Part One

"Look Mum," said Simon in an excited voice pointing to the departure screen. "Our flight has just changed to "Proceed to gate 65".

"Okay Simon," she replied with a smile. "Shall we wander across now?"

With a nod Simon walked with his parents from the duty free area towards the gate.

***

"Cabin crew to landing seats," said the captains voice over the airplanes speakers.

Tom looked out of the window and noticed that the houses were now clear. "Mum we just went past a house with a pool," he pointed out to the lady seated next to him. "Fancy having an outdoor pool in England, it's rarely that warm."

Soon they passed over the airport perimeter fence and touched down on the runway.

"Welcome to London Gatwick. The local time is twenty five past six and the temperature is currently six degrees Celsius," stated Anna, the head stewardess. "Please stay seated till the plane has come to a complete stop at the terminal."

***

Simon was stood by the glass window watching the activity on the ground below. The plane parked at gate 65 was being loaded with food. Glancing to his right he noticed activity at gate 69. It looked like they were preparing for a plane to dock.

"Dad," he said walking back to his parents. "Can I go and watch the plane dock at 69?"

"Yes son. However don't wander any further away. I know that this is quite exciting; being your first flight, so enjoy watching."

"Thanks Dad." Simon wandered over to the gate to get a good look. He noticed a plane slowing down on the runway, which was visible in the distance. The plane turned off the main runway and made its way to the terminal building.

***

As the terminal building came into view passengers started to get up and extract luggage from the overhead cabinets. A few beeps were heard as people turned on their mobile telephones.

"Please remain seated with you seatbelts securely fastened till we come to a complete stop and the captain has switched of the fasten seatbelt sign," reminded one of the stewards. "Also it is against the law to turn on your mobile telephones till you are in the terminal building."

People reluctantly sat down but people ignored the message about keeping the mobiles turned off. Instead of the offenders switching of the phones they just put them into their pockets. The plane was not in the air so what harm would it do?

***

Simon watched the plane head towards gate 69. It slowed down as it approached and was now almost crawling towards journeys end.

***

As the plane inched towards the building people again began to stand and pull luggage from the overhead cabinets. More beeps were heard as people again began to switch on the phones.

In the cockpit however things weren't as rosy. The main computer for the plane was failing.

"We've just lost the brakes," informed the engineer. "The back up system is not responding."

"We're still travelling too fast for friction to stop the plane before the terminal building," stated the co-pilot.

"On board communication failure," called the engineer.

"The building should stop us without much damage to the plane," theorised the captain. "I just hope everyone is still strapped in. You two evacuate the cockpit and I'll try and manoeuvre to avoid people."

***

Simon stood fixated by the window as the plane rolled on. The front door of the plane had passed the ‘finger' that passengers alighted from and showed no sign of stopping. Simon turned towards his parents and saw them walking towards him. The plane skewed slightly to one side and thinking something strange was happening started to walk towards them.

The plane hit the terminal building causing a loud smashing sound as the glass windows broke and came to an abrupt halt as it smashed into a main support strut.

Everyone in the area had turned to see what was happening and most had become rooted to the spot they were in. A deep rumble started and the ground shook like an earthquake. Bits of plaster fell from the roof and then a few seconds later the area between gate 67 and 71 collapsed.

***

"We have some breaking news," said the presenter on BBC News 24. "Part of the south terminal at Gatwick airport collapsed at just after half six this morning when a plane failed to stop at the arrival gate. Airport and local fire crews are at the site and are conducting a major rescue operation. Airplanes are still landing but are currently being diverted to the north terminal. Departures are currently suspended so not to interfere with the rescue.

"Details are still sketchy and we will return to the story in a few moments but first the rest of the headlines…"

***

Simon slowly regained consciousness. He tried opening his eyes but his head hurt too much. Over the next ten minutes he regained more of his senses and was able to open his eyes.

"I'm trapped," he thought to himself as he looked around. A small shaft of light provided a twilight effect and was vaguely able to see his temporary prison. He moved his head and saw he was encased. He gradually began to recollect the moments before the incident. The plane not stopping, the roof collapsing and seeing his parents getting covered in falling debris. This was all too much and tears trickled gently down his grimy face. His mother had nearly reached him but it was all in vain.

Noticing that the there was a bit of height to the cocoon Simon decided to move to a more comfortable position. However as he tried to move he felt an excruciating pain, which caused him to blackout.

***

"We are now going live to Gatwick airport where Roger Lyons the airport manager is about to bring us up-to-date with the current situation."

"At six thirty-three this morning the inbound flight AW101 from Miami failed to stop at the terminal building and crashed into the main structure causing a localised collapse. We have two separate rescue operations currently on going. The first, the evacuation of the plane, is nearly complete. The second, to find survivors in the remains of the building, is still ongoing and is likely to last for several hours.

"The evacuation of the plane took longer than necessary as some passengers had unbuckled and were not still seated. People strapped in had trouble evacuating the plane due to blocked gangways. There were several serious injuries and they have been evacuated to East Surrey Hospital in Redhill. The only fatality on the plane was the pilot.

"By looking at CCTV records we have identified that five people are missing. Four people due to go out on flight AW402 to Orlando and one maintenance worker. Three of the four passengers missing are from the same family.

We have the fire service Search and Rescue team actively trying to locate and ascertain the health of the trapped individuals. International Rescue Corps are on route to provide valuable assistance and should be here within the next thirty minutes. We also have search dogs on route which coupled with thermal imaging cameras should help locate the people. From CCTV footage taken about ten seconds before the collapse we have a good idea of where to dig and we all pray for a happy conclusion to this terrible incident.

Does anybody have any questions?"

"Sandy Brown, Sky News, is there any news of what happened to the airplane to cause it to fail to stop?"

"Air investigators will be removing the black box recorders to analyse the issue surrounding the incident. It is too soon to comment on the cause and further questions should be addressed to the head of the investigation team."

"Nick Saunders, CNN, I believe flight arrivals are still going to the north terminal. Is this going to continue and when are departures going to resume?"

"North terminal departures have not been suspended and are currently on schedule. We are currently looking at transferring some of the south terminal departures to the north terminal to provide a limited capacity. Check-in and customs will still occur at the south terminal and we will bus passengers to the north terminal for flights. We are not allowing any arrivals or departures from the south terminal so not to impact the rescue operation."

An official wearing a bright yellow visibility jacket walked up to Roger and whispered in his ear. Roger nodded in response.

"I am needed else where and must terminate this briefing,"

***

Simon awoke to the dull ache of lingering pain. "Don't move," he thought. "I don't want to suffer pain like that again."

He listened intently to see if he could hear anything. Nothing was heard. No, what is that? Is that the faint sound of a dog barking in the distance? What the hell is a dog doing here?

"HELLO!" Simon shouted at the top of his voice. He then had a small coughing fit with all the dust that had settled into his lungs. "Is there anybody there?"

He heard a faint reply coming to his left but appeared to be lower than him. "Is that you Simon?"

"Oh my," Simon thought and then called, "Mum is that you? Are you okay? Have you heard from Dad?"

"I'm fine. Just hold on tight and listen for the rescuers. I saw a program on TV the other day with how they rescue people after earthquakes. There were specialists from the UK there so I am sure there will be a lot of people working to get us out. They even bring in special sniffer dogs that can smell people trapped in rubble."

"I've heard dogs already," Simