed before she noticed our presence.

"Hi Mary," I said in my best Stevie voice.

She turned at the interruption and her mouth fell open as she looked at me. She lay there apparently shocked by my appearance.

"Oh my god," she eventually said when her powers of speech returned," I can't believe it's you"

"Do you like the outfit?" I asked, giving her a twirl.

"It is amazing," she said," when I asked you to show me what you were going to wear, before you went to dinner, I thought you would look OK, but never THIS good!"

"That's what I said," stated George," I can't believe how good she....he....whatever, how good Steve..Stevie looks"

"It's just like wearing fancy dress, anyway I'd better go I said I'd meet Jonathan in the cafe in five minutes," I said.

"OK, have fun, and Stevie," she said with a smile on her face gesturing for me to come closer.

"Yes?" I asked, and sat down next to her, she moved her head close to me.

"Don't let him get past first base on your first date," she whispered with a broad grin on her face.

I stared at her in complete incomprehension and then I realised what she was referring to and then I suddenly blushed deeply.

"You are a baaaaaaaad girl," I said laughing having overcome my embarrassment, " he's not even going to get on the plate so no need to worry"

I gave Mary a kiss and then left her and George together.

If I had received a lot of attention when I was walking with George in the hospital I now garnered many times more as I made my way to the café. I found it very disconcerting. Everyone I went past looked at me, some stared and a few ogled. I was feeling very nervous when I finally found a haven of a table in the corner. A waitress came over.

"Would you like to order something Miss?" she asked.

"I'm not eating thanks," I replied.

"Something to drink?" she suggested.

"Well yes, that's an idea," I said as I considered how stressed I felt," could I have a small white wine, medium dry"

Within a few minutes I was sipping my glass of Chardonnay and letting the alcohol infuse into my system, as I tried to stay calm preparing for the ordeal ahead.

"Starting early?" asked a familiar voice, interrupting my reverie. I looked up to see the smiling but clearly tired face of my evening's escort.

"Hello Jonathan," I said smiling," you look like you've been giving the NHS* it's money's worth.

"And you dear lady," he responded," look like a million dollars"

"You flatter me, Dr Brown," I said," now are we going to have something to eat soon, I'm very peckish"

I finished my wine and he lead me out to his car in the doctors' car park. I was surprised to see a rather battered Volkswagon Golf.

"No Mercedes or BMW?" I asked jokingly," doctoring not paying these days?"

"I'm very sorry madam but the butler has taken the 'Roller'** to the ga-rage, I hope that this will suffice?"

"Well I can only hope that the food will be of a higher standard," I replied with a pretended haughtiness in my voice.

The journey through Manchester seemed to be over in seconds as we chatted amiably about his work and mine but it was a quarter of an hour later when Jonathan pulled up outside the very expensive looking Italian restaurant.

The restaurant looked very busy and there was a queue of people waiting in the bar for a table but as Jonathan has prebooked we were soon sitting in a secluded corner. The service was quick and after ordering we sat with full glasses of a fine Soave.

"So Stephanie, and I hope you will excuse me calling you that since that dress is a lot more Stephanie than Stevie," he said looking into my eyes, " can I be so bold as to ask whether there is a man in your life at the moment?"

I averted my gaze from his.

"Well...no, I guess there isn't", I replied a bit hesitantly," I mean I don't have a boyfriend"

"I find that hard to believe, someone with your looks," he continued.

"What about you?" I asked, trying to divert his attention from my fictional love life.

"No there seems to be no women that want to be involved with a hard working public servant like me," he replied smiling.

I smiled back.

"That I don't believe, don't all doctors have marks on their bed posts, I heard that you're only in it for the attractive nurses," I suggested, while being sure that someone as ruggedly handsome as Jonathan wouldn't be short of female company.

"Then it is my misfortune to be working on wards where all the attractive nurses are already married," he continued with the same light hearted tone.

Our banter was interrupted by the arrival of our Lasagne Pesce al Forno. While we ate our delicious meals our conversation moved onto anecdotes from our different workplaces. Jonathan amused me terribly with a series of humorous patient and doctor stories, the majority of which sounded more apocryphal than not. I related one or two funny holiday booking mix-ups.

Too soon we were drinking our coffee and the evening, that had been so pleasant, was nearing its end.

"One thing that puzzles me Jonathan," I said as I stirred soya milk into my Irish coffee.

"What's that Stephanie?" he asked.

"How come with your wealthy background you are working in the NHS in Manchester and not in the States or in private practice?" I asked.

"Yes, that's a good question and a number of my friends who are at Harrow*** with me are doing that. It was something that I thought I would be doing too when I was younger." he replied.

"So what changed things then?" I asked.

"The death of my brother and uncle," he responded, with the suggestion of a tear in his eye.

"Oh yes, you told me, I am sorry," I said quietly and instinctively put my hand on his arm.

"Their deaths were so tragic, painful and unnecessary that I decided that I would one day like to work to fight the devastation caused by HIV and AIDS," Jonathan said while putting his hand over mine. The contact felt so pleasant that I didn't remove my hand.

"How can you do that?" I asked.

"That's why I'm working in Manchester, I'm getting experience here before taking up a post, in two months, in The Royal Free Hospital in London at their Centre for HIV Medicine," he said.

"The Royal Free, that's just down the road from where I work," I blurted out without thinking of the implications.

"Yes, I know," said Jonathan smiling again.

His obvious pleasure at knowing that he would soon be working near to me in London gave me firstly a feeling of joy and then, as the caffeine overcame some of the mental dullness of the wine, feelings of uncertainty and disquiet. What was I doing encouraging him, I wouldn't ever go out with him again and he wouldn't want to spend time with me if he knew who I really was.

"Oh dear, is that the time, I need to get back now, sorry Jonathan, I have to be up for Bekka in the morning" I said sitting up and withdrawing my hand.

"Oh yes, of course, how selfish of me, I'll get the bill"

The drive back to Mary's parents' home was lightened by Jonathan telling me about the people and places in the area that we were passing though. A short while later he pulled up outside the house and opening my car door accompanied me to the door. I turned and faced him.

"This has been a lovely evening Jonathan, thank you very much," I said a little huskily in my tiredness.

"It has been my pleasure, Stephanie, I have really enjoyed spending time with you," he said tenderly

We looked at each other and there seemed to be an electric charge between us. He took a pace towards me and in an instant we were embracing and kissing gently and longingly. His soft caress on my bare shoulder sent tingles of pleasure through my body. I touched his handsome face with my fingers. Jonathan's right hand gently touched my breast as my body began respond.

The feeling of something begin to strain my panties was like cold water thrown on my face. I pushed him away gently.

"I'd better go now," I said

"I'd like to go out with you again," he said.

The impossibility of that struck me and I knew what I had to say to him. I opened the door in case I needed to make a quick getaway.

"Jonathan you are a wonderful man and you have given me a lovely experience tonight. I hope you have enjoyed it too. I'm sorry, there is something that I have to tell you and you will not want to see me again. There is no easy way to say this, I'm not a woman, I'm really a man," I eased into the house ready to shut the door in case he became aggressive.

"I already know," Jonathan said, smiling.

I stood and stared at him in utter disbelief.

*NHS = National Health Service which runs the vast majority of hospitals in the UK.
**Roller = Rolls Royce car, very expensive.
***Harrow = exclusive private school

---

To Be Continued...
 
End of Part Ten

"You know something else , Steve?" she asked, after a little pause, only disturbed by the general sounds of the ward and the gurgle of Bekka feeding. "What's that?" I wondered, while I gently smoothed my daughter's hair. "Even in those jeans and that sweatshirt you still look very female," she replied. A Mother's Love Part 11 - Conclusion by Alys

---

Part 11
 

I sat in the chair next to Mary's bed. Since yesterday when I had seen her before my 'date' with Jonathan, she had further improved and had been moved back onto the ward with three other women.

Bekka sucked hungrily on me, taking her mid-morning feed.

"She looks contented there Steve," said Mary after a few moments of silence while I had settled Bekka to suckle.

"Yes, it is a lovely feeling, such a close bond, I'm so sorry that you can't Mary," I said.

"I can't wait to get home," she stated.

"It will be lovely to have you there," I said smiling.

The general mood of everyone in the family had been enormously lifted by the news that Mary's new HIV drug protocol was having a great effect in improving her immune system. As a result her cancer seemed also to be responding to treatment now. When she had asked her doctors what her prognosis was they had said that they needed more tests to be sure but that she had a very good chance of living another year.

"You know something, Steve?"

"What's that?" I asked.

"I thought I wouldn't live to even see Bekka smile but now I should see her crawling," she replied.

"Yes," I responded smiling, imagining the two of us cheering our daughter when she finally started crawling around the house and leaving havoc in her wake.

"There is only one problem," I said smiling.

"What," Mary asked, looking

"Maybe she won't crawl." I said looking a little serious.

"Why, is there something wrong with Bekka?" Mary asked anxiously.

"Well, it's like this, maybe she won't crawl because she..." I replied, with the slightest of pauses," will be a bottom shuffler!"

"You are SO dead, Steven Jones!" Mary hissed at me.

We both laughed.

"You know something else , Steve?" she asked, after a little pause, only disturbed by the general sounds of the ward and the gurgle of Bekka feeding.

"What's that?" I wondered, while I gently smoothed my daughter's hair.

"Even in those jeans and that sweatshirt you still look very female," she replied.

I smiled at her.

"Although I suppose the fact that the sweatshirt is pink, the jeans are mine, there are highlights in your hair and you are wearing subtle make-up might strongly influence in how people perceive you," she continued, laughing.

I joined in the merriment, it was so lovely to hear the sound of my wife being happy again after the weeks and weeks of illness and depression.

"Anyway so your hot date got past first base then?" Mary asked coyly, referring to the basic description, of my night out, I had given her a few minutes earlier.

My face reddened again, the second time in five minutes.

"I'm sorry about that, it must have been the wine and the stress, I don't know what came over me" I replied feeling a bit flustered.

"It's OK, my sweet," she said softly, putting her hand gently on my arm," I guess I shouldn't have put you in that situation, I just thought it would be interesting for you to see the other side of the fence, even for only once in your life"

"Yes, I guessed that might have been part of the deal," I responded, before putting my free hand over hers and caressing it.

Bekka, in her usual style, decided that Mummy and Daddy's tender moment had gone on too long and spat my nipple out to announce the official end of baby lunchtime.

Unfortunately a few drops of my milk leaked onto her eye before I could move her away and soon our precious charge was informing everyone of her mistreatment, at aircraft take off decibel levels. I quickly readjusted my clothes and took my little one out of the ward, while Andrea and George took over the visitors' seats.

In a few minutes I had restored the equilibrium between myself and Bekka and she was sleeping gently in my arms. I was about to return to the ward to put her back in her chair when I felt my phone vibrating in my pocket. I flicked it open for the text message.

"Can I c u 4 a few minutes, just to talk, pls, Jon"

I was so surprised that I almost dropped the phone. After his revelation after our night out we had had a brief discussion on the doorstep and then he had gone. I thought that I would never hear from him again, but now a message.

I was a little intrigued about why he wanted to see me and was also curious because he hadn't yet explained how he had found out my real identity.

I replied.

"In café in 5 mins?"

"kk"

I walked quickly back to the ward and then, after leaving Bekka in her chair and briefly explaining the situation to Mary, made my way to the café.

I spotted Jonathan sitting at a small table, a little away from the main dining area. He spotted me just before I reached him and stood up to greet me. We lightly shook hands.

"I took the liberty of ordering you a black coffee," he said.

"Thanks," I responded.

There was an awkward silence between us for a minute or so, then he looked at me, directly in my face.

"Thank you for coming, Steph...Ste...oh no, I don't know what to call you now," he said.

"It might make it easier if you call me what you feel comfortable calling me, for the moment," I responded.

"In that case, thank you for coming to see me Stephanie," he said, smiling.

"It's not a problem, Jonathan," I responded.

"It's strange though, if I didn't know better I would say that you were one of the most attractive women in this room," he said.

"Jonathan, you know that's not the kind of remark I am looking for, but in a way it is a kind of compliment for my dressing up skills," I said," but tell me, why did you want to see me?"

"I wanted to explain my behaviour, yesterday, and apologise," he replied.

"Well I think it's best forgotten," I said gently," we both had maybe a little too much to drink, under the circumstances, and got carried away in the heat of the moment"

"It was a little more than that to me," Jonathan said, after a few seconds of silence.

"What do you mean?" I asked, wondering where the conversation was going.

"Listen, when I first met you on Sunday, I was first of all struck by your beauty, and then by your vibrant personality and finally by your heroism at supporting, what you said was, your sister in such a life changing way," he replied, looking at me quite intensely.

"I was pleased to be able to help you with your sister, but part of that was in the hope of seeing you again"

"OK, I understand that, even though it is all so strange to me," I said.

"But then," the handsome doctor continued," I found out your real identity when I read through your wife's notes to completely understand your condition more completely."

"How did you find out?" I asked.

"Well, I thought it was a bit odd that her husband and her sister should be using more or less the same name, Steve and Stevie. So, just in case there was more to the situation that appeared at first, I did a little research on the Internet. Your workplace has a nice recent picture of you on their website"

"Oh, I see, I hope no-one else has worked it out," I said anxiously.

"Don't worry, it isn't that obvious and I haven't told anyone," he reassured me.

Jonathan then explained how, after being surprised by me contacting him to accept the 'date', he had gone along out of curiosity, as a little personal test. But somehow by the end of the evening he had almost completely forgotten who I really was. He had felt deeply attracted to my apparent persona and it was her that he had wished to see again. He apologised again and stood up to leave.

"Listen, Jonathan, you're welcome to contact us when you come to London, we know some interesting clubs, and I would love to hear how you get on in the HIV unit in the Royal Free Hospital," I said.

"I'll do that, I promise," he responded, before shaking my hand and wishing Mary and I good luck.

I sat in the café for a few more minutes while I finished my coffee and pondered the strangeness of being perceived as the other gender. I took my cup back to the dirty cutlery trays and then walked at an even pace back to Mary's ward.

The beam on Andrea's face was so wide, when she saw me coming in, I thought her face might crack at the edges. George and Mary were also both looking very cheerful.

"What is it?" I asked.

"We had the tests ......and..." spluttered Andrea, finding it difficult to clearly express herself in her happiness.

"Do you mean Mary's tests?" I asked with a note of excitement in my voice. How good could they have been I wondered.

"It's really good news," answered George, speaking slowly and carefully so that the full impact of the news was made," the cancer is definitely responding to the treatment, and since Mary's doctors now think that it is only borderline stage 1 and stage 2 then there 70-90% chance of her surviving at least five years"

I stood astonished at the fantastically hopeful information.

"WOW, wow, that's wonderful," I said, loudly enough so that most of the other visitors and patients glanced at me.

"Come on George, let's you and me take Bekka for a little walk and leave Steve and Mary to talk alone," said Andrea, picking up Bekka in her chair and attaching it to her buggy.

I sat down next to my healing spouse and we held hands in silence for a few minutes.

"You know another thing, Steve," asked Mary.

"What?" I responded.

"You're much more important as a carer for Bekka than me in so many ways," she replied.

"Don't be silly you bore her and gave birth, that was the hardest work of all," I responded.

"And anyway...." I continued.

"What?" Mary asked

"You know that now, between us, we can give Bekka what every baby needs plenty of.....a mother's love"

---

The End

A felt a sinking feeling inside, as I feared where this conversation was going. "The way I see it, Stephanie is that either I suspend you from work and maybe even call the police or....," he paused to stare at my face, before moving his hands off the desk. I heard the noise of a zip being moved. A Mother’s Love - Vol. 2 (Complete) by Alys

---

Chapter 1

A warm summer breeze caressed my bare shoulder as I leaned over to take Bekka out of her pushchair. She looked at me intently and gurgled something back to me. I kissed her on her forehead. She smiled and made a little cooing sound.

"Oh that's lovely," said Mary," you both look so sweet"

She took out her mobile phone and took a quick series of photos as I sat on the park bench, put Bekka to my right breast and started giving my precious gift her mid-morning snack. Mary took out the shawl from Bekka's bag and draped it over the two of us so that my partial exposure would not attract unpleasant comments from passers by with prudish attitudes.

"Want a cuppa?" asked Mary.

"Is the shop open yet?" I asked.

"It should be, the sign says nine thirty on a Saturday," she replied pointing at a nearby advert for refreshments in the park.

"Yes, I'd love one then" I replied.

"OK, back in a bit," she said, before walking off in the direction of the Hornsey Park Tea Shop.

As I watched her make her way along the path, the yellow headscarf, covering up her hair loss from the anti-cancer treatments, flickering a little in the soft wind, I marvelled at how things had changed in the last two months. Apart from the side effects from the treatment, occasional nausea and hair loss, Mary had regained a strength and vitality that I hadn't seen since the early days of her being pregnant with Bekka.

It was less than a week since we had returned to London, from Manchester, and she was already making plans to return to her work in the planning department of the local council, even if only part time to begin with.

Bekka made a little whimper as she exhausted the milk supply in my right breast, I quickly transferred her to the other one while rearranging the shawl over my thin summer dress. I wondered how it was going to feel about returning to wearing male clothes from Monday when I went back to working in the office, instead of from home. I had managed to just about sustain my present level of responsibilities by remotely accessing the company computer and phone systems but until I returned I would not be able to take up the much improved job I had been offered.

"Where do you want it, Stephanie?" asked Mary returning with the cups of tea.

It had been so much simpler to continue to sustain the image of being a woman, while living in Manchester with Mary's parents, that I had even got used to being called 'Stephanie' all the time. Even Mary had switched to calling me that since she felt that to constantly to change from a male to a female name would be confusing and could lead to embarrassing slip ups.

"Oh I was lost in thought, you were quick, I didn't see you come back," I responded," by here on the arm is fine"

She placed the paper cup carefully on the arm of the park bench and held it until I was able to re-position Bekka to free a hand to take it. I took a sip of the hot, reviving liquid.

"Nothing like this, sitting in the park on a lovely summer morning with the two people I love the most," I said.

Mary knelt forward to kiss first Bekka and then me.

"You took the words out of my mouth," she said.

She sat down next to me and put her hand on my thigh, slowly stroking the bare skin.

"Mmmm, that's nice Mary," I said quietly.

"You have such lovely legs, my sweet," she said.

"You too, ma cherie," I whispered.

She moved her hand to my neck and softly caressed my face and shoulders. She leaned forward and kissed me gently on the cheek and then on the lips. I turned my face towards her and returned her kiss with passion.

"I love you Stephanie.....sorry Steve, oh so confusing," she whispered with a smile.

"I love you too, Mary," I whispered back.

At that moment Bekka decided that it was time for these adults to stop being silly together and to return their attention to the most important individual in the universe, her.

I stood up and rocked her in my arms to quieten her whimpering.

"Shall we walk, I can hold Bekka," I said," if you push the buggy, she should be OK in a little while"

"Sure," said Mary with a strangely sad look in her eyes.

"What's up?" I asked, after we had walked a few yards along the path.

"Nothing...it's a lovely day, it's nice to be in here at this time of day," she replied smiling with her mouth only, the small tears welling up in her eyes saying something completely different.

"Please, Mary, tell me what is upsetting you," I said.

"It's nothing, really, everything's wonderful," Mary said, avoiding eye contact as she spoke.

I put my hand on the buggy to stop it and then put our sleeping child back in. I took Mary's chin and turned her face gently towards me.

"Please Mary, let's not do that again, not tell each other how we're feeling. If there is something that is upsetting you I want to know"

There was a pause for a few seconds and then Mary took out a small handkerchief from her bag and dried her eyes.

"I'm sorry, Stephanie, I have no right to have these feelings," she said haltingly.

"What feelings Mary?" I asked.

"Well, it's hard to say this and it sounds so strange...." she started to explain and then somehow the words wouldn't come out.

"Please tell me," I said, turning away from her and slowly pushing the buggy along the path," I want you to be happy, my love"

We walked without talking for a few minutes.

"I am jealous, Steve," she said quietly. I was surprised at her deliberate use of my male name.

"Why?" I asked.

"It's hard to explain and I don't really understand it myself," she said," but..well, ok it's like this. I see you and Bekka together and I see you as such a wonderful parent to her, in fact you are both her parents in one."

"But you are her mother and always will be," I countered.

"Yes, but I don't feel like I am at all now. You're the one she responds to, I've seen how she always smiles at you when she sees you, she doesn't really respond to me as much," said Mary with sadness in her voice.

"It's early days, Mary, she is not four months old yet, and I'm sure at the moment it's cupboard love you know," I said

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"She knows where the next meal is coming from," I said, laughing.

Mary smiled in response to my merriment.

"Maybe if we shared the feeding it would make you feel closer to her," I suggested.

"I don't understand Steve, how can I do that?" Mary asked.

"There is a way," I said, smiling.

"What way?"

"There's always the milking machine," I said laughing.
 
 
Chapter 2
 
 
"Good Morning Mr Jones, welcome back," said the elderly security guard as I strolled into the office of Adventure Travel PLC.

"Good Morning John, how are you today," I asked, pausing briefly to collect an updated ID card that he was offering me, as I came to his desk.

"Mustn't grumble, mustn't grumble," John replied," and how are you Mr Jones?"

"I am very well thank you," I said as I made my way to the lift.

"You are looking very well, although there is something different about you, Mr Jones," remarked John," and how is your lovely child?"

"She is very well, thanks, but she's getting a bit heavy to carry now, we must be overfeeding her" I said, putting Bekka's chair down and for effect rubbing an imaginary sore arm. John chuckled and then I was saved any more comments about my appearance by the arrival of the lift.

I looked at myself in the lift mirror. Even wearing my shirt and jacket and tying my hair back in a less feminine ponytail I looked more androgynous than male. It didn't help that I now completely filled my maternity bra and as a result my office clothes were less loose on me. I wished I had checked my appearance earlier and had taken the opportunity to buy some larger sizes. I hoped that I would get through the day without any further comments.

A little later after dropping Bekka off in the workplace nursery and getting a funny look from Janis, the nursery nurse, I walked into the office. As I opened the door, Jules looked up from her desk.

"Steve!, welcome back!" she yelled, standing up and then walking toward me to embrace me.

"Hi, Jules, nice to be back," I said.

"Let me look at you. You have changed a lot since I saw you last," she commented.

"It is a couple of months," I responded defensively.

"Oh, yes, your hair is longer and I reckon you have grown somewhere else," she said smiling and discretely giving my right breast a light squeeze.

I blushed a little with the unexpected intimacy and moved away toward my workstation.

"So what's the goss?" I asked trying to divert her attention from my physical appearance.

I sat down behind my desk being grateful for the barrier while Jules filled me in with some of the office news.

Soon our conversation was interrupted by the needs of the job and I plunged into my usual long list of phone calls, emails and faxes to agents, hoteliers and suppliers. The time flew by as I battled to solve the usual weekend collection of holiday problems. Once again I was surprised by the number of times I was considered to be female on the phone, especially by people I had not spoken to before. This response seemed to be more frequent since I had gone to Manchester.

I was interrupted briefly by Jules bringing me a coffee and arranging our usual lunchtime visit to O'Learys, where we would meet Kathleen, who was on a language course nearby.

I felt something vibrating madly in an inside pocket of my jacket. I retrieved the pager that I had forgotten about while trying to get on top of my work. I glanced at the message.

"Bekka needs a feed"

I saved the European holiday itinerary that I had been working on and made my way quickly to the nursery to feed my beautiful daughter.

Janis, as usual, was busy trying to comfort Bekka while feeding some sunshine orange breakfast to an older child. I changed her quickly and then sat down to give my own sunshine her breakfast, which fortunately wasn't orange.

As she suckled contentedly I untied my ponytail which was beginning to give me a bit of a headache. It was a relief to have my hair free, even if it was irritating to have to keep brushing it away from my face, whenever I looked down at Bekka to check her progress. Soon it was time to swap breasts after she temporarily exhausted the milk supply in the first one.

"You don't look much like a Steve, you know, with your hair like that and feeding Bekka," said Janis.

I looked up to see her standing in the doorway of the little room I was using to breastfeed.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

She came in and sat down in the chair next to me and sipped on her coffee before answering.

"Why don't you tell me what's really going on, I didn't have much time to talk to you before you went away to Manchester," she said.

"Janis, I'm not sure I understand what you're getting at," I responded, feeling a bit puzzled by the question.

"Steve, I'm not naive and I watch the day time talk shows, you know," she explained," it's obvious to me that there is more to this situation and the breastfeeding"

"Really Janis, that's all it is, there's nothing else."

"Well what's with the hair then? Steve are you having a sex change?" she blurted out.

I looked at her in amazement.

"No, of course not, what sort of question is that?" I asked.

"Looking at you now, a sensible one I would have thought," she replied.

The empty feeding bottle flew into the room, heading for Janis. At the last minute I reached up and caught it in my left hand before it could hit her in the back of the head. I held it out to her.

"I think one of your customers wants some more attention," I said, smiling, as she took the bottle and frowned.

"Thanks, yes, he is a real bundle of fun, that one, I'd have ten children like your Bekka rather than one of him, anytime," she said before rushing off to give little Lionel more excessive attention.

I kissed my precious child and then returned her to her cot, after she had finished her feed and fallen asleep. I looked at the time and realised that it was time to meet Jules and Kathleen. I made my way to the pub, getting another strange look from John when I left the building.

I saw a familiar face walking toward me.

"Hi Kathleen, aren't five languages enough?" I asked our star linguist.

She stopped and looked at me.

"Steve?" she asked, uncertainly.

"Of course, who else?" I replied.

"Sorry, it's just that you look, sort of, a lot different, really, and why are you wearing that jacket, it's much to hot," she said, referring to the mid-day summer heat that was quickly feeling oppressive after the air-conditioned office.

"Hi Kathleen, Steve, what good timing, come on let's get over and grab a table," said Jules, who had come up behind us.

"It's a bit of a scorcher today, how do you like it Kathleen?" asked Jules as we made our way to O'Learys.

"I love this weather, but I don't think Steve does, I would be boiling in a jacket like that," she replied.

"Yes, Steve, why don't you take it off," Jules asked.

"You know why, Jules," I said.

"Yes, I suppose you have a point," she agreed," but it is hot and it might be the same in O'Leary's.

"Listen why don't you take your jacket off, leave your hair down and keep your shirt unbuttoned," Jules suggested after a few seconds.

"Why?" I asked.

"It will hint at what is under there and people, well men, will look less at your clothes and face while they're trying to work you what you've got," she replied.

"What do you mean, what he's got, Jules?" asked Kathleen.

"Steve, tell her, she'll have to know at some point," Jules said.

"She means my breasts," I said, taking off my jacket and unbuttoning the top part of my shirt.

Kathleen looked at me transfixed, and then shook her head in disbelief at what she was looking at.

"You've got boobs!" she said.

"Well done Inspector Clouseau, " said Jules, laughing.

"But, how, are you a woman who wants to be a man?" she asked, obviously completely flummoxed.

I considered the irony of having been questioned about being a transwoman and then a transman within thirty minutes.

"No, I'm 100% male," I replied," but have had to breast feed my baby and, it's a long story, I'll give you a précis over lunch"

"Throw your shoulders back to emphasise your assets a bit, be proud of your figure," said Jules.

I did as requested and borrowed some lipstick to add to the illusion.

We reached our destination and were about to enter with behind another group of office workers when I had an important thought. I touched both of their arms to stop them.

"Listen," I whispered," you can't call me Steve in the pub."

"Oh, yes, you're right, what can we call you instead?" asked Kathleen.

"What about Elizabeth, I've always liked that name," suggested Jules.

"Fiona," offered Kathleen," that's a nice name for an office worker."

"Stephanie," I said.

"What about Stephanie?" Kathleen asked.

"You can call me Stephanie, I'll explain inside, come on, before all the tables have gone,” I responded.

We found one of the last tables and occupied three of the four seats. I gave Kathleen a very short summary of how I had go to where I was while we considered what to order. They went off to order while I applied a little of the makeup bag that Jules had given me.

"Excuse me," asked a pleasant voice," is this seat taken?"

I looked up to see a well dressed man in his late twenties, looking at me with a slight smile on his lips.

"No, just the two on the other side," I replied.

"Yes, I guessed they might be from the handbags on the table, do you mind if I sit here?" he asked indicating the seat next to me on the table.

"Not at all," I replied," be my guest"

"I'm Eifion," he said as he sat down with his pint of beer.

"Stephanie," I responded, " you name is unusual, where are you from?"

"It's Welsh, I'm from Nefyn," he replied.

"Nevin, that sounds familiar somehow, where is it?" I asked.

"It's in North Wales, it's where the singer Duffy comes from," he replied.

We chatted about the popular artist's music and her origins, Eifion had gone to the same schools although he was a little older, and knew a number of people who knew her. Soon the conversation had moved onto the work that we did. I was enjoying the conversation so much that I didn't notice Kathleen and Jules returning until Jules put my drink and my chickpea wrap on the table in front of me. I made introductions and noticed Jules giving me a funny look.

"I leave you for ten minutes and you are already flirting with a handsome man, are you sure there's not something you want to tell me?" whispered Jules in my ear, after Eifion had gone to fetch another drink.

"The answer is in the stars, Jules" I said as mysteriously as I could.

Before she could think of a response Eifion had returned and we had resumed our interaction. By this time the pub was so busy and so noisy that it was only possible to talk to the person sitting nearby so I didn't feel that I was excluding Kathleen or Jules.

Jules tapped me on the shoulder.

"Time to go Stephanie, work calls," she said, emphasising my female name.

"Bye Eifion, it was nice meeting you," I said, standing up and smiling at my lunchtime companion

"It was nice meeting you too Stephanie, do you fancy meeting for a drink sometime?", he asked.

At that moment I wished that the floor would open wide and swallow me up. Behind me I heard Jules and Kathleen doing their best to suppress their amusement.

After a few seconds of indecision, I smiled at Eifion, took the proffered card and promised to ring him sometime.
 
 
Chapter 3
 
 
"That was wonderful," said Mary, huskily," I love you Steve"

I pulled my beloved wife closer, with my arm around her back, her head resting on my shoulder.

"I love you too Mary," I responded quietly.

We lay there for a while as we basked in our post-coital feelings of well being. As I softly caressed her back, Mary’s eyes slowly closed and within less than a minute her regular soft breathing indicated that she was asleep.

I carefully disentangled myself and then went to the bathroom to remove the sports bra and tight T shirt that were completely soaked with the milk that had leaked from my breasts during our lovemaking. Mary had insisted on me wearing these clothes as she had said she would find the feel of our breasts pressing together to be too foreign and strange to deal with.

As I stood in the shower, washing the residues of my own milk from my body I relived our first moments of intimacy for many months. The hormones had been doing their work too well and I had not been able to sustain an erection for many minutes but with the addition of my fingers and tongue I had succeeded in bringing Mary to a squealing, eager climax. I was pleased to be able to give her so much pleasure but disappointed in my inability to share the experience.

The jet of warm water on my breasts was caressing. My fingers lingered on my nipples and soon I was touching and squeezing myself to increase my excitement. I closed my eyes to focus on the pleasure I was getting from my arousal. An image coalesced in my mind. I could almost feel the touch of the object of my fantasy on my skin, lips pressing against mine, I strained to imagine Mary. The face of someone else appeared, Jonathan!

In shock I turned the temperature dial on the shower. The blast of cold water on my breasts was shocking and painful, to say the least, but effective in removing my strange, unwanted vision.

I quickly dried and put on a clean nursing bra and my pyjamas, which were a bit small in the bust department. I was forced to only button up a part of the pyjama top. I made my way back to the warm bed and snuggled next to my partner.

I slept very well, only being vaguely aware of Mary getting out of bed in the middle of the night to feed our baby from the bottle of milk I had expressed earlier.

I woke up with two pleasant sensations. The warmth of the sunlight, diffusing through the thin curtains on the bedroom window, on my face and the pleasure of a hand, inside my pyjamas, gently caressing my breast.

"Mmmmm, nice," murmured Mary.

I looked down at my sweet lover, her eyes closed. I wondered what sort of dream she was having and whom the object of her caresses was. To avoid waking her, and possibly causing her embarrassment about her unconscious fondling of me, I slowly moved her hand away and eased myself out of the bed.

Just over an hour later, having fed Bekka, washed, dressed, and had breakfast, I lent over Mary and kissed her gently on the forehead.

"Have a good day, my love," I whispered.

She half opened an eye.

"You too, Steve," she said, sleepily.

The morning traffic through North London was it's usual stop-start, dance of frustration. I was glad of the air conditioning in the car as another warm, summer day quickly developed.

"Morning Mr Jones, " said John cheerfully as I walked into the foyer.

"Morning John, lovely day again," I remarked.

"Yes, it promises to be a scorcher," he commented.

I was aware that he was still looking at me in a strange way as if to try and work out what was different about me. Although I felt more confident in my male persona with the new, larger office clothes, I was fairly sure that he had noticed me coming back from the pub, two days before with makeup on, despite Jules and Kathleen trying to distract him as I walked in.

"John," I said turning to look at the grey haired security guard, " I'm sure you've realised that there is something different about me since I came back to work"

"I had noticed Mr Jones," he responded, smiling," but whatever it is I'm sure you have a good reason for it"

"Yes, you're right," I said, " when I have some time one morning, if the traffic ever lets me arrive early, I'll tell you more"

The arrival of the lift brought our conversation to an end. I rushed to the nursery and made it to my desk just in time to answer my first phone call of the morning. The next two hours was the usual hectic mixture. Eventually the pace of phone calls, emails and faxes eased a bit and I was able to relax with a coffee. Jules had also reached a little lull in her work for the morning and came over for a chat.

"Are you excited?" she asked.

"A little bit, but I wonder what sort of person Mrs Forbes is going to be?" I pondered, thinking about the first appointment with someone who wanted a personalised, and very expensive, travel itinerary planned.

"Rich," said Jules, chuckling.

"That goes without saying, but there's different ways people handle unexpected wealth," I responded," it quite often seems to bring out the worst in someone's personality"

"When is she coming?" Jules asked.

"Damn, only thirty minutes, I'd better finish off her schedule, I'll see you in O'Learys," I said before turning back to my computer to put the finishing touches to the holiday of a lifetime that Mrs Forbes had requested.

An hour later the first client for Adventure Travel personalised travel service was glancing through the final printout of her plan for six months of world travel and accommodation in the best hotels.

"I am so looking forward to this," said the plump woman in her late fifties, " and my sister is really looking forward to coming with me, it's a shame that my husband isn't here, well it's his loss "

Mrs Forbes had already told me the sad tale of how her husband, dazzled by the six million she had won on the National Lottery, had gone on a spending spree and then run off with a younger woman from behind the bread counter in Asda, blowing half of her winnings in three months, before she could transfer them out of the joint account.

"Yes, it is indeed, Mrs Forbes," I replied diplomatically.

"So, what did you say it all came to," she asked.

"Three hundred and twenty three thousand pounds," I replied, thinking of my five percent commission, "but we only need a ten percent deposit"

"How much is that then?" my nouveau riche client asked, taking out her cheque book, " I was never much good at Maths in school"

"It's at the bottom, Mrs Forbes, thirty two thousand and three hundred," I replied, pointing to the figure on the full colour brochure I had produced for my client. I was really please with how the document had come out, with the pictures of all the destinations linked to the relevant travel details.

The vibrating noise from my jacket, on the back of my chair, distracted both of us.

"What's that?" Mrs Forbes asked.

"Oh, it's a message from the nursery, I have to go and feed my daughter, one moment I'll get my colleague to complete this transaction," I said as leaned back in my chair, turned my head and gestured for Jules to come over from where she was standing by the photocopier.

I turned back towards my client to introduce Jules to her. She was staring at me with her mouth wide open and a mixture of disgust and surprise evident in the expression on her face. I followed the direction of her stare to where my shirt was clinging to my slightly damp nursing bra, clearly displaying the shape of my breasts.

"You're not a man!" Mrs Forbes said accusingly.

"Well I am, but it's complicated," I said trying to explain, but without the time to do it properly as I took my jacket and prepared to answer the call from the nursery.

"I don't want to know," she said rising from her chair," but whatever it is, I don't want to have my holiday arranged by someone not normal"

"Please, Mrs Forbes, my colleague will explain," I said as I left the office, while Jules tried to mollify her.

I raced up to the nursery. Janis was holding Bekka and trying to pacify her while she waited for her feed.

I took my precious daughter and sat down to relax while she suckled. I hoped that Jules would be able to persuade our potential client to stay with us after all the hard work I had put in arranging her travel plans.

"Do you remember our conversation on Monday?" asked Janis as she walked in with a child to bottle feed.

"I think so," I replied.

"I did notice the make up, you know, when you came to feed Bekka in the afternoon," she stated, " are you going to tell me what's going on?"

"Listen Janis, Monday was just an accident, there is nothing going on apart from what I have already told you. I am a man and I have no desire to be a woman," I responded bluntly.

"It's hard to believe, when I see you breast feeding, that you're not going to stay like this," Janis commented.

"It's like this Janis," I said, beginning to feel annoyed at how things were going this morning," when I stop having to feed Bekka, when we can move her onto solids, my milk will dry up I'll be able to stop taking hormones. My doctor said that my breasts will shrink and after maybe a year, when this reduction has stabilised he has said I can have any surplus tissue that's left in my breasts, surgically removed"

I put emphasis on the word surgically and noticed Janis wincing a little.

"Now, tell me what person wanting to change sex from male to female would talk happily about having a mastectomy?" I asked a little triumphantly.

"Oh," she responded, clearly surprised at my certainty, "I didn't realise that you felt that way"

"I'm only doing this for my daughter, but all this looking like a woman has been a nightmare, it has led to so many complications," I explained further.

There was silence between us until it was time for me to leave and join Jules and Kathleen for lunch.

"I managed to persuade her, in the end," Jules was explaining, as we ate our lunches," it was lucky that her daughter had just given birth to Mrs Forbes's first grandchild so she was feeling very positive about babies. So I got her to write the cheque and sign the agreements"

"That's great," I responded," well done Jules, I worked hard for that signature. I'll have to cut you in on the commission"

"You're too generous," Jules responded," however there is one problem...well for you at least"

"What's that?" I asked.

"Susan turned up as I was explaining your situation to Mrs Forbes and she asked me afterwards what happened," Jules replied.

"What did she say," I asked.

"She was quite annoyed about almost losing our first client, she said that it mustn't happen again," said Jules.

"So how can we avoid that?" I asked, feeling confused.

"Sorry to have to tell you this, and she said that she would discuss it with you later, but basically you have two choices," explained Jules, before pausing.

"What are they?" I asked, a little fearful.

"You will either have to get the nursery to feed Bekka or..........you will have to come to work dressed as a woman!"
 
 
Chapter 4
 
 
"Good Morning Miss Jones," said John as I walked into work on a warm Monday morning.

"Good morning, John," I said, smiling as I stopped by the reception desk," thanks for remembering"

"I have your new pass," he said, handing me my new photo-ID, before smiling back and whispering," it's OK Miss Jones, I understand your reasons and you could hardly be a Mr Jones, dressed like that. I think what you are doing is very noble"

"Thanks, I appreciate the support, this is hard enough to do just coming here wearing these clothes," I responded, indicating my blouse, skirt, and two inch heels," I just hope everyone else will be just as understanding"

I clipped the piece of plastic on my breast pocket, thinking how strange it was not to have it on my tie, and carried Bekka over to the lift.

The doors of the lift were closing when a tall, very smartly dressed man in his early thirties squeezed into the lift.

"That was close," I said, smiling.

"Yes," he responded, smiling back," with luck I'll make my appointment in time."

"Which floor do you want?" I asked after pressing the number three for the nursery and noticing his visitor's pass.

"I'm not sure, I'm here to take over from Susan Williams, what floor is she on, do you know?" he asked.

I was taken aback by the news that that something had happened to Susan, my line manager.

"Um, her office is on floor three, the same as the nursery, has something happened to her, she didn't say anything on Friday?" I asked, a bit worried by the possible implications of the Susan's absence.

"I'm not completely sure, I had a phone call on Saturday from Sir John's secretary to say that Susan would be away for a couple of months and asking me to jump in to take charge. I'm William Tumbril, by the way," my new boss said extending a hand.

I reciprocated the gesture, the greeting lasted a little longer than I had expected and I was relieved when William did eventually release my hand.

"Nice to meet you, Stephanie," he said reading my name-tag while lingering on my breasts.

The lift came to a stop and we walked along the corridor together while William described, in excessive detail, the sort of work he was usually responsible for in the Birmingham office of Adventure Travels. The entrance to the nursery couldn't have come sooner as I escaped from the tedious talk, although he did extract a promise for me to call into his office later in the morning to discuss my work.

"Hello Janis," I said, cheerfully to the nursery nurse, when I reached the reception desk.

"Morning Ste.....," she said looking up and then her mouth stopped working as she stared at me.

"Something wrong?" I asked innocently.

"Sorry, Steve, oh sorry I see it's Stephanie now, I'm just a bit surprised to see you like that," she replied," especially after you denied everything last week."

"It's a complicated story, I'll explain later," I said," sorry I've got to go and catch up with the weekend backlog and then go and see Mr Charmless later"

"Who's that," asked, Janis as she took Bekka off me and placed her in a cot.

"Some guy down from Birmingham taking over from Susan for a while, did you know anything about that?" I asked.

"No, but then again no-one tells me much about how the company runs, I am only the nursery nurse," she said, sighing.

I left the nursery and, as quickly as possible in two inch heels and a tight skirt, made my way to my office. As usual the phone rang as I sat down at my desk and the computer showed the usual mixed bag of emails.

"No luck on the weekend then?" asked Jules as we drank our coffees almost two hours later after the pace of work had slowed down temporarily.

"I tried so hard to express enough milk, in the end Mary had to turn the machine off cos my boobs were hurting too much, my nipples are still sore today," I said as I gently touched my engorged breasts," I don't understand, I've got enough milk”

"Maybe you were too tense about it, but you could have dropped the personalised travel service for a couple of months, Kathleen or me could have covered that," Jules suggested.

"I don't understand it really, I'm so pissed off about the whole situation. So I had no choice but to wear this outfit today," I said, thinking about the ultimatum that Susan had given me," I need the commission, Jules"

"Why is that Steve? Sorry Stephanie, I'd better get used to calling you that, in case I make a slip up when a client is here," she commented.

"Simple really, Jules, our income is down 'cos Mary is only part-time at the moment and our payments are about to go up next month. Our two year mortgage fix finishes then, and we already have big arrears from when she was ill and off work" I explained.

"That is tough, can't you sell and get somewhere cheaper?" she asked.

"Nope, negative equity*, like everyone else in our street who bought in the last two years," I said.

The phone rang to end our conversation, the buzzing sound indicated an internal company call.

"Hello," I said, wondering who could be phoning internally, a rare occurrence.

"Hello again, Stephanie, nice to hear your voice again," oozed my new line manager.

"OK," I gulped, " what can I do for you?"

"Um, now that's an interesting question, maybe we can talk about that at some other time," he responded, creepily," but in the meantime I'd like you to come up and have a chat with me to explain how your side of the business runs"

"OK, when do you want to see me?" I asked, feeling uneasy about something.

"How about now, Stephanie, yes please hurry along to my office, I'll keep a seat warm for you," sleezeyman said before disconnecting.

I held the phone in my hand and made a rude sign to it.

"What's up Stephanie?" Jules asked.

"I feel like puking, Jules," I said," I have to go and see our new line manager and I'm not looking forward to it"

"New line manager!" she exclaimed," what's happened to Susan?"

I explained what I had been told by our new boss in the lift and then made my way to my meeting.

"Hello Stephanie, thank you for coming so promptly," Tumbril said as I opened the door to his office," come and join me on this sofa, I do find formal meetings sitting on opposite sides of a desk to be so tiresome"

I sat down on as far as possible away from him on the leather sofa. My attempt to preserve some personal space was thwarted as he moved over towards me a spread a large sheet of paper, with a network chart on it, out on the low table in front of us.

"I'd like you to help me fill this in so I have an idea of what people do and how they are interconnected." he said as he pressed his leg against mine.

"Of course, ask me anything you need to know," I responded.

Over the next quarter of an hour Tumbril asked me questions about Jules, Kathleen and me, although mainly about me, and filled in the chart with the information. At the same time he was obviously using the opportunity to touch me as much as possible. Every question was accentuated with a touch on my leg or shoulder and a few times he pressed his arm into my breasts as he leaned over to write something on the chart. I was at a loss to know how to deal with the harassment.

At last relief came with the sound of my pager to go and feed Bekka. I was grateful for the excuse to escape the unwanted physical contact, although once Janis launched into her questions about my suppression of my supposed transsexual gender identity the words 'frying pan', 'fire' and 'escape' came to mind.

Finally Janis was busy with the rest of her charges and I was alone for a while with my precious daughter. As she took her nourishment from me I once again concluded that anything was worthwhile doing to ensure her well-being.

"Thank, Miss Jones, we are really looking forward to these adventures," said Mr Parrish as he and his wife too his leave of me, later on in the afternoon, after we had agreed the final itinerary of their two hundred thousand pound round the world trip.

"It's been my pleasure to help you Mr and Mrs Parrish," I responded, smiling, having enjoyed working for the retired couple and also thinking of how the five percent commission would make a substantial dent in the debt Mary and I had with the bank.

I sat down, feeling tired after having worked through my lunch hour to complete the Parrish's holiday plans before it had been time to meet them. I had also had to work faster in the morning to solve all the weekend's problems, to ensure there were no interruptions during the afternoon.

I looked at the office clock and noticed that it was almost five, I began to pack my things away.

The phone rang, an internal call again, I picked up the hand-piece, expecting to hear an unwelcome voice.

"Miss Jones, I need to see you at once," said my line manager curtly.

"Yes, of course, Mr Tumbril, I'll be right there, is there something wrong," I asked, surprised at his tone of voice.

"I'd prefer to discuss this in person," he replied, before breaking the connection.

Ten minutes later I was sitting opposite him on the other side of his desk.

"I imagine this work is important to you?" he enquired," since you have gone to great lengths to keep your position"

"Yes, of course, it is important and I think I am effective in what I do," I replied, wondering where the conversation was going.

He paused and shuffled some papers on his desk.

"Earlier on Stephanie, I needed some more information about you to complete my network chart, so I checked personal records," he said.

I felt a churning in my stomach.

"You realise that your little arrangement with Susan is completely undocumented. Nowhere is there any legal or medical paperwork saying that you are a transsexual and are legally entitled to present as a woman," Tumbril continued.

"Yes but.." I began to try and explain.

He held up his hand to stop me.

"At present I have a situation where a male member of staff in Adventure Travel is coming to work wearing female clothes, no doubt using female toilet facilities and has somehow acquired a female company identification," he said,"
so what have we here, deception for the clothes, sexual harassment for using the wrong gender loo and the most serious, fraud in acquiring the false ID."

A felt a sinking feeling inside, as I feared where this conversation was going.

"The way I see it, Stephanie is that either I suspend you from work and maybe even call the police or....," he paused to stare at my face, before moving his hands off the desk.

I heard the noise of a zip being moved.

"You give me a blow-job"
 
 
Chapter 5
 
 
"I love sucking dick, William," I said as huskily as possible," why don't you show me what you've got"

My sleazy line manager, was initially nonplussed by my quick acquiescence to his ultimatum and then a vicious smirk filled his face.

"I knew you would see it my way, Stephanie," he said, " come and kneel here, little William is waiting for your mouth. Blouse and bra off too so I can grab a feel at the same time"

I unbuttoned my blouse halfway down with my left hand and slowly, as sexily as possible walked round the desk towards my predatory boss. I slid my right hand, surreptitiously, into my small shoulder bag.

I stood in front of Tumbril as he slowly massaged his penis. I unbuttoned my blouse a little more and moved it a little down off my shoulder, partially exposing my bra. I moved my left hand across my breasts, gently squeezing them.

"You are well endowed, William, so bigggggg, I'm looking forward to this," I said as erotically as I could.

By now his focus was completely on my boobs as I played with them to arouse him further.

"Nice, tits, bitch," he grunted.

I moved my right hand with my camera phone up to eye level, above what he was looking at, and starting taking pictures of my pathetic blackmailer.

"Smile for the camera," I said after I had taken more than twenty photos.

He looked up startled at my comment and I managed another ten shots before he realised his predicament and put his appendage away.

"What the fuck!" he exclaimed, as his brain sought to dampen his arousal and comprehend the changed reality.

"Not that either, you miserable worm," I said venomously, stepping away a safe distance," did you think I was going to give in to your nauseating needs, is this how you get your rocks off?"

He opened his mouth to talk but before he could utter anything I continued my attack.

"Unfortunately for your sick plan, you were wrong in all your assumptions," I yelled," firstly I am not a transsexual, I don't want to be a woman, I'm doing all of this for my daughter and my wife and soon enough I'll be rid of what you wanted to feel"

I paused for breath and to let the implications of my first statement sink in.

"Secondly I have a letter from Susan giving me express permission to dress this way, have a female ID and use the disabled toilets," I lied, knowing there was no way he could check.

"Thirdly," I said, in a more measured tone, as Tumbril's face crumbled with the realisation of his complete failure," what do you think will happen if you suspend me? Let me tell you. In three days, maximum, the whole European Adventure Travel programme will begin to fall apart. Most of the hoteliers and agents only trust me and will not give credit deals to anyone else. It'll be payment in advance for whoever takes my place. Of course the new very profitable, programme of bespoke holidays for the wealthy will stop immediately."

I could see that I had him, metaphorically, by the short and curlies.

"So you loathsome lothario, you'd better come up with the substantial pay increase that's going to stop me resigning tomorrow and taking my client base and contacts to one of our competitors, maybe even European Experiences," I said, referring to Adventure Travel's most fierce rival.

I turned and began to walk out of the office.

"Stephanie, wait, I'm sorry," pleaded the useless sexual exploiter.

"Oh yes, one last thing," I said , stopping and turning to face Tumbril, as an apparent afterthought, " I have already emailed all the pictures to a friend in Russia, aren't these 3G phones wonderful? So I wouldn't try anything nasty or you might find your profile picture on the company website has been mysteriously updated"

I strode out of the office to fetch Bekka and escape the building.

I just managed to strap my precious daughter in her car seat before I had to turn away and retch violently on the floor of the car park. I took out a tissue and cleaned myself as much as possible, before I got in the car and sped away. Even though I was still feeling nauseous I was desperate to get away from Adventure Travel, before the miserable molester appeared in the foyer.

Somehow or other I negotiated the journey back to my family refuge without any further mishap, even though on a number of occasions I felt a violent shiver through my body as I went over the events of the previous hour. The thought of how close I had come to being forced into an act of utter servility to Tumbril was beginning to fill me with a sense of my own worthlessness.

The bravado I had shown, in turning his threats back on him, had dissipated and I was being to have many doubts about the wisdom of my actions. Even though I knew as Steve I could easily get another job, I wasn't at all confident that as Stephanie or even as breast feeding Steve I would be so successful.

Almost three quarters of an hour later I pulled up outside my house. I put my head on the wheel, feeling utterly exhausted.

I heard a gentle tap on the car window. I looked up to see Mary, looking anxiously at me.

"Are you OK?" she asked, after I had wound the window down," I heard the car parking but you've been sat here for ten minutes. What's happened?"

"Sorry, Mary, had a bit of a nightmare day," I replied.

She leaned and kissed me gently.

"Don't worry darling, you're home now," she said.

"I'm so glad to be here, now, I didn't think I'd make it" I responded.

"Have you been sick?" Mary asked, noticing a few spots on my blouse.

"Yes," I responded, feeling subdued.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Steve, don't worry it shouldn't stain that colour. You go on in and shower and I'll bring in Bekka and your stuff," Mary directed.

The feel of the jets of warm water on my body was so relaxing, as I stood in the shower ten minutes later. I rubbed some shampoo into my hair to wash the city grime out. As the lather slid down into the shower tray it felt like I was washing some of the horrible experiences in Tumbril's office away at the same time.

I felt a soft hand on my back.

"Do you want someone to scrub your back?" asked my lover.

"Yes please," I said turning and smiling at Mary who was standing, naked, in the bathroom. I took her hand and gently pulled her into my embrace. She kissed me urgently and started caressing me. I soon returned the favour.

There is something uniquely sensuous about showering with someone, especially if you love that person. Soon the steam on the curtain was not just coming from the hot water.

Mary pushed me back and down a little as she prepared to mount me.

"Do you want me to go and get the sports bra and T-shirt on," I whispered as I moved my hand slowly over her neck and shoulders.

"No, I can think I can deal with your boobs this once, let's not lose this moment, before Bekka wakes up," she replied before taking my penis, slipping a condom on and lowering herself onto me. Her taking the lead was the arrangement we had discovered, the previous week, to be the best for me to maintain an erection.

An hour later, our passions sated, we sat down in the lounge after a sumptuous meal of Aloo Gobi, Basmati Rice, Paratha and a glass of Chardonnay.

I looked down at Bekka, taking her evening nourishment.

"You know something, Mary," I said, after I had related the events of the way to her,

"What's that my love?" she asked, quietly.

"I just want this having to pretend to be a woman to stop, it just creates so many problems," I replied.

"Oh dear I'm sorry, it may not be that simple," Mary said, a little sadly.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Well you know I went to the hospital for my monthly appointment, today," she explained.

"Yes, I remember, now, sorry I didn't ask earlier. How was the check up, did you get the results?" I asked.

"Everything's fine," Mary responded, " the blood tests showed that the HIV viral load is very low and the cancer is still in remission, but there is a problem"

"A problem?" I asked, fearing something new to threaten our futures.

"They said that they were so surprised that they did the test twice," she responded.

"What was the test?" I asked.

"They were checking my hormone levels," Mary replied.

"What does that mean, what's the matter, are you OK, you're not feeling ill again?" I asked, anxiously.

"No. I'm not ill, but it's going to be a big problem, I'm so sorry Steve, I'm pregnant." said Mary.
 
 
Chapter 6
 
 
My sound of heels on the marble floor echoed around the foyer of Adventure Travel as I walked in carrying Bekka in her car chair.

Two heads turned towards me, as I walked towards the reception in my still unfamiliar female work outfit. I smiled at John, the security guard/receptionist sitting behind the counter. I turned to greet the other person in the foyer and froze in my tracks.

There, standing by the lift was Mr Tumbril, the molesting manager from the previous day. He gave me the vilest of stares before stepping into his lift. I felt myself shaking with a mixture of apprehension, fear and tiredness. I considered whether I should go home.

"Something wrong, Miss Jones?" asked John.

"Sorry, John, what did you say?" I asked, lost in my reverie.

"I asked if you felt alright, you've been lost to the world for the last half a minute or so," he said.

"I'm sorry, John, I'm very tired, I slept very badly last night and yesterday I had an unfortunate encounter with my new line manager." I explained. I had indeed slept little after Mary's revelation. I had lain awake for hours reliving the incident with Tumbril and bemoaning how one slightly split condom could have turned our lives upside down again.

"That Tumbril seems a bad sort in my opinion, Miss Jones," said John," it's so sad that Mrs Williams had to fly to Australia after her daughter had that accident on the weekend"

I digested the new information about my previous line manager and then after bidding a good day to John, I made my way to drop my daughter off for the day.

"Morning Stephanie," said Janis, smiling at me, as I entered the nursery.

"Hello Janis," I said, in a subdued tone, while handing over Bekka.

"Something wrong?" she asked, as she placed Bekka in the play pen and finished her coffee.

"Had a bad night and a worse day yesterday," I replied.

"Oh, I'm sorry" Janis said," anything you can tell me?"

"It's just that Mary's pregnant and I don't know how we will manage," I replied," and another thing, a word of warning Janis"

"What's that?" she asked.

"Don't ever be in a room with Tumbril, you know my new line manager, on your own," I advised.

"Why?" Janis asked.

"Just say that he is a predator, so don't risk it, sorry can't tell you more, got to rush to the office," I replied.

Janis gave me a strange look and then returned to busying herself with her morning schedule as I made my way to my office.

As usual the phone was ringing as I reached my desk barely seconds after the official start time for the beginning of the working day. I picked up the handset and was immediately placed on the defensive by an angry French hotelier complaining about the late arrival of the previous day's coach party causing him to have to pay extra for staff to work overtime. I was halfway through haggling the amount of the compensation cheque when I noticed the envelope on top of my keyboard addressed to 'Mr Steven Jones'. I stopped talking and Monsieur de Villepin was surprised at the sudden silence.

"ess everything ok, Steven?" he asked in heavily accented English.

"Not sure, Jean," I replied, before regaining my senses, and turning back to French to agree immediate full settlement of the claim. Monsieur de Villepin thanked me and bade me 'adieu', although he sounded a little disappointed that the argument, he had clearly been enjoying, had come to a premature end.

I picked up the envelope and, ignoring a second phone call, opened it with my paper knife.

A single sheet of plain paper fell out. I unfolded it and read it.

"You freak

Did you think I wouldn't check about the letter.

After yesterday I feel like going straight to the police. Would you like it in prison, you nonce? I bet they'd love your tranny arse.

One chance left, ladyboy. Same place at 5, bring some lube in case I want to take our relationship deeper..."

I dropped the letter and rushed to the loo to be violently sick. I cleaned myself off and then sat down on the toilet seat, feeling emotionally exhausted. It seemed like my carefully reconstructed world was rapidly falling to pieces. There seemed to no alternative so I put my head in my hands and let the tears flow.

"Are you OK, Stephanie," asked Jules, some quarter of an hour later, "I saw you rush off to the loo and wondered why you hadn't come back"

I looked up at her, she looked visibly shocked by my appearance.

"Oh, Stephanie you look terrible, what's up?" she asked sounding very concerned.

"I had a letter....it's on my desk...let me show you," I said through my sniffles as I tried to regain a semblance of self control.

Jules and Kathleen read the letter and then with obvious mounting anger listened to my account of the events of the day before.

"The bastard!" exclaimed Jules.

"I wish I had a surgical knife!" said Kathleen angrily.

"Stephanie we must go to the police," said Jules.

"But, there is no real evidence here," I said," it's his word against mine"

"I still think we should call the police, let me look up Islington Police station." said Jules.

An hour later I was sitting in the feeding room in the nursery giving Bekka her morning nourishment.

"Well, I must say that is a fascinating story, Steven, what you are doing for your daughter is remarkable" said Inspector Janet Smith, after I had finished explaining everything to her," although I doubt that we have enough evidence for a successful prosecution case against Mr Tumbril"

"I didn't think so, either, Janet, but my work colleagues insisted I contact you about this," I said, as I cuddled my daughter close to me.

"Let me take the letter away, Steven, maybe there is something on it, some prints or some DNA," she said as she stood to leave," but if there are any other incidents, particularly if there are witnesses, then please contact me asap"

Lunchtime in O'Learys was the usual hectic rush to grab some food. I related the conversation with the police inspector to Jules and Kathleen. After a few minutes of thought, Jules suddenly smiled.

"I have an idea about the witnesses," she said and proceeded to outline her plan.

"It sounds a bit risky to me," I said.

"It's a way of getting rid of him once and for all," reassured Jules," just think you'd be ridding the company of something dark and evil"

"Don't worry," said Kathleen," there's nothing that can go wrong, we'll stop anything horrible happening"

"OK," I said, determinedly," I'll do it!"

The rest of afternoon sped past as I tried not to think about the impending meeting. It was difficult to focus properly and as a result I failed for the first time to persuade the afternoon's client to accept their itinerary for their world cruise. However all was not lost as they agreed to come for another discussion.

It was just after five when I knocked on the door of my line manager.

"Well, Miss Jones, I’m glad to see that you have come to your senses," oozed Tumbril, as he opened the door to let me in.

I quickly walked past him and stood in the opposite part of the room.

"Well time is short, Stephanie so if you'd just strip off, as sexily as you can, and I'll do what I want to do," he directed.

"I don't think so," I responded, firmly," I'm not letting your filthy hands touch me. I've just come to persuade you to stop this stupidity"

"Um, I think you may have misunderstood the situation you're in, you tranny freak," said the predator with a harsh tone in his voice, " you see some of my punts on property have been a little disappointing and I am being forced to relocate tonight. In fact in four hours time I will be winging my way to Russia, where they seem to reward their risk takers rather better, especially those who like taking risks with other people's money"

"Well in that case, I think there is no need for any further discussions between us," I said, with a confidence that I didn't feel, but hopeful that Jules and Kathleen would arrive soon as witnesses and moral support.

"I hate losing, and I don't to intend to with you," he responded, before turning to the door and double locking it. He started walking towards me, menacingly.

I gulped with fear. Having to force entry through a double locked, four inch thick, solid oak door had not been a part of the plan for my rescue.
 
 
Chapter 7
 
 
I stared at Tumbril and then back at the locked door while I tried to think of a way to escape my desperate predicament.

"I don’t have time for messing round, if I have to hold you down to fuck you I’ll do it, you pervert. You can’t fight me, I’m a foot taller and must be almost twice your weight," sneered Tumbril.

I gulped at his direct threat and backed away. I had no intention of letting the brute assault me, but I was at a loss in thinking of a possible way out.

I reached in my bag for a possible weapon and felt something hard and cylindrical.

I continued retreating from him but then stopped, there would be no chance of escape if I let him force me into a corner.

“OK, OK, I can see now that my options are limited,” I said as I started unbuttoning my blouse.

My potential rapist stopped moving towards me, and a big smirk spread across his face.

“You learn fast”

“Yes, I do,” I replied, smiling sweetly at him.

“OK, my time is short, so get everything off and lean forward against the chair, I like to get a couple of handfuls when I do a whore,” Tumbril commanded, making groping movements with his hands, “ on second thoughts, you can leave your panties on, I don’t want to see your dick”

I dropped my blouse on the floor and then shimmied out of my tight skirt.

“There is a problem, though” I said.

“Yes,” my molester grunted as he took his shirt off.

“I haven’t got any lube, what about if I give you the blow-job instead?” I asked, in as breathy a voice as possible, running my hand suggestively over my bra and breasts to arouse him.

He paused for a few seconds to consider my request then resumed taking his clothes off.

“You’d better do me good, queer, otherwise, lube or no lube I’m going to stuff that tight arse of yours,” he replied maliciously, “now get that bra off and give me an eyeful of your tits”

“Get an eyeful of this instead, you bastard!” I screamed as I sprayed the deodorant, from my bag, directly into his eyes

His scream of pain at the intense stinging was heightened when I accurately kicked his testicles, as hard as I could, with the point of my shoes.

I flicked off my heels and legged it for the door. I quickly unlatched the Yale lock but the ancient bolt was very stiff. I cursed Susan’s predecessor as area manager, who had installed the four inch thick medieval door when it was discarded from a film set, as I tried to wriggle it free. My heart beat was going through the roof as I struggled to open the door.

“You bitch!” shouted Tumbril,” you’ll pay for that”

I glanced round to see that he had got to his feet and, with one hand rubbing his eyes and the other holding his groin area, was lumbering towards me.

Suddenly with one last desperate wrench I managed to pull the bolt back. I pulled the handle of the door, it opened agonisingly slowly, because of the door restrainer. In a few seconds the gap was large enough for me to try and slip through. I stepped out into the corridor.

The powerful wrench on my arm, as I was pulled back into the room by Tumbril, almost pulled it out of it's socket. I was slammed against the wall, I felt pain all over my back as I impacted. My bra was ripped off and my breasts were groped very painfully. I felt his thick fingers take an iron grip on my throat as he began to squeeze the life out of me.

"I should kill you for that!" he screamed in my face. I was quickly losing consciousness as my brain screamed for the oxygen that it was being deprived of. As everything around me began to go hazy an image of Bekka gurgling with happiness as I tickled her toes a few days previously filled my mind. I smiled at the sweet memory.

"I'll wipe that smile off your face, you nonce!" Tumbril shouted as I was flung onto the floor. I gasped for breath and was like a limp rag-doll as he knelt behind me, pushed my knees forward to raise my backside and pulled my panties down. I felt his penis probing for the entry through my anus. He reached forward to grasp my breasts as he prepared to violently thrust into me.

"Not so fast Tumbril!" shouted John as suddenly the weight of Tumbril, on top of me, disappeared.

I turned my head to see John, Jules and Kathleen wrestling Tumbril to the ground. Although he was stronger than each of them individually, he was no match for their combined efforts and soon he was face down on the carpet with my rescuers sitting on top of him.

"Don't be stupid, get off me, I was only giving your freaky friend what he wanted," shouted Tumbril.

"Keep your pathetic explanations for the police, they should be here soon enough," said Jules, angrily.

"Now, come on, it was only a bit of fun," responded Tumbril, changing his tone dramatically at the reference to the forces of law and order, " there's no need for the police to be involved, listen I'm sorry if I was a bit rough with Stephanie, I got a little carried away"

"You are a sick man and lacking in brain cells if you think we are going to let you get away with attempted rape," shouted Kathleen.

"Now then, I'm sure that we could come to some sort of arrangement, I've got a million pounds in my suitcase, what about if you take that and just let me get up and go. I promise you'll never see me again," the molesting manager pleaded.

"I don't think so, " said John," if you've got that much money you must have stolen it. You can help the police give it back to your victims"

"You don't understand what you're doing, listen if that's not enough I've got more in my bank account, you can have it all, just let me go, please," begged Tumbril, "you can't let the Italians get me"

"And what Italians would that be, Mr Tumbril or should I say Mr Johnson or even Mr Throuton," asked Inspector Janet Smith as she strode into the room, accompanied by two large male constables, " are you a little worried that the Sicilian Cosa Nostra might not be happy with the way their investments failed"

The policemen quickly restrained the thieving thug while the Inspector recited his rights.

"Mr William Tumbril, alias Mr Peter Johnson, alias Mr Hector Throuton, I am arresting you for assault, attempted rape and embezzlement," she began, " you do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something that you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence"

Tumbril said nothing and he was led away by the two police officers. In the meantime Jules had retrieved my blouse and skirt and was helping me dress.

"It's likely that there will be further charges," said Janet to us," we have a probable match of his DNA, from the gum on the envelope, with three rapes in the West Midlands. I'm sorry we couldn't get here earlier, how was it Steve?" she asked.

"It was bad, Janet, I thought he was going to kill me," I replied, quietly, "and then if Jules and the others hadn't arrived in time he would have........"

I couldn't say anything else and just sat down in a chair and began sobbing as the enormity of what might have happened began to sink in. I shivered as I suddenly felt very cold. Everything went a little blurred. The next thing I knew I had John's coat around my shoulder and was sipping a cup of hot chocolate.

I felt Jules's arm around my shoulder.

"I'm sorry you had to go through all that," she said, "but you're safe now and he's locked away where he won't be able to attack anyone else in the future"

"Yes," I said quietly.

"Come on Steve, we'd better get you home now," Jules stated.

At that Janet left, promising that she would be around to my house later to take a statement and that she would arrange a visit from a rape counsellor. We bade farewell to John after I had thanked him for his help and then Jules helped me down to my car while Kathleen fetched Bekka from the nursery, after Jules had spoken to Janis to explain the situation and I had briefly confirmed everything.

We drove home mostly in silence as I still felt too numb to want to interact and Jules eventually gave up making any small talk when I didn't respond. Kathleen followed us in her car, planning to take Jules back to Adventure Travel to fetch her car, after we had reached my house.

I walked into my domestic haven, feeling relieved to be home. I told Jules to leave my stuff in the hall, while I put Bekka in her playpen and started up one of her nursery rhyme toys. Jules then left to get a lift with Kathleen to fetch her car, promising to return as soon as possible. I was surprised by the quiet of the house and I looked around for Mary.

I noticed she was sitting at the kitchen table staring at a piece of official looking paper. She had obviously been crying. She didn’t say anything when I walked in.

“What is it?” I asked, wondering what could possibly be the matter.

She held up the piece of paper to me.

“Read it” she directed in a strange tone.

Dear Mr Jones,

In view of your failure to respond to the repeated warnings you have received, about your inappropriate dress and conduct while on the premises of Adventure Travel, I have no alternative but to terminate your contract of employment with immediate effect.

Yours faithfully,

Brian Salter
Regional Manager
Adventure Travel.
 
 
Chapter 8
 
 
"This is an unusual situation, Steve, or maybe Stephanie would be more appropriate. It's hard to see an attractive woman sitting in front of me and use a male name," said Jeffrey Withers, the deputy MD of European Experiences, after I had explained some of the background to my search for a new job.

"Yes, unusual is an apt description, maybe even unique and Stephanie is fine by me" I responded, smiling, as I sat back in the thick leather chair wearing the black, Jaeger, skirt suit, that Mary had insisted on me wearing for the interview.

"Well Stephanie all I can say is that Adventure Travel' loss could be European Experiences gain, your reputation precedes you," stated Jeffrey.

"You are too kind," I said, pleasantly surprised at the positive response I had received so far. At last it seemed that my life had taken a turn for the better.

"Yes, indeed, the number of times you have put together exciting holiday packages, for Adventure Travel, that have made whatever we have offered, in the same market, to seem second rate," he said, smiling, "I have found it galling, so I was very pleased to see you today"

It had been a difficult decision to contact the main competitor to my former company to see if they had any vacancies. The deciding factor had been the insulting final salary cheque that had arrived the day after the assault. None of the expected bonuses had been included. I had tried all that day to contact Brian Salter, the regional manager, but he had been unavailable, at least to me.

"I really like the concept of individually tailored holidays at a premium price. Can you tell me more about that?" Jeffrey asked.

I outlined some of the travel plans we had designed for wealthy individuals. The young deputy MD smiled and nodded his enthusiasm, especially at the profits that had been made so far.

"That sounds splendid, I wonder if you can bear with me while I fetch Alex to hear about this idea," said Jeffrey before he rose and went in search of his boss.

Alone in the sumptuous office, evidence of the success of European Experiences despite being smaller than my former employers, I considered the events of the last three days. I had made my statement to Inspector Smith later on in the evening of the attack and she and Jules had managed to persuade Mary that there could not be anything to the allegations of misconduct that had led to my dismissal.

Jeffrey returned with a tall, impressive looking man in his early fifties.

"Stephanie, this is Alex Price, the Managing Director of European Experiences," said Jeffrey," Alex let me introduce Stephanie Jones, who has been working on an exciting scheme at Adventure Travel"

"Delighted to meet you, Stephanie," said Alex, in an attractive, friendly voice as he extended his hand.

"I'm pleased to meet you too, Mr Price, I've heard so much about you," I responded, shaking his hand.

"Nothing bad, I hope," Alex said, with a twinkle in his eye, "now please tell me more of this programme that Jeffrey was so keen for me to hear about"

I smiled and then gave him a similar outline to the one I had already given Jeffrey. Alex listened and then asked a few probing questions about the operation and how it might work for his company. After about half an hour of intense discussion he sat back in his chair and smiled at me.

"Well, Stephanie, I like this idea a lot so the only question remaining is when can you start implementing it for European Experiences?" he asked.

"Are you offering me a job, Mr Price?" I asked a little uncertainly, being surprised at the suddenness of the offer.

"Most definitely," he replied.

"In that case I can start Monday," I said.

"That is very good news," Alex said, then he stood and shook my hand again," I'll leave you with Jeffrey to sort out the details and look forward to seeing you on Monday"

I sat back and took a deep breath.

"Are you OK?" asked Jeffrey.

"I'm fine, just taken aback with the speed of events, I thought that it would take days or even weeks to find out whether you would have a position for me" I replied.

"It looks like you made a good impression on Alex," said Jeffrey, smiling," he is always decisive about decisions like that, if he likes a person or an idea then he will trust his judgement all the way. In your case I think he liked both"

"That's good to hear," I said.

"One thing, though, I didn't tell Alex about your other gender presentation," he stated.

"Will that be a problem," I asked, a little concerned that what sounded like a dream job would fail at the first obstacle.

"No, it isn't going to be a problem, whatever way you choose to present yourself here will be acceptable. I am in charge of equality policy after all," he explained.

"That's good," I said, feeling relieved.

"However may be a difficulty in replicating the arrangement you had in Adventure Travel," Jeffrey began, " as you are aware we are quite a bit smaller and therefore everyone gets to know everyone else. You wouldn't be working in a small separate unit. So if we had a male employee breast feeding a baby, it would become common knowledge before you could say Chinese whispers"

"Yes I can see that problem," I responded, wondering where this discussion was going.

"As well as that, being in London, with thousands of journalists and paparazzi looking for the next tabloid splash, well I'm sure you can imagine the rest," Jeffrey stated.

"OK, I can see that viewpoint, but what are you actually saying?" I asked.

"Stephanie, the way I see it, there are two scenarios that avoid damaging publicity to the company," Jeffrey explained, " the first you are employed as Steve and do not breast feed your daughter or any other future children, although of course you are welcome to utilise our workplace nursery. The second option is that you are employed as Stephanie and then breast feeding or not is not an issue"

"I see," I commented, already thinking about the implications for Bekka.

"Of course, as Steve we could employ you on a significantly higher salary because of your contacts although even as Stephanie we would make you a not unattractive offer," he said.

"There is a lot to think about here, Jeffrey, there are implications for my family life that are very serious," I said, carefully.

"OK, Stephanie, why don't you go and think about these offers. Ideally I'd love you to start on Monday, but if you'd like to have a little time to discuss it with your partner, let's say a week, then that's fine with me," said Jeffrey.

I took that as a signal for the interview coming to a close but, before I left, I asked him for a rough figure of the salaries as either Steve or Stephanie. On the drive home, through the usual slowly moving London traffic, I considered the financial situation that Mary and myself were in. Without the expected bonuses from my success at Adventure Travel we would be facing increasing mortgage arrears. If I was working as Steve, we might just about manage and with luck we might be able to wean Bekka very soon.

My precious daughter smiled at me as I walked into the house, some twenty minutes later. She was sat on Mary's lap listening to my wife's singing a simple nursery rhyme in her beautiful voice.

"That's excellent timing," said Mary," I was just about to feed her, but I'm sure she’d prefer fresh rather than refrigerated"

"Yep, that's me, it's always fresh and ready with Daddy's boobs," I responded, laughing and then picked up Bekka and quickly put her to my breast. She suckled greedily.

"How did it go?" Mary asked.

"I got a job, " I replied," but.."

Mary's hoot of joy was cut off by the 'but' and she looked concerned as I explained the details of the offer.

"Oh dear, that is a problem," she said, after I had finished," what can we do?"

"I don't know, sweetie, we'll have to think about it, maybe if the union is successful things will be OK," I said referring to my trade union attempting to get a quick settlement from Adventure Travel for the unfair dismissal.

"Oh, sorry, Sheila from the Unite office phoned and ask that you contact her urgently," Mary said.

She dialled the number for me and soon I was talking to Sheila Ellis at the Unite office in London. She outlined the response from Adventure Travel. I put the phone down feeling downcast.

"What's wrong?" asked Mary, as she saw my expression after the phone call.

"She said that Adventure Travel would fight the unfair dismissal claim all the way, they say that the documentation they have is water tight." I replied.

"But surely now that Tumbril is arrested and charged they can discount all his allegations?" Mary wondered.

"Yes, but he is not convicted and anyway the company can and will use the impending trial to delay the tribunal," I responded.

"But that could be months," Mary said.

"Yes, that's what Sheila said, it could be as long as a year before there is a tribunal decision," I explained.

"What can we do, how can we manage until then?" Mary asked.

"Mary, there is only one solution," I said quietly.

"What's that?" she asked

"I'll have to take the job as Steve and....," I said.

"and what, Steve?" Mary asked, a look of apprehension in her face as if she was expecting what I knew I had to say.

"You'll have to get an abortion, Mary," I said, turning my face away as I said it so as not to see the hurt in her face.
 
 
Chapter 9
 
 
“No, Steve, I'm not having an abortion,” said Mary fiercely, as we sat at the table on Saturday morning having our breakfast,” it's my body and I'll make the decision and I've made my mind up!”

I looked at her tired face and I wondered if she had slept as little as I had. We had argued for many hours about how we resolve the impossible financial situation we were in. Eventually she had gone to sleep in the spare bedroom while I had kept Bekka company.

It had been a long night, tossing and turning in bed while trying to find another solution to the only one that seemed to make sense. Having to feed our daughter in the middle of the night had been a welcome escape from my mental turmoil.

“Mary, you're not being rational,” I said as calmly as I could,” what other options do we which don't involve losing our home?”

“No, you're right Steve, I'm not being rational,” she responded,” I'm being emotional, that's what woman do and my heart is telling me I'm making the right decision”

Our continued argument was interrupted by our precious daughter wanting some attention. I got up and made my way to the bedroom. Bekka was lying on her back with a look on her face that was a mixture of surprise, at the new perspective from rolling over onto her back, and contentment, after finally achieving her goal.

“Who's a clever girl then,” I said, happily, feeling pleased at this little step taken on Bekka's development. I called Mary to come and share the moment. We stood next to the playpen, holding hands, the previous disagreement put aside for a while. Our daughter smiled up at us, another recent addition to her skills and something we were so happy to see.

“Don't you think little Bekka deserves a brother or sister?” Mary asked after a few minutes, “ I used to hate being an only child.”

“Yes, that would be lovely, but I just don't think it's possible at the moment,” I replied, “ maybe in a year or so.”

“But I might not be strong enough then,” said Mary.

I turned and took her in my arms, kissing her softly on her cheek.

“You're always be strong, my sweet,” I reassured.

“But, Steve, what if the cancer comes back?” she asked, sobbing a little on my shoulder,” I can't be pregnant then”

I considered what Mary was saying as I gently stroked her soft hair.

The door bell rang, Bekka, startled at the sound, began to whimper. I looked at the clock in surprise at such an early call.

“Sugar, it's nine already, that must be Jules,” I said, as I picked up our little bundle of joy,” I forgot she was coming around this morning with my stuff”

“I'll let her in, you get on with Bekka,” Mary said.

I busied myself with changing my daughter while Mary let Jules into the house. I heard their voices in the kitchen as I prepared to give Bekka a morning feed. I sat in the armchair and put her to my left breast.

“Hi Steve,” said Jules as she walked into the lounge carrying two cups of tea.

“Hi, yourself, thanks,” I responded, as I took the proffered beverage.

“Hey, matching nighties,” joked Jules, changing her gaze from me to Jules and then back again

“Saves on shopping,” explained Mary,” and it's easier for Steve to breast feed”

“Well you both look very cute in them,” said Jules, between sips of tea.

“So how is everyone at work?” I asked.

"Going downhill fast, I would say," Jules replied," we seem to losing about ten contracts a day. Agents, resort managers, hoteliers and all sorts of other people are phoning all the time. They nearly all have the same two questions."

"What are those?" I asked.

"The first one is why did Tumbril get arrested and the second one is 'where is Steve?'." Jules replied.

"Nice to know you're missed then, Steve," said Mary, smiling.

"Oh, I forgot to mention, there's an article in today's Guardian," interjected Jules before handing over her copy, open to the main business pages. She pointed out the small article in the bottom right of the page.

Sunset for Adventure Travel?

There is still mystery surrounding the arrest earlier this week of the London area manager of Adventure Travel, William Tumbril, who yesterday was remanded in custody on charges of rape, assault and embezzlement. It is unclear whether these charges are related to his place of work or to some other location. There are also rumours that some senior staff have resigned in protest at the sacking of another staff member.

In a brief statement, Brian Salter, the regional manager, stated:-

"Adventure Travel is undergoing an employment restructuring programme and a few individuals have been moved on in their careers. We remain on course for record profits this year"

"Senior staff resigned?" I asked, after I had put the paper down and moved Bekka to my other breast.

"Yes, Kathleen and me," Jules replied.

"Why's that?" Mary asked.

"The last couple of days the atmosphere was so bad, especially with the Mr 'Fixit', they sent in to try and clean up the mess. He was almost camped in our office watching everything we did, especially after the first cancellations. I think he was worried that we were trying to sabotage the company," Jules explained, laughing, "little did he know"

"Why's that?" I asked.

Jules put her in hand in her shoulder bag and took out a pink memory stick.

"Voila! Your guarantee of future employment," she said, triumphantly.

"How come?" I asked.

"It's got the details of all your contacts and also all the people who were interested in the bespoke holiday service, past and potential customers," she explained.

"Wow, you are a genius, Jules," I said with appreciation of her company espionage skills.

"Aren't I just," she said, preening herself," me and Kath did the same as well"

I laughed.

"How much longer do you have to work there till the end of your notice period?" I asked, after a few minutes.

Jules told us that she and Kathleen had been escorted out of the building as soon as their letters of resignation were received, Friday afternoon, and were both on a month's 'gardening leave'. Neither of them were bothered as with their experience, language skills and their list of contacts they both expected to pick up work very quickly.

I finished feeding Bekka just as the phone rang, Mary answered it.

"Steve do you want to go for a picnic in Ally Pally*?" she asked.

"Sure, why not, it's a lovely day," I replied, looking out of the window to see the bright summer sun beating down," who with?"

"It's John and Elizabeth from work, they mentioned the idea yesterday, I forgot to tell you," she answered.

"What about you Jules?" asked Mary," are you busy today, want to join us?"

"Well OK, as long as you don't think I'll be in the way, you know with two couples, I'll feel like the odd woman," responded Jules.

"Maybe not," said Mary, smiling at me.

I caught her gaze and wondered where this was leading.

"Why don't I want to ask you by that remark, Mary," I said.

"Um, sort of sorry Steve, but John saw us in the shopping centre last week and I had to explain you were my sister," she said coyly.

"The return of Stephanie to the world!" announced Jules.

I shrugged my shoulders and went to find some suitable female clothes.

Two hours later we were walking along a tree lined path in the grounds of the park. The shade was a respite from the heat of the late morning sun. We had earlier met the young couple from Mary's work and I had had to endure some polite questioning about the whereabouts of my husband, while Jules and Mary struggled to keep straight faces.

"Hey everyone, what about this spot for the picnic?" asked Mary when we had reached a shaded, piece of open grass next to the lake.

Everyone agreed with Mary's choice. We put a blanket down and I lay down with Bekka, tickling her and letting her grasp my fingers, singing a nursery rhyme and doing the actions.

Hickory Dickory Dock
The mouse ran up the clock
The clock struck one
The mouse ran down
Hickory Dickory Dock

The other three went off to get some tea while Mary laid out the food.

"This is lovely here, don't you think?" she asked after the picnic was ready.

"Yes, one of those moments when you feel that you are at peace with the world. If only life could more often be picnics in the park with your family," I remarked.

"Especially if there is more than one child?" suggested Mary.

I smiled at her comment.

"I think that the memory stick could change things you know," I said quietly.

"What do you mean?" asked Mary, hopefully.

"It means that there is good chance a generating quite a bit of business, quickly for European Experiences and if so then maybe earning enough money to make things work," I explained.

"Are you saying what I think you're saying," Mary asked.

"Yes, I am, my sweet, I'll phone Jeffrey when we get back to tell him that I will start work as Stephanie on Monday and lets make sure that Bekka will have a little brother or sister in nine months time," I said, smiling at Mary.

Mary reached over and kissed me, pouring her feelings of joy and happiness into our embrace. After the nightmare of the previous week it was wonderful to feel normal again.

*Alexandra Park in North London.
 
 
Chapter 10
 
 
"Hello, I'm Stephanie, I was told to bring my baby here," I said to the harassed young woman, who was trying to pull two three year old boys off each other, as I walked into the long room, decorated with children's drawings and simple educational posters, that was European Experiences's crá¨che.

"Sorry, a bit busy here," she replied, "Simone will sort you out"

"Oh, OK, thanks Theresa" I said, after reading the name-tag of the nursery nurse, who by now had succeeded in separating the two boisterous toddlers and was leading them away to engage in more constructive play.

"Simone!!," she yelled in the direction of the toilets where a procession of little children were walking out rearranging their clothes as best they could.

"What is it?" yelled the invisible Simone, obviously busy in encouraging appropriate toileting behaviour.

"There's a woman, with a baby here, says she was told to bring him here," replied Theresa.

"Damn, not another baby!" cursed Simone," OK tell her I'll be right there"

"Did you get that, Susan, no it wasn't Susan, sorry what did you say your name was?" asked Theresa, who had succeeded in seating her two energetic charges at the little table with the toy garage.

"It's Stephanie," I replied, dismayed at my first impression of childcare provision at my new workplace. This wasn't the start that I had hoped for on my first day presenting myself as a woman to a whole group of strangers.

As I had driven my way through the usual London gridlock to Camden Town I had felt increasingly apprehensive. It was one thing to wear female clothes, however convincingly, with a group of friends who knew the truth. It was a much greater challenge to spend the day worrying that any wrong response to a simple question might raise doubts about my apparent gender.

"Yes, how can I help you?" asked an unsmiling woman in her thirties wearing an apron, obviously Simone.

"Hello, my name is Stephanie Jones and this is Bekka my daughter," I replied, smiling as disarmingly as I could.

"Well, I'm sorry Stephanie, we don't normally have babies in the crá¨che, it's really for toddlers," said Simone, obviously confident in her ability to repel the source of a potential problem.

My heart sank at this unexpected response.

"We do sometimes have a baby if special arrangements are made and usually only for a short period, but I'm pretty sure that there's nothing in the book about a new baby coming today," Simone explained, in a not too unfriendly tone, but clearly searching for the coup de grace that would expel me from her little world.

She opened the big heavy diary that was on the top of the desk next to the entrance and quickly glanced at the list of children booked in.

"There's nothing here, who did you say told you to being your daughter here today?" Simone asked, her smile showing her confidence that I had made some mistake and was about to leave.

"I didn't say, but it was Jeffrey Withers, yesterday when I phoned him to accept the job," I replied.

"You spoke to him yesterday, at home?" Simone asked, raising her eyebrows at the idea of someone contacting the Deputy MD on a Sunday.

I sensed a weakening in Simone's resolve not to admit Bekka and pressed home my advantage.

"Yes and he was eager for me to start today after I had the interview with him and Alex on Friday," I explained, dropping the name of the company MD into the conversation.

"Is that Alex Price?" she asked, clearly taken aback at my contacts in the company.

"Yes, is there another Alex in European Experiences?" I enquired ever so innocently.

"Well I guess we'll have to try and fit you in, at least on a temporary basis, we are not really staffed here to cater for babies," said Simone, grudgingly conceding defeat.

At that stage Bekka chose to announce her presence with a little whimper that gradually increased in volume so that by the time I had picked her up she was making enough noise to attract the attention of most of the other children in the crá¨che, apart from the two garage mechanics who appeared to be experimenting in ram raid attacks with their plastic vehicles.

I sat down, holding Bekka, on a nearby chair and quickly unbuttoned my blouse, with my free hand. I opened my nursing bra, removed the pad and put Bekka to suckle. I had wondered how long she would last this morning as she had not fed well earlier, as if she could sense the tension I was under.

"Oh, you're breast feeding, that might be a problem," said Simone.

Meanwhile at this development two of the toddlers, a girl with blond hair in a ponytail, wearing a short pink dress and a boy in shorts, had walked over and were standing in front of me.

"Simone why is she letting her baby eat her boobies?" asked the girl, pointing at me, sounding very alarmed.

"It's OK, Evie" reassured Simone, "Stephanie's giving some milk to Bekka"

"Hello Stephanie," said Evie, smiling at me.

"Hello Evie," I said, smiling back.

"Stephanie?" said Evie.

"Yes," I said.

"Do you have to drink a lot of milk to get it into your boobies?" she asked, seriously.

"Um no, Evie," I said, trying my best to stifle my amusement.

"Will I get boobies, if I drink a lot of milk?" asked the little boy," I don't want boobies"

"You like milk, you'll have boobies soon, Paul," explained Evie.

Paul put his hands to his eyes and started sobbing.

"I don't want boobies, only girls have boobies," he said between his tears.

At this stage, before any more of the children could join in the toddler discussion, on breast feeding and gender roles, Simone decided that major distraction was in order.

"Children, I think we need a special celebration to welcome a new baby to our crá¨che, I have a packet of chocolate buttons for everyone," she said leading Evie and Paul over to the table. The other children followed, instantly captivated by the prospect of some more sweet, brown circles of delight.

I managed to finish topping up Bekka and she went back to sleep. By the time Simone had seated all the children for their extra treat I was once again the smartly dressed female executive, in my black Jaeger skirt suit as before. I would need to do some shopping soon to maintain the appropriate image.

Simone explained about the difficulties in ensuring that the crá¨che would be quiet enough for a baby to sleep, due to their lack of space. She suggested that I use the travel cot, that she had retrieved from the back of a cupboard, in my office and to bring Bekka down when she was awake and they could put her in one of the playpens. I accepted the only offer that was possible and we made our way to Jeffrey's office.

I knocked on his office door, a muffled voice bade us enter.

"Stephanie, welcome, I'm so glad that you could start today," he said effusively, as we walked into the room," Oh Simone, is there is problem?"

Simone explained about the staffing issue and the arrangement that she had made to look after Bekka.

"OK, that shouldn't be a problem, Stephanie will be working from the finance department, they have a spare desk and hopefully it's not as busy or noisy as the general office," he said, leading us towards across the open plan area where around a hundred employees of the company were working. The strange procession of the deputy MD, myself carrying Bekka and Simone with the travel cot received a lot of curious looks.

We entered a medium sized room with two desks on either side. A smartly dressed, tall woman in her middle thirties turned away from her computer and looked at us through her horn rimmed glasses.

"Debbie, this is Stephanie Jones, I told you about her earlier," said Jeffrey, "Stephanie let me introduce Debbie James, our financial genius"

I smiled and held out my hand a gesture that was reciprocated by Debbie, although her smile seemed to lack any warmth. Simone quickly set up the cot and then left, with a last mutter about staffing levels. I laid Bekka down gently in the cot while Jeffrey excused himself, promising to check in on me later.

"She's a lovely baby," commented Debbie," although I'm surprised that you have to bring it to work. Can't you get a nanny or a place in a nursery?"

I sensed a little opposition from Debbie to my presence in her office, so I quickly explained Bekka's cow's milk allergy.

"You're going to breast feed here?" asked Debbie, sounding astonished at such news.

"I'm sorry there doesn't seem to be much choice, maybe something else can be sorted out later," I replied, trying to mollify Debbie's antagonism.

"Well I hope you're not going to be too noisy about it, sometimes it takes a lot of concentration to get on top of the finances here," she said, sounding annoyed at the intrusion in her little kingdom.

I promised to do my best and then turned to my desk to start my work. The next few hours went by very quickly as I phoned a number of my European contacts. I had emailed them all on the weekend explaining the change in my work and gender situation. Despite that forewarning I still had to explain again the reasons for my changed identity and to deny that I was a transsexual. Apart from one or two frosty responses most of my calls went well and the majority were interested in discussing possible deals.

As usual Bekka timed her return from the land of nod very well and I had just finished my latest phone call when it became time to feed her again. I discovered the advantage of giving my precious daughter her nourishment at the desk as I replied to some of the emailed responses.

I noticed that Debbie had been giving me strange looks for much of the morning, which I put down to her antagonism and her curiosity. It was a relief to take the ten minute walk to the crá¨che and back to deposit Bekka.

As I walked back into the office she was stood next to my desk holding my phone.

"There's a call, I think it might be for you," she said, passing me the hand-piece," it's from Germany, by the accent"

"Hallo," I said uncertainly," wer ist das?"

"Morgan, Steve," came the familiar voice of Otto from Heidelberg.

The conversation followed similar lines to the ones previously and, once we had got over the confusion of my changed gender identity, was as positive as most of the earlier calls.

I put the hand-piece down and realised that Debbie was staring at me again. I was getting a bit annoyed by her attitude by now and decided to find out what the problem was.

"Is there something wrong Debbie, " I said a little abruptly," I've noticed you giving me strange looks all morning"

She stared at me for a few more seconds then leaned forward in her desk.

"Listen Stephanie, maybe it's not really any of my business," she said softly," but even though I can't speak French or German, it’s easy to work you the meaning of ‘Transexuelle’ . Also that man from Germany asked to speak to Steve but. Maybe you'd like to explain what’s going on"

“I’m not sure I understand,” I said evasively.

“Stephanie in my job I get to know all of the important things that happen to the company. I have to since I have to process all the finance for everything Alex and Jeffrey get up to,” Debbie said with a slight smile.

“I see,” I responded, not sure where this was leading.

“The point is that when Jeffrey told me that he and Alex were excited about recruiting a former employee of Adventure Travel I wondered if it might be the Steve Jones, whom they have often mentioned. I was therefore very surprised to be introduced to Stephanie Jones this morning,” she explained.

I sat there, staring at her, not being sure what to say.

Debbie stood up and walked over to the door, she closed and then locked it and then turned back towards me.
“There, we won’t be disturbed now. Stephanie, there is one very good reason why you can trust me on this,” Debbie said, before returning to her seat.

“Why is that?” I asked, intrigued by her comment.

“I used to be called Donald,” she explained.

I sat back in my chair, stunned by the revelation.

“Everyone here knows about my past,” she continued,” it’s not an issue, but if you want to keep your situation confidential then that is fine by me”

Reassured by Debbie’s candour I told her everything that had led to me being in her office at that moment. At the end of my explanation she stood up and walked over me and hugged me.

“Steve that is an inspiring story,” she said,” if there is anything I can do to help don’t hesitate to ask”

“Thank you,” I said feeling relaxed for the first time in my new workplace,” maybe things are starting to work out at last”
 
 
Epilogue — Ten Months Later
 
 
“Thanks everyone for coming in for this first meeting of the executive committee of the Adventure Travel division of European Experiences,” said Susan Williams as she sat at the head of the long boardroom table, addressing the twenty other committee members.

“Thanks especially to Steve, Mary, Jules and Kathleen in coming in even though they are on maternity and paternity leave,” she said turning to look at the four of us sitting at the four inch thick oak table that had been made out of the former door to the room we were in.

I looked down at baby Hugh greedily suckling on my left breast while Mary fed Bekka from the bottle containing her own milk that had been pasteurised.* To our side Jules and Kathleen, seven and eight months pregnant respectively, looked uncomfortable in their hard backed chairs.

“Before we start the business of the day, which is to discuss future ventures in the development of our business I just want to publicly thank our four guests for their hard work and perseverance in rescuing our company from the disastrous position it was placed in by the criminal activities of key senior members, all of whom will have time at Her Majesty’s pleasure to consider the folly of their actions,” Susan said,” so please will you join me in extending our appreciation for the four individuals who have shown that a Mother’s Love can conquer all”

Everyone stood and applauded. It was a sweet moment.

*http://jhl.sagepub.com/cgi/content/abstract/17/2/152

“Hi Mummy,” greeted Bekka, “I did a picture, Daddy is Mum-Stephanie tonight.” “Yes, darling, I can see,” said Mary as she walked over to the playpen and knelt down to hug our daughter. “Don’t worry Bekka, Daddy’s not going to be Mum-Stephanie much more tonight.” A Mother’s Love - Vol. 3.01 by Alys

---

A Mother’s Love Vol. 3.01

“Non! C’est impossible!”, shouted the angry French hotelier down the phone, before he ended the call.

At the fifth rejection of the day I slammed the phone down. It had been a difficult and frustrating day trying to persuade some hard pressed European hotel owners and activity organisers to increase their discounts for Adventure Travel. So far I’d only managed to shave a few percentage points off a small number of accounts. It wasn’t going to be enough to avoid redundancies. The whole holiday trade was going down the pan.

I sat back in my padded office chair and took a sip from my glass of water. I looked at my watch and realised it was time to head off to pick up Hugh and Bekka from the creche. I rapidly logged off the computer and locked the desk before standing up, smoothing my skirt down and adjusting an errant bra strap. I picked up my handbag and started for the door.

The phone rang.

I hesitated. I only had a few minutes to change from my female outfit and pick up my daughter before the creche closed.

I looked at the caller display. I had to take the call.

"Stephanie ici......."

*****************************

Fifteen minutes later I burst through the door into the nursery, "Sorry Janis, there was a call....."

The young woman smiled up at me from the rocking chair where she was entertaining my youngest child, Hugh, by making faces, while Bekka, my daughter, was carefully dressing and undressing her Cabbage Patch doll.

"Don't worry Stephanie, I know you're doing your best for the company. Anyway Hugh, Bekka and I have enjoyed ourselves for the last ten minutes."

I picked up the children’s bag and put the strap over my shoulder and then reached over to take Hugh from Janis’s arms. I called over to Bekka.

“Time to go now Bekka, love, fetch Ashley.”

“Mum-Stephanie, I did picture,” she informed me as she stood up and walked over to grasp my hand with her right hand carrying her doll in the other.

Janis pointed at the bag and nodded.

I smiled back, “OK, Bekka we can show it to Mummy later.”

I turned back to Janis, “Have they been good today?" I asked.

"Great on the whole, Bekka was as sweet and cheerful as always and played with the other children, although maybe Hugh is getting another tooth, he was a bit grizzly this afternoon but otherwise he's a pet," Janis responded.

I quickly strapped my bundles of joy into the double pushchair and turned to leave the nursery.

"Stephanie aren't you forgetting something?"

I looked round to see Janis giving me a funny look, "What do you mean? Isn't everything in their bag?

"Not the children’s stuff, you, your clothes. Stephanie, aren't you going to change? I thought Mary doesn't like seeing you in women's clothes."

“I’ve got no time now, I have to get home to make our evening meal and feed the children. If I’m lucky I can change before Mary gets home.”

“I bet she’ll be glad when you’ve weaned Hugh.”

“Me too and then I won’t have to be Stephanie in the office when I’m dealing with customers in case they see me go off to breast feed,” I reminded her.

She smiled, “Yes, that’ll save on laundry too.”

I bade Janis a good evening and made my encumbered way along the corridor from the creche to the lift. The office was deserted as it was now after 6pm and it was quite dim apart from the ghostly glow of the computer monitors on the desks.

“Late tonight, Ms Jones,” asked John, the caretaker as I exited the lift on the ground floor of our North London office block.

I pushed the children over towards the little office where John controlled the building’s basic functions. I had always tried to spend a little time with him every time I saw him. I also owed him a personal debt after he saved me from a serious sexual assault the previous year.

“Been trying to get more discounts from our European hotels. We need to save money somehow.” I explained, even though I knew John would have a pretty good idea of the state of the company with the continual reduction in the numbers working in head office over the previous twelve months.

“If anyone can do it, I’m sure it’s you Ms Jones,” he responded, “I’d hate to have to take redundancy now with six more years till I retire, not many jobs for ex-caretakers in their mid-fifties.”

I touched his arm, gently, a gesture I would be very unlikely to use when I was in male mode, “Don’t worry, John, you’re the most important person here, I’d be long gone before you ever lost your job.”

I turned the buggy and began to move for the main exit, “Good night, John and give my best wishes to Mrs Everrit.”

“Thanks Ms Jones, good night and give my regards to Mary,” he replied before he pressed a button on his control desk to open the doors for me to leave.

I pushed the children through the opening and then turned and gave him a last wave, a gesture that Bekka copied to John’s evident amusement as he smiled at us.

As I approached my car in the staff carpark I considered John’s mental agility in dealing with my varied gender roles. Usually in the evening, when I had had enough time to change he referred to me as ‘Mr Jones’ and gave his regards to ‘Mrs Jones’. However whenever I was unable to change before leaving he would refer to me as ‘Ms Jones’ but Mary would no longer be my spouse and would just be my friend.

“Oh well, not for too much longer...” I said to myself as I adjusted my bra strap after belting the children in the car.

I sat down in the car and adjusted the seat belt across my breasts.

“I’m going to miss my two built in pillows when they’re gone,” I muttered as I started the car and slowly eased myself down the narrow ramp of the car park.

The journey home along Holloway Road was slightly easier than usual, given the lateness of the evening and I made it home only twenty minutes after my normal arrival time. As I crawled up the ‘expressway’ I considered how flexible Bekka was in addressing me. In male mode I was ‘Daddy’, while in female ‘mode’ I was ‘Mum-Stephanie.’ This sometimes caused confusion if we were together in a public place and I was about to go to work, when anyone overhearing her would assume that Mary and I were a Lesbian couple.

I rushed the children into the house, put Bekka in her high chair with a pot of yoghurt and banana. I placed Hugh in his bouncy chair, which seemed to amuse him while I transferred the casserole from the fridge into the oven to cook.

There was just time to make myself a quick instant coffee before Hugh lost interest in the mobiles on his chair and remembered it was time for something contained securely in my blouse.

***************************

Fifteen minutes later I had finished feeding Hugh and was changing him, after taking Bekka from her high chair and putting her in the playpen. I heard Mary’s car pulling into the drive and cursed quietly to myself, “Damn I ran out of time.”

“Hi Steve, I’m home,” she called from the hallway, “have a good day?”

“In the kitchen, love,” I replied.

I heard her walk the few steps and opened the door to the kitchen. I tensed slightly waiting for the criticism.

“Oh you’re still ‘Stephanie’,” she commented, coldly, “I thought you’d promised to change before coming home.”

“Hi Mummy,” greeted Bekka, “I did a picture, Daddy is Mum-Stephanie tonight.”

“Yes, darling, I can see,” said Mary as she walked over to the playpen and knelt down to hug our daughter.

“Don’t worry Bekka, Daddy’s not going to be Mum-Stephanie much more tonight.”

She turned to me, “Can you go and change now, you know how much I dislike seeing you in those clothes.”

I handed Hugh over to her, “Sorry about the clothes I had to make.....”

Mary interrupted, “I don’t want to hear any excuses and to be honest there seem to be too many of them these days. I sometimes wonder if Stephanie is ever going to be gone from our lives.”

Silenced by her icy comment, I made my way to our bedroom, undressed, putting away my blouse, skirt and jacket in the separate section of my wardrobe, with placing my undies in the washing basket. I pulled on a loose t-shirt and some jogging bottoms and then removed my make-up.

I was about to make my way back to the kitchen when the sway of my boobs reminded me that I needed something to restrain them. Mary hated me wearing a proper bra when I was in male mode, so I removed my t-shirt and pulled on one of my stretchy sports bras and then replaced my t-shirt on top.

When I got back downstairs Mary was finishing putting Hugh to sleep in his cot. I took Bekka to the bathroom and run a shallow bath for her. She sat in and began splashing and playing with her bath toys.

I heard Mary coming up the stairs.

“How was your day, love?” I asked as I reached to hug her.

She came towards me, was about to return the gesture but then at the last second she pushed me away, “Urgh, you should have had a shower, I can still smell my perfume on you.”

I looked at her, feeling a little crestfallen, “Sorry, Mary I thought you’d want me to help with Bekka.”

She stood a few paces away and looked at me carefully, “Steve I could have waited a few minutes for you to smell a bit more masculine.”

“Sorry.”

There was a pause and then she asked me, “Because we needed me to work again how long did we agree you’d breast feed Hugh?”

I thought for a moment, “didn’t we say about eight months?”

“We did, since he could be safely weaned onto solids and soya milk.”

“We’re almost there then.”

“Steve we reached eight months almost six weeks ago.”

“Sorry, I’ve been so busy at work, I hadn’t kept track of the time.”

“Tell me Steve, have you made that appointment at the clinic yet?”

“Mary, you know the situation at work, I’m doing everything to save the company....and my job.”

“Yes, I know how hard you’re working,” she replied with a gentler tone than before, “ and I’m sure everyone appreciates your efforts.”

I smiled at her and then turned to redirect Bekka’s efforts from splashing to washing.

I was surprised by my wife’s next sentence.

“That’s why I phoned up myself and got you an appointment tomorrow....for your mastectomy!”

---

To Be Continued...

End of Vol. 3.01

Ceri was looking forward to a long summer lazing around after finishing junior school but what is on the piece of paper that threatens his future? A Piece of Paper (Part 1) by Alys

---

A Piece of Paper (Part 1)

The end of term

The end of my time in school.

I turned round as I walked through the gates of Ysgol Glan Aber, my junior school, for the last time.

“Bye Mr Jones, bye Miss Williams bye all you teachers,” I whispered.

I turned to my mates and arranged to meet them later in the park for a game of footy and then jogged down the path to my flat.

Ten minutes later I reached the front door. I was a little out of breath as I’d ran up the stairs to the second floor rather than wait for the lift.

I was so excited. Six whole weeks ahead without school. I’d been planning all week with my friends what we wanted to do over our holidays.

Number one priority was have a good kick around in the park and then hopefully manage to scrounge some money to go to the fair.

I opened the door and rushed into our small two bedroomed flat.

“Mum is it OK if I go to the park before tea.” I called as I made my way to my room to dump my schoolbag and to fetch my ball.

Usually my Mum would respond with either an immediate “alright love” or “tea’s at six” but today there was a pause and then a quiet, “Ceri can you come in here please. I need to talk to you.”

Her surprising words stopped me in middle of making my way out.

“Can’t it wait Mum, I promised everyone I’d be there with the ball in five minutes.”

“Please Ceri, this is very, very important I need to talk to you now.”

There was some emphasis on the ‘now’ and so I knew this wasn’t something I could put off.”

I opened the door into the little kitchen diner. Mum was sat at the table looking older and wearier than she had in a long time.

I stood in the doorway “What’s up?”

My mother indicated the other chair next to her. I hesitated.

“Please Ceri I need you to sit here when I tell you this.”

“Alright, but I hope this won’t take long,” I said grumpily as I sat down.

Mum paused and took a deep breath before speaking quickly, “Ceri I have to tell you something which is going to seem a bit strange. Please listen carefully before you say anything.”

I looked up and studied her pensive features. This was so out of the ordinary that I started to worry about what was coming. Had I done something that bad? Was Mum really ill, well apart from hardly being able to walk after the car accident.

She continued, “ After I’ve finished you’re going to have a make decision and depending on what you decide you’ll either be going to a really nice school in September or you’ll probably be in foster care by September.”

I stared at my mother trying to process the strange sentences coming out of her mouth. It all made no sense. What decision could I have to make and how might it mean being taken from the family home.

“I don’t understand,” I ventured timidly, “What’s going…….”

She held her finger up to interrupt me, “Your great aunt Eleri died today.”

“Oh, that’s sad,” I said at the not unexpected news. She had been ill for a while, I wasn’t sure what with but Mum hadn’t taken me to see her for over a year so it must have been very serious.

As if to echo my thoughts Mum continued, “Yes, it was a relief in the end. She was completely out of it these last few months.”

I wondered what these words meant. Although she’d been friendly enough as any 70 year old could be to someone my age, she had been very eccentric every time we’d seen here, usually someone’s birthday.

“I had a call from her lawyer after you went to school this morning. He told me she passed away last night.”

“OK”

“I had to go and see him after the phone call. He had something really important to tell me. Here it is,” she indicated a piece of densely typed A4 size paper on the table.

I looked at it but the number of words and long sentences made it impossible for me to understand although I noticed the word ‘Will’ as part of the title and our names in bold letters further down.

“What does it say, Mum?” I asked.

“Well, it’s not the official document just a summary of the contents of Aunt Eleri’s will. Mr Smithers thought I needed to see it though, although I wished I hadn’t because…..well we have a big problem now.”

She continued by reminding me of how we had been supported by my great aunt financially since my father and grandparents were killed in the car accident that had severely injured my mother herself.

“Well you remember about four years ago she started to get a bit confused about your name and thinking you were a girl.”

I remembered indeed. The embarrassment of her confusing the English girl’s name Kerry with my gender neutral Welsh Ceri.

“So are we going to have some money for a holiday now Mum?”

“Unfortunately that’s the least of our problems.” she sighed.

“So, what’s going on, can you tell me so I can go out before tea.”

She looked at me with a strange caring but resigned expression, “Right there’s no easy way of saying this so I’d better get straight to the point.”

She took another deep breath, “Aunty Eleri left all her money and her nice house in Swansea to me with a trust fund for you to access when you’re eighteen.”

“Wow, that’s great!”

“But only if you go to the school of her choice until you’re eighteen. Otherwise all her money will go to Cat’s protection and we won’t even have her monthly payment that keeps this roof over our heads”

“Well, I’ll miss my friends and….”

“It’s a private school.”

“Oh, that’s a bit weird, will they all talk posh and everything? But I suppose it could be fun”

Mum sighed again and then spoke slowly and deliberately, “It’s a private all GIRL’s school.”

---

To Be Continued

End of Part 1

Ceri has to go shopping for a dress. How will he cope with this experience? A Piece of Paper (Part 2) by Alys

---

A Piece of Paper (Part 2)

We walked into the department store. I looked around to see if everyone was staring at me and pointing. I noticed a few girls my age. I wondered if one of them would know me from school and shout out, “that’s not a girl!”

“Stop trying to hide behind me,” Mum said as she used her stick to slowly make her way to the girls’ clothes section.

“You know why we’re here. The sooner we’re done the quicker you can take those clothes off.”

I’d be so glad to take off my mother’s denim skirt and flowery blouse. She’d insisted I needed to look like a girl to go shopping for something to wear for tomorrow’s appointment and unfortunately for me she managed to find something of hers that more or less fitted me.

“Sorry, Mum,” I said as I moved back to walking by her side.

I felt so exposed as my skirt swayed with my walk, while the feeling of tights on my legs was so alien. How do girls put up with them I wondered.

We reached the children’s section and Mum gratefully followed my lead to the chair and sat down.

“Thanks love,” she said, “now do you remember what size you need to look for?”

I nodded my head.

“OK, now go and choose a pretty dress for tomorrow and one that’s mostly black for the funeral.”

I turned and looked at the clothes racks. An hour ago agreeing to go along with the need to appear as a girl for the next few weeks to keep staying in the flat had seemed like an easy but nebulous decision.

Now, the reality of maintaining the subterfuge with real people around was frightening.

I hesitated and whispered, “What if someone notices?”

“Don’t be silly, you look great, even if the clothes look too old on you….and remember don’t smear your lipstick.”

Was she a mind reader? I had been so tempted to sneak into the toilets and wipe the weird stuff off my lips.

“Now, go along we don’t have very much time before the shop closes,” she said and give me a gentle push towards the clothes.

Without another word of protest I made my way to the first rack. I found the dresses with the right size and looked at my options. There was just so much choice, how could I decide?

“Hi”

I started and looked to my left, “..oh hi.”

The girl about my age smiled, “Are you going to a party too?”

I hesitated before squeaking, “Party?”

“These are party dresses, you know. My friends and I are going to a birthday party in the Star club tomorrow, we’re having a DJ and everything,” she burbled.

“Wow,” I responded, even though I had no idea what or where the Star club was.

“Yes, it’s great and we can even wear make-up. I love your lipstick, I wish my Mum would let me wear it in the day. Where’s your party?”

Felling a little overwhelmed by the verbal onslaught I responded, “Oh..I’m not going to a party, Mum said I need something to wear for the doctor.”

“You want that aisle,” she responded pointing to a collection about 2 metres away.

I thanked her and moved over to a new set of clothes and more bewildering choices. Luckily for me there didn’t seem to be too many in my size and within a few minutes I’d chosen a pretty and not too frilly dress and another darker more subdued one.

Feeling triumphant I walked back to where my Mum was sitting. Maybe there’d still be time for a knockabout later after we’d bought the clothes and as long as the traffic wasn’t too bad.

“Good choices, Ceri,” she commented as she held them both up.

I smiled at her approval and turned towards the shop sales counter.

“Where are you going?” she asked.

“Don’t we have to pay?”

“Of course.”

“Do you want me to carry them to the counter?” I asked.

She laughed, “Nice try. You have to try them on before we leave. I don’t want to have to come back tomorrow and have to change them.”

“Oh Mum,” I whinged.

As if she could read my mind and knew my hopes for the evening she continued softly, “I’m sorry Ceri, we still have to buy you some other things to wear for tomorrow, you won’t have time to see your friends tonight.”

She noticed the sad expression on my face at hearing this and reassured me that there’d be time for me to play the next day.

Two hours later, after a longer than expected journey because of various unexpected roadworks, we arrived home exhausted.

If I thought walking around the shop in girls’ clothes would be a bad enough experience. It had been nothing compared with the terror I’d felt as I’d gone to the changing rooms to try on the dresses for my mother.

Every second as I waited for a cubicle to be free I expected to be outed as a fraud. It had been such relief to finally escape into the changing room. The rest of the time in the shop had been a bit of a blur as we bought the dresses, underwear, shoes and various other items necessary for basic girlhood.

“Can you hang the dresses up, love,” Mum asked as she sat down in the kitchen with her reviving cup of coffee.

“Have a shower and go to bed after, we’ll need to get up early tomorrow, we’ll need time to get you ready.”

I didn’t protest as the shopping experience had been both mentally and physically tiring.

“You can go in now,” the young receptionist said to Mum and I, indicating the office door to her left.

A middle aged man in a pinstripe suit looked up as we walked into the large, fairly spartan office.

“Good morning Ms Jones,” said Mr Smithers my great aunt’s solicitor, “please have a seat.”

As we sat he turned to me, “You must be Ceri, your great aunt often talked about you. I’m pleased to me you”

I smiled and wasn’t sure what to say in response. Fortunately he turned to Mum and continued.

“Thank you for coming in this morning. As I mentioned we have rather a difficult situation regarding the will. I’m hoping we can agree a resolution today so that everything is settled before the funeral on Saturday.”

“What exactly is the problem Mr Smithers?” my mother asked guardedly.

Mr Smithers glanced at me before replying, ”Ms Jones, as you are aware your great aunt was diagnosed as suffering from dementia for the last two years of her life. After her diagnosis she arranged that I would have power of attorney in case she became incapacitated”

“Yes I understand all this but why does this affect the will……”
“Please Ms Jones let me explain…”

At this stage I had began to zone out. I wasn’t sure how all this discussion would affect me. I was much more aware of how exposed I felt in the the short dress, how weird the makeup felt on my face and how my new shoes were pinching. I just wanted to get this nightmare over and return to normal. I was still hoping that I could salvage the rest of the weeks with my mates.

I heard my name and focused on the conversation again.

“.......therefore I arranged for an interview for Ceri with the headteacher of Ysgol Santes Dwynwen* for next week. Clearly I’ll need to cancel now.”

“And why is that Mr Smithers? Asked Mum

Again he glanced at me, this time a rather probing and embarrassing stare.

“Ms Jones, I was misled by your great aunt regarding Ceri’s gender when she drew up the will. I’m sorry but despite Ceri looking very fetching in HIS new dress this morning I’m afraid he’s not a GIRL and this is an all girls’ school.”

*Saint Dwynwen school (Saint Dwynwen is the Welsh patron saint of love - see wikipedia)

---

To Be Continued

End of Part 2

It seems likely that Ceri will lose a home and probably a mother. But could a google search come up with a solution. A Piece of Paper (Part 3) by Alys

---

A Piece of Paper (Part 3)

“What are we going to do Mum?” I asked as I very carefully ate my brownie in the nearby Starbucks.

I was surprised at the care I was taking about eating my brownie. There was clearly something about wearing a pretty dress and makeup which had changed my usual habit of rapidly scoffing sweets and cakes.

“I don’t know love, he didn’t leave us a lot of options,” Mum replied as she sipped her Americano.

Earlier Mr Smithers had been adamant that even if Mum could get documentation that I was possibly trans, which was the purpose for the clothes and the doctor’s visit later on, he was not prepared to try and argue for a deed of variation for the will.

In the end he had been quite apologetic, “I’m sorry but the wording is very clear, unless Ceri attends the all girls school stated, that is Ysgol Santes Dwynwen, then all of your great aunt’s assets will pass to Swansea Cat’s Protection.”

“Maybe we should take the deal about the mortgage and forget about the school interview.” Mum suggested sorrowfully.

Mr Smithers, clearly concerned about our imminent financial plight, had even offered to personally pay our mortgage for the next three months to give Mum chance to sort out possibly getting some state benefits and finding somewhere new to live.

“Will you be able to get a job, Mum?” I asked as I licked my fingers of the last of the sticky cake.

“Who knows, maybe there is something I could do without having to walk much, but the unemployment benefit office seems such a nightmare,” she answered, “..remember my friend Jenny...that was so sad.”

We sat in silence for a few moments and I thought about Mum’s friend who had had such a terrible time trying to receive the benefits she was entitled to, with endless interviews and then harsh sanctions when she’d missed appointments because of late buses. Her suicide had even made the local TV news.

To distract myself from the sadness I was sharing with Mum I took out my phone and, after connecting to the Starbucks wifi, googled the school. All the discussion about it and I knew nothing about the place Aunty Eleri had wanted me to go to.

While I waited for the school webpage to load I asked, “Mum why did Aunty Eleri want me to go to Ysgol Santes Dwynwen anyway?”

She looked at me and a sad smile appeared on her face, “That’s the irony, it wasn’t so much she wanted to send you to this school, she just wanted you to have a private education.”

“Why?”

“She was convinced it was better than state education and she knew I was opposed to private schools in principle.”

“Why, Mum?”

She looked at me and then explained for maybe the hundredth time her arguments about private schools perpetuating privilege and inequality. The same point of view I’d heard many times when she’d discussed the issue with Aunty Eleri. I’d never really understood it before and I wasn’t quite sure if I understood it now. I did know though that I’d liked my Junior school and I’d liked going to the same school as all my friends in the area.

I wondered what they were all doing now. I looked out of the window at the beautiful summer sunshine and imagined them in the park having a great time playing six a side or cricket.

Then a new thought struck me, “But why a girls’ school, why not a mixed one?”

“Yes, that would have been so much simpler, I’m not sure maybe…..”

Suddenly I noticed something on the school website and interrupted, “Mum, look!”

She took the phone from me and read the short paragraph I’d noticed, “That’s interesting. Maybe…..maybe there’s a chance.”

“What do you mean, Mum?”

“Ceri, do you trust me?”

“Of course, why?”

“We need to do a little bit of shopping before this afternoon and then we need to have a long chat.”

**********************************

Three hours later we were walking from the cark park to Swansea Nuffield Health clinic. If I had felt odd before in my dress and girl’s shoes I now felt even stranger. The new training bra Mum had bought was like a strap across my chest, the clip-on earrings were pinching my ears and the pink hair ribbons were tickling my cheek.

We approached the front door and I could see my reflection in the sun drenched glass window. I looked a very, girly girl and it was a completely weird experience to realise that this pretty person coming towards me was in fact a reflection of myself.

We approached the reception and after confirming the details of payment for the private appointment we were ushered into the waiting room of Doctor Jason Williams the gender consultant.

The only other people in the waiting room were a young boy with very short hair and an older woman who was clearly his mother.

“He’s running a bit late,” said the woman as we sat down.

“Oh dear,” Mum replied, “have you been here long?”

“About a quarter of an hour, our appointment was ten minutes ago.”

The two women began a conversation about travelling problems and the weather.

The boy came over to sit next to me.

“That’s a nice dress,” he said.

“Thanks.”

“I’m Alex.”

“Ceri.”

“You trans too?” he asked.

“Yes,” I lied.

“I want to get puberty blockers.”

“What are they?” I asked without thinking how such a question would expose my ignorance.

He gave me a strange look and continued, “Don’t you know? To stop having puberty and everything. Half the girls in my class are wearing bras now, yuck.”

“Oh, OK,” I muttered in reply, not completely comprehending who he was. He looked so much like a boy so why did he want to be a girl if he hated the idea of wearing a bra?

Oblivious to my confusion he continued, “I wanted to play football with the boys but the school said I could only play netball with the girls.”

“That’s not fair,” I responded, “I’m on my school football team.”

He gave me a searching look, “How do you play football? Girls can’t play on our team, nor trans boys like me.”

I suddenly realised who or what he was and how I was undermining my carefully constructed image as an authentic transperson. I racked my brain to think of some sensible way to respond. Then I had an inspiration, “We have girls and boys football in my school.”

“Lucky you,” he said.

I was saved from any further uncomfortable probing by the door to the doctor’s office opening and our two waiting room companions being ushered inside.

I waved Alex goodbye and then turned to Mum and whispered, “I didn’t know there were girls who wanted to be boys.”

She explained what she knew about the various aspects of being transgender and then we both sat silently waiting for the appointment. I was beginning to get very worried about how the story Mum had coached me with would stand up to a doctor’s probing. I’d already almost revealed myself to a teen trans boy just in a casual chat. I wished Mum had never had the piece of paper, I wished I was out with my mates, wandering the high street, buying some sweets and just having a laugh.

Then I thought about losing my home and maybe losing my Mum and I felt a new resolve and knew that I had to do my best and try and convince Dr Williams.

Just over 30 minutes later it was our turn to see the doctor.

Dr Williams was a friendly looking man of medium height, possibly slightly overweight maybe in his late forties or early fifties. I always found it hard to estimate the age of adults but he definitely looked older than Mum.

He was wearing a slightly rumpled pinstripe suit and was looking a little tired. He took a sip of coffee as we walked in and gestured us to the two chairs in front of his bit wooden desk.

“Good afternoon, both, so sorry about the delay, we had to squeeze in an extra appointment earlier, a bit of a personal crisis, family rejection and everything, all very sad.”

He took another gulp of coffee and then continued, “Would either of like some refreshments, tea, coffee, coke?”

Mum indicated that we were both fine and so the Doctor continued.

“It’s so nice to see supportive parents coming to me with their children, so let’s make a start. Now when did you make the appointment, when was it?”

He looked at his computer screen and raised his eyebrows a little, “Only yesterday, that is rather recent. I see we only have the few sketchy details so I’m going to need to ask you quite a lot of questions.”

“That’s fine of course,” responded Mum.

“So this is Ceri,”

Mum and I nodded.

“And Ceri is…” he checked his screen again, “..biologically male.”

Mum assented.

“Do you mind if I ask Ceri some questions directly Ms Jones?”

“That’s fine, of course.”

Doctor Williams swiveled a little in his chair and looked at me, “So Ceri, can you tell me how long you have wanted to be a girl?”

I looked at his probing eyes and remembered the answer that I’d been coached to make to this exact question, “I don’t just want to be a girl, Doctor Williams, I am a girl.”

He smiled at me, “Yes, of course, I must apologise for my choice of words. Thank you for your answer.”

He turned back to Mum, “Now if you can give me details of Ceri’s childhood.”

They spoke for maybe ten minutes going over the details of my real upbringing and a fake one that Mum interweaved into the history. She then moved onto how the possibility of me attending a girls’ school had suddenly come up and how I was hoping to transition while at school. The sound of the computer keyboard and the murmur of the adults voices was quite sleep inducing and I felt my eyes beginning to close.

Luckily Mum noticed and while the doctor was distracted typing she poked me hard in the thigh. I jerked up in my chair to find the doctor looking at me once again. He turned back to Mum.

“Yes, there is clearly a lot of evidence in Ceri’s life so far of gender dysphoria and today’s presentation is a very clear, unambiguous statement of Ceri’s preferred gender.”

I noticed a slight smile on Mum’s face, which disappeared in an instant. She was clearly very hopeful.

“So Ceri how do you feel about being able to live as a girl all the time?”

I summoned up as much fake enthusiasm as possible, “That would be great.”

“So I will need to have at least another three appointments with you and your Mum before I can make a clear diagnosis.”

“Then Ceri you’ll be able to have some puberty blockers to stop all that horrible facial and body hair developing.”

I could the disappointment developing on Mum’s face. We couldn’t wait for another three appointments.

“The usual protocol for cross sex hormones is 16, so that would only be a few years for you to wait to feminize your body, develop your breasts and everything.”

I couldn’t stop myself and uttered an almost involuntary “16?”

Doctor Williams took my response as one of disappointment at having to wait too long to get breasts rather than one of horror that it would have to happen before I finished school and escaped from this whole nightmare.

“Well, don’t be too disheartened it’s very likely that the protocol will be amended in the near future and 14 or even 13 might be possible.”

At this stage, before the potential nightmare worsened, I was grateful for Mum interrupting and asking, “I was wondering if you might be able to give us some sort of diagnosis today. We really need something to show the school at Ceri’s interview next week”

Doctor Williams sat back in his chair paused before replying, “Ms Jones, it would be completely unprofessional to make such a life changing diagnosis on the basis of one short interview.”

My mother blushed in obvious embarrassment, “I’m sorry Doctor Williams I didn’t mean to suggest that, but it would really help us if you could find a way to…..”

Mum realised that the doctor was staring at her and faltered in her explanation.

There was a moment’s pause and the Doctor Williams spoke, slower than before, each word being delivered with gravitas.

“In addition, Ms Jones, I find the fact that until today there has been no medical involvement in Ceri’s life to be a little unorthodox if not a little suspicious. I wonder if someone is trying to pull the wool over my eyes, so to speak.”

---

To Be Continued

End of Part 3

Ceri and Mum have arrived home. Is there any chance for them after the doctor’s appointment? A Piece of Paper (Part 4) by Alys

---

A Piece of Paper (Part 4)

The traffic out of Swansea was heavy and the M4 motorway was very crowded and so it was almost two hours later until we reached our flat in Glan Aber.

Mum had been subdued driving the car and I hadn’t wanted to talk either after the stress and emotions of the meetings during the day. She’d put some of her favourite 90’s tracks on while I semi-dozed on the way back.

Before I got out of the car Mum and I checked to see if anyone was around as I didn’t want news of my apparent gender transformation to become a topic of gossip for the residents of the block of flats.

It was early evening and there seemed to be a lull in the usual streams of people either returning from work or going out for the evening in the town.

“Good timing love,” said Mum, “it looks like most people are having tea, saves you having to change here.”

I helped her out of the car and we made our way slowly to the lifts.

Ten nerve wracking minutes later we were in the sanctuary of the flat.

“Can I go and change now Mum?” I asked, eager to de-feminise as soon as possible. Now I’d fully woken up from the car journey I was hopeful of some time hanging out with my mates after we’d had our evening meal.

“Just a minute Ceri, I need a coffee and we need to talk about what happened today.”

“OK, why don’t you sit down and I’ll make it for you.”
Mum sat down at the kitchen table and I put the kettle on. I felt strange doing familiar domestic things in my dress and other female accoutrements. However despite the oddness of the new slight restrictions on movement I’d soon made a cup of coffee for my mother. I took out a cold drink from the fridge and sat opposite from her at the table.

After taking a sip from her cup Mum looked at me, “Ceri, you were amazing in the doctor’s office.”

“Thanks.”

“Where did all that emotion come from?”

I really didn’t know how I’d summoned up a sudden full-on emotional outburst three hours earlier. Somehow the stress of the day and impending failure of all of Mum’s plans had burst a dam holding back some very strong feelings.

It had taken Mum ten minutes to calm me down and in the end Doctor Williams had agreed to write a letter, for us to take to the school, outlining his strong opinion that I was likely to be suffering from Gender Dysphoria, while not committing himself to a final diagnosis until after further consultations.

“I don’t know Mum but I couldn’t bear to lose you, not after Dad and Granny and Grandad.”

She put her hand over mine, “I know love, and I promise I’ll do my very best to keep us together.”

I squeezed her hand, lost for words.

“Come on, let’s get your makeup off and what about if we have fish and chips for tea from the chippie?”

Thirty minutes later I was walking out of the shop ‘Scod a Sglod Glan Aber’* with a bag of freshly cooked fish and chips.

I heard a shout behind me, “Wait up Ceri!”

I turned to see my friend Dewi jogging towards me carrying a small plastic bag.

“Hey Dewi, what’s up?” I asked as he came alongside me.

“Beans on toast for tea, had to get some bread, we ran out, you got fish and chips?”

“Yeah”

He looked enviously at my bag, “Lucky you, where were you today? We called round but there was no answer.”

I described how I’d had to go to Swansea to see the lawyer about Aunty Eleri’s will, I didn’t mention the other visit.

“I might have to move as well,” I added.

“How come?”

“Mum won’t get any money unless I go to some posh school in Swansea,” I explained.

“That’s stupid. What’s the name of the school?”

We’d reached my block of flats by this time and so I answered, “Santes Dwynwen” before saying ‘bye’ to Dewi and promising to meet him and the rest of our mates in the park the next morning.

Fifteen minutes later after hungrily eating my meal I sat at the kitchen table. My mother was sitting opposite me, eating her food more slowly and obviously in deep thought about something.

“Mum, will I have look like a girl all the time if I go to Ysgol Santes Dwynwen?” I asked.

She looked up from her food and paused for a few seconds before replying, “I think you will, I’m sorry, but remember what it said on the website, you won’t have to wear skirts.”

“How come, the picture on the website shows all the girls in skirts.”

She opened her laptop and launched a browser window, “I noticed there was something after the bit you showed me this morning.

She brought up the school’s website and underneath the link I’d noticed previously about ‘gender variant pupils’ there was small section about a ‘new school uniform policy’.

“That’s cool,” I said but then another worry came to mind, “what about all the hormones won’t they turn me into a girl with tits and everything?”

She smiled and responded, “You’d be OK for the first few years, the blockers only delay the onset of puberty and anyway you’re only eleven, boys don’t usually start until fourteen.”

“But I’d get tits…..”

“Ceri, boobs is a nicer word.”

“But I’d get BOOBS in the end.”

Mum put her fork down and wiped her face with the tissue. “Listen love, I don’t want you to have to go to this school at all, but there’s no way out at the moment if we want to stay together.”

“But I promise, if you can stick it for a year it’ll give me a chance to get some sort of work and then you can go to an ordinary school and be a boy.”

“OK.” I said, feeling somewhat reassured.

I helped Mum clearing up and washing the dishes and then I decided to go to bed. I was so tired after the stress of the day.

The next morning I was up early and after eating a quick breakfast I was in the park before nine o’clock. Before I’d left Mum had promised to give me some money to go to the open air swimming pool in the afternoon if the weather stayed fine.

As I dribbled the ball around the football pitch I felt so happy not to have to worry about looking like a proper girl or whether we would be homeless. I was going to enjoy myself in the fine summer weather and have fun with my friends.

About fifteen minutes later Dewi, another early riser arrived, and we proceeded to practice scoring and saving penalties, taking turns in goal.

After three goes each in goal we went to sit on a nearby park bench to wait for the rest of our friends.

“What did you do yesterday” I asked.

“Six a side, cricket in the afternoon, usual stuff.”

“I wished I’d been here.”

“You know I googled the school you said yesterday.”

I had a sinking feeling in my stomach, why oh why had I given him the name of the damn school. I waited for the inevitable question.

“So how come you’ll be going to a girls’ school then?”

---

To Be Continued

End of Part 4

Ceri makes a new friend but there is a big shock for her at the school interview A Piece of Paper (Part 5) by Alys

---

A Piece of Paper (Part 5)

For about the millionth time I pulled down the hem of my short, black dress and managed to cover an extra millimetre of my legs.

The pews in the church were uncomfortable and the funeral had been going on for almost an hour so far. It seemed my Great Aunt Eleri had been an important person in her life, a cutting-edge scientist, a successful businesswoman, a patron of the arts and of course a lover of cats. This was clear from the series of eulogies that were delivered to the large congregation.

Finally the last prayers were said and we all traipsed out into the cool, damp summer afternoon for the interment. As the closest living relatives my mother and I were to be the first to cast a handful of soil from the prepared pile onto the coffin below.

As I stepped forward it seemed like hundreds of eyes were boring into me waiting to expose my subterfuge. However not a word was spoken and, after my few grains had thudded onto the casket below I walked away and was replaced by the next mourner.

Half an hour later I was sipping a glass of lemonade sat next to the only other teenager in the wake, in the next door golf club.

“I’m Danni,” the girl said after a few minutes sitting together in silence.

“Ceri,” I responded and looked a little more carefully at my companion. She looked to be a year or two older than me from her height and from how much she had developed.

“Did you know her?” she asked.

“She was my great aunt, what about you?”

Danni paused for a second, “I didn’t know Mrs Jones at all but...it’s my mother you see.”

“What about your mother?”

“She’s runs the school.”

“What school?” I asked.

“Didn’t you know? It’s the school that Mrs Jones was the chair of the governors of, the one she donated such a lot of money to.”

I was curious, there hadn’t been a mention of my great aunt’s involvement in the governance of a school, or maybe there had been and I’d not being paying attention to whichever of the older adults had mentioned it in their eulogies.

“So what school is that then?”

“It’s called ‘Ysgol Santes Dwynwen’, it’s pretty posh too.”

I almost knocked over my glass of lemonade when Danni named the school. I managed to catch it before it spilled its contents over me, the table and the floor.

Unfortunately Danni had noticed my reaction, “What’s up? Have you heard of the school?”

Some lemonade went down the wrong way and I coughed hard before replying a little croakily, “I’m supposed to be going there in September.”

She smiled, “Me too, I’m really looking to it?”

I raised an eyebrow, “How old are you then or are you starting in year 9 or 10?”

“I’m thirteen, fourteen in November,” she replied. She noticed my questioning look, “I had ME*, I was off school for almost two years, but I’m a lot better now.”

“So you’ll be in the year seven class then?”

Danni explained how she’d only been strong enough to keep up with some subjects during her time off school and that she’d be with year 7** for some subjects but in year 9*** for others.

She asked me what primary school I’d gone to and I explained I’d gone to Ysgol Glan Aber but we were now moving to Swansea because of my aunt’s will.

“What was your favourite subject?” she asked.

I thought for a moment, “Well we used to have great art lessons and most of the rest were great too and games was great.”

“What did you do in games? I used to love sport before I got ill.”

“Everything, football, cricket, rounders, athletics, rugby…..we had a great playing field,” I replied, “..although they’re selling it now, Mum said it’s the cuts or something.”

“Wow, you were lucky, we only had rounders and dance. Our school was old fashioned, you know, ‘not lady like’ to play football or rugby.”

I laughed at Danni’s pretend posh English ‘not lady like’.

“I was captain of the team,” I stated as I remembered the fun and excitement of the matches we’d played.

“Captain? What team?” asked Danni, in surprise.

“Football,” I replied.

“It was a mixed team,” I hastily added as her expression became more inquiring. This had been true although very few girls had ever been interested in playing. There had been the occasional one over the years though.

“Wow, that’s great,” she exclaimed, “I’ve been badgering Mum about having a football team but she keeps saying no-one knows how to play, wait till I tell her about you.”

We continued to chat about our schools and she told me a little more about her illness. I forgot all about my earlier feelings of being a fraud in pretending to be a girl and began to enjoy Danni’s company.

Finally the wake began to wind down and so, after exchanging social media contact details, I said ‘bye’ to Danni and rejoined my Mum. She looked upset but she wouldn’t tell me why. She whispered ‘later’ and so I stood quietly next to her as she accepted the final condolences of the departing mourners.

It was such a relief to take off the black dress and the itchy bra and tights once we got to what had been Aunt Eleri’s house later on.

However my relief at removing signs of femininity was short-lived after Mum insisted I put on another dress from my meagre collection.

“You have to become comfortable with wearing girls’ clothes, you know, for the interview,” she explained referring to our proposed visit to Ysgol Santes Dwynwen the following Monday.

“You know how important that is going to be to both of us.”

I nodded my understanding and was at least grateful that the casual dress I was now wearing was loose and had a much longer hemline.

We ate our take-away meal silently for a while and then Mum put her fork down and looked at me, “I spoke to Mr Smithers in the wake, Ceri.”

I wondered what my aunt’s lawyer had had to say, from the state of Mum, nothing good I was sure, “What did he say, Mum?”

“He was actually quite pleasant. He upped his offer for the mortgage,” she replied.

“What was it?”

“He offered to pay a whole year if we gave up on the idea of you going to the school.”

“That wouldn’t be long enough would it Mum?” I asked.

“No, it’ll take me at least three years to do the office skills course for disabled people. Maybe we could be OK on benefits for a couple of years.”

“Where would we live, when we lose the house after the mortgage payments stop?

“I spoke to the council yesterday and they said the only options were either one of their remaining one bedroomed flats in the ‘Cae Brwnt’**** estate or a room in a bed and breakfast.”

I was a bit surprised about our limited housing options but Mum explained that the only other accommodation that the council could offer was a three bedroomed house but because of the ‘bedroom tax’***** our benefits wouldn’t be enough to pay the rent.

“There’s only one choice then Mum,” I said with more resolve than I felt, “I’ll have to go to Ysgol Santes Dwynwen until you can get a job.”

Mum reached out to hold my hand, “You have to be sure about this, you’ll have to take puberty blockers, it might delay you developing, you know, into a young man.”

I hesitated before replying, “Yes Mum, I have to otherwise they’ll take me away from you.”

She moved forward to hug me and tears began flowing freely down her cheeks. Soon I was sobbing quietly into her shoulder. Thoughts of food were forgotten as we held each other for what seemed like a long time.

At ten o’clock, Monday morning, we were sitting in another waiting room. This time outside the office of Mrs Lowri Pritchard, headteacher of Ysgol Santes Dwynwen. Mum had spent ages on my clothes and my make-up, constantly reminding me of the the importance of first impressions. Finally she had been satisfied and we’d had to rush to get to the school on time.

Soon we were ushered into the large expensive looking office.

Mrs Pritchard was a trim, well dressed woman in her mid-forties. She rose as we came in and directed us to two chairs in front of her large oak desk.

After a preliminary offer of refreshments and a general enquiry about Mum’s health Mrs Pritchard clasped her hands in front of her and her voice took on a more serious tone.

“I’m afraid this meeting is a waste of time for both of us.”

I was stunned by Mrs Pritchard’s words.

“Why?” my mother asked quietly.

“I spoke to Mr Smithers at the wake of our former generous benefactor last week. It seems this application is a farce. I’m so sorry to have wasted your time, but I felt, for the sake of your aunt’s memory, I owed you a personal explanation.”

“I don’t understand,” I said in a tiny voice.

Mrs Pritchard turned slightly to look at me directly, “I’m sorry Ceri, it seems that your aunt was confused about your true gender when she arranged for you to have a place with us. This is an all girls school and only girls are allowed to attend.”

“But I am a girl,” I countered becoming indignant that we were about to be turned away with all the probable consequences for our future.

Mrs Pritchard paused before continuing in a tone that was kindly but also dismissive, “Ceri, I understand that you may wish to become a girl in the future, but the truth is that at present you are a boy and therefore ineligible to become a pupil at Ysgol Santes Dwynwen. I’m so sorry to disappoint you, also thank you so much for talking to my daughter at the funeral she was really pleased to meet you.”

She turned to my mother, “Now there just remains for me to apologise for your wasted journey and to ask my secretary to…….”

“Perhaps you’d like to look at this,” interrupted my mother as she handed over our letter from Doctor Williams referring to a likely diagnosis of ‘Gender Dysphoria’.

Mrs Pritchard took the letter and read it quickly before looking up, “Yes, I can see and it’s obviously a good thing that Ceri is getting professional help but I don’t see how it affects our admission policy…….”

She was stopped mid sentence by my mother giving her a copy of the page from the schools’s website about its admission policy. She had highlighted the sentence ‘....admission of gender variant pupils undergoing medical treatment at the discretion of the governors’.

“But that was meant for…….” she began and then I could almost see the cogs whirring in her mind as she processed the implications.

Mrs Pritchard smiled and then looked up from the pieces of paper, “I see we were careless in drafting this policy. I’m sure you realise that this refers to the very occasional girl who is questioning her gender identity while attending the school. I think we have two at the moment, one in year 10 and one in year 12.”

“Yes, but Ceri is a gender variant pupil who is undergoing medical treatment.”

Mrs Pritchard turned to her computer, “Just give me a moment to check something.”

A few seconds later she turned back to us, “This could get quite sticky for us legally, since Ceri already has a place at the school allocated on the basis of your aunt’s strong recommendation.”

She paused for a second and then seemed to come to a decision, “Right I’m willing to take a chance on this, I’m sure I can square it with the parents but it will take some delicate public relations.”

I felt a weight fall off my shoulders and I noticed Mum smiling again.

Mrs Pritchard typed a few things on her keyboard and then turned to me, “Well at least I won’t have to disappoint Danni.”

“Why?” I asked.

“She’s so set on a having football team now that she can do sports again and hearing that you were captain of your school team has redoubled her efforts to persuade me to try it out.”

She turned to Mum, “Obviously Ceri will need to be taking puberty blockers before the start of school in September.”

“Yes, that’s in hand,” said Mum.

“What is the current protocol for cross sex hormone?” asked Mrs Pritchard.

“Doctor Williams said it was sixteen years of age at present,” responded Mum.

I was grateful that she hadn’t added Doctor Williams suggestion of lowering the age in the protocol.

“Oh dear,” said Mrs Pritchard, “that could be a bit awkward. Let me phone someone I know in Harley Street in London.”

She picked up the phone and dialed a number. She had a brief conversation giving an outline of my situation as she understood it and then listened for a few minutes as the other person on the line was clearly explaining something. Finally with a smile she expressed her thanks, put down the phone and turned to us with a smile on her face.

“Some good news, it seems that it will be possible for Ceri to start taking estrogen on her 12th birthday, when is that again, let me look at your file, oh yes October 20th, only 3 months away.”

My heart felt like it was sinking through the floor as the full implications of her comment sunk in.

I’d be turning into a girl in only three months!

*https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chronic_fatigue_syndrome
**UK year 7 = USA grade 6
***UK year 9 = USA grade 8
****cae brwnt = dirty field
*****The bedroom tax reduces the benefits of any household with a ‘spare’ bedroom and has created a housing crisis for many low income families.

---

To Be Continued

End of Part 5

"What is it?" I asked, curious about her gift. She rummaged inside her bag for a few seconds before taking out a beautiful blue denim bikini top. "Here, I found it this morning I used to wear it last year, it's very comfortable, but it's a bit small for me now," she said, indicating her well developed boobs. Eyewitness Part 1 by Alys

---

Part 1
 

I dropped my bag on the soft sand and, after spreading my towel out carefully, lay down and stretched in the warm, early morning July sun.

"You and your early bus!" I said to my girlfriend Rachel, sat next to me, slowly massaging her sore feet," that mile was so far in flip-flops."

"Hey Josie, it's not my fault the stupid driver decided to stop in the village not the beach," she responded while throwing a few grains of sand on my legs.

"I know,..was only kidding," I said as I gently caressed her leg," and anyway, there's one good thing about being with a hot girl on an empty beach at half past seven."

"Um, I wonder what that could be?" she said, smiling while holding her chin in her hand as if she was engaged in deep analysis of a serious problem.

"You know what I'm talking about, you tease, why else would I've got up at six?" I replied.

"Could it be this?" Rachel said suggestively as she lay down on her side next to me, snuggling her body close to mine before bending her gorgeous neck and kissing me gently on the lips.

I responded by pulling her down towards me and returning her kiss with interest as our embrace released the tension of days of stifled mutual longing.

Some little time later, our passions briefly sated, we lay entwined on my towel with my head resting on her arm and my hand idly caressing her tummy.

"I love you so much Josie," said Rachel softly, " I wish I could have helped you find your true nature earlier."

"I love you too," I responded," you know I wouldn't have accepted myself without your help."

"Ready for round two?" she asked as she gently maneuvered herself to lie on top of me.

"Wait," I said, using my hand to stop her complete her movement," we're not alone any more."

"Damn!" she said a little angrily, as she moved back to sit upright on the beach.

We both watched as the two young men wearing wetsuits and carrying surfboards made their way down to the water.

"What the hell are they doing here?" asked Rachel," they must know there's no surf in Wembury."

"It's odd, I thought all the surfers went to Newquay," I responded, puzzled at the unexpected arrival.

Within a minute the mystery was solved as the two men ran back to their cars to fetch their masts and sails. They then paddled out on their boards before setting their equipment up. Soon the two colourful windsurfers were moving quickly across the bay.

"Looks like the place is beginning to fill up now," I said as I noticed a few cars coming into the distant beach car park.

"We'd better change then while we still have some privacy," said Rachel," and I've got a new bikini to show you."

"I guess I'm stuck like this," I said indicating my t-shirt and shorts.

"Hey, no, I've got you a prezzie, you'll love it," Rachel said as she slipped out of her denim skirt and panties and put on her yellow bikini bottoms.

"What is it?" I asked, curious about her gift.

She rummaged inside her bag for a few seconds before taking out a beautiful blue denim bikini top.

"Here, I found it this morning I used to wear it last year, it's very comfortable, but it's a bit small for me now," she said, indicating her well developed boobs.

I took the skimpy garment, and leaned forward to hug my sweet Rachel.

"Thank-you sweetie, it's lovely," I said as I fingered the smooth material in my hand.

"I think so too and it'll look great with your shorts," she responded enthusiastically.

"But you know I can't wear it," I protested," I'll get tan lines."

"Please Josie just for a little, before the sun gets up, I so wanted to see you in it," she pleaded.

"OK, how can I resist you," I said, smiling back at her.

We quickly took off our t-shirts and folded them in a neat pile.

"I wish mine were as nice as yours," I said, as I compared my fried eggs with Rachel's beautifully well formed boobs, before tying my bikini in place.

"Don't worry, sweet," Rachel responded as she finished putting her own bikini on," I'm sure you will be soon enough, it's just, I guess we could call you a late developer, your mother's big enough isn't she?"

I nodded my assent before we walked slowly, hand in hand, down to the water's edge. We paddled for a few minutes in the sea but soon the morning low sea temperature was too much to bear and we made our way back to our belongings.

"Too cold to swim yet," I said after we had sat down.

"I fancy a bit of sun bathing, can you do my back?" asked Rachel.

A few minutes later I was rubbing the remainder of the sun protection cream to my face while Rachel lay on her towel with a contented look after my oily massage.

I leaned over to pick up my t-shirt.

"You could sunbathe too," she said.

"How could I do that?" I asked in puzzlement.

"If you undo your bikini and lie on your front you can get a complete tan without lines," she explained, smiling," and I can return your favour and do your back."

I lay forward, untied my bikini top and was soon being relaxed by Rachel's gentle massage as she rubbed in the creamy liquid. Within a few minutes the gentle stroking on my back had combined with my lack of sleep, from getting up so early in the morning, to send me off to sleep.

▲▲▲▲▲▲

I woke with a start as the sand flies buzzed around my face. I wafted them away and glanced over to see that Rachel was smiling and gently, peacefully snoozing. I looked at my watch and saw that it was nearly nine o'clock. My eyes scanned the beach to see that the place was beginning to fill up, with about twenty groups of all different shapes, sizes and ages claiming places on the sand.

The noise of seagulls caught my attention. I looked up to see many birds milling around the cliff edge where there was clearly a small colony. There seemed to be constant movement as they scavenged in the nearby car park bins for any food items before returning to their nests. Suddenly a group that were waddling across the verge scattered into the air in a mad, noisy bedlam of movement and sound. A larger, dark bird cast a brief shadow over the ground before rising on the updraft to prepare for another attack.

I wondered what sort of bird of prey it was. I knew very little of birds but I guessed it was some sort of hawk. I watched it a few times, climbing and swooping, as it unsuccessfully sought to capture a seagull. I took out the mini-binoculars that I had in my bag to try and get a better view of the bird so that I could look it up later when I got home.

Suddenly my field of view was filled with a large black car pulling up into a very isolated corner of the car park. There was something strange and unusual about the sleek, expensive looking vehicle and so I decided to continue watching it to see what sort of person would drive it.

To my surprise two large men in dark suits and sunglasses opened the doors and stood for a few moments as if checking out the immediate vicinity. Then they moved to the large boot and took out what seemed to be a very heavy carpet. The carried this, on their shoulders, to another car, much older and in much worse condition, before depositing what seemed to be something large and wriggling inside it.

Within a few seconds they had returned the carpet to the original car, one of them had sat in the second car and started the engine. To my surprise the two men then went to the back and started pushing. Slowly the old vehicle started moving forward and then, as it gathered momentum down the slope, its velocity increased.

I watched in horror as the car, now bucking as the person trapped inside desperately tried to free themselves, made its way inexorably towards the edge of the cliff.

Travelling quite fast it brushed through the restraining wooden fence flying a few yards into the air before falling rapidly.

There was a loud bang as the car hit the rocks below followed by an even louder noise of an explosion as the punctured fuel tank released fuel onto the engine. Finally the burning vehicle slid into the sea generating huge clouds of steam.

I had stood up as the car fell to its final fate and as soon as I saw the entry into the water I trained the binoculars back on the cliff. The two men were standing on the edge, having removed their sunglasses to obviously admire their handiwork.

As the last sign of the car disappeared I watched as they shook hands and made their way back to their original car. Slowly, as if nothing untoward had happened they slowly pulled away, I strained to read the plate and once I was sure of it I leant down to write it in some nearby damp sand.

"Whassup," slurred Rachel as she was dragged out of her slumbers by the commotion.

"Come on Rachel, I think some-one's been murdered!" I blurted out to my girlfriend.

---

To Be Continued...
 
End of Part 1

"Josie, you must do this, you're an eyewitness to what happened," Rachel insisted as she followed me," please promise me you'll phone." I picked up my shoulder bag and then turned to face my beautiful girlfriend. "Of course I will my sweet," I said, as I pulled her towards me kissing her tenderly, at first, and then with more passion. Eventually I broke away. "I'm sorry I'll have to dash, I'll phone you later," I said.... Eyewitness Part 2 by Alys

---

Part 2
     

"Could you pass the gravy, please Mrs Hollins?" I asked Rachel's mother after we had settled down for our evening meal.

"Here it is, Josie," she said as she held up the small china container," but I thought I'd told you to call me Christine? Mrs Hollins sounds so formal."

"Sorry Mrs Hollins..um Christine," I replied, a little unsure about being too casual, even though Christine could easily pass as my girlfriend's older sister instead of her mother.

"And Josie," said Rachel innocently.

"Yes?" I struggled to say, with a mouthful of delicious lamb chop in my mouth.

"You don't have to call me Miss Hollins either," she said with a wide grin on her face," Rachel is fine."

I finished chewing and swallowing and then poked my tongue out at her. She laughed and returned the favour.

Christine smiled indulgently and then mildly admonished us," now girls, manners at the table."

We resumed eating our sumptuous tea.

As I savoured the delicious meat and various vegetables I thought over the events of the day so far. Being a witness to the murder in the morning had shaken me to the core. It was one thing to see it in the media, on TV programmes and films, but altogether a much harsher event in real life.

We had watched for quite a while hoping to see if the person in the burning, sinking car would be rescued alive. Within a few seconds the two men in wetsuits, we had seen wind-surfing earlier, had plunged into the still steaming water but were unable to locate anyone in the tangled, hot mess of metal and plastic that had sunk to the bottom of the shallow bay.

Eventually, after the police had arrived, some men with proper diving equipment had brought out the charred remains of the poor unfortunate. At which stage both Rachel and myself had run to the toilets to be violently sick.

I paused in eating my meal as I remembered the unpleasant experience.

"Anything wrong?" asked Christine.

"Sorry I was just thinking about what happened on the beach this morning," I explained.

"It's a shocking thing really," reassured Rachel's mum," but there's nothing you can do about it. Come on and finish your food, I've got your favourite dessert for afters."

"Oh Mum, not strawberry cheese cake?!" exclaimed Rachel with enthusiasm.

"The very same," replied Christine, smiling at the both of us.

Sometimes I had to pinch myself as a reminder that this easy acceptance of me in the Hollins' family home hadn't always been the case. There had initially been significant hostility to my relationship with Rachel. However, over time, her parents had come to the conclusion their daughter's happiness was more important than any other considerations. The support from Mary, Rachel's elder sister away with her father playing in a badminton tournament, had also been very helpful.

▲▲▲▲▲▲
     
The closing music from the final programme in the latest series of Doctor Who* slowly faded on the TV screen.

"Wow I would never have worked that one out," I said to Rachel, cuddling next to me on the sofa, where we had been enjoying each others' company while Christine had gone to the railway station to collect her husband and her daughter.

"Yep, me neither," she replied," that Russell T. Davies is such a sneaky writer, fancy using the hand like that"

"Shame about Catherine Tate though," I said," I'll miss her, she was such a breath of fresh air to the series."

The advert for the next Doctor Who programme was suddenly interrupted to be replaced by the anchorwoman of the local news programme.

"This is Spotlight and we break into this evening's programmes on BBC1 to go live to a press conference being held at Plymouth Police Headquarters." she announced, before her image was replaced by that of a tubby, middle aged police inspector sitting at a table in an anonymous looking room.

On one side of him sat a young policewoman who was clearly trying to comfort a distraught woman, in her thirties, who sat at the end of the table.

".....we can confirm that the body found this morning in Wembury this morning has been positively identified as being that of Stuart Donning who worked at Rodericks Home Furnishing in Plymstock." said the policeman before pausing to look at the two women. He exchanged a glance with the other police officer who nodded in response before she moved the microphone across the table.

The crying woman looked up and then after wiping away some tears and then put out her hand to pull the mike a little towards her.

"Please...please if anyone knows what happened to my husband....to Stuart...please contact the police..please someone help me to find out.....what will Jenny and Philip say when they find out, oh god I can't do this anymore.........," she said hesitantly, her voice sounding like it was about to fail at any moment. Finally she stood up, in mid-sentence, and walked away in distress, the policewoman following.

The Inspector regained use of the microphone," Plymouth Police are now treating this death as a murder enquiry and let me reiterate Mrs Donning's appeal. This dreadful deed was committed in broad daylight, if anyone has any information please contact us, anonymously if you need to, on the number you should see on the screen now...."

Rachel quickly grabbed a pen to write down the digits that were flashing on the bottom of the screen. Then she turned the TV off with the remote control and handed me the piece of paper.

"Josie, you have to phone them and tell them what you saw," she said as she wiped away the tears in her eyes.

I sat there, similarly affected, before standing up and moving towards the entrance hall.

"I've got to go or I'll be late for work, Rachel," I said," I'll try and call later."

"Josie, you must do this, you're an eyewitness to what happened," Rachel insisted as she followed me," please promise me you'll phone."

I picked up my shoulder bag and then turned to face my beautiful girlfriend.

"Of course I will my sweet," I said, as I pulled her towards me kissing her tenderly, at first, and then with more passion. Eventually I broke away.

"I'm sorry I'll have to dash, I'll phone you later," I said and then turned to open the door.

"Josie," said Rachel softly.

"Yes?"

"I love you so much," she responded with the emotion shining in her eyes.

"I love you too, my darling Rachel," I said before stepping back to give her a last quick kiss. Then I was rushing down the pathway, while waving frantically to my sweetheart, before turning and running down the street to the bus-stop, making it with seconds to spare.

▲▲▲▲▲▲
     
Some twenty minutes later the bus pulled up at my stop near the naval base in the city which, despite the recent renovation projects in the area, still looked somewhat dilapidated. There were very few pedestrians at that time of night, since there was little residential accommodation nearby.

I had always found the almost empty streets a little frightening, although less so in the summer, so I walked quickly towards my destination and my evening of washing drink glasses and hopefully something more interesting too.

Five minutes later I was about to turn the corner into the street where the Jolly Sailor was located when I saw one of those strange sights in cities, a working payphone.

Remembering my promise to Rachel I opened the door into the all glass box and, after taking out the piece of paper crumpled in my shorts' pocket, dialled the number.

Within a few seconds I heard a bored sounding female telephone operator.

"Hello, Plymouth Police Crime Line, how can you help us?"

I hesitated before replying, not sure how to phrase my comments.

The woman at the other end was clearly annoyed by my silence.

"If you are making a nuisance call you have five seconds to hang up before I direct a duty officer to your phone box," she said angrily.

"Please wait, I know something," I blurted out.

"About what exactly?" interrogated the operator.

"I know about the murder in Wembury, I saw it," I said quickly, intimidated by the tone of the woman.

"Can I take your name, please?" she asked in a slightly more friendly way.

"I'm sorry but I can't tell you," I responded, not wanting to make my life even more complicated," but I also have the number of the car of the men who did it."

"OK, please tell me that and then I'd like you to stay on the phone for a few seconds while I put you in touch with one of the investigation team," said the operator, calmly but firmly.

I recited the number from memory, how could I forget, and then there was the sound of a few clicks.

"Hello this is Inspector Lee, the number plate details sounds like a good lead," said a deep male voice, " can you tell me what you saw?"

I gave the policeman a brief account of what I had seen on the beach, he asked me a few questions and I tried to give him as clear a picture as I remembered of the incident.

"This is very interesting, can you come down to the station to make a statement?" he asked.

I almost dropped the phone at the suggestion of exposing myself even more, I quickly thought of an excuse.

"Sorry I'm off to work and I'm late as it is," I lied.

"OK, tell me where your work is and I'll come to you," Inspector Lee countered, clearly not going to give up that easily.

I considered my options and then with a stroke of inspiration I gave the number of the pub before concluding," phone there after nine and ask for Karen, she'll know where I am."

I put the phone down quickly, before the persuasive detective could get me to do anything else that I would regret. I quickly walked towards the end of the street before turning into the lane where Plymouth's most famous gay/lesbian/transgender bar was located.

I was stopped in my tracks by the scene fifty yards in front of me.

Three tall, overweight men were standing in front of the building that was my workplace for the evening. This wasn't an unusual situation given the mainly male clientele of Saturday's events there.

The unusual aspect was the clothes the three men were wearing. Each of them had a leather jacket on with a small white armband with the letters EPP in red letters attached.

I shivered and backed into an empty doorway. The EPP (or English Popular Party - although it was not very popular and not very English having a mostly expatriate South African leadership) was a small strongly homophobic, racist group full of violent thugs.

They were obviously very drunk and were taking it in turns to harass a slim, effeminate man standing in the entrance to the Jolly Sailor.

"Come on you little queer we want a drink in your batty pub" said the fattest of the EPP armband wearers.

"I'm sorry you can't come in this is a members' only club," responded the security officer.

"And what if we want to come in anyway, girlie?" another of the thugs sniggered.

"I can't let you come in you'll upset our clientele," responded the slim, gay man.

"How you going to stop me you fucking stupid queen?" sneered the third of the drunkards.

"Everything OK there Johnnie love?" came a high pitched voice from inside, "need some help?"

"I wouldn't try anything now. You'll regret it?" warned Johnnie as he bravely faced up to the thug standing nearest him.

"And who's going to stop me then, your bumboy? What's he going to do, hit me with his handbag?" smirked the first thug as he stepped forward and punched Johnnie hard in the stomach who doubled up with the blow, yelled with the pain and fell to the floor.

"Come on boys, let's trash the batties." shouted Johnnie's assailant.

From my vantage point on the street corner I winced when Johnnie was hit even as a smile flickered across my mouth with my knowledge of the surprise in store for the homophobes.

"Actually I wouldn't want to mess my handbag up with your filth' said the high pitched voice as Johnnie's boyfriend stepped forward.

"Fuck!" exclaimed the first thug, as he looked up at probably one of the biggest men he had probably seen in his life, six foot eight and eighteen stone of solid muscle with not an ounce of fat on his magnificently toned body, moving gracefully towards them with a poise that implied great speed allied with vastly superior strength.

     
     
*A reference to the end of the latest series of Doctor Who (www.bbc.co.uk/doctorwho) broadcast first on the BBC on July 5th 2008

---

To Be Continued...
 
End of Part 2

There was a some loud applause and then the hypnotic intro to 'Can't get you out of my head' started. I danced on the stage, moving my body in rhythm to the beat while taking the mic from Karen and launching into the song. 'La..la..la.....' I began and soon everyone joined in," la...la...la..la..la...." Eyewitness Part 3 by Alys

---

Part 1
 

"Now I'm sure you'd all like to apologise to Johnie, WOULDN'T YOU?" stated Billie in his slightly incongruous, high pitched voice.

There was the sound of some mumbled comments from the three neo-fascists.

"I don't think Johnie heard that, did you love?" asked the doorman's eighteen stone, muscular boyfriend as he squeezed the throats of the two thugs he held effortlessly, hard against the wall. while pressing his foot down on the other one's shoulder.

"Sorry Johnie," was the louder reply in a ragged unison.

As I covered the final few yards toward the Jolly Sailor I marvelled at how the tableau in front of me had been transformed in a few seconds. The aggression and bravado of the racists had evaporated as soon as Billie's rapid and graceful movements had overcome their feeble opposition to his superior strength.

"Hi Johnie, you OK?" I asked as I reached the entrance, touching his shoulder gently as he stood by the door still holding his painful midriff.

"I'm ok now, I guess, thanks Josie," he replied.

"Hey Josie, you singing tonight?" asked Billie, as he turned his head to greet me while maintaining his vice like grip on Johnie's assailants.

"Yes, 'bout fifteen minutes," I replied.

"You doing my fave tonight?" Billie asked.

I smiled at the gentle giant before replying," of course I am, I know how you all love that song."

"Great, can't wait," he responded, " now, just have to sort out these wastes of space."

He turned his attention back towards his victims.

"Now you scum this is what's going to happen," Bille began, giving an extra squeeze and a stamp for emphasis," firstly you're going to put your wallets and mobiles in Johnie's nice pink bag. ANY legit cards or phones we'll post back, cash is a donation to the Jolly Sailor."

He waited for a few seconds as the three EPP members fumbled with their belongings.

"Now, drop your trousers and pants*," stated Billie forcefully.

The strangled opposition was instantly snuffed out by further squeezes and before long a little pile of clothes had been collected by Johnie.

"Now listen carefully you scum," began Billie, speaking with menace in his voice," when I let you go, you're going to walk away from here, without looking back. You're not ever coming back because if you do me and my friends will give you a good fisting. You understand?"

There were muffled sounds of assent before Billie dropped the first thug on the floor and gave him a push along the road. He was followed by the other two in quick succession and soon the three sorry looking men were waddling as quickly as they could away from the club with their hands covering their groin area.

The three of us laughed at the predicament of the humiliated members of the 'master race' before turning back into the club.

"Thanks love," said Johnie as he put his arm around his boyfriend's waist," I thought I was going to get really hurt there."

"My pleasure my darling," responded Billie giving Johnie a gentle kiss on the forehead.

"That was awesome Billie," I said," got to rush and get ready now, see you later boys," I said before walking off down the dark corridor into the slightly gloomy club.

There were already about fifty mainly male, customers present, some by the bar, some in the lounge area with a few dancing to Angela who was lip-syncing to Madonna's 'Hung Up'.

"Hey Josie," shouted Karen, the middle aged, tall, plump, cross dresser who owned the club," just in time, you got ten minutes hun."

I followed her to the back of the stage to the small changing room. I quickly stripped down to my panties and then put on my push-up bra from my bag. Karen then helped me into the tight, slinky white dress and added some extra touches to my make-up. While she completed my look I told her about my phone call to the police earlier.

"You sure you want to get involved with this hun?" she asked," you know, with all your other issues you don't really need any more complications."

"Dunno Karen, it's all a bit scary really, but I promised Rachel," I responded.

"OK, love, well you let me check him out when he phones and I'll only let him talk to you if I think it's safe," she reassured.

The Madonna songs came to an end and it was time for me to take Angela's place.

Karen walked out to stand in the spotlight.

"Thanks Angela sweetie you were wonderful," she said before she hugged the glamorous drag queen who then left to change after acknowledging the applause.

I looked out at the increasing number of shadowy shapes behind the glare while Karen began her introduction.

"...glad to see the return of our very own Josie, only the two songs again tonight, sorry," she said, pausing for a few groans to die down," but the good news is in a three months she'll be sixteen and can do more singing and less washing of glasses!"

There was some good natured shouts.

"Go Josie!"

"Ditch that washing!"

"We luv ya!"

"So here she is, let's hear it for Josie....."

There was a some loud applause and then the hypnotic intro to 'Can't get you out of my head' started.

I danced on the stage, moving my body in rhythm to the beat while taking the mic from Karen and launching into the song.

'La..la..la.....' I began and soon everyone joined in," la...la...la..la..la...."

"I just can’t get you out of my head
Boy your lovin’ is all I think about
I just can’t get you out of my head
Boy it’s more than I dare to think about, "

As I sang, I gestured to everyone in the heaving crowd in front of me.

I lost myself in the buzz of the performance as everything that had been on my mind throughout the day was blanked out.

Too soon the song finished. I stood still, a little drained, for half a second before loud applause echoed around the room.

"Thanks, hope you enjoyed that one," I said, beginning the introduction to my next song. I noticed a man, so obviously a policeman, even in civilian clothes, talking to Karen by the bar.

"Sorry I can only do one other one tonight but I'm sure you'll love it."

The weather girls backing track started up and I launched into the first verse of one of the favourites of the club's customers.

"Humidity is rising - Barometer's getting low
According to all sources, the street's the place to go
Cause tonight for the first time
Just about half-past ten
For the first time in history
It's gonna start raining men.

It's Raining Men! Hallelujah!..."

The sound of almost everyone in the club singing along to the chorus was amazing. I was really enjoying the performance and the feed back from the audience and I was even happier to notice that the busy-body policeman had already been propositioned more than once since he'd been in the club, to his obvious discomfort.

"Thanks and good night, see you all next week," I yelled, before handing the mic back to the hostess and making my way back to the changing room.

"Hugs, Josie, we'll all be counting the days to your next performance," Karen commented before she introduced the next act.

I quickly changed, hanging my dress carefully in the little wardrobe and putting the bra in my bag to give to Rachel to wash later. I made my way back to the kitchen. I was still feeling euphoric after my ten minutes on the stage and so I hardly noticed the time while I filled the industrial dishwasher with glasses and plates from the earlier meals.

"You sounded great and you looked gorgeous tonight, hun," said Karen when she came into my work area about half an hour later," I wonder if the contents of the parcels I've given you are having an effect?"

I smiled at her comment as she handed me another precious package.

"Let me do your bloods," she instructed.

I sat down on an upright chair and pulled up my sleeve on my right arm, exposing a vein. Karen, with the expertise of the twenty years in her former nursing job, quickly filled two sample bottles before pressing some cotton wool on the puncture point.

"There you go, all done, I should have the results next week," she said a minute later as I pulled down my sleeve over the smallest possible mark in my skin.

"Great, thanks Karen, I don't know how I can ever repay you for your kindness," I said.

"Pfff, don't be silly, your singing brings in more and more customers every time, it more than pays any expenses I have." she responded.

"Now listen," she continued," I've spoken to your Inspector and he seems cool so if you want to talk to him I'll being him in."

There was a pause as I considered my options.

"It's up to you, I can tell him you've already left," she reassured me.

I thought about my promise to Rachel and the image of the poor widow on the TV. I made my decision.

"I think I'd better see him, Karen, it was a horrible thing that happened," I said in a quiet voice.

"Well if you're sure, hun?" she asked.

"Yes," I responded firmly.

A few minutes later the athletic looking inspector came into the room.

He held out a hand and introduced himself," hello, I'm Inspector Lee, we spoke on the phone I believe."

"Hi," I said a little shyly, touching his hand lightly in response.

"Hey, you're Josie the girl who was singing when I came in," he said as he recognised me despite my change of clothes.

"Yes," I responded.

"You were really good," Inspector Lee complimented.

"Thanks," I said.

"OK, Josie I won't keep you long, I've uploaded the most likely suspects who fit your descriptions onto my phone," he explained," I'd like to see if you recognise anyone."

He sat next to me and quickly flicked through about thirty photos on his IPhone.

"Any of these look like the killers?" he asked.

"Yes, definitely" I said, having easily recognised the two.

"Oh," he responded, obviously a little surprised at my confidence.

He handed me the phone," can you show me?"

I quickly slid my finger over the touchscreen, bringing up the pictures of the two murderers and showing them to the Inspector.

He looked a little surprised and there was a few seconds pause before he spoke again.

"Josie these men and their associates are extremely dangerous," he said, slowly and carefully," I'm afraid you won't be able to go home tonight. We're going to have to take you to a safe house."

*pants = underpants in UK

---

To Be Continued...
 
End of Part 3

'OK, why do you have to go to a safe house?' 'Those guys I saw are psychos' 'OK, I see, let's talk tomorrow, I need to sleep now, Josie love, be safe.' 'It's OK, I'm in good hands, sleep well, Rachel sweetie.' Eyewitness Part 4 by Alys

---

Part 4
 

"Are you OK?" asked the Inspector as he drove carefully through the busy evening city traffic, "you're very quiet."

"Been a long day," I responded quietly as I sat there wondering what I had got myself into by phoning the police.

"How come?" he enquired a little absentmindedly as he negotiated his way around the busy 'Charles Cross' roundabout.

"Well, doh, I was a witness to a murder this morning, just a little stressful," I responded a little angrily, "and now you tell me I'm in danger myself and need to go to a safe house."

"Oh, yes, I'm sorry you've had a very difficult time, but believe me there was no other option after you identified the suspects," the inspector explained.

"Why's that?" I asked.

"They are extremely dangerous, their names are Jon Van Deer and Kronje VerMeel. They were members of the Afrikaner Volksfront in South Africa, they left after the fall of Apartheid and found their way to the UK via Israel," Inspector Lee stated, "they were known to be responsible for a series of racist murders."

"So why aren't they in prison?" I asked.

"They were given amnesty by the 'truth and reconciliation commission'," he explained.

"They were lucky I guess," I said, wondering what sort of commission would let murderers get away with it.

"Yes, very much so and I wasn't too surprised when you recognised them from the pictures, they are psychos. By the way Josie do you want to use my mobile to contact your mum?" he asked.

"It's OK I can use mine," I said, taking it out of my bag to show him before putting it back again.

He paused for a second and I thought I detected a smile on his face before he responded, "you're a devious girl, so the phone box was to avoid being traced in case you didn't want to get further involved?"

"Something like that," I said, smiling myself.

There was a silence between us as Inspector Lee manoeuvred into the police station car park. He switched the engine off and turned to me.

"Come on Josie, it's late and I bet you'd like to get to bed, we'll do this as quickly as possible," he said.

I followed him into the station, there seemed to be a lot of people milling around. I noticed two drunken, bloodied men, early casualties of the usual Saturday night city mayhem, being dragged in by four large policemen.

After a couple of minutes walking past 'indentik' offices Inspector Lee finally stopped, opened a door and let us into a small sparsely furnished room. A plump, middle aged woman with striking bleached blonde hair was on the phone, she acknowledged us and quickly finished her conversation.

"Yes sir as soon as possible," she said before putting the handset down.

"Was that the chief?" Inspector Lee asked.

"Yes..yes it was," the policewoman replied hesitantly, "he's under a lot of pressure. This is a high profile case after the news conference this afternoon. Who's this then Frank?"

"This is Josie, she's some important information for us," Inspector Lee replied, "Josie, meet my deputy, Sergeant Francis.

"Call me Melanie, Josie," said the policewoman, smiling, "we don't stand on ceremony here."

"Hi Melanie," I said before sitting down heavily on one of the chairs and putting my head down on my arms on the desk.

"You look exhausted, dear, I'll get some coffee, you want some Frank?" asked Sergeant Francis.

"Thanks Melanie that'd be great," he replied.

While the policewoman busied herself with the kettle, Inspector Lee logged onto his computer and downloaded the statement he had typed and emailed himself in the Jolly Sailor. Within a few seconds he had printed it on official police stationary for me to sign.

Sergeant Francis brought the refreshments over, as she put mine down on the desk I noticed the small tattoo on the top of her left breast, a circle and a cross combined, which looked strangely familiar.

She gave Inspector Lee his coffee and picked up the statement. She read it intently before commenting, "Frank you've done it!"

"It's pretty strong evidence, all we have to do is to keep Josie and her family safe for the next few days," he responded before briefly explaining the plan.

"So if you can go and pick up Josie's Mother and bring her along we can meet you there, is that OK Melanie?" he asked.

"No problem at all, see you later Frank, bye Josie," she said before leaving.

"Do you think you could phone your Mum now, Josie and tell her a policewoman will be coming round in about half an hour or so," he said.

"What can I give her as a reason?" I asked.

"Tell her.....no maybe it's better I do the explanations," he replied.

I pressed speed-dial two, one was Rachel of course, the phone was answered after five rings.

'Hello'

'Hi, Mum'

'Who is it? Is it you Phillip, why is your voice odd?'

I cringed at the sound of my male name, Inspector Lee looked at me strangely.

'Mum, I'm in a police station and there's an Inspector who wants to talk to you.'

'What have you done now, you idiot!'

I handed the mobile to Inspector Lee.

'Hello Mrs Murphy, your 'son' hasn't done anything wrong, but both of you are in danger.'

'What!'

'Please listen carefully, we are putting you and 'Phillip' into a safe house for a few days. I've just sent a policewoman to pick you up, can you be ready with a few days clothes for the two of you. I'll explain more when I see you there," he said.

My Mother gave into the natural authority of the Inspector and then rang off. I was handed the phone back.

"So, 'Phillip', I think I deserve an explanation!" he said sounding a bit annoyed, "I hope it's a good one and means I don't have to retype the statement."

I looked down at the floor trying to think what to say.

"I'm waiting 'Phillip'," Inspector Lee stated.

I was at a loss for words and then overcome by the stress of the day, and the pressure of the moment, I began to slowly sob.

"Don't cry, I'm not trying to be nasty to you, I just don't understand why you are dressed as a girl," he said in a more measured tone.

I looked up at him before slowly, deliberately taking my jacket off, then my blouse and finally my bra, "is that enough of an explanation?" I asked.

He stared at my small boobs for a few seconds before responding quietly, "I think you've made your point Josie, can you get dressed now or I'll be in trouble."

A few minutes later I was following Inspector Lee out of the busy station, with more drunken revellers arriving as we walked out.

"Josie you're going to have to sit down with your Mother tomorrow and go through your sex change issues, you should have plenty of free time over the next few days," he said, as he drove the car out of the station car park, sounding quite paternal.

"'pose so," I muttered, with my eyes half closed, I was really looking forward to laying my head on a soft pillow in a nice comfortable bed.

My phone rang, I took it out of my bag, noticed it was Rachel and answered.

'Hi Rach,'

'Hi Jose, you OK?'

'OK, but the police are taking me to a safe house, how's you?'

'OK, why do you have to go to a safe house?'

'Those guys I saw are psychos.'

'OK, I see, let's talk tomorrow, I need to sleep now, Josie love, be safe.'

'It's OK, I'm in good hands, sleep well, Rachel sweetie.'

"Was that your girlfriend?" asked the Inspector.

"Oh yes," I responded a little dreamily as I imagined Rachel in her bedroom, wishing I was there in her warm embrace.

"Does she know?" asked the Inspector, breaking through my beautiful image.

"'course she does, you think I'm that stupid!" I responded.

"Not at all...........that's funny I'm sure that car has been behind us all the way from the city centre. Oh well there's one way to find out, hang on, this could get a bit hairy."

The Inspector turned suddenly off the main road, the A379, into the suburb of Plymstock, there followed a series of quick turns down minor roads before, some minutes later, we returned to the road we had been on previously.

"Damn they're still behind us," the Inspector said, "oh well it's time for the blue light I guess, cover your ears this could get a bit noisy."

Ahead of us there was a line of stationary traffic waiting for the signals to change colour. The inspector turned on his siren and lights and like Moses parting the Red Sea, an avenue opened for us to go through while closing behind to form a barrier for our pursuers.

A few minutes Inspector Lee was still grinning with self satisfaction as he turned up towards Staddon Heights Golf Course.

"The house is on the other side of the golf course, Josie, you'll be perfectly safe there, they have armed guards and state of the art surveillance...what the hell!" he exclaimed in mid-sentence as the two cars blocking the road ahead of us turned on their full headlights, blinding us.

The bullets struck the front of the car first, with loud staccato thuds before the windscreen disappeared into a shower of blunt glass fragments.

The car veered crazily off the road before crashing into some gorse bushes and coming to a stop, throwing my body hard into the seat belt. A sharp pain went through my whole body and then the pressure was released as I fell back into the seat. I looked over to my companion. In the light from the cars ahead I could make out trickles of blood streaming down his head.

"Josie run, get out........" he mumbled, "they got me, you escape."

I looked up to see two figures silhouetted in the dazzling light making their way towards the car. I considered my options for a second and then realised that survival was my only choice. I unfastened the seat belt, slipped down into the foot well, opened the door slightly and then crawled out of the car. Luckily the side where I had been sitting had been turned away from the advancing attackers.

I made my way to the back of the car, keeping it between me and the people walking towards the car. I carefully made my way into the darkness of the golf course and lay under a bush.

"There's only the stupid pig here, she said there would be a girl too," said one voice with an obvious South African accent.

"Maybe she got it wrong," responded another South African.

"What about him?" asked the first.

"Do him," replied the second.

I watched in horror as the first gunman raised his bare arm, pointed his weapon and with three quick shots murdered the Inspector. I held my hand to my mouth to stop myself throwing up with the horror of what I was witnessing. As he turned his arm away from the dreadful deed I noticed a tattoo on his forearm.

It was the same circle and cross I had seen on the Sergeant's breast earlier! I suddenly remembered where else I had seen it. On an anti-fascist campaigning website. It was a Norse Rune, a favoured symbol of fascists, one of whom was at this moment on the way to get my Mother. I had to warn her!

The two psychopaths walked back to their cars. Once their steps were out of earshot, I got up an ran in the opposite direction for a good few minutes until I could no longer even see their headlights.

I took out my phone and pressed speed dial two. The phone rang for a while and finally was lifted up.

'Mum, mum, you've got to get out of there before the police do, they're.....'

'Too late you freak, we got here first and when we find you I might let Jon and Kronje play with you first.'

---

To Be Continued...
 
End of Part 4

I quickly stripped off my clothes, apart from my panties and bra. I slowly got up to my feet and walked with the pretence of being a bit inebriated towards the light, the rest of my clothes hanging from my hand obscuring my groin area. "Hey you guys, you seen my boyfriend, (hic)?" I said sounding as drunk as I could, " he's run off." I was almost instantly illuminated by the four nearest beams, they flashed over my body and face before lingering on my boobs. Eyewitness Part 5 by Alys

---

Part 5
 

“That stupid police bitch said it's a boy, we're looking for, not a girl,” said a guttural South African voice from the road near to where the body of Inspector Lee lay in the bullet ridden car.

I crept deeper under the gorse bush where I had fled after the attack.

“What you talking about Kronje?” asked another unpleasant sounding South African.

“It's what she said just now, Jon, when I told her about finishing off the nosey Inspector. Said she's got the mother and we'll see her tomorrow.” replied Kronje.

“Why she say a girl before then?” asked Jon.

“No idea, come on lets have another look for the little bastard,” commanded Kronje as the sound of heavy feet trampling through the undergrowth.

A few minutes later I heard my pursuers pass within ten metres and I felt my heart beating so loudly that there seemed to be no way they couldn't hear it.

For what seemed an eternity the two men blundered about in the darkness, sometimes getting closer, other times moving further away. Finally the noise of the searching receded and I closed my eyes with relief as I felt the exhaustion of the day overcoming me

**********

I woke with a start, the air was much cooler now. I shivered in the cold summer night air. In the distance I could hear some shouts so I looked up and my heart jumped in my chest at the sight before me.

There was a row of men walking towards me, each of them carrying a very powerful torch. They were walking carefully forward, systematically sweeping the space between and in front of them and examining each bush very carefully.

I felt panic rising within me. There was no way they wouldn't discover my hiding place. I wondered if they would kill me here or take me somewhere else and torture and finally kill me. I looked around desperately for some escape route.

I heard voices shouting as they co-ordinated their movements. After only a few minutes they were within earshot.

"How long do we have do this?" asked a voice I identified as Jon from earlier, from one end of the line .

"She said as long as it takes, he can't be far away," replied the voice of Kronje, from the other end.

"Let's find the little fucker soon enough," shouted an unfamiliar voice with a local accent, "I was on the last stage of GTA when you phoned."

"Get a life you arsehole, only kids play Xboxes, you should have come to the club, I had one with really juicy melons dancing, god she was hot." said another of the searchers.

"Shut up about your strippers and your stupid game, you're both getting paid enough, concentrate on finding the little shit. The bastard gave a statement." responded Kronje.

There was a chorus of profanity from the assembled thugs, meanwhile a germ of an idea formed in my head.

I quickly stripped off my clothes, apart from my panties and bra.

I slowly got up to my feet and walked with the pretence of being a bit inebriated towards the light, the rest of my clothes hanging from my hand obscuring my groin area.

"Hey you guys, you seen my boyfriend, (hic)?" I said sounding as drunk as I could, " he's run off."

I was almost instantly illuminated by the four nearest beams, they flashed over my body and face before lingering on my boobs.

I held up my hand to my eyes to indicate that I was actually dazzled

"Hey guys don't shine it in my eyes....so you seen 'im, he's tall I think and 'ad a biggun," I said with a high pitched giggle

"Fuck off home you stupid slag!" Jon shouted in his harsh South African accent

"Or you can stay here and let us do you later, I've got a biggun too," shouted another with a London accent

"Can't ssh-top got to go work 'morrow, have to get a cab.." I mumbled as I staggered slowly between them," byee boys..."

One of them followed my 'drunken' progress, every second of which I was waiting for a challenge, with his torch for a few seconds before he joined the rest of his companions who had already lost interest in me and were continuing in the careful search of the headland.

As soon as I was out of sight I stopped meandering and moved as quickly as I could towards the road.

As soon as I reached it I stopped and put the rest of my clothes on. As I did I began to shiver with nervous tension. I didn't know how I had had the presence of mind to pretend to be a drunken girl.

"Get a grip, Josie," I muttered to myself before walking down to the Inspector's bullet ridden car.

I carefully looked for my bag on the passenger side. After a few seconds I had located it and quietly pulled it out of the car.

There was a sudden gentle moan.

I looked across the car at the figure of the Inspector slumped in the driver's seat. I noticed his chest rising and falling slightly. I didn't know how he had survived Kronje's three shots to the chest at such close range but it was obvious he was still alive, even while obviously unconscious.

This new discovery made my immediate future much more complicated. Now I had not only to make sure I escaped the murderous clutches of the South African Nazis but also try and ensure Kronje didn't have another opportunity to kill Inspector Lee.

I stood back and considered the situation.

I could call the police but there was no guarantee they would arrive before Kronje, Jon and the rest of his psychopaths returned from their search.

There was no way I could drag the Inspector out of the car and carry him away. In any case moving him could possibly prove fatal if he had, as I assumed, sustained serious internal injuries from the bullets, although there didn't seem to many blood stains on his shirt, so I wondered if he had worn some sort of protection underneath it.

There seemed to be only one answer. Somehow or other I had to get the car away somewhere out of sight, but I wasn't sure how to do it.

I stood there for a few moments considering how I could move the vehicle without attracting the attention of our pursuers. A possible solution came to mind and so I moved over to the driver's side, opening the door and the side window. I released the handbrake and putting my left hand on the steering wheel, turning it to full lock, I began to push against the door frame.

The car began to very slowly move, but backwards into me!

I pushed harder using all the strength in my tired, aching body and somehow succeeded in arresting the reverse movement. I felt the pains shooting through my legs and shoulders as I resisted the natural momentum of the car.

For a few seconds there was a stalemate between my body and the force of gravity as I gathered all of my strength for one great effort, probably my last one, to change the direction of movement of the stubborn machine.

Suddenly there was a flash in the sky. I looked over to my right and to my alarm saw the lights of my pursuers' torches coming in my direction!

From somewhere I felt a burst of new energy and immediately the car yielded to my efforts and began to roll forwards and turn to the left towards the downwards slope of the hill.

I quickly jumped in the front of the car and crouched behind the steering wheel, managing to avoid touching the comatose Inspector, in the seat immediately behind me.

The car quickly accelerated the wrong way down Jennycliff Lane and I hoped there would be no traffic using it at this time of night as my unlit vehicle quietly moved along the tarmac, while I stretched to put pressure on the footbrake to moderate our speed.

Within seconds we had turned a corner and I looked around for a lane or other secluded spot as a temporary refuge. I noticed a narrow turning to my left, partly obscured by gorse bushes. I quickly manoeuvred the car into the opening and let it run for as long as it would up the slight rise in the road.

We came to a stop and I quickly secured the handbrake, while I heard the inspector make a quiet moan.

I got out of the car and looked behind me and noticed to my satisfaction we were completely hidden from the main road.

I knew there was still a great danger of the gunmen trying to find us in their cars and so I took out my phone and dialed 999.

'Which emergency service do you require?' asked a dispassionate female voice.

'Police and ambulance, quickly please," I replied.

'What's the nature of the incident?'

'I'm with Inspector Lee and he's been shot by gunmen, hurry please'

'Please be calm and tell me your name and your location, I'm alerting the police and ambulance now'

I gave the woman the details and within five minutes two police cars arrived followed closely by and Armed Police Unit and an ambulance.

For the next quarter of an hour there was a whirl of activity around me as the paramedics worked to stabilise the Inspector and then to transfer him to the ambulance, while the armed police went off to try and locate the gunmen.

The good news about the Inspector Lee was that his injuries, while serious, were unlikely to be life threatening and feeling quite positive for the first time since the ambush I gratefully got in the back of one of the police cars to continue my journey to the safe house.

The warmth of the car and the comfort of the blanket wrapped around me soon started to induce drowsiness and I was almost asleep when I heard the sound of my phone and felt it's vibration indicating a message.

I clicked it on and noticed I had received a new mms, I clicked to accept it and watched the slider indicate it downloading.

The file opened and I saw the face of my Mother, squinting under what must have been the glare of the camera's lights. She had what looked like a noose around her head.

"Phillip, they're going to kill me unless you contact them by noon."

---

To Be Continued...
 
End of Part 5

My girlfriend turned to look at me, "So 'fess, Josie, how'd you end up here last night and why're you so, well how do I say....." "Looking such a mess?" I ventured, to complete Rachel's sentence. "Yep, 'fraid so, so what happened?" she asked. Eyewitness Part 6 by Alys

---

Part 6
 

"Hello," said a very sleepy low voice, after the phone had rung for a long time.

"Karen? It's me," I said softly into the phone held close to my ear, as I pulled the sheet tighter over my head, trying not to disturb the two other girls sharing the bedroom in the safe house.

"Who's this, you know what time it is?" Karen responded.

I looked guiltily at the display on my watch, it read three-twenty, "Karen, it's Josie, I'm so sorry 'bout the time,"

"'S'oreit hun, what's up?" said Karen, sounding a little more awake.

"I'm in big trouble Karen," I explained, trying to avoid my voice wavering too much with my fear.

There was a pause and the sound of a cigarette lighter being clicked, "OK, love, don't worry just tell me what the problem is."

I hesitated, not knowing where to start with my tale of woe.

Karen seemed to sense my uncertainty and spoke reassuringly, "Just take your time, Josie, or at least as long as it takes for me to finish this fag."

There was a few more seconds of the sounds of Karen smoking

"Mum's been kidnapped!" I blurted out.

"What? Did you say kidnapped?" asked the voice at the other end of the call.

"Yes, it's all my fault I called her too late, they got to her, it was that racist policewoman, what am I going.........." I responded in almost a pure stream of consciousness as the stress and tiredness of the last twenty hours threatened to overwhelm me.

"Whow, slow down, hun, tell me what happened, one thing at a time," said Karen, "was it that cop who came to see you, I thought he was a bit flaky."

"No, it wasn't Inspector Lee, they tried to kill him, it was his deputy, she's a Nazi," I explained before giving Karen a precis of the events since I'd left her in the club, earlier.

"Umm, that is some complicated situation you're in," responded Karen before pausing.

I heard the sound of a lighter being flicked on before Karen continued," sorry, love, had to light another cancer stick. Dunno what me Mum will think, I told her I was quitting last month."

"Sorry," I mumbled.

"Don't worry yourself, me dear, 's'not your fault if some psychotic fascists have infiltrated the 'fine Plymouth constabulary'." reassured Karen with a strong sarcastic tone in her voice.

I lay with the phone against my ear, not sure how to respond to Karen's comments.

"Listen love, I'm getting the germ of an idea, let me make a few calls and I'll see what we can do," she said after about half a minute of silence, punctuated by the sound of her drawing on her cigarette.

"OK," I said.

"Now can you send the bastards a text saying you'll meet them in the Sainsbury's car-park, you know the big one near the Novotel," she directed, "by the way, you know anyone your Mum might know well enough to jump straight into the car with them without question?"

"Not sure.......oh yes, she knows my girlfriend's Dad," I whispered back.

"Great, you contact them as well to meet us in the car-park, if they can, and then get some sleep, Josie hun," Karen said

"Good night Karen, and thanks," I said.

"No problem, dear, I'll call you at ten, night." Karen responded before disconnecting.

********************

I slept fitfully for the next few hours. I would drop off for a while but then be plagued with dreams of my trauma on the shore land and the attempted murder of Inspector Lee. Then I would wake up and lie there thinking about how I could possibly get my Mother from the kidnappers. I also was worried if my hidden transition was about to be exposed. The fascist policewoman must have worked it out after seeing me in 'girl-mode' in the police-station. My other concern was the need to possibly put Rachel and her Dad in danger.

Eventually at about seven I slipped out of my bed, picked up my clothes, phone and purse and made my way quietly out of the large bedroom.

I stood on the landing for a few seconds getting my bearings. The large, detached Edwardian town house was eerily quiet and quite dark even though the early morning sun was shining brightly through the uncurtained bay window directly opposite me.

I looked around and eventually found the bathroom. The bath was old with the enamel worn in places around the edges but at least it was clean. I turned the stiff taps, filled the tub, added some of the contents of a cheap looking bottle of bath oil, checked the temperature, took off the rather large nightdress I'd been lent and then slowly eased myself into the hot water.

Soon the heat of the covering liquid, along with my physical and mental tiredness, was inducing sleep. I felt my eyes closing and I began to slide down into a more comfortable position.

A few moments later I got a mouthful of water. I spat out the soapy liquid and sat up with a start.

"What was I thinking?" I said aloud to myself, "Come on Josie, get a grip, Mum's depending on you."

I washed myself as quickly as I could, got out of the bath, dried myself using one of the threadbare towels and then dressed in my rather grubby clothes. I left the bathroom made my way downstairs to the large kitchen and to look around for something to make for breakfast.

************************

Just over an hour later I was waiting in the cool of the morning outside the main door of the safe house. I had managed to persuade the WPC on duty that I would be safe in the care of my girlfriend's family, without mentioning the contact I had had with my Mother's kidnappers. She had agreed reluctantly to let me leave on the condition I called in every few hours with my whereabouts.

"Hi Sweetie," said Rachel through the open passenger door window o her green family car, "get in."

I quickly opened the back door.

"Hello Mr Hollins, thanks for coming to pick me up," I said to the Rachel's tall athletic father sitting in the driver's seat.

"My pleasure Josie," he replied, before putting the car into gear and heading off.

My girlfriend turned to look at me, "So 'fess, Josie, how'd you end up here last night and why're you so, well how do I say....."

"Looking such a mess?" I ventured, to complete Rachel's sentence.

"Yep, 'fraid so, so what happened?" she asked.

I quickly gave her and her father an outline of the previous evening's events after I left them to go to work. By the time I had finished Mr Hollins was pulling into the drive of their house.

"That's a terrible experience Josie," he said as he turned off the car and turned to look at me in the back of his car, "I'm so sorry to hear about your Mum."

While he was talking Rachel got out of her seat in the front of the car and sat next to me in the back, putting her arms around me, while she gently stroked my hair. The warmth of her body next to mine and the sweetness of her perfume slowly began to dissolve the mental and physical numbness.

"My sweet girl, what a horrible night you had," she said in a soothing tone as she used her forefinger to gently trace the outline of my face.

"Rachel," said Mr Hollins, after he had got out of the car in the front and walked round to open the rear passenger door, "why don't you take Josie up to your room and find her a change of clothes. When everyone else is up we can all sit down and see how we could help her get her Mum back."

*********************

Four hours later I was standing on the edge of the Car park in Sainsburys listening to a nearby clock striking noon. My phone rang. I let it ring for a couple of seconds before summoning up enough courage to answer it.

"Hello'" I said a little timidly.

"Are you there yet you stupid fucker," replied the voice I recognised as belonging to the psychotic South African murderers, Kronje.

"Yes, near the entrance off Plymouth road."

"Don't move, we're pulling in now."

I moved behind a large tree as I watched a large BMW with blacked out windows pulling off the main road into the car park.

"I see you, stop where you are," I said as firmly as I could trying to stop my trembling hands from dropping the phone.

"What do you mean you little fuck, we're giving the orders here, you want your bitch of a mother with a hole in her head?" Kronje almost spat down the phone.

"You have to let her out of the car..... before I..I..I.. show myself," I responded with my fear beginning to induce a stutter.

"No way you stupid wank!" shouted Kronje, "I'll shoot the stupid cow myself if you don't come out of hiding."

"N..N..N...No."

I heard the sound of a shouted argument in the background as I waited for a response to what must have been rather an unexpected defiance on my behalf.

".....we don't need her......let's shoot her anyway.....we need the boy..remember the statement Kronje......let her go then........."

Suddenly the back door of the BMW opened and my Mother, looking a little disheveled, was pushed out.

"OK you fucking idiot we've wasted enough time, you can see your precious Mother, but she'll be dead in ten seconds if you don't show yourself."

I moved from behind the tree and waved an arm, "I'm a..a.ahead of y..y..you by the recycling containers."

"Don't move," was Kronje's brief reply before the BMW's rear door

The next few seconds seemed to pass in slow motion as the plan Karen, myself and the Hollins family was put into operation.

As soon as the BMW had moved away Mr Hollins with Rachel pulled up alongside my Mother. I had been very unsure about my girlfriend being put in danger but there had been no other alternative since Mum hadn't met anyone else of the Hollins' family.

The few seconds it took for my Mother to get into the car and for it to turn and leave the car park seemed an eternity as the BMW rapidly closed the distance between where it had originally stopped to where I was standing.

"Get in pfutseke*," shouted Kronje as his ugly head poked itself out of the passenger window of the BMW which was slowing to a stop some ten metres in front of me.

"I don't think so," I said as I turned and ran through the concealed pedestrian exit from the car park and jumped into Karen's car that had just pulled into the bus-stop.

"Let's go!!" I shouted.

She eased the car forward and tried to enter the stream of traffic.

"Oh fuck, there's no gap." she gasped.

I looked back to see Kronje run out onto the pavement, stop look around and then appraising the situation, notice the car and quickly draw his gun.

"Billie he's going to shoot!" I screamed at Karen's employee sitting in the back seat, "get down."

"I don't think so," he said with a laugh, "anyone for cricket?"

With unbelievable grace and speed for someone his size Billie put his arm out of the window and hurled two hard red objects, in quick succession, at the tall South African.

The two cricket balls struck their target with a noise we could hear from twenty metres away. The first on hit Kronje in the stomach causing him to begin to double up and drop his gun, the second struck him square on the temple. He fell to the ground, stunned by the attack.

At last there was a gap in the traffic and Karen pulled away from the immediate threat.

"I knew all that practice for the Jolly Sailor cricket team would come in handy," commented Billie in his incongruous high pitched voice a few minutes later as we sped along the Plymouth road.

"Did you ever play a game?" I asked.

"No, more's the pity," he replied.

"No other clubs wanted to play a team of poofs," commented Karen acidly.

*********************

Less than an hour later we were all assembled in the Hollins family sitting room drinking some reviving tea with some very tasty home made scones and jam.

Luckily for me my Mother was still to dazed by her experience to ask why her son was wearing clothes that could be considered androgynous at best at a cursory glance and clearly over the line towards femininity on closer inspection.

Karen in her smart drab outfit was very much the suave businessman while Billie swapped gym experiences with Rachel's sporty sister.

There had been some general discussion about what to do next while we had waited for refreshments but no-one had made any serious suggestions. It was clear we were all keen to relax for a while after the tension and stress of our rescue mission.

Karen's phone rang.

"Excuse me," she said as she made her way to the hall to take the call.

I was just finishing off the last mouthful of my scone when she returned.

Her face was white.

"Something wrong? Who was on the phone?" I asked.

She paused for a moment for replying.

"It was Johnie. The Jolly Sailor....it's on fire!"

*South African slang for a mongrel dog

---

To Be Continued...
 
End of Part 6

Suddenly I smelt the most beautiful perfume, I noticed it was coming from the little white object in Bella's hand, somehow I gained some strength from the wondrous odour. I reached over and grabbed the pill from my crew mate, and popped it into my mouth, I felt the pains receding, but it was a brief respite. "Hey what are you doing, that's my contraceptive pill?" asked Bella in surprise Gift of the Red Planet - Part 1 by Alys

---

Part 1
 

Someone was shaking my shoulder.

"Alex, wake up," said a familiar voice, which I couldn't place.

"Leave alone..want sleep," I mumbled, I felt so tired and lethargic. I fought against the efforts to rouse me and shifted my body to find a more comfortable position to escape back to slumber.

I felt a sharp pain in my arm and heard the hiss of a hypodermic as something was injected into me. My head cleared enough from the dose of adrenalin to recognise the black haired, delicate, Asian face of Yuki Chan. She had a very worried look in her dark brown eyes.

"Yuki, whassup?" I slurred, the plastic pipe in my mouth, carrying my essential oxygen, making clear speech difficult.

"How do you feel," she asked.

"Like..death warmed up, and soon..be death nice and cold" I rambled in reply.

"I'm sorry," she said," listen there's going to be a phone call for you and we have to get you ready"

"Mom?" I asked, hoping for the miracle that had kept me clinging to life since the final stages of the mysterious illness had hit me.

"No, it's the President," Yuki explained, deflating my hopes.

"The President?" I enquired, " Mars Corps?"

"No, it's not Mars Corps, it's The United States President, you know, President Hassam," she replied.

"Tell him...get lost," I mumbled, breathlessly" ..not talking to...murdering bastard"

"Alex, you've got too, it's a live feed to all the networks," Yuki urged," and he's recording it to use in his campaign ads"

"Please Alex," pleaded another voice from the other side of my bed, " control says you have to take the call, it's due in twenty minutes"

I painfully rolled my wizened body a little and turned my face to look up at the beautiful honey skinned face of Bella Itani. I noticed the fear in her beautiful green eyes.

"Why, Bella?" I asked.

"I'm sorry to have to have to ask you to do this, especially after what he did last week, but....." she started to explain, before putting her mouth close to my ear to whisper," they threatened to cut off the air supply if we couldn't get you to talk to President Hassam. To think I voted for the slimeball in 2016"

"OK," I mouthed, however much I hated Hassam for ordering the missile attack on the Pot Noodle factory in my hometown of Crumlin I couldn't let my fellow crew members be asphyxiated.

"Thanks," responded Bella.

The two women took my shoulders and carefully pulled me up the bed until I was sitting up. Each movement of my body meant sharp needles of pain radiating out of every joint. Bella noticed the effect on me and increased the flow rate of my pain meds.

Yuki draped my now oversized Mars Corps jacket over me and placed my uniform cap on my head. Bella brought the bed table up towards me and set up the camjector phone.

Without warning the three dimensional disembodied head of Fred Hollis, Mars Corps missions CEO, materialised above the camjector.

"Hey Alex, how are you doing?" he boomed with complete insincerity," thanks for doing this, son. It's a sort of quid quo pro for Hassam, so you put on a good show now boy and we get next year's appropriations."

I stared at his corpulent features, the result of way too many corporate lunches, and wondered when the last trace of common humanity and decency had departed from his conscience.

"Need anything now, before I hang up?" he asked, pausing for half a second," no, I guess you're well cared for by Bella and Yuki, you lucky bugger having a couple of lovelies like that to look after you."

He gave me a suggestive wink and then closed his connection. The nausea that overwhelmed after the distasteful interaction almost took my mind of my general body pain for a few moments.

I drifted into semi consciousness until I was revived by another adrenalin shot.

"Alex," said Yuki, softly, "it's time for the call from the President"

A well groomed head appeared above my bed tray.

"Hello Alex, you're live on the Frank Worris election 2020 show and I have President Hassam taking time from his busy schedule to talk to you," oozed the oily presenter.

The presidential campaign music came over the camjector and the 3D image of Frank Worris's head was replaced by that of President Ali Hassam.

"Alex, it's an honour to be able to speak to you at last and to be able to congratulate you and your crew on your successful mission to Mars" said the Aramco funded President, "I trust that you are feeling better now?"

I nodded my head according to the instructions that I had been given.

"That's really good news, son," said the President," at last the great medical team at Mars Corps seemed to have found the answer to Martian Plague. Let me tell you Alex that I shared the grief of the whole nation at the news of the tragic deaths of your crew mates Captain John Sanders and Commander George Jerson from this mysterious illness that all of you men developed on your return"

I nodded my head again.

"Sorry, I would love to stay and chat but I have a country to run and an election to fight. God bless you Alex and give you strength," commented Hassam.

I smiled and I noticed the President turning away to talk to someone on his right. I caught the words, ' you got enough? do we need another take?", before the connection was terminated.

The strain of the phone call along with my mounting anger at having to interact with the man who had probably caused the death of my family caused me to slip back into oblivion.

Some time later, something dragged me back. I opened my eyes, it was dark in the room apart from a side light where Bella was sitting, next to my bed.

Suddenly I smelt the most beautiful perfume, I noticed it was coming from the little white object in Bella's hand, somehow I gained some strength from the wondrous odour.

I reached over and grabbed the pill from my crew mate, and popped it into my mouth, I felt the pains receding, but it was a brief respite.

"Hey what are you doing, that's my contraceptive pill?" asked Bella in surprise.

"Need more," I croaked, as the attenuated perfume coming from the packet in her other hand assaulted my senses.

"Give him your packet, Bella, quick" said Yuki," it seems to be helping him,

Bella handed me the half full blister pack, I quickly stuffed them down, the relief from pain was unbelievable. I sat up, unaided, and took the oxygen tube out of my mouth.

"What's happened Alex?" asked Yuki.

"Whatever was in the pills have made a huge difference, " I replied, "what was in them?"

"There's just standard low dose contraceptives, " answered Bella, "combination estrogen and progesterone"

"We'd better relay this to control, maybe they'll have some ideas about how to take this treatment forward," said Yuki, before leaving the medical room for the main communications area.

"Bella, do you have any other packets?" I asked after a few minutes of sitting and marvelling at the experience of being pain free for the first time in weeks.

"Why?" asked Bella.

"I can feel the pain beginning to return," I explained.

"OK, " she responded, " I think I have some more in my room, I'll fetch them"

By the time Bella had returned with some extra packets of contraceptive pills I had been forced, by my returning breathlessness, to return the oxygen tube to my mouth.

She quickly handed me the pills from the packets and once again my symptoms were alleviated.

Yuki, burst into the room, carrying some syringes.

"What did they say?" asked Bella.

"They told me to try some Depo-Provera, so I injected some of the mice that we infected with your blood and they seemed to make an instant recovery," Yuki responded.

"It's a risk though, Yuki," cautioned Bella," we can't know what the long term effects might be"

"What's the alternative, Bella," asked Yuki, " without trying some different treatments Alex will be dead in less than a day, look at how quickly the others went"

"Just do it," I said, "what have I got to lose"

Yuki gave me the injection and as the hormones coursed into my body I felt an almost miraculous improvement. I stretched my arms and turned my body to put my legs on the floor.

"How do you feel?" asked Yuki, concerned.

"Hungry," I replied, laughing.

Some hours later, after my fourth steak and fifth bowl of pasta I felt the hunger pangs receding.

"I don't know how you managed to put all that away," marvelled Bella, as she cleaned away my plates from the dining table in the middle of our crew room.

"How are you feeling now?" asked Yuki," do you need another shot?"

I stood up and stretched. So far there had been no return of the pains, which had disappeared completely after the first three injections.

"I feel great, I've not felt this good for ages," I replied," although there does seem to be a strange metallic smell in the room"

"I can't smell anything," said Bella, looking puzzled, "what sort of metallic smell, something overheating you think"

"No, it's not something specific, it seems to be a general thing, all around the room," I explained.

"Maybe you should sit down a bit, it could be a side effect of the Depo-Provera," suggested Yuki.

I moved back towards the sofa. Before I could make the sanctuary of the soft cushions I was overwhelmed by the strangest smells and tastes and the feeling of falling.

My last memory before everything went black was the shocked look on the faces of Yuki and Bella.

---

To Be Continued...
 
End of Part 1

"That's amazing, is it from Earth?" I asked. "We don't think so," she replied. "So did we find it then, life on Mars?" I asked Gift of The Red Planet - 2 by Alys

---

Part 1
 

I was in a dark place, the only thing impinging on my sight was a diffuse redness.

There were no sounds except a soft hum, no sensations but the feeling of a very slight vibration.

I opened my eyes.

The diffuse light that had previously penetrated my eyelids was replaced by a startling brightness, pouring in through a window on the right.

I turned my head toward the source of the illumination and then looked around to gain some clues about my surroundings.

It was a personal cubicle, too small to be considered a room, with a bed on one length of the rectangular space and a sliding door on the opposite side. Cupboards and shelves were cleverly located and the final part was a tiny wardrobe space with a few coveralls stored there.

I read the label on one of the work outfits,

Alex Dupre
Mars Corps

I wondered why I was in Alex's cabin.

A sudden thought struck me 'I had been on Mars'

Some memories flashed into my consciousness. The excitement of the departure from Mars Corps Space Station 2, the tedium and restrictions of the six month journey and then the euphoria of finally landing on the planet.

But I wasn't on Mars now. The brightness and colour of the light entering the room from outside was testament to that.

I raised myself, pushing the sheet away, my large, firm breasts swaying with the sudden movement, somehow an unexpected sensation. I sat on the bed while I tried to recall the memory of arriving at wherever I was now.

I had a feeling that somehow there was a discontinuity in my life, some recent development that was a rupture in the proper sequence of events. I reached my right hand under my thin, cotton, vest to absent-mindedly caress my left nipple with my forefinger. I gently squeezed the surrounding tissue as I tried to reach back into my mind for the lost information.

More memories returned. The wonder of the stay on Mars, the once in a lifetime experience that had become monotony after a few weeks of staring at the same, red dust coated, rocks, day after day. The disappointment of finding no signs of life in the Valles Marineris canyon, the relief at the final departure.

I felt my nipple harden as the touch began to arouse me. There was something that was strange about the pleasant feelings I was giving myself, but I didn't know what was wrong about it.

Something else that was strange was the illness that overcame John and George a few days after we had finally landed at Nellis air force base and had then been transported, without opening the hatches, to the Mars Corps site in the Mojave desert, where our crew module had been attached to a much larger living quarters while maintaining the air seal.

So now I knew, I was on Earth, but I didn't remember how the other crew members were. I stood up and reached for one of Alex's coveralls, I wondered why I had no memory of him while I clearly recalled Yuki, Bella and the two other men.

The clothes fitted poorly, being, not surprisingly, tight at the hips and chest but too long in the legs. I rolled up the trouser part of the coverall until I could move comfortably. I decided that any answers to my other questions would be best found in the rest of the complex.

I slid the door back and was surprised to see Yuki and Bella rushing down the corridor towards me,

"Alex, are you alright?" asked Bella, "we saw your increased heart rate on the remote monitor and wondered if you had woken"

"I'm fine," I responded and then realising how she had addressed me added, "but why did you call me Alex?"

"Don't be silly Alex, it's your name......well it was before..," responded Yuki before suddenly being at a loss for words.

"It's my name?" I asked, "..before..before what? I don't understand"

Bella put her hand to her mouth and said, "before you changed, Alex, into a woman"

The final lost memories flooded back, washing over my fragile identity. I had been a man, but now I evidently wasn't. Suddenly that was too much of a concept for my mind to process and a wave of blackness overcame me and I felt myself falling but being caught before I could hit anything hard.

Awareness returned, I opened my eyes to see the concerned faces of Yuki and Bella.

"Welcome back, ," said Bella.

"How long was I out?" I asked.

"Just now, only a few minutes, but before for a week," replied Yuki.

"What happened before," I asked.

"Your heart rate slowed to less than ten beats a minutes and your pulse to about twenty and you slowly changed," replied Bella.

"How much did I change, I can see and feel some obvious differences," I said.

There was a pause, then Bella smiled and replied, "Alex you're now a woman, completely and in every way."

"How?" I asked

"We really have no idea," replied Yuki.

"We did do some experiments with the mice though," commented Bella.

"What happened?" I asked, scientific curiosity temporarily taking over from a further consideration of my own life altering changes.

"The results were very variable," she responded, " we injected your blood into a group of male mice, of varying ages. But only some of them responded, those that did either changed quickly or they died."

"Which ones died?" I asked, curious about the effects of the infectious agent, whatever it was.

"The pattern of the response of the affected males was consistent. All the mature male ones died, there was no immediate effect on the immature ones while mice on the cusp of maturity changed into complete females, in fact two of them have been successfully impregnated already by the unaffected males," detailed Yuki.

"Mars Command to Mars Crew Complex, Mars Command to Mars Crew complex, requesting status report on crewman Alex Dupre," came the command over the tannoy.

"I'd better go and report in," said Bella, "I'll be back in a few minutes"

Bella left Yuki and me in the cabin while she returned to the comms desk.

"Listen, Alex," she said, with an anxious look on her face," I need to tell you something"

"What's wrong, Yuki?" I asked, sitting back up on my bed, wondering what could be worse than waking up to find that your gender had been altered.

"They don't know yet," she answered mysteriously.

"Don't know what, yet?" I asked.

"About you turning into a woman," she stated, bluntly.

"Why and how?" I asked, wondering what I had missed from the earlier conversation, why would Bella and Yuki not have informed Mars Corps about my medical developments.

"We found the infectious agent," she answered cryptically.

"That's amazing, is it from Earth?" I asked.

"We don't think so," she replied.

"So did we find it then, life on Mars?" I asked, getting excited at the prospect of being one of the discoverers of the first extra-terrestrial life form, without thinking about the implications of my gender change.

"Alex, by the way you need to think of a female name, it feels strange to still be using your male one," said Yuki, smiling, before resuming her serious countenance and continuing, " it's everywhere, the infectious agent"

"What do you mean everywhere?" I asked, " and I'm not sure that worrying about a new name is one of my priorities at the moment"

"In you, in your blood in high concentrations, in the bodies of the other two and also in Bella and myself, although at much lower levels, I guess we are just carriers," Yuki explained, before flicking her Chrono Personal Assistant open and showing me slides of the blood samples.

"What about Alexa?" she suggested after I had finished staring with amazement at the foldaway screen on Yuki's CPA showing the tiny red virus like organisms that appeared responsible for deaths of my crew mates and also for my incredible physical transformation.

"Is that a new name?" asked Bella, walking into the cabin and looking at me.

"It's as good as any, I guess," I responded, "what did you tell Control and what did they say?"

"I told them that you were almost conscious and appeared to be recovering slowly from the illness," she replied.

"Guys, I really don't get all this secrecy?" I asked, still trying to understand the reasons behind Yuki and Bella's subterfuge.

Yuki looked knowingly at Bella and then responded, "I guess this is a lot for you to comprehend at once, while we have had a week to look at all the possibilities"

"After we saw the results in the mice," added Bella," it seemed clear to us what the response of Mars Corps would be if they realised exactly what had happened to you, especially when they found out that there is an infectious agent, which I'm not sure if Yuki has explained is all pervasive in the complex"

"Surely they would carry on isolating us?" I said, inquiringly.

"Show her, Yuki," responded Bella.

Yuki unfolded the screen on her CPA and with a few flicks of her fingers on it brought up a document, "I found this in a secret, concealed data-store, look what it says"

I stared at the black letters on the light red background and swallowed nervously as I read the threatening title.

Post Mars Mission Extra-terrestrial Infections - Euthanasia and Sterilisation Protocols.

---

To Be Continued...
 
End of Part 2

"....so how stacked is she then?" asked Fred Hollis, making my skin crawl with his lascivious tone. "See for your youself," replied Bella, indicating to me to sit down next to her, " here she is" Gift Of The Red Planet - Part 3 by Alys

---

Part 3
 

I looked at the faces of my crew mates and then back at the screen of CPA, on Yuki's wrist, to re-read the title of the secret document.

Post Mars Mission Extraterrestial Infections - Euthanasia and Sterilisation Protocols.

"Euthanasia? Since we didn't take any animals with us am I reading the right meaning into the word?" I asked my two companions, shocked at the implications.

"Yup, you got it right" responded Bella," it's us they're referring to"

"There's even a consideration of the best methods of bumping us off," added Yuki.

I opened my mouth to question Yuki, my curiosity overcoming my disgust.

"Before you ask," interjected Bella, before I could formulate the words, " it's gas while we're sleeping"

I sat back on my bed and put my head in my hands. Suddenly I felt totally overwhelmed. It was less than an hour since I had woken from my near death illness but I was now having to deal with the loss of my manhood and the prospect of possibly losing my life.

Suddenly a wave of despair hit me and I began to cry.

"Are you OK?" asked Bella.

"What do you think, Bella?," I asked, looking up at her, as the tears rolled down my cheeks, " I'm beginning to wish you'd never managed to save me, it would have been better for everyone"

Yuki sat down next to me and put her arm around my shoulders. She took a little pink rimmed handkerchief out of her pocket and dried my cheeks. I felt comforted by the touch.

"It's OK Alexa, sweetie, we'll think of a way out," she said.

"I hope so, Yuki," I responded, " what's with the sweetie by the way?"

"Oh yes, there was something else we forgot to tell you about your change," said Bella.

I looked at her raising my eyes in a query. She explained that one of the other effects of the change, however it happened, was to have given me a female body in prime physical condition, she estimated that I had a chronological age of about eighteen, almost young enough to be a daughter of my companions, both in their early thirties.

Somehow this latest revelation, although the least important one, was a little too much to bear and I lay down and asked Yuki and Bella to leave me to rest for a while. I soon fell into a sleep full of dreams about Mars, mice and gas chambers.

The re-entry to Earth was much bumpier than I expected, my whole body was moving violently as our spaceship slammed into the atmosphere. I felt a hand on my shoulder reassuring me but also shaking me.

"Wake up Alexa," came a familiar voice.

I opened my eyes and realised that the space entry had just been a dream. I looked up at Yuki, who seemed very agitated by something.

"Whassup Yuki?" I slurred as I slowly regained awareness.

"Sorry, I had to wake you," she replied," you looked so peaceful there, but Mars Command are insisting on seeing you. We couldn't stall anymore"

"Why?" I asked, " what happened?"

"They worked out that you had been awake from their own monitoring of your vitals," Yuki explained.

"What did you tell them about, you know, my changes?" I asked.

"As little as we could, but they know that you've had a gender change and that your body seems fit and healthy," she replied," but I didn't tell them about the effects on the mice, or that we had discovered the infectious agent. We need to keep that from them as long as possible"

"OK, " I replied as I rose and followed Yuki to the meeting. I wondered how long we could keep them from finding out the deadly nature of the strange organism that had somehow hitched a ride from Mars on our spaceship.

A minute or so later we entered the medium sized room that was the main work and living area in our module. Bella was already sitting on a small sofa at one end of the room. In front of her a camjector showed the disembodied 3D heads of Fred Hollis, Mars Corps CEO, Andrew Bacill, Chief Mission Scientist and a young woman who I didn't recognise. They were in the middle of a conversation.

"....so how stacked is she then?" asked Fred Hollis, making my skin crawl with his lascivious tone.

"See for your youself," replied Bella, indicating to me to sit down next to her " here she is"

I sat down and Yuki joined me on the sofa. I felt strangely protected sitting in between the two of them.

"Hello Fred, hello Andrew," I said in a surprisingly breathy tone, " sorry Miss I don't know your name"

The two men stared at me and I thought that their eye would pop out as their eyes wandered over the full body 3D image that their more powerful equipment was capable of rendering.

"Hello, Alexa, is that right?" asked the strange woman.

I nodded to affirm my new name.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, " she continued, smiling " I'm Doctor Williams, I'm a psychiatrist, dealing mainly with individuals suffering from Gender Dysphoria"

"What's Gender Dosphoria?" I asked, not completely sure how to completely pronounce the word.

Before Doctor Williams could reply the obnoxious pig, otherwise known as the Mars Corps CEO, recovered his senses and interrupted, " no time for 'her' therapy at the moment, Jean," he said, strangely emphasising the 'her', " there are more pressing matters in hand"

"What's that," asked the obviously irritated doctor.

"Don't you see it?" he asked, "I'm sure that you'll agree with me Andrew"

"What about Fred?" responded the scientist.

"The photo shot! Can't you see the magazine features now, think of the rave publicity for Mars Corps!" Hollis almost shouted in reply, " Hassam will be throwing appropriations at us for a chance to use this gorgeous creature on his campaign trail"

"But Fred, we couldn't possibly allow that... we have no idea about what caused the gender change, we need time for a proper investigation, what about the safety implications if whatever caused this is infectious...." protested Andrew Bacill.

"Andrew, we don't have time for this now," interrupted Hollis," the appropriations committee meets next week and are after huge cuts and my head on a platter for not finding life on Mars. When they see the pictures of our glamorous Mars babe those crusty old codgers will be creaming their pants"

"But Mr Hollis you can't subject poor Alexa to such stress, who knows what state of mind she is in after such changes, you could cause permanent, irreparable damage to her mental health," objected Doctor Williams, "I will need time to assess her properly"

"Hey son, what do you think about doing a centrefold?" asked Hollis, looking at me, oblivious to the objections of his chief scientist and the psychiatrist, " Playboy would pay hundreds of millions, I'm sure we could work out a good deal, say 95-5? We'd have to take the lion's share of course because this change happened while you were employed by Mars Corps"

"Um, um, I don't know," I responded completely bewildered by the unexpected turn of events.

"OK, that's settled then," he continued, " I'll look forward to seeing your lovely rack in the next issue, I'll leave you now with these two to sort out the details of the photoshoots"

The scientist and the psychiatrist looked at each other in complete bemusement at the outburst of the Mars Corps CEO.

The head of Hollis disappeared as he moved out of range of the camera but his voice was clear and distinct as he stated, forgetting that we could hear every word," I want that photo-shoot tomorrow, Fred, and pictures of the thing's tits on my desk the day after, understood?"

There was an abrupt silence as Hollis obviously left the room in the command centre and everyone else remaining sat looking stunned by the nature of the 'discussion'.

"No way!," shouted Bella, finding her voice at last, " we're not animals to be put on display and then to be callously disposed of when we are of no further use"

I squeezed her hand and when she turned towards me I looked at her intently for a brief moment, raising my eyebrows to remind her that we were in exactly the situation that she had just described.

"How are we going to do this?" I asked Andrew and Jean, after turning to face their disembodied heads.

"Are you sure?" asked Jean.

"We could delay everything, you know," said Andrew, "I have the ultimate decision over science issues on the programme, despite what Fred thinks, since he has no scientific training"

"Yes, I appreciate that," I responded, "but I feel that if we can go along with whatever he needs at the moment to save the programme then I'm prepared to help, however much a misanthrope he is"

The conversation continued for a while as we worked out the details of how a photo shoot team could come into our complex and the need for them to be wearing pressure suits. After agreeing a sensible time for the visit we terminated the discussion.

We all looked at each other in astonishment when the meeting was over. Yuki stood and indicated for us to follow her.

A few minutes later we were crowded into her cubicle. Safely out of monitoring range.

"Why did you agree to the bastard's idea?" she asked, looking at me.

"To be honest, I'm not sure what was going on there and I really don't know why he was so keen to have photos taken of me, but it seemed a good idea to gain time," I replied.

Yuki and Bella exchanged strange glances.

"Alexa have you looked in a mirror yet?" Bella eventually asked.

"Why?" I responded, puzzled.

"You've no idea have you?" she asked.

Yuki peeled back the cover on the mirror on her wall. I stood and faced it and almost fell back in shock.

The person looking back at me was probably the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. As well as perfectly proportioned features there was also something unearthly about the face, very hard to define, exotic and unbelievably attractive.

"Oh my god, I don't believe it, " I gasped and watched as the person in the mirror, well me of course, put her hand to her mouth in surprise.

"Sorry, Alexa," said Bella, " we've got so used to your face over the last few days, after it finally stopped changing, that we forgot how much a huge shock it might be to you"

I stood there for a few minutes, tracing the shape of my new face with my hand and watching my reflection to the same. Yuki and Bella watched me evaluating myself. Suddenly with a supreme effort I put the cover back over the mirror.

"Sorry, guys, now is not the time for self appreciation," I said," I think we need to be clear in our position at the moment"

"Well this is my viewpoint" commented Yuki, " we all know that the only thing we can do at the moment is to stall for time in the hope we can find a way of either neutralising the infectious agent or find a treatment to stop it"

"Yes as long as they don't find out about the mice and the containment is still effective we should have a few weeks," added Bella.

I nodded agreement and then something moving outside caught my eye. I turned to look through the window. Yuki and Bella followed my gaze.

At the edge of the camp perimeter there was a mixed pack of about 6 coyote, three pregnant females and three males foraging for snakes. Suddenly two of the males fell to the ground, the others startled by this event backed off briefly before the third male also dropped. The three females started howling as they looked at their motionless mates.

"Guys, " I said quietly, " we may not have too much time"

---

To Be Continued...
 
End of Part 3

"In case you haven't noticed, for some reason hard to ascertain, I no longer have any clothes that fit me," I said indicating the oversize coverall, of my former male self, I was wearing. They both looked at me for a few seconds. "Mm, this is a bit tricky, " said Yuki, " you are a bit bigger than both of us especially in the boob department............. Gift Of The Red Planet - Part 4 by Alys

---

Part 4
 

We stared at the three downed coyotes.

"If the infectious agent has got as far as the perimeter fence then everyone in the base will be affected," said Yuki.

"But Yuki, I don't understand how that's possible," I responded, " surely the bacteria and virus filter in the gas exchange system would prevent any escape"

"We are dealing with an unknown entity here, " Yuki countered, " we don't know enough about the characteristics of the strange organism causing this disease"

"They won't have any choice but to either completely isolate the base or destroy everything here," added Bella sounding anxious.

"But what about people commuting to work in the base?" I asked, " it could be in the general population already"

"What can we do for them, if it's already spread?" asked Bella, sounding more agitated, " if it's too late, they will have to take the consequences. All we can do is stall for time and hope there will a chance to get out of here before......well, you know."

"We're morally bound to warn them" I responded, "otherwise we are condemning millions to a painful death"

"But what about our deaths!" responded Bella, raising her voice.

"Better us, than millions!" I yelled back, angrily.

Yuki quickly stepped between us as Bella and I glared at each other.

"Now calm down you two," she said, quietly, "we need to have cool heads to decide on the best course of action."

Yuki's intervention rapidly dissipated the antagonism, caused by the stress of our situation. We all sat down on the bed and tried to make some sense of developments. There didn't seem to be any good options and even after fifteen minutes discussing all the possibilities we were still only left with the diametrically opposed positions of myself and Bella.

Faced with an impasse we all turned to look out at the continuing pathetic scene near the perimeter fence. The females had by now sidled up to their mates and were alternatively trying to revive them, by licking their faces, and raising their heads to howl in anguish.

Suddenly a battered SUV arrived on the scene and two desert Rangers jumped out. One of them was carrying a rifle with a telescopic sight while the other had something akin to a medical bag in his hand.

The female coyotes that had been keeping watch shuffled a little away keeping up their howls of anguish.

The rangers moved from one limp male coyote to the other and seemed to be clipping something to a ear, they then injected each one with an injection gun, jumped into their truck and sped off.

We watched with relief as each of the previously prone animals slowly stumbled to their feet. Within a few minutes the pack had reassembled and had made their way quickly away from the base.

"Ohmigod they were only tagging the coyotes," said Yuki, as we gazed at the small dust cloud of the departing group, " they must have shot the males with tranquiliser darts"

"So it looks like containment is still working then," commented Yuki.

We all collapsed on the bed with exhaustion after the cumulative stress of the previous few hours.

"I feel like I've been to hell and back," I said, "I wake up from a coma to find I've been changed into a woman, then Mars Corps CEO wants to strip me for Playboy and then it looks like we are facing imminent execution"

I felt Bella put her arm around me.

"It's OK, Alexa," she said, " I know this is all such a lot to take in, but things will be fine, as long as we can get through the immediate danger"

"Yes, remember when we were caught in the dust storm on our last EVA and how it slowed down the buggy," mused Yuki, " I was convinced we would run out of oxygen before we made it back, but we didn't panic."

"Yes, we didn't," I responded, " and I remember I only had five minutes left in my tank, that was close"

"I think I had even less," said Yuki, as our thoughts went back to our time on the Red Planet.

There was silence for a few minutes as we each were lost in our memories.

"I know what would make us feel human again," said Bella, suddenly, " something I've wantd to do since we came back. What about if we have a nice relaxing meal, I'll cook us Veggie Lasagna and we can sit down and chat over a bottle of Napa Valley White. How does that sound?"

"It sounds good, Bella, assuming that you can actually make such a dish. I don't remember you preparing anything tasty, or even very edible, on Mars, " I said, smiling.

"That's because, Smarty Pants, we only had concentrates to use," she replied as she gave me a very gentle, affectionate slap on the cheek.

"Well, I think it's a brill idea," said Yuki

"Yes it does sound great, except for one thing that might spoil the atmosphere," I said.

"What's that?" chorused the other two.

"In case you haven't noticed, for some reason hard to ascertain, I no longer have any clothes that fit me," I said indicating the oversize coverall, of my former male self, I was wearing.

They both looked at me for a few seconds.

"Mm, this is a bit tricky, " said Yuki, " you are a bit bigger than both of us especially in the boob department, even though I would estimate that you have lost about four inches of height compared with your male form"

"I think I might have a loose shirt that might be just big enough," said Bella.

"My peasant skirt might stretch enough," ventured Yuki, "but you might have to go commando, don't think my panties would fit you"

Ten minutes later I was luxuriating in the base shower. I was amazed at how sensitive my new body was, especially my nipples. I was only able to tolerate the water splashing on them for small periods before the arousal became too strong. I was also surprised at how well toned every muscle was considering that I had spent such a time lying in a bed. I wondered what other surprises there would be as a result of my transformation.

The meal that Bella prepared was delicious, as I knew it would be despite my teasing. Afterwards we sat and talked about our time before Mars Corps as a way of forgetting our immediate predicament. I listened attentively to Bella and Yuki describing their earlier lives and tried to imagine how different my own experiences would have been from a female perspective.

I was woken the next morning, earlier than I had hoped after going to bed rather later than usual, by the sound of the airlock opening. I quickly jumped out of bed and made my way to the main lounge in the clothes I had borrowed the day before.

I almost burst out laughing at the incongruous sight of three space suited people standing there, surrounded by a collection of photographic equipment and heaps of clothing.

"Well, hello darling," said the tallest of the group, whom from their heights I assumed to be a man and two women.

"Good morning, who are you?" I asked, rather curtly, irritated by the immediate assumed familiarity.

"Hey, Sexy, don't get in a huff," the man responded, " I was only being friendly. I'm Hank and these other lovely ladies are Hannah and Josie. We're here for the photo-shoot and I for one can't wait to see those puppies exposed"

I was beginning to feel nauseated by Hank's sexism and was at a loss for words.

"So how is this going to work?" asked Bella, who had entered as our guests were being introduced, " how are you going to dress Alexa while you're wearing suits?"

"Yes, it will be a problem," replied Hannah, in a friendly tone, " we were rather hoping that either you or Yuki or both would help in getting Alexa ready"

"We are also constrained by time too," added Josie, "we only have an hour of oxygen, so we're probably going to have to get Alexa dressed for each shoot here in this room"

"No!" I blurted out.

"What's wrong?" asked Yuki, who had arrived at that moment.

"I'm not changing in front of him!" I said angrily, " and I'm not doing the topless poses."

"Come on sweetheart, you ain't got nothing I ain't seen before," he said in a smarmy way.

I refused to budge from my decision despite further pleading from the photo-shoot three and after a few minutes they decided that given their severely limited time in our module that they had better do what was possible. Hank was packed off to another room to wait while I was got ready for the first shoot. As he walked past he gave me a strange wink, which I ignored as I assumed it was another slimy try-on.

The next three quarters of an hour was one of frantic activity as I dressed, was made up and photographed for each outfit. Each time I was just getting used to the feel of the expensive materials before I was forced to disrobe again. Finally the base comm duty officer was forced to order Hank, Hannah and Josie back into the airlock as they were trying to finish another shoot while ignoring their suit warning lights. They left in a hurry, promising to return to finish the shoot using the clothes and equipment they had left behind.

I sat back on the sofa, exhausted after the frantic activity, wearing the designer black silk dress. I flicked off my unfamiliar three inch heels. I rubbed my calf muscles which were beginning to ache.

"Did you enjoy that Alexa?" asked Bella, smiling.

"This beauty business is hard work," I replied, " I can't wait to get back to Science"

"Yes, it's not as easy to look good as it seems in the magazines," said Yuki, smiling, "although you would still look amazing even without the makeup and sexy clothes."

Without warning the friendly face of Bill Gilles, the duty base officer appeared above the camjector.

"Alexa, if you feel up to it we have the Norah Jones interview scheduled for about fifteen minutes," he announced in a friendly tone.

I thanked him for the reminder and prepared myself for my appearance on the world's premier chat show.

"Good morning Alexa, and welcome to the Norah show," were the welcoming words of the most famous woman in the world. Norah Jones, the former Jazz and Blues superstar still looking absolutely stunning at 41, had taken over the TV phenomenon, formerly known as Oprah, four years previously and had maintained its pre-eminence.

"Good morning, Norah and thank you for the invitation," I responded.

"So, my first question, Alexa, how does it feel to be a woman?" she asked.

"I'm just glad to be alive, Norah, unlike the two other crewmen on the mission," I responded.

There was a few moments of silence, "Yes we were all sorry to hear about the deaths of Captain John Sanders and Commander George Jerson," said Norah.

She then expertly altered the subject to ask me some questions about my past and about our mission. I relaxed as she skillfully put me at my ease. Finally she said she had one final question.

"My last question then Alexa, this thing that happened to you, could it happen to anyone else? I'm not sure if Mr Jones would be so keen to have such a nice womanly figure as you now have, " she said, smiling broadly.

"Not to worry, Norah, we are working hard to find out the properties of the......" I paused as I noticed Yuki and Bella frantically signalling to me not to say anything further.

"Of the what?" Norah asked, looking puzzled.

"Sorry, I meant of my condition," I replied, trying to cover up my slip with a broad smile.

Norah gave me a strange look and then her disembodied head turned away as she spoke to her studio audience, "Ladies and Gentlemen please give a great round of applause for one of the bravest people on Earth, Alexa Dupre"

There was a thunderous sound of appreciation as she first turned to camera to announce an ad-break and then thanked me for the interview, before disappearing.

"Alexa," hissed Bella, "you nearly told the whole world what we're trying to conceal from the base"

"How could you be so stupid?" accused Yuki with more than a little anger in her voice.

"Sorry, sorry, she was just so good at making me forget everything," I responded, "listen I think I've had too much stress for the day I'm going to read in my room"

I left the icy atmosphere behind and retreated to my own little space. I dropped the dress, crumpled on the floor and put on one of my clean coveralls, rolling up the sleeves and legs.

For the rest of the day I kept away from the other two while Yuki busied herself with further tests on the blood and air samples containing the infectious agent while Bella analysed some of the soil samples we had brought back.

I slept badly as I dreamed about sexist photographers, beautiful clothes and firing squads.

I awoke with a start, there was a very loud rumbling sound that was increasing in volume. I rushed to the main room to investigate. I looked at the cloud of dust, indicating a huge vehicle approaching.

Suddenly the whole building shook violently as a tank crashed through the outer security wall and smashed the air lock.

The top panel of the monster vehicle opened and a young military looking individual of uncertain gender pulled themselves up into open view. I noticed their cap with a strange purple symbol on it, a male and female sign superimposed. I wondered what it meant.

"Quickly, you've got to get out of here, they're going to nuke the place!"

---

To Be Continued...
 
End of Part 4

I looked at the countdown clock in the corner of the Driver's screen, showing the time until the nuclear blast. It read twelve fifteen, next to it was another clock labelled 'Blast Zone Exit Time'. Alarmingly it was reading fifteen thirty. I noticed Christine following my gaze. "Shit Brenda, we're not going to make it!" she yelled," What's happened?" Gift Of The Red Planet - Part 5 by Alys

---

Part 5
 

I folded my arms across my unconstrained breasts to try and reduce their mad movement as we bumped over the scrub at a crazy pace.

It was only a few minutes since the tank had smashed into our base. The warning of the tank commander of our imminent annihilation had seemed all too plausible, given our previous discussions, so without thinking of any other consequences we had all jumped aboard.

"You OK?" asked the elder of the two soldiers who had smashed their way into the base a few minutes earlier.

I nodded my head in reply as I was forced to leave my boobs to their painful bouncing in order to grab a handrail, to stop myself being jolted against a bulkhead

"Do we have to go so fast?" asked Yuki from the relative comfort of a small metal seat in the front of the vehicle.

"Sorry," replied the driver, sitting next to her," we need to get back to the regiment before they notice we took a little detour. I'm Brenda and that's Christine."

Suddenly the mad swinging of my chest was lessened as the tank changed direction and resumed a more even pace on what felt like a paved road

"We know who you all are of course," added Christine in a husky voice.

"What's this all about then?" asked Bella a little uncertainly," I hope this is not some trick and I didn't know there were any women tank commanders."

"There aren't," responded Christine," and it's what I said, they're going to nuke the place in about an hour, everyone is being evacuated."

"Except you three, of course," said Brenda.

"Why?" I asked.

"We don't really know, we got the order half an hour ago to leave," replied Christine," although the rumour is that the generals are worried that whatever changed Alexa is going to get out and turn all men into women."

"I wonder why they think that?" asked Bella to herself while looking directly at me.

"I'm.. so sorry, guys," I said.

"So why have you rescued us then?" asked Yuki," aren't you worried about your husbands or boyfriends?"

Christine and Brenda looked at each other and laughed.

"Not at all, hon," responded Christine," in fact we're both hoping to catch whatever happened to you, Alexa."

"I don't understand, you know that it doesn't affect women," I responded, feeling puzzled.

"That's why it'll affect us," commented Brenda cryptically.

"You're not women?" asked Bella.

"Oh no, we are women, but most people don't see us that way," replied Christine," they'd call us transsexuals."

"So we're breathing in as much infection as possible from you Alexa," said Brenda, smiling.

"How come you're in charge of this tank then?" asked Bella.

"It's a long story, I'll give you a summary," replied Christine.

As the tank bumped along the road she told us how she had been born a boy and named Christopher. She had fought her feelings of otherness all her life and had finally joined the army to suppress her feelings of wanting to be a woman. Eventually she had found the strain of hiding her real self too much and had started going to transgender bars in nearby Las Vegas. She had eventually met Brenda and the two had managed to get transferred to the same tank.

"We are both saving up to transition when we leave the army," added Brenda.

"But maybe being in contact with you will speed up the process a little," said Christine, smiling and touching my arm in a friendly gesture.

"So you can see why we couldn't leave you to fry," added Brenda.

There was a few minutes of silence as Brenda and Christine busied themselves with some routine checks on the tank computer. Bella, Yuki and myself looked at each other as we tried to make sense of the situation we were in. Had we jumped out of the frying pan into the fire. What were the real intentions of the two transgendered women?

"Listen everyone," said Yuki, breaking the silence," things are not quite that simple."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"You're no longer infectious, nor is there any agent remaining in the air and water of the base," she blurted out.

We all looked at Yuki in shock.

"I mean I tested your breath as you slept," she continued," and there was no trace of the agent in it, although there seemed to be something in your blood."

"What does this mean?" asked Christine, a little curtly," has this been a wasted journey for us?"

"Maybe, maybe not," Yuki said, uncertainly," you certainly wouldn't be affected by breathing in the air around Alexa, although I would guess that a sample of her blood could transmit the infection."

Any further discussion was interrupted as the tank camjector suddenly projected the image of a man in his late thirties sitting in a tank.

"Green leader to green group, please initialise encryption code delta," said the disassociated head.

Brenda typed on her keyboard a string of numbers and letters. The image flickered and then re-stabilised.

"We have a code red base breach of base security. I repeat a code red breach," announced the regiment commander," Region executive has initiated fifteen minute countdown to sterilisation protocol sequence. I repeat fifteen minute countdown!"

We all looked at each other in alarm.

"In other words you bozos," yelled Green leader," you got less than fifteen minutes to get your sorry asses out of there!"

"Shit, Brenda," said Christine," put your foot down!"

There was a sudden surge of acceleration as the tank moved forward at twice or three times its previous speed. The jolting was soon as bad as earlier.

"We've got to stop them!" I shouted to my fellow astronauts, above the noise of the tank engines.

"Stop who?" asked Bella.

"The army, nuking the base," I explained," the fall-out, it'll blow towards Las Vegas, didn't you see the windsock before we left, there's what looks like a thirty mile an hour wind."

"But how can we stop them without giving ourselves away?" asked Yuki.

I was stumped for an answer. We could contact Hollis, the Mars Corps CEO and tell him to get President Hassam to stop the nuclear strike. But even if we could convince the slime-ball he would most likely get the army to blow up our tank just in case. I racked my brain trying to think of a sympathetic figure with enough influence to stop the devastation.

I looked at the countdown clock in the corner of the Driver's screen, showing the time until the nuclear blast.

It read twelve fifteen, next to it was another clock labelled 'Blast Zone Exit Time'. Alarmingly it was reading fifteen thirty.

I noticed Christine following my gaze.

"Shit Brenda, we're not going to make it!" she yelled," What's happened?"

"Dunno, we seem to have lost some power to the front engines, maybe we got some bushes into the air-filters when went over the scrub-land to rescue these guys, maybe blocking them a little." Brenda explained.

"Damnation! This is not a good day!" Christine exclaimed," I wish I'd never seen the three of them, bloody astronauts."

"We're all toast now," she continued, angrily," unless you have an idea how to stop the nukes."

"We are sorry if your rescue of us has been futile," responded Bella as calmly as possible.

"Don't give me your false piety," said Christine, bitterly," we did this for something you can't even give us now. Brenda, if we chucked them out would we make it?"

I looked alarmingly at Bella and Yuki.

"Nope," replied Brenda, after she had done some quick calculations," the reduction in weight only gives us about an extra thirty seconds, we're still short by more than two minutes."

"OK, I guess we'll have to try and dig ourselves in and hope the blast goes over us," said Christine," we can lie down and listen to the infernal music."

"Wait I have an idea," I said, abruptly as Christine's reference to music had reminded me of someone.

"What?" asked Yuki.

"We can contact Norah, her programme is on now and I'm sure she can get through to the President," I explained," quick, Yuki give me the portable."

She took out her hand-held camjector and handed it to me. I quickly recorded a message to the talk-show host I had met the day before, before handing it back to my fellow astronaut.

"Can you change the background, so no-one knows we're in a tank?" I asked.

"Sure," she replied," I'll insert some scenes from the base. But how can we send the message without the army detecting it and finding us?"

I had an answer.

"Christine I'm hoping that you have drones fitted?" I asked.

"Sure, why?" she responded.

"Can you attach the camjector to it?" I asked.

"Easy," she replied.

I took the device from Yuki, set it to loop transmit and handed it to the tank commander. She opened a hatch in the side and quickly inserted it in a compact storage module on the drone. In another thirty seconds the small airplane was launched.

Brenda patched in the output from the drone while grabbing the signal from the Norah show. For the next three minutes we watched the two side by side. My message was just finishing its fourth repetition when the image from the drone was replaced by static as an army missile destroyed it.

"They got it," I said dejectedly.

"Of course they did," said Christine," what did you expect, they weren't going to let you broadcast without responding."

"I just hope the message got through," said Bella," not much time left now."

We all looked at the countdown. It had reached the last minute and now showed fifty nine seconds.

"Quick Brenda!" ordered Christine," get us into sand!"

We we thrown about as the tank abruptly changed direction and seconds later came to a shuddering halt. Then the vehicle started vibrating and shuddering as the mechanical shovels began digging us in.

As we slowly sank we watched the image of Norah interviewing a round the world disabled yachtswoman.

"It looks like she didn't get the message," said Christine.

"I'm so sorry, everyone," I said as tears began to flow down my cheeks.

The timer had reached ten seconds when the TV personality suddenly turned away from her guest and announced.

"We'll be back in a flash, don't go away."

---

To Be Continued...
 
End of Part 5

"You're very beautiful," said Yuki, suddenly and surprisingly. "Thank you, even though that is such a strange comment to hear," I whispered back. Her hand slowly moved from my face to gently touch my neck. I shivered a little with her caress. Gift Of The Red Planet - Part 6 by Alys

---

Part 6
 

There was the slightest rumble in the ground around the tank.

"Was that it?" I asked.

"Of course it wasn't," answered Christine angrily," there's no way a one megaton underground nuclear explosion would feel so feeble!"

"Look at the TV signal, no effect on it at all," said Brenda, pointing at the screen where the Norah show break ads continued, oblivious to the peril we faced.

"....finding it hard to work that extra hour of your daily thirteen, take megamind stimulants for an explosion of energy......"

"Why is that significant?" asked Bella.

"It means that there's been no EMP," explained Christine," you know, electromagnetic pulse, wipes out electronics, from any nuke."

"So what's happened?" asked Yuki.

"No idea," answered Christine," apart from what is blindingly obvious, let's hope that no nukes is good nukes."

"Why wouldn't it be?" I asked," what else could be happening?"

"They could have decided to search for us instead," suggested Yuki," but I felt something, there must have been some sort of explosion."

"Detonators," responded Brenda," high explosive charges. I'm guessing that the stop command came so late that they only had time to slam the safeties back on the nukes."

"So we still don't now if the threat has disappeared or not," I pondered aloud.

"No, we could still be in danger from Hollis and Mars Corps," said Bella.

We all sat and looked at each other trying to decide on our course of action, as the Norah show ad break continued to blare out the usual inanities.

Our uncertainty was ended by two almost simultaneous changes in the background noise inside the tank. Firstly there was a buzz and vibration on my wrist CPA, indicating a message and then the hostess herself returned to the show being patched onto Brenda's display screen.

"Welcome back to the Norah show," said the stunningly beautiful presenter," we have an unexpected change to our schedule today. Ladies and Gentlemen please welcome President Ali Hassam, live from the Oval Office"

The picture shifted to show the nation's leader sitting at his desk in and looking at his audience with his usual perfect, wide grin.

"Thank you Norah," he said," I am extremely grateful for you finding a space for me to appear on your show at such short notice."

"It's always my pleasure Mr President, especially after you informed us of your momentous news," Norah replied, smiling with her lips only.

As I watched the interchange, between two of the most proficient media performers of a generation, I flicked open my CPA. To my surprise the small screen indicated a message in text format rather than the usual video. I read it quickly.

Thanks 4 message. Watching show? Told him stop nuke or I'd support Johnson :-) Good luck. XX Norah.

I smiled at the idea of such a prominent progressive supporting the reactionary Johnson, leader of the 'Back to the Homesteads' movement. But a very real threat to Hassam's re-election chances given Norah's huge popularity.

I turned my attention back to the broadcast.

"..............so you see Norah," the President was saying," the news from our mission to Mars is as startling as I have just explained."

"Life on Mars, what a discovery! This is indeed a momentous day," Norah responded," and what is the latest news from our brave astronauts, Bella Itani, Yuki Chan and Alexa Dupre?"

"They are well and are as excited as the rest of us with the confirmation of their discovery. I understand from Fred Hollis at Mars Corps that they will be allowed out of isolation in a few days. When that.............."

Suddenly Christine reached over to tap Brenda's touch screen and close the patch.

"OK, Brenda, that's all we need to know," she said abruptly," get us out of here so that we can unload our guests as soon as possible."

"'K, Chrissie," responded Brenda, before setting the shovels to dig us out of the sand," let's go baby."

The tank camjector suddenly flickered into life and the image of a man in his late thirties, sitting in a tank, returned.

"Green leader to green group, initialise encryption code alpha," said the disassociated head.

Brenda quickly typed the requisite keys, causing the Green Leader's head to flicker and then re-stabilise. By this time we had slowly resumed motion forward as the ponderous vehicle made its way through the sand back onto the road.

"Message from command to Green Group," said the disembodied man," rendezvous twenty minutes six-nine-six-zero-one-seven, repeat grid reference six-nine-six-zero-one-seven in twenty minutes."

The head dissolved as Brenda typed in the grid coordinates.

"How does that look Brenda?" asked Christine.

"Not good Chrissie," she replied," we'll barely make it in time and it's the road junction, right next to the derelict farmhouse. You know... where we were going to dump our passengers."

Christine thought for a few minutes as Brenda busied herself bringing the tank up to speed.

"OK ladies, it looks like you're going to have to walk," said Christine firmly.

"What?" responded the three of us almost in unison.

"Not too far," reassured the tank commander," but unfortunately it's going to be a bit hot. Let me explain."

★★★★★★★★★★
     
Fifteen minutes later Brenda brought our forward motion down to walking pace. The three of us jumped out, making our way quickly off the road to a small group of shrubs that Christine had spotted on her binoculars. We quickly lay down in the hot sand, throwing the sandy coloured camouflage netting over our heads.

Within a few seconds the tank, having quickly resumed full speed, was out of sight leaving a massive dust trail behind to slowly settle out of the air.

"How long till sunset," I asked.

"About ten hours," replied Yuki.

"I'm already warm under here," I responded.

"It's going to get hotter, it's not even midday yet," stated Bella.

"Do you think they're looking for us?" I asked.

"Of course they are, why do you think that Brenda and Christine's command were ordered to meet at the road junction?" Bella responded.

"Yes, I see," I said," I guess they're blocking all the roads out."

"Of course," added Yuki," unless you can fly, the roads are the only sensible way of getting through the desert."

"I wonder what they'll do if they don't find us?" I said.

The answer to my question came with the almost simultaneous buzzing of our CPAs. We all flicked them open and the image of our corporate boss was revealed. The discordant noise of Fred Hollis's video message, slightly out of sync, on our three receivers, failed to lessen the impact of his threats.

"You know we'll find you, what did you think you were doing breaking out this morning!" he yelled," But don't think I'm not a reasonable man. So here's the situation. It's simple and easy to understand. If we haven't heard from you within forty eight hours, telling us where to collect you from, then one of your relatives will have an accident!"

The repellent face faded away as the CPA system voices continued," if you'd like to reply to this message please tap twice on the icon and.."

"Bastard!" I spat out.

"Yes, what a complete lump of shit he is," agreed Yuki.

"You realise that Hassam put him up to this don't you?" asked Bella.

I nodded my head and lay there thinking about all the horrible things that I would like to do to our erstwhile head of mission. Most of them involving a spaceship, an airlock and the utter vacuum of space.

"You know what I'd like to do to him?" asked Bella, with a little smile on her face, after a few minutes of silence between us," as long as you're happy with it, Alexa."

"I can guess," chuckled Yuki.

"What's that Bella?" I asked.

"Well maybe he need a little blood transfusion," she replied," I wonder how he would look as an eighteen year old woman!"

I joined in the laughter for a few seconds but then had to stop as even that minimal amount of movement had caused me to sweat heavily.

"How much water do we have?" I asked.

"Two litres," said Yuki, indicating the water bottles in the corner.

"That's not going to be enough is it?" I asked, feeling really concerned about our chances of making it through the day.

"Well if we can move and make it to the farmhouse to get shelter, it might be OK," suggested Yuki.

"I don't think so?" said Bella," those tanks are going to be there all day. No ladies, there is only one thing we can do if we're going to have to stay here."

"What's that?" I asked.

"Strip off and use our clothes to protect us from the heat of the sand underneath, along with the thermal blankets Brenda gave us," she explained.

Yuki and I accepted the wisdom of Bella's idea so we all quickly removed our clothes. I noticed as I did the difference between the three of us. My alien induced female body was so much firmer and younger looking than theirs.

"It's not fair," said Bella as she noticed my glance," I spend all those hours in the gym and am still nowhere near as strong and supple as you, Alexa."

"Sorry Bella," I responded as sympathetically as possible," but I did the same gym routine when I was Alex, remember."

"You know what I mean," responded Bella, pouting and poking her tongue out at me.

We all lay back, using our rolled up clothes as pillows and attempted to rest and avoid any unnecessary movements. Bella had set her CPA to give us regular water breaks. I hoped that the supply would last until the evening.

★★★★★★★★★★
     
I felt a hand caressing my face gently. I turned to see Yuki gazing at me. I noticed that Bella was deep in an uneasy sleep.

"Hi, how's it going?" I whispered through my dry lips.

It was over four hours since we had settled down in our hideout and we were all suffering.

"I want a nice cold soda with ice," responded Yuki looking into the distance as if to create a vision of her drink.

"Best not to think about it," I said, even though the my body was screaming for more water than the two mouthfuls Bella was allowing us every hour.

"You're very beautiful," said Yuki, suddenly and surprisingly.

"Thank you, even though that is such a strange comment to hear," I whispered back.

Her hand slowly moved from my face to gently touch my neck. I shivered a little with her caress.

"You have such amazing breasts," said Yuki, softly, as her fingers traced the outline of my upper body before circling around my aroused nipple.

"I didn't know you liked girls," I responded, remembering the sweet moments I had spent with her in her cubicle on the mission.

"Neither did I," she responded, smiling, " until I saw how you had turned out. How about you? Do you still fancy me?"

I nodded and returned the gentle caresses.

Our exploration of our hot and sweaty bodies was suddenly cut short by Bella's alarm awaking her and preparing us for our next liquid intake. Soon we had all returned to keeping still and conserving our energy.

★★★★★★★★★★
     
Yuki pushed the half broken door open as I helped Bella over the threshold.

"Get me water, water....a nice cold coke with ice," muttered Bella in her semi-delirium.

She had suffered the worst from the exhausting heat while Yuki with her smaller frame and myself being physically a lot younger had coped with it better. It had been a struggle to get her the last mile to the derelict building.

"I think the sink is over here," said Yuki, as we made our way into through the detritus and rubbish of rooms that had had no-one inhabiting them for years.

The warm brackish water from the taps tasted like an elixir to our parched mouths and we were soon feeling quite a lot better.

We carefully made our way to the empty store room before getting on all fours to search for the entrance to the cellar where Christine had told us to wait, until one of her friends from the city came along to pick us up and take us out of the desert.

"They'll knock in a particular sequence, only open up if you hear it," she had warned.

After some minutes we finally located the trapdoor. Entrance proved a little difficult as first Yuki and then her and Bella combined failed to overcome the resistance of the corroded hinges. Finally they turned to me and I found, to my surprise, that my youthful strength was able to complete the task without any great difficulty.

I waited as the two of them made their way down the concrete steps, locating a few sacks and then to our relief and surprise a few cans of food still within their date limits. Closing the trapdoor behind me I slowly and carefully made my way down the steps in the pitch darkness feeling the wall as I went. Suddenly the blackness disappeared.

"Wow, did someone find a light?" I asked as I looked down at the room clearly illuminated in a ghostly green.

"Nope," responded Yuki," why?"

"I can see everything really clearly, can't you?" I asked.

"I don't know what you're talking about, it's completely black here, I can't even see my fingers from one inch" said Bella.

I walked straight towards them, while explaining how the darkness had suddenly disappeared for me.

"Amazing," responded Yuki," I can't wait to do some proper tests on you."

"I bet," I responded, smiling at the thought of Yuki experimenting on me. She would love it so much and I myself was curious about how exactly my body had altered.

We settled down to wait our rescue.

★★★★★★★★★★
     
Some hours later the silence was suddenly broken by the crunch of heavy footsteps on the floorboards above. They sounded like they belonged to two or three separate individuals. I was immediately alarmed as Christine had only mentioned one person meeting us in the farmhouse.

We could hear some muffled male voices, too indistinct to make out.

"Must be a search party," I whispered to Yuki who was sat next to me.

The steps moved away from the store room above and grew fainter as the people above us wandered around the rooms. Then there was silence again.

I sighed with relief.

Suddenly there was the sound of running above us, getting closer as the strangers moved quickly back through the building.

Until they stopped, directly above us on the trapdoor!

---

To Be Continued...
 
End of Part 6

"I'll send you all my dreams Everyday in a letter Sealed with a kiss"

---

 

"You OK there baby?" asked Kalani, Christine's musclebound boyfriend, as he turned round once again to ogle me. I looked away as he stared open mouthed at my breasts, exposed through the many rips on my long t-shirt caused by the desert thorns from our earlier escapades.

"I'm fine," I replied with disdain as I looked out at the window at the traffic on the busy Interstate, extremely irritated by the continuous gawking," how much longer till we get there?"

"Not too long, sexy," he replied before turning to his Hawaiian brother, Makana," can't you drive faster you idiot, the lady wants to change into something more comfortable and I'm volunteering to help her."

"Shut up Kal, you fuckwit, you know we can't afford to break the speed limit," grunted the sibling driving the battered SUV, which was almost as uncomfortable as the tank had been earlier.

It was almost two hours since our fear of recapture had been allayed by the two brothers giving the coded signal on the trap-door. Then followed a scary few minutes while Makana tried to navigate the desert road in almost complete darkness after the moon had set.

After the third time near disaster, when he had avoided dumping the car in a deep gully only by me yanking the wheel at the last second, I had insisted on taking control of the car and, with my newly discovered night vision ability, had easily navigated the way to the Interstate.

"God I'm so hungry," grumbled Bella, sitting on my left, while Yuki slept uneasily with my right arm around her shoulder and her head resting gently on my soft boob pillow.

"Any chance of stopping," asked Bella," we haven't eaten anything all day."

"I don't think there's anywhere on this road," responded Kalani.

"Yes there is I can see what looks like a 24 hour KFC a couple of miles ahead, over there," I countered, while I gently stroked Yuki's arm.

Kalani looked in the direction of my pointed finger while trying to shield his eyes from the glare from the oncoming traffic headlights," I can't see nothing."

"It's definitely there," I said, grateful that my strange ability to see in the dark also seemed to filter out bright lights as I surveyed everything in a ghostly green glow.

"Anyway we haven't got to time to stop, we need to get you off the road as soon as possible, girls, before those army bozos work out you've escaped and follow our tracks," stated Kalani, forcefully.

"Please guys, I need something to eat!" pleaded Bella," and I need a pee too."

"Come on, where's the harm stopping for a few minutes? I really need something to eat too," I asked, " and you know what I've got for Christine and Brenda don't you and I'm sure they'll be pissed if I'm too ill to do it for them asap."

Even though I doubted I would be able to change the men's girlfriends I hoped suggesting it would be enough of an inducement.

"What do you think Mak?" asked Mr Musclebound, sounding less certain.

"Yep, what's the harm and if she can do, what happened to her, to our girls then the sooner the better," he replied and slowed down to move into the exit lane.

*********

Ten minutes later I was refreshing myself in the restroom of the almost empty roadside cafe. Yuki and Bella has already sneaked back to the car while the two men were stocking up on a range of unhealthy food to sustain us for the rest of the journey.

As I tried to wash as much of the desert grime as possible off my face, the door from the eating area opened and two middle-aged women walked in wearing overalls that proclaimed their identity as Edwards air force base civilian staff.

I carried on cleaning myself while one of the other women used the mirror next to mine to freshen her make up. The second woman stood behind me, waiting for me to finish.

"Did you hear about the Martian base, Callie?" asked the woman standing next to me to her companion.

"What's that Brid?" asked Callie.

"The space women and the freaky thing you know the one who used to be a man, well they escaped.............." explained Brid before she stopped in mid-sentence when she noticed me staring at her in the mirror.

"....it's you, you're the one who was on Norah, you're the fr.....sorry the one who changed, you'll have to meet the rest of the gang outside," she continued, before touching my arm gently," come on Callie lets take our brave astronaut to meet Bren and the rest."

Suddenly the fear of discovery so soon after our arduous and perilous escape from certain death formed into strong feelings of anger inside me.

A clear thought filled my mind, shocking me with its intensity, 'I WANT YOU TWO TO FORGET ME,' was blasted into my consciousness.

Suddenly there was a flash as what looked like bolts of green lightening leaped from me to the other two women. Their eyes glazed over briefly and then they looked at each other.

"Funny, I was sure there was someone else in here when we came in," said Callie as she looked around the restroom without seeing me.

"'Course there's not, don't be silly Callie," said Brid," you been drinking on the job again?"

"Maybe, but not when bloody Williams is around, she's such a stickler for stupid rules," responded her companion.

The two of them left and I stood there, for a few seconds, in wonder at the new ability I had discovered, before leaving and rejoining my companions in the car.

Two hours later we pulled up outside a badly maintained town house on a city street which had obviously seen better times in previous decades.

We were all completely exhausted and after a quick round of hugs and kisses with Christine and Brenda, the three of us collapsed on the beds in the so-called spare room, with more junk than space in it, Bella on the single bed and myself and Yuki spooning on the double.

********
I woke up as my mind was suddenly filled with a painful scream in a tone which reminded me of Christine.

'My fucking god she did it she changed me!!!!'

'Is that you Chris, did it happen to you too," came another blast of thought with a Brenda tone.

'Hey you two, not so loud and what's happened? I thought as a response.

'Dunno how, but I just woke up and, well I'm all-girl now," responded Christine.

'Me too,' was Brenda's accompanying thought.

'How?' I wondered.

'You only needed to exchange some DNA,' came a distant, fainter answer, "it only took a kiss."

'What!!', 'Who', 'Where' were the sudden response of the three of us to this new unknown connection.

'Hello earth people welcome to your future,' responded the distant entity.

We are the remnants of the civilisation that once occupied the surface of Mars but over the eons of time, as the environment became harsher and harsher we moved deeper and deeper into the womb of the planet and lost our physical form as a trade-off for an exceptionally long individual existence.

'What are you?' I probed.

'We have a collective and also an individual identity although as our energy resources have been reduced the luxury of an individual existence has been restricted to a few lucky ones,' was the response.

'We have been observing with great apprehension the development of planet destroying weapons by your species, but have been impotent to act until your mission arrived on our planet,' explained our mentor.

'Why couldn't you stop us then?' asked Christine.

'Since we have no physical form it is almost impossible to do anything but with a great sacrifice of individual existence we were able to create the smallest possible physical vector to try and influence your minds. We call this symbiont a word in our base language, which sounds like 'Churinck''throid''foo' in yours. We appreciate maybe some difficulties in recalling this and thus we will shorten it to 'Foo',' was the distant thought.

'We managed to mix it with the dust around your landing base and some of the billions of the dormant motes managed to enter your bodies. We waited until you returned to your planet before activating them.'

'Why did you kill John and George?' I asked.

'We are sorry about the death of your crew members, our weak understanding of your physical bodies meant we weren't sure how you would respond to the initial invasion by the 'Foo' germ cells. Unfortunately for your male colleagues their bodies tried to fight back and they weren't able to receive the chemical precursor which you were lucky enough to have access to, while your female friends seemed to be completely unresponsive to the 'Foo'. We will need further refinement of our symbiont to address that problem.'

The dialogue continued for what seemed many hours as we learned more about the Martian civilisation and the collective entity probed our minds for details of Earth. We all felt their rising horror as they quantified all the planetary indicators to evaluate our nearness to final planet destruction.They formulated an ingenious plan which we had assented to when I felt my body being shaken.

"Wake up Alexa!" I heard the voice of Yuki in the distance as I was shaken vigorously.

I opened my eyes to see my sweet companion looking with concern at me.

"What's up?" I asked a little dreamily as I noticed the filigree mental connections fade a little into the background.

"You've been comatose for the last five minutes," she explained," I thought you were having an absence or something."

"It's OK," I reassured," I've been involved in something much more exciting."

I sat back on the bed while she woke up Bella and then I explained things to them.

"This is all so amazing, I can't believe it, another sentient species in the solar system," said Bella in wonder, after I had finished.

"Not sure about 'another'," I said chuckling a little," from their point of view they're the 'sentient' ones, we're the primitive beasts by comparison."

"But what's the plan, remember the threat to our families, we don't have long," asked Yuki anxiously.

"OK, lets get on, we need a computer to track down someone who's a fan of particular websites." I said before jumping up, rushing to the bathroom and quickly changing into the fresh clothes left out by Brenda and Christine.

*************

An hour later I was driving the battered SUV into a rather more salubrious area of the city. I pulled up outside a pleasantly manicured house and quickly made my way to the front door.

A masculine looking woman in her late fifties opened the door.

"Ann?" I ventured as I recognised the person I had been talking to by web-chat half an hour ago after our Martian enhanced PC had located the nearest user of the MegaCloset website.

"Alexa, nice to meet you in the flesh," she replied," although I must be honest, if I hadn't recognised you from Norah I wouldn't have agreed to meet you."

"I can promise, you will be happy with the results," I said before holding out my arms to give the sceptical house owner a hug and the briefest of kisses.

"Well come on in and explain it all to me," she said," what do I have to do to gain this miracle transformation."

"You don't have to do anything," I said.

She looked at me in puzzlement.

"It's already done, it only took a little touch of our lips and the changes have started," I explained," let me help you to sit down and then you'll fall asleep for a little while."

I took Ann's arm and helped her into an armchair in her lounge.

"I must admit I feel a little tired," she said," can you let yourself out and maybe we can talk later about your crazy notion of a complete gender change."

"We will talk, a lot more than you expect," I said, smiling, before leaving the gently sleeping Ann.

***********************

Two hours later I was pulling up outside Christine and Brenda's house, after completing the last of my five visits, which had all preceded along similar lines to Ann's.

I felt a new presence in my mind, a new link in the collective consciousness.

'It's a miracle, how did it happen?'

I smiled as I left others to gently guide Ann into her new personal and joint reality.

I picked up my CPA to make the call to the odious Fred Hollis.

****************

The camera flashes were blinding and the screams of the paparazzi were deafening as I entered the room. I felt very strange in the close fitting mini-dress, which I had slipped into in the limo which I had come to pick us up while two experienced stylists had made sure I was perfectly made up, ready for my photo-op with the President.

"Ladies and gentlemen let me introduce the latest member of our campaign team, Alexa Dupre," announced President Hassam suavely.

He walked towards me to embrace me. I made sure I responded with enthusiasm to his kiss and for a few seconds there was even more pandemonium in the room as every news outlet tried to capture the President making out with the space-girl.

We finally broke off.

"I think I might be seeing rather more of you than I expected," whispered the President, before we both turned towards the press throng.

Myriad microphones were thrust in my face.

"Any comment, Miss Dupre?" was the loudest question, among the cacophony of noise.

"Anyone who kisses like that should have my vote," I said huskily.

I turned to President Hassam

"Good luck and you may find these useful" I whispered before putting the packet of Premarin in his jacket pocket.

He looked at me with a strange expression on his face before turning away and following his aides.

There was a flicker in my mind as another consciousness joined our growing collective. Soon there would be thousands and then millions and then there would be enough to influence the rich and powerful to end their destructive ways.

'Do you think she will enjoy anagrams after she changes?' I thought.

The ripple of mental laughter spread across the depths of space as we celebrated the gift of the red planet.

---

The End
 

 

---

 
I was lost.

I was wet through.

The cold rain was battering my face mercilessly.

I was running for my life.

Each step of my four inch heels on the hard concrete was like a knife through my body.

My pursuers, an assortment of devils, ghouls and demons were gaining on me.

The blood trickling down my forehead was making it hard to see.

I was going to die.

Why?

Four hours earlier

I looked at myself in the bedroom mirror for what seemed the trillionth time. It was too late to back out now but I wasn’t looking forward to the evening at all. I was going to get clocked all night.

It was Liz’s fault.

It was her idea to wear short sexy vampira costumes to Halloween night at the Way Out, rather than our usual long flowing witch outfits. A great idea for her five foot five slenderness, not so good for six foot of oestrogen induced plumpness.

I picked up my bra inserts and positioned them to give myself the slightest of cleavage before attaching the choker and the collar to the outfit.

There was a knock on the flat door. I quickly picked up my previously worn peasant skirt and top and stuffed them in the overflowing washing basket by the door of the bedroom. I grasped the majority of the piled up newspapers from the sitting room/kitchen table and put them in the recycle bin before opening the door.

“Hi Moll,” said Liz as she stood grinning in the doorway, “You ready yet?”

“Almost, want to come in for a bit,” I responded, beckoning her in with my arm.

She glided past me into my student flat, a vision of sexiness as her lucky genetics made her fill out amply her version of the costume, “Only for a few minutes, Moll, the car’s in a short stay parking place.”

“Glass of wine?” I asked, after Liz had made space for herself on the lumpy sofa by arranging the research journals in a tidy pile on the side table.

“Please, but only a small one, I’m driving, remember.”

I quickly poured two glasses from the half empty bottle. A large one for me and a smaller one for Liz.

“You look fantastic as always, Liz, love your hair,” I commented as I handed her the wine glass.

“Thanks, it’s a new salon on Tottenham Court. Your outfit makes you look pretty scary.”

“Yup, fat, frumpy and fearsome all in one go,”

“I’m sorry, Mol, I thought it would suit you too,” said Liz, soothingly.

“So how’s the thesis coming on?” she asked, changing the subject, after taking a sip of her Chardonnay.

“Slow, maybe another year, quicker if there are some results at Cern when I’m over there.” I replied.

“I won’t ask you to explain what you’ll be doing there. I didn’t understand it even in Cardiff doing your degree, I fell asleep last time you told me about Super Symmetry,” Liz responded, laughing at the memory of me droning on for ten minutes to her in bed, oblivious to her sleeping, until she started snoring.

I smiled and took another mouthful of wine remembering the bitter sweet ending of our relationship. We had met, as two guys, at a BiCardiff social and hit it off straight away despite our dissimilar courses, me Physics, her dress design.

Finding that we were both trans made us very close for a while even though we often appeared as a straight couple in public. Liz was very pretty even before hormones. However once we began to transition in our final years her greater interest in men than women meant breaking up amicably was better than losing her friendship, even though I was still in love with her.

There was a silence between us for a couple of minutes until Liz finished her glass and stood up, “Come on girl, we need to get motoring. The night is young and we need to get to Way Out before all the decent men are taken.”

I picked up my purse and followed her down to the street outside the City University flats.

Soon Liz was driving us in her brand new Mini MG convertible in the busy evening central London traffic.

“Nice car, Liz, how come?” I asked.

“Got a bonus after my last collection,” she replied, “You like it?”

“Like crazy, but no chance of ever affording one on my studentship salary.”

Liz chuckled, “You’ll just have to hope you score with some right old banker tonight and make good use of all his assets.”

We both laughed at her attempt at a double-entendre. For the rest of the journey we relaxed

While she negotiated our passage to the Way Out Club we chatted about our jobs and mutual friends in London and South Wales. I soon lost my resentment of earlier as I enjoyed the pleasure of Liz’s close company.

Three hours earlier

Forty minutes later we arrived at the club and joined a long but quick moving queue of customers of all genders, looks, shapes and sizes. We were soon in and grabbing our first drinks.

Almost before we sat down Liz was approached by a young attractive man and went off to join the throng on the dance floor. I resigned myself to either being a wallflower for the night or hooking up with some much older partner later on in the evening. Either that or to get drunk, whichever came sooner.

I was two further drinks down the road to oblivion when a tall slender attractive woman about my age,dressed as a devil in a clinging red top and short skirt, came towards where I was sitting. She squatted down near to me to be heard over the loud music.

“Hi, hun, anyone sitting there,” she said in a soft lilting contralto, indicating the seat next to me where I had placed Liz’s bag.

“Only my friend but she’s off dancing, you’re welcome till she comes back,” I replied, emptying the seat.

“Fiona,” she said extending her beautifully manicured hand with brilliant red nail varnish, after she had sat down.

“Mollie,” I responded, gently touching her hand with my black varnished fingers.

We sipped our glasses in silence for a few minutes until I felt a light touch on my shoulder. I turned to see Fiona’s beautifully made up face close to mine.

“I know it’s very stale question but do you come here often,” she asked, smiling, showing her perfect teeth.

“Not really, maybe every couple of months, can’t really afford it, how about you?”

“First time.”

“Really, how come?”

“I’m pretty stealth.” Fiona explained.

“Didn’t even think you were trans.”

“Transitioned at school.”

“Lucky you, your parents must be cool.”

Fiona smiled again and nodded before telling me about her generally positive experiences of being accepted at an early age by her parents and siblings. I countered with my sorry tale and the family that had stopped acknowledging my existence over two years ago.

We were on our second glasses of wine when Liz came back accompanied by the handsome guy who had first approached her. She came over and sat down next to me while Fiona went off to the loo.

“Hey Mol, what do you think of him?” she asked, having to almost shout into my ear in the increasing hub-bub.

“Nice body, you like him?”

“I so do fancy him, Mol. But there’s a little problem.”

“What’s that?”

“He’s invited me back to a private party at his so I got to take the car,” she explained looking a little sheepish.

My heart sank as I considered the prospect of having to get home on public transport.

“D’you mind, Mol, I’m really sorry but I can't leave the car here overnight.”

“OK, I’ll be fine, I can get the night bus.” I said, trying to sound more convincing than I felt.

“Thanks, love,” said Liz as she gave me a gentle kiss on the lips, “have a good night.”

As usual Liz’s touch had rekindled the furnace of suppressed emotions and I stared at her longingly as she left arm in arm with her company for the evening.

“Penny for them, hun” asked Fiona as she sat back down next to me, “some history there?

“That’s my friend, Liz, she also my ex from before,” I explained before giving Fiona a very brief description of my former relationship.

“How about you?” I asked.

“What about me?”

“Got a boyfriend?”

“I had but maybe not looking any more. Come on Mollie, your friend’s gone no need to hang onto these seats any more, let’s dance.”

Fiona took my hand a led me into the crowd who were moving in all sorts of directions on the main dance floor. After a while I lost my inhibitions and my self consciousness about how I looked in my outfit and started to enjoy myself with my attractive companion.

Some twenty minutes later there was a change of tempo as the DJ announced a run of slow numbers. I was about to look for a seat when Fiona took my hand and pulled me towards her.

“Where’re you going Mol, don’t you like me?”

“I like you a lot but didn’t think you’d want a slow with me.”

“Definitely,” she replied, holding me close. It felt so good to be held, especially since she was slighter taller.

The lights dimmed and spooky halloween images were projected around the club. I soon felt myself being aroused by our intimate dance.

One hour earlier

All too soon the evening was over and it was time to leave.

I walked out into the cold autumn evening with my arm around Fiona’s waist while she draped her arm over my shoulder, surreptitiously squeezing my breast.

“What are you doing now?” I asked, nervously.

“What do you mean?”

“Well you could come back to mine, if you like, but it’s OK if you don’t I mean....” I said quickly almost falling over the words, feeling very anxious.

She put her finger on my mouth to halt the my spluttering speech, guided the two of us towards a little alcove outside the club and then kissed me, a deep probing kiss, strong but tender at the same time. I felt myself going weak at the knees.

“I’d love too, but I’m so sorry I’ve got to work tomorrow, early shift.”

“Oh, I see,” I said, feeling really deflated.

“I want to see you again, Mol, what about a drink tomorrow evening?”

“Great.”

We arranged the details and then exchanged numbers. She gave me a last kiss before she went off to join the long queue for taxis while I turned with a last wave to walk to the night bus stop. She had offered to share a taxi but my place was a good mile further away and I couldn’t afford it.

As I walked along the street I suddenly felt very exposed and vulnerable. The pubs and clubs were beginning to empty and I was aware of the many glances I was getting. I heard one man, part of a drunken group, shouting from across the street.

“Get off the street you fat tranny.”

I quickened my step and was almost at the bus-stop when I saw the bus coming round the corner. At the same time the heavens opened. I started to run towards the oncoming bus, oblivious to even more strange looks, having calculated I just had enough time to make it.

I almost fell over the woman half sitting, half lying on the pavement. I attempted to run round her but before I’d passed her hand was on my arm.

“Please help me, I fell over and I can’t get up,” she pleaded in a strangely low voice.

I tried to pull her up quickly hoping I’d have enough to time to still catch the bus but the woman took an age to use my arm to pull herself to an unsteady standing position. Before I could ensure she was stable on her feet I heard the sound of my bus leaving the stop.

I turned around and watch my personal salvation leave me behind.

“Shit,” I exclaimed, in frustration.

“What’s up me dearie? “ asked the old woman, exposing me to her fetid, drink laced breath.

“Nothing, are you OK now?” I responded as I helped her sit on one of the plastic seats in the now empty bus-stop.

“Still a bit unsteady, but I’m indebted to you, what’s your name dear?”

“Mollie, shall I get you a coffee or something?”

“Thank you, I’m a Mollie too, just like you, not many of us left, used to be so many, the times we had at Mother Claps...” rambled the old woman as she rocked sleepily in the seat.

“You wait here, I’ll nip into the corner shop and get you a strong coffee.”

I turned my back and with great trepidation I walked into the busy 24 hour convenience shop. It seemed like everyone stopped talking and stared at me as I walked towards the drinks machine. I quickly inserted the coins and urged the machine to produce my beverage before there was any hassle. But before I could escape two tall teenage boys had contrived to roughly push into me as they left the shop.

The machine made a cheery noise to announce the arrival of the double strength coffee with extra sugar. I grabbed it too soon, ignoring the pain in my fingers.

“If that doesn’t wake her up, nothing will,” i said to myself as I exited the shop. I walked the twenty metres to the bus-stop as quickly as I could without tipping the scalding liquid onto my fingers.

She was gone.

The bus-stop was empty apart from one of the two youths who had pushed into me in the shop.

I bit my lip and summoned up all my courage with my concern for the unfortunate woman while cursing my too male sounding voice, “Excuse did you see an old woman here, waiting on the seat.”

He turned and looked at me in extreme distaste, “Fuck off freak, no-one here but me.”

I turned and walked away as quickly as I could. I felt even more depressed now at the prospect of having to walk the three miles back to my flat since it didn’t seem safe to wait for the next bus with the transphobic lad and no doubt some of his friends later on.

Suddenly there was a sudden gust of wind through my hair and damp clothes. I heard a whisper, almost too faint to be decipherable.

‘If you need help tonight ask the Mollies ‘

Fifteen minutes earlier

I’d been walking for over half an hour. My feet were really aching but I was glad I’d not seen too many people around. I’d been lucky in it being the hour gap between the pubs and normal clubs closing and the clubs with a bigger spending clientele closing.

Suddenly I turned a corner and saw a small group ahead of me. I was about to cross the road before they’d notice me when I heard a familiar voice.

‘Please leave me alone, I’m on my way home, I need to get to work.”

It was Fiona.

There were five men, in a variety of Halloween costumes, surrounding her. Evidently she had got out of her taxi just as the drunken group were coming along the street.

“We can give you plenty of work right now.” said one drunken idiot.

“You give reductions for fellow devils?” asked another, laughing raucously.

“Leave me alone or I’m calling the police.” shouted Fiona.

“Do what you like bitch, we’re still going to shag you, won’t be any police around her for hours.” stated the biggest of the men.

Another of the men pulled Fiona’s top down and started squeezing her breasts.

“Get off you bastard!” she screamed, pushing him away into the bigger of the men. They both stumbled.

Before they could recover I ran into them with as much force as I could summon and pushed them into their three companions.

“Run, Fiona, now!”

She looked at me in complete shock and hesitated. I grabbed her shoulders and pushed her in a direction away from the brutes.

“Go now it’s your only chance!”

She started to run to safety and I turned to face her attackers, who by now had regained their balance. The hate and hostility was clear in their faces.

“It’s a fucking freak,” said the drunken man.

“I don’t want to shag that thing” said the man dressed as a devil.

The apparent leader walked toward me quickly and grabbed me round the throat, “What do you think you’re doing you fat tranny, you think we want your ass instead of her cunt?”

“You look like a bunch of sissies, thought you'd like to suck my cock,” I said provocatively.

He released my throat to raise his hand to strike me, I tried to roll away from the blow but he still caught me on the side of my head. I fell to the ground with a sudden massive headache feeling dazed.

Before one of the others could kick me I rolled away along the pavement. My hand encountered a small pile of gravel. I took a handful and getting up a little groggily stared at my attacker.

“No point denying it big boy, you want to suck me off, I can see your hardon."

He started to run towards me, followed by his fellow idiots, as he did I threw the gravel into his face. I then turned and ran in the opposite direction to the one Fiona had taken.

By the time the leader had brushed the gravel from his face and the others had waited for him I had a good four hundred metres on them.

Now

I’d been running for five minutes. They were less than twenty metres behind me. Although I was handicapped by my heels, they were handicapped by their drunkenness and obesity.

I knew it was only a matter of time.

I turned a corner, I noticed the name of the street ‘Shoe Lane’. If only I thought to myself.

Suddenly the chase wa over and I stumbled as the fastest moving pursuer caught me and pushed my shoulder.

I flew into the wall hitting a metal plaque.

In an instance they were onto me, punching me in the back and head, with the boots flying in.

As I began to lose consciousness I smiled at the thought of Fiona’s escape.

For some reason the words I thought I’d heard in the wind after helping the old woman came to mind.

‘Please help me Mollies’ I thought to myself.

Suddenly there was a rush of wind that seemed to go through my body coming out of the plaque that I was pressed against.

I seemed to half hear some spectral voices.

‘Help our fellow Mollie'

'Save our Mollie'

The beating stopped and I slumped to the ground.

The sound of the wind rushing around in the lane seemed to increase to a high pitched, ghostly whine. Then the thugs started pleading.

“No”

“Leave me alone”

“Get off”

“For fucks sake”

As I lay on the ground I realised that my pain had dissipated. Then there was suddenly a disgusting smell that filled the lane. I smiled as the phrase ‘Shit Scared’ came to mind.

I heard the biggest thug shout, “Let’s get out of here.”

It was followed by the sound of retreating feet.

The rushing of the wind eased and it became a light zephyr that seemed to caress me for a while before disappearing back into the plaque.

I fell into a peaceful slumber.

I woke some time later with a hand on my shoulder.

“You alright Miss?”

I looked up at a middle aged policeman standing over me, with his car parked next to where I’d been lying.

“What?” I said, very surprised at his polite tone.

“We had a report of a fight, we saw you lying here, and we wondered if you’d been attacked Miss?”

“Thanks but I think I’m OK now,” I said as I stood up surprised at the lack of pain.

“Well let us give you a lift home then Miss, a pretty thing like you shouldn’t be out this late.”

‘Pretty? Me? I looked at him in surprise then I caught my reflection in their car window. I looked like a copy of my younger sister. How?

I turned and looked at the plaque in front of me and quickly understood.

“Thank you Mollies,” I said quietly as I followed the officer into the police car.

 

---

 

I opened my eyes and looked around my bedroom.

My bed felt warm and comforting.

I looked at the shadows of the world outside moving gently on my ceiling.

I felt really content even though I wasn’t sure why.

The phone rang.

I considered answering then decided I needed at least another ten minutes of comfort.

I turned over on my left side away from the unwanted sound.

My chest wobbled much more than usual.

I moved my right hand and touched my much breasts. I noticed something strange about them.

How could they be so big?

Then I remembered and sat up quickly in bed, causing some more rapid, unplanned and slightly painful movement in the chest area.

Some ten minutes later, after the drama of waking up, I was sitting in at the kitchen/lounge table, well the only table, in the tiny flat. I took another sip of my black coffee and wrapped the over large dressing gown tighter around me.

I went over the events of the previous evening in my mind. There was a sort of sense to most of it but then after the painful confrontation with the trans-phobic gang all I could recall was being in a semi dream like state as the thugs ran away and then being given a lift home by two middle aged policemen. I hazily remembered walking up to the three flights of stairs from the entrance to my flat and feeling relieved to have avoided seeing the warden as I came in.

I strained to remember other details. One thing that really stood out from the encounter with the police was one of them telling me I was ‘pretty’.

“Well let’s see,” I said to myself, finishing my coffee and standing up.

I walked the few steps into the bathroom and turned on the light. The face staring back at me was compellingly familiar. My sister five years ago before she had her kids and put on weight. I stood and looked at this strangeness, thinking that I might have made a mistake and been looking at some video or film. I raised my hand to instinctively brush my longer hair out of my face and of course the image in the mirror copied my actions.

I moved my fingers gently over my face, feeling the unfamiliar contours of my new, cute appearance.

“Cute,” I said to myself, “not a bad thing to be and definitely a lot better than being overweight and lacking in the looks department.”

The scraggly look of my hair annoyed me so I picked up my brush and spent the next few minutes trying to get it into some semblance of order. Finally I prepared myself for the complete inspection of my new body.

“Well here goes nothing,” I exclaimed as I dropped my dressing gown to the floor to stand naked in front of my mirror.

I gasped and my hand flew to my mouth as the full reality of my supernatural transformation was framed in the glass. The overall effect, combined with an attractive face and long ash brown hair, was very pleasing. I moved my hands to hold my boobs. Their size was so alien. I wondered how big they were. Eighteen months of hormones had given me thirty eight A, well not quite A but I always told myself that I had reached that psychologically important measurement. My new breasts seemed much, much bigger, especially because of having what looked like a normal girl’s narrower chest.

I began to pose in different positions to gain a better idea of how I looked from all possible angles. From the position of everything in the bathroom it was clear that my suspicions of having lost quite a bit of height were justified. I looked like I might be between about five foot five and five foot seven.

Suddenly there was an urgent knocking on the door.

The shock of the interruption immobilised me. I stood still and held my breath.

The knocking stopped.

I relaxed and resumed normal breathing. Hoping that whoever was wanting to see me had given up and gone. I picked up my dressing gown and started to make my way back to my bedroom in search of something that might fit me.

My mobile rang.

I picked it up and looked at the caller.

It was Liz.

I was just about to answer the phone when a thought suddenly struck me. How could I tell her what had happened to me since I couldn’t even explain it to myself. I put it down and waited.

The ringing stopped and the display indicated four missed calls from Liz and six text messages. There was also a text from Fiona.

I was about to read them when the banging resumed on the door.

“Mollie, are you OK?” shouted my ex-lover.

I walked towards the door, not knowing what to do.

“Mollie, please I just want to make sure you’re OK, I’m so sorry about last night, please let me. I know you’re there I heard your phone ringing.”

I made a sudden decision and quickly unlatched the door before stepping backing back into the living room, out of view of the entrance.

Liz, looking as beautiful as ever in her self designed outfit, walked briskly into my flat, “You OK hun, sorry to have to leave you in the club......who are you?”

She stood in the corridor and stared at me for a few seconds before gaining her composure, “Who are you? Where’s Mollie?”

There was a silence that persisted for a few seconds before I gained the courage to reply, “I’m Mollie.”

“Oh, I see, you’re Mollie too.”

“No, I’m Mollie, there’s only one of me.”

Liz looked at me in obvious confusion. Then she smiled as the only non-supernatural explanation for the presence of a complete stranger in her friend’s flat came to mind.

“Oh, OK, so Michael must have brought you here, is he here at the moment, I’m a really good friend,” Liz responded using my male name.

“Liz, I’m your Mollie and Michael too.”

Liz stared at me for a few seconds and then her smile disappeared and she began to look a little angry, “Look hun, I don’t know what your game is, or if you’re on it, but I want to know where my friend is and I want to know now!”

I hesitated for a few seconds, thinking whether I should lie and tell Liz that Mollie/Michael had gone out for a while. I dismissed that option almost as immediately as it had crossed my mind. There was no way she was going to buy me leaving a strange woman alone in my flat.

I steeled myself for a lengthy battle to overcome her inevitable scepticism.

“Liz can you sit down please,” I said calmly, “and I’ll explain.”

“I don’t like the sound of that,” she said warily.

“Please there’s nothing to be alarmed about. Michael, or Mollie as you know her is perfectly safe and is very happy.”

She sat down uneasily on the edge of the armchair. I sat opposite her on the sofa and began to recount the events of the previous evening.

A quarter of an hour later, after a cup of coffee and some chocolate chip biscuits, Liz was still favouring complete disbelief over acceptance.

“The problem with your story, Mollie, or whoever you are is that you could have been told all of it,” she countered to the latest retelling of my account of Halloween in the city centre.

“OK, ask me some questions that there is no way I could have been told the answers to,” I said, feeling increasingly frustrated, “the more intimate the better.”

“Fine. Where and when did we meet?” she asked.

“Cineworld Cardiff, BiCardiff social, Saturday the twentieth of November, three years ago,” I responded confidently.

“Which you could have learned. So what did we do that night?”

“We chatted and had some drinks.”

“What were you wearing?”

“Jeans, t-shirt and I think I was wearing my leather jacket and you were in your favourite hoodie and cargos.”

“When did we first have sex?”

“Two weeks later, in my room in the hall. You wanted to be bottoms all night but I persuaded you to take turns, you weren’t very happy about it though.”

“Oh shit, Mollie I’m beginning to believe you now.” responded Liz as she seemed to drop her hostility to me and relax back in her chair.

It took only a few more questions for Liz to finally accept the truth of my strange transformation. She moved over from the chair and put her arms around me.

“Mollie, I’m so sorry for everything. I shouldn’t have been so selfish. It must have been so horrible for you.”

I kissed her gently on the cheek, “Liz, It’s OK, don’t beat yourself up about this. Look how it’s turned out for me and there are no bruises, not even a scratch. I feel really good, whatever those Mollies did to change me to this they also seemed to have improved my health.”

Liz relaxed and we sat for a few minutes with her head on my shoulder and me caressing her hair. It felt so good to be close to her again.

“Mollie, what are you going to do?” she asked gently.

“What about Liz?”

“Your family, you going to tell them.”

I laughed harshly, “You must be joking, they’ll be the last to know. I’m an evil pervert in the eyes of their church and their beloved Pastor John. Imagine what they’ll think of me when they find out I’m a product of witchcraft, which is what they’ll consider it.”

“Yep, you’ll be lucky if they burn you at the stake,” responded Liz, “what about Uni?”

“Shit what time is it?”

Liz looked at her elegant wristwatch, “Just after ten thirty.”

“Sugar, Liz can you do me a favour. Can you ring in the office, you know the research office and say, I dunno, can you think of an excuse which doesn’t sound as fantastic as what’s happened”

My best friend paused and then smiled, “You ever heard the phrase ‘being economical with the truth’. I’ve got it covered, why don’t you have a shower while I sort out a few things.”

Three hours later I waved goodbye to Liz as she sped away after dropping me outside my block of student flats. I picked up the four larger carrier bags of best quality clothes from her wardrobe. She had assured me that they were things she no longer wore but I had noticed that some of the items still had their shop labels on. I wondered whether she was trying to assuage her guilt.

As I walked, with a little difficulty, up the stairs it struck me that it was lucky that we were more or less the same size now. There was no way I could have afforded even a quarter of the clothes she had donated to me on my studentship salary. The only I thing had needed to buy was some new bras. We had laughed our heads off when we realised that I was now bigger than her even with her implants.

I opened the door and walked into my flat. I gratefully put the bags down in the middle of the room while I went to make myself a coffee. Suddenly my life seemed to be on the up. Liz had got me a couple of weeks off while she had arranged an almost immediate appointment with her private doctor. She had also promised a job modelling for her department if by some unforeseen problem I was unable to continue my research.

I picked the Guardian out of the shopping bags and began to read it as I sipped my black coffee.

Suddenly there was a knock.

I heard a familiar voice, muffled by the door, “Michael we know you’re there, let us in please. Pastor John is here. He wants to help you from the path of evil you’re on.”

It was my Mother!

---

To Be Continued
 

 

---

 

"Hello," I said as I pulled the door open a little way.

My Mother paused in mid-knock and looked at me. She opened her mouth to say something but nothing came out as she continued to stare at me obviously shocked by my resemblance to my sister.

I opened the door a little more and feigned non-recognition of my angry looking parent and her middle aged corpulent evangelical companion.

"Hello there," said Pastor John, taking the initiative from my dumbstruck Mother.

"Can I help you?" I asked as cooly as possible without obviously giving offence.

"We're here to see Michael," said the smarmy pastor.

"Who are you then?" I asked, maintaining my frosty tone.

At last Mother found her voice, "I'm his mother and this is his pastor, who are you young lady and what are you doing in his flat?"

I hesitated for a moment, trying to think of a suitable explanation and then inspiration came, "Oh in that case you'd better come in, I'm ..Mollie, his girlfriend."

There was stunned silence as they followed me into the sitting area. I realised I needed to maintain the advantage of surprise so I waved my hand in the direction of the bags of clothes, "Sorry about the mess, I've just brought over my clothes from where I was staying before."

Mother and Pastor John sat down opposite me still obviously completely floored by this unexpected development. Their bisexual transsexual child apparently returned to the path of church sanctioned 'normality'

"You mean you're Michael's girlfriend?" squeaked Mother at last.

I smiled back at her as neutrally as possible to hide my feelings of nausea at being in their bigoted presence, "I did say that didn't I?"

"But I don't understand, he said he was sinning against nature, how can he have a girlfriend?" asked Mother.

"Sorry? What did you say? I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about?”

They looked at each other in surprise and then Pastor John attempted an explanation, “Well..what Mrs Thomas meant was we are concerned about....well you could call it his lifestyle choices.”

I paused for a few seconds with my reply. It was a bit of a shock, after everything else, to be confronted with their ignorance and bigotry. I fought to suppress my anger and my desire to scream at them to get out of my flat. I took a slow deep breath and then responded in a measured tone, “I hope you’re not implying there is something wrong with my being his girlfriend.”

The pair exchanged glances before my Mother replied, “No, no, not at all, although since we know nothing about you. Since Michael has never mentioned you, well..I don’t really know what to think.”

“I guess you’ll have to talk to him about it then,” I said trying to avoid any further discussion, “would you like a coffee or something. I'm not sure when he’ll be back."

"Thank you Mollie," responded Pastor John as he very obviously stared at my breasts, " A coffee would be lovely."

Mother nodded her agreement and I gratefully escaped the unpleasant company to busy myself in the kitchen area. As I prepared the drinks, making sure I made my own cup with a double dose of coffee granules, I heard the other two whispering, unfortunately loud enough for me to make out everything they were saying.

"I can't get over how much she looks like Michael's sister," whispered my Mother.

"I can't see it myself, but at least it means your son is no longer on his sinful path of deviation," replied the leering churchman.

"But if they're living together there's still the issue of unwed familiarity,"

Their conversation ceased as I turned and walked over with the drinks.

There was an uncomfortable silence between us as we all sipped. After a few minutes I asked, "Shall I phone Michael, he didn't tell me you were coming?"

"It's OK, dear, it was supposed to be a surprise," responded Mother with a cold smile, "we'll wait."

There was a silence as the three of us took sips from our drinks.

"So tell us a little about yourself Mollie," said my Mother.

I hesitated before replying, "Umm, what would you like to know?"

She stared at me strangely, "Well the usual I expect, where are you from, when did you meet Michael and are you a chaste person."

I thought for a second or two, "It isn't really any of your business whether I am chaste or not but as it happens Michael and myself have no intention of having a physical relationship at the moment."

I paused for the words I had chosen carefully to be misinterpreted by the religious pair. There was a noticeable relaxation in their attitude as I apparently conformed to another one of their tests of acceptance. I then continued with a genuine sounding background based on one of my friends from the Way Out Club.

After about ten minutes of fabricating a hopefully consistent history I became tired of the increasingly probing questions and excused myself to hang up my newly acquired wardrobe.

As I carefully emptied the bags and put Liz’s designer clothes away I considered my options. I really wanted to try on some of my new outfits and see how they complemented my new completely female body. I also needed to have a long discussion with Liz about how I was going to somehow explain these drastic changes to my employers. More immediately I wanted to get rid of the obnoxious pair sitting on my sofa.

Suddenly I had an idea. I dialled Liz’s number.

"Hi Mollie, what’s up I’m a little busy now"

"Liz I’ve got a little problem, can you send me a text in ten minutes"

"What’s happened"

"Don’t worry I can sort it out and I’ll tell you later, I just need to receive a text in a few minutes"

"You sure you’re OK?"

"I’m fine, just send me the text, OK?"

"OK, talk later, kisses."

I disconnected, smoothed down my skirt, adjusted my bra and my tank, gave my hair a quick brush and then ventured back into the living room and the unpleasant company there.

Fifteen minutes later with the conversation lagging, as I feigned interest in my formerly estranged sister and her family, I had all but given up hope of rescue from my mental torment when at last the brief Marimba phrase sounded from my iPhone. I excused myself and checked the message.

'Sorry Moll, got held up, ring me xx'

I took my time looking at the phone, trying to give the impression that the message was longer and more detailed than the reality.

I looked up and tried to effect a little concern in my voice, "Sorry, that was Michael, I've got to go, he's got a problem at the lab."

"We'll come with you then?" said Pastor John, enquiringly.

"I'm so sorry, it's a restricted facility, you won't be able to go in." I responded firmly.

"In that case we'll be happy to wait here until you come back," countered my Mother.

"I really don't know how long we'll be, I'm so sorry, but we could be there till late or even all night. He told me this morning that there could be a problem with his latest experiment," I responded as forcefully as possible.

Pastor John looked at Mother who shook her head before replying, "Listen, Mollie we are very keen to see my son today, so if it's all the same to you we'd like to wait as long as it takes."

I felt a little bile in my throat as I realised my careful plan, to rid myself of the unwanted ‘pleasure’ of my Mother's company, was rapidly unravelling. I searched in my mind for a way round my dilemma. There was only one other option. I would have to kick them out now, as politely as possible.

I stood up to add a little emphasis to what I needed to say, "I am really sorry but I will have to insist on you leaving. The college authorities are very insistent on tenants supervising any visitors to their flats, in fact it's a condition of staying here. So if you don't mind, I have to change and go to see Michael as soon as possible."

I quickly walked over to the door and opened it and then continued, "I'll tell him you called and get him to phone you, he does have your number, doesn't he?"

Mother and Pastor John reluctantly got up from the sofa and made their way towards me.

"If you could find me a piece of paper," said Mother pausing by the door, "I'll write it down, in case he's forgotten, it's been such a long time, he never seems to make much effort about contact."

I fumed at my Mother’s distortion of the reality of our estrangement as I handed her an old envelope from the shelf by the front door along with a pen. She scribbled down the number I knew only too well before shoving it back in my hand. After one final exhortation for me to remind her son to contact her they left the flat and made their way down the stairs.

I watched them until they disappeared from sight and then closed the door. I stood with my hand resting on the door, for a few moments, breathing slowly to release the tension. Then I turned and made my way back into the living area and flopped on the sofa. The painful bouncing of my new breasts, as I fell back on the cushions, reminded me of the drastic nature of the changes to my body and the need to change some of my basic habits.

I lay there for for a few minutes thinking about the last time I’d seen my Mother, when she’d more or less told me never to darken their door ever again. I smiled thinking about the effectiveness of my deception. If she and her religious zealot companion knew about the source of my physical changes they wouldn’t just be accusing me of sinful lifestyle choices they’d be collecting the wooden faggots and piling them in the village square.

I shivered at the distasteful image and sat up having resolved a course of action.

Fifteen minutes later I reached the entrance to Warren Street underground station. I’d quickly grabbed a shoulder bag, put on one of Liz’s leather jackets and left my flat not wanting to stay there a moment longer in case my unpleasant guests returned.

It had been such a sense of freedom to start walking down the street as a woman without worrying about passing, or as more often in my previous body, not passing. I’d noticed some fellow pedestrians looking at me longer than necessary while passing, which I’d found disconcerting. But at least the glances were no longer thinly disguised disgust.

I stepped into the station, grateful for the relief from the keen Autumn wind, and took out my phone. Liz answered after three rings.

"So what was that about?" she asked.

I quickly explained about the visit.

"Are you OK now?"

"I’m fine but can we meet I’ve been thinking about everything that’s happened."

"Well, I’m a bit tied up, you know with the new collection and...."

I interrupted her, "Listen, Liz, what if I change back?"

There was a pause for a few seconds.

"Are you still there?" I asked.

"Oh my god, I never considered that, OK Moll, I’ll be there as soon as I can, where’ll you be in about an hour?"

"How about M and S, the café?"

"OK, see you there."

I replaced the phone in my bag, bought a ticket and walked down to the Victoria Line southbound platform. As usual it was busy even though it was still early in the afternoon, hours before the manic rush hour. A train came in five minutes and I managed to get one of the last seats for the short journey to Oxford Circus.

I looked around the carriage. It was the usual mixture of young and old, tourist and resident, male and female. I noticed an attractive young man, standing by the doors, looking at me. I caught his gaze and he averted his eyes. I felt somehow flattered by the interest, a strange, unsettling but pleasant feeling.

The slight smile that appeared on my lips was wiped away a second later as I noticed another much older man, who was sitting opposite me, almost drooling at the mouth as he stared at my breasts.

I pulled my jacket tighter around me, stood up and manoeuvred through the crowded space towards the door so that I could turn my back towards him. Even then I imagined his eyes boring into me, exposing my body for his distasteful pleasures.

Less than a minute later I was grateful when the train slowed as it reached Oxford Circus. The doors opened and I was swept out with the exiting throng. I resisted the temptation for a final view of my elderly ‘admirer’ and walked straight ahead along platform and then up the escalators.

Ten minutes later I was sitting down in the cafe with a steaming, luxury hot chocolate warming my cold hands.

The weather had taken a turn for the worse since I’d left the flat and the walk from the tube station had been in the face of a cold easterly wind. It looked like it was going to rain later and I now regretted not having brought a coat with me. I’d decided to treat myself before doing a bit of shopping while I waited for Liz.

As I took my first sips of the sweet, hot, reviving liquid I took out my phone. I’d heard the alert on Oxford Street but hadn’t wanted to stop to read it while I was walking.

I read the message from Fiona, thanking me for my earlier text when I’d reassured her of my safety. She also reminded me of our ‘date’ later on.

I considered whether to continue with the arrangement. On the one hand I really wanted to see her again. On the other hand I wondered whether she would really be as accepting about my changes as Liz had.

After a couple of minutes of indecision, I typed my reply.

‘See you later, Fiona, please don’t be surprised by how I look xx’

When I’d finished I put my phone in my bag, muttering, “In for a penny.”

“Sorry were you talking to me?” asked an unfamiliar voice.

I looked up to see a very attractive man sitting on the armchair opposite to mine. He looked like he was in his late twenties and was wearing an extremely smart expensive looking suit.

“I’m so sorry, just talking to myself, first sign of madness and all that,” I explained.

He smiled before responding, “I’ve heard people say that but they’re wrong in every way.”

“How?” I responded feeling intrigued by his definite opinion.

“It’s actually a sign of someone being self aware and seeking insight into their actions. A proof of humanity if you like,” the stranger explained, leaning forwards in his chair.

I sipped a little more of my chocolate while I considered how to reply.

“Well, thanks, it’s nice to be told something good about myself.”

“You’re welcome, I’m Phil by the way,” he said, holding out his hand.

I touched his hand briefly with my own, “Mollie.”

He smiled again before continuing in his confident masculine voice, “An unusual name and from your accent I bet you’re not from London.”

I was beginning to feel like a rabbit caught in the headlights of an approaching car. This unexpected attention was very disconcerting while at the same time strangely pleasurable. I felt parts of my body beginning to respond to the close presence of this handsome man.

“I’m from Wales,” I replied, a little timidly, “and you?”

“A native of the big city. North London, do you know Haringey?”

I nodded.

“I was brought up in a place called Crouch End. We used to go on holiday in Wales quite often, where are you from?”

I explained about coming from Cardiff and we talked about parts of Wales we’d both visited. Phil told me he was a senior civil servant at the Department of Culture. He was very surprised when I told him I was a PhD student in experimental and theoretical particle physics.

I was enjoying our conversation so much that I almost jumped out of my seat at the sound of a text message. I glanced at my phone and read Liz’s message.

‘Leaving now c u in 15 xx’

“I’m sorry Phil, I’ve got to go now,” I said regretfully, “that was my friend, I’m meeting her in a few minutes.”

I felt his hand gently touch my arm. It made me feel tingly inside.

“I’m sorry too, Mollie. I’d really like to see you again. Perhaps you’d let me take you out to dinner?”

I surprised myself with my answer, “Yes, I’d really like that.”

He took my number and promised to ring me later. I walked away with my head in the clouds after a final touch of hands in farewell.

Five minutes later still in a semi dreamlike state I put my collection of new bras on the counter of the checkout.

The assistant rang up my purchases and I handed over my debit card.

She looked at the card and checked before looking back at me.

“I’m sorry Miss, you don’t look much like a Michael”

I felt like the ground was opening up underneath me. I was snapped back into reality but was too stunned to do or say anything.

For what seemed an age, but was only a few seconds, I stood and stared back at her. She moved her head slightly and nodded.

The next thing I felt was a firm hand on my shoulder and an assertive voice saying, “Excuse me Miss would you mind accompanying me to the Manager’s office.”

---

To Be Continued
 

 

---

 

I turned round to see a tall, well built man standing behind me with his hand firmly on my shoulder. I noticed his store security badge and felt the authority in his voice as he spoke again, "If you could follow me now Miss I'm sure we can sort this out quickly."

He picked up the packet of bras from the counter and turned to walk away. I felt the pressure of his hand pushing me away from the queue. I looked round in the vain hope of rescue from my predicament. The eyes of the customers standing behind me were rapidly averted as I scanned their faces, hoping for a sympathetic glance.

How was I going to explain the situation, how was I going to account for my lack of an identity. The euphoria of the morning, already dented by the visit of my Mother and her bigoted Pastor, had by now completely evaporated. The only thing I could think about was the probability of being carted off to a police cell and maybe a secure psychiatric ward when I tried to explain what had happened.

With my head down I took a step in the direction indicated by the store detective. My dejection somehow reminded me of meeting the old woman in the street outside the Way Out Club the previous night. I remembered her words I'd heard which had come to my aid when I was attacked.

‘If you need help tonight ask the Mollies'

"If only you could help me now Mollies" I whispered to myself.

Suddenly I felt a zephyr like breeze brush my face and hair. At the same time a warm feeling suffused my body. I felt imbued with a new resolve. I stood up straight and turned round to face the shop employee trying to move me towards the manager's office. I lifted his hand off my shoulder with a strength I didn't know I possessed.

He looked at me in astonishment, apparently powerless to resist.

"If you would excuse me I would like to complete this purchase," I said firmly.

He looked at me for a few seconds, taken aback by my new confidence before replying in a placatory tone, "Of course Miss, we will be happy to assist you as soon as possible. We just need to confirm your identity, since it is clearly not your own credit card."

"I suppose it hasn't crossed your mind that I might have a boyfriend?" I countered sarcastically, "who might have given me his card to use."

"Of course Miss, as I said, we just need to confirm your identity, we are not implying you have done anything wrong. I'd be grateful if you could follow me to Mr Raptor's office he will sort you...this out to everyone's satisfaction."

I hesitated, torn between cutting my losses and making a quick escape from what could be a difficult interview or trying to bluff my way out of the situation.

Before I could decide what to do I felt an arm around my shoulder and heard a familiar, attractive voice, "Ah there you are darling, sorry I'm late."

I turned around to see the smiling face of Phil. He winked at me. I returned the smile and gave him a kiss on the cheek, "No problem darling, I just seem to have a little bother here."

His eyes widened in response to my gesture of affection, "What's the problem, Mollie?"

"The shop doesn't want to let me use your credit card, Michael," I replied, speaking louder than necessary, emphasising the name on the card and winking.

Phil turned to the security guard, "Why is this a problem?"

The poor store official looked completely nonplussed by our little piece of theatre. He blinked a few times as he tried to come to terms with the completely unexpected turn of events.

"Um..um.. well it seems we have made a mistake here. I'm so sorry Miss," he said while he handed the card and the packet of bras to Phil.

"Was this what you wanted, darling?"

I nodded and Phil quickly handed the packet to the assistant along with two twenty pound notes. Within seconds she had rung up the sale, bagged the bras with the invoice and we were walking confidently away while she served the next customer.

"Thank you so much," I whispered.

Phil put his arm around my shoulder, "Keep smiling and don't say anything else until we're out of the shop, that security guard is still suspicious."

Every step through the busy store was filled with anxiety as I kept expecting a shop employee to stop us.

Finally after what seemed like minutes, but was in reality less than thirty seconds, we reached the pavement outside.

Phil removed his arm from my shoulder and turned to me, “Are you OK Mollie?”

I looked at him and nodded, too shocked speak. I began to shiver.

“Come on,” he said, touching my forearm gently, “let me buy you a drink and you can tell me what that was all about.”

I followed him towards the Dog and Duck. It was, not surprisingly given the time of day, crowded with a mixture of tourists and central London office workers. We were in luck as a elderly Japanese couple were leaving a small nearby table as we walked in. Phil went to get some drinks while I sat down and tried to make sense of the latest craziness in my day.

My phone buzzed. It was Liz! I’d forgotten about our meeting. I took out my phone and read her message.

‘In cafe, where are you?’

I considered my response. Would Liz’s presence make everything more complicated. I hesitated before deciding that whatever I told Phil as an explanation would be more believable with Liz there to corroborate.

‘In the Dog and Duck, problem in shop, come join us’

Her reply was almost instant.

‘Who’s us?’

‘A very fit guy :-)’

I smiled as I switched my phone to silent. I knew my last text would motivate Liz to join me.

“Nice to see you smiling. You feeling better now?”

I looked up to see Phil setting two small spirit glasses down on our table.

“Yes, thanks, what’s this?” I asked, not being a regular alcohol drinker.

“Double whisky, sip it slowly, it’ll help you relax.”

I raised the glass to my lips and let a little of the amber liquid to enter my mouth. The initial burning sensation was brief and then I felt the soothing effects as the alcohol entered my system. I sat back in my chair feeling the tension in my body evaporating. There was silence between us for a few seconds and then I became aware of Phil staring at me with a smile on his face.

I smiled back, "I suppose I owe you an explanation."

"I think you may do, although I must admit I enjoyed my role in that little drama."

I stared at him blankly, "What role?"

Phil smiled broadly at me before replying, "Well as your boyfriend of course.”

“Um..yes..I suppose...you..,” I spluttered, feeling my face colouring in my embarrassment.

“Don’t worry Mollie, I’m not presuming anything, it was a bit of fun, but maybe I can take you out later for that dinner I promised earlier?”

I hesitated to answer. On the one hand I couldn’t hide my obvious attraction to him while I was so confused at the strangeness of everything. The idea of going out with a man was so out of my comfort zone but it was a beguiling prospect.

I looked at him, his warm handsome face, tender concern in his eyes. My mind was in a turmoil.

“Are you OK?” he asked.

“I’d love to,” I said, quietly.

“You’d love to...?”

“Go out....with you, but I can’t today, sorry, but tomorrow?”

A broad smile spread across his face, “That’s great, and maybe we could go to a club later, you like clubbing?”

“Love it, what sort of clubs do you go to?”

We chatted for a few minutes about our interests in music and clubs we’d visited in London. I relaxed in Phil’s easy company and enjoyed being with someone who found me attractive for once rather than showing the usual looks of distaste. I felt my resolve weakening as I looked at the handsome man sitting next to me. Did I really want to lose my new friendship and maybe something more so quickly?

“Penny for them?”

“What?”

“You seemed a million miles away there?” Phil explained.

I smiled and took a deep breath. I had no choice, I had to find out what had happened to me and I couldn’t create even more complications in my life by creating a whole false female upbringing.

“Sorry I was thinking how to explain today to you,” I said, before pausing to consider how to start the story.

“Don’t worry I’ve already guessed it’s your boyfriend’s card, or maybe your ex’s?” Phil suggested, hopefully.

I laughed, “If only it were that simple......do you believe in magic?”

Phil spluttered and coughed as my question obviously took him by surprise and a little of his whisky went down the wrong way. I gave him a few gentle taps on his back to ease his coughing.

He took out his handkerchief to wipe his mouth, “Sorry but excuse me for saying, that’s an unexpected question. Didn’t you say you’re doing a PhD in physics? Is magic some new particle? Sorry my science is GCSE only.”

“Magic, as in witches, body transformations and stuff like that.”

There was a pause as he obviously began to wonder whether he’d made a mistake in assuming my complete sanity. He hesitated for a few seconds while he considered his response.

“OK, well as I said before I work for the Department of Culture and, as it happens in the folklore department, so I’ve read and collated a lot of the old stories,”

He paused.

I leant forward and lightly put my hand on his arm, “But do you think there’s anything in it. Is there such a thing as real magic, you know like transforming someone into a different shape?”

“I don’t really think it’s possible, but who knows, I’m open minded and it would be arrogant to think we understand everything about nature,” he responded.

I relaxed a little but was immediately tense again as he continued, “Why do you ask?”

I moved my hand away, sat back in my chair and considered how to explain what had happened to me.

“Is something wrong Mollie?”

“Listen Phil I need to tell you something but you’re going to find it very strange so I’d like to wait for my best friend to come, OK?”

“OK”

There was silence between us a for a couple of minutes as we sipped our drinks.

Phil looked at his watch, “Will she be long, I need to get back to work soon.”

“Hey Mollie,” said Liz as she walked towards our table.

I pulled up a chair and made the introductions. Liz was looking particularly glamorous and I could see that Phil was attracted.

He graciously offered to fetch her a drink and went to the bar for her Campari and soda.

After he’d left I moved my chair close to Liz’s and spoke quietly to her, “Listen, I need to tell Phil what happened, I think he might be able to help and I......”

Liz smiled, held my hands and looked me in the eye, “You fancy him, don’t you?”

“I think I do but........”

“But what? Why do you have to tell him. You’re a woman now in all possible ways, what’s wrong with being attracted to a fit man.”

“But, Liz what if I’m not tomorrow?”

“Ohmigod....”

“What’s happening tomorrow, Mollie?” asked Phil.

We turned around to see him standing at our table with Liz’s drink.

I gestured to Phil to sit down, “I wish I know what’s going to happen tomorrow, but I can tell you about yesterday and Liz will back me up.”

“OK, I’m listening,” he said, after he’d sat down.

I hesitated trying to think of the best way to start explain my fantastic tale, in the end I just plunged straight in, “I looked very different yesterday.”

“This is starting to feel like Jerry Springer, I suppose you’re going to say you used to be a man,” Phil commented a little sarcastically as he took another swig of his whisky.

“Yes.”

He swallowed the wrong way and started to cough again.

---

To Be Continued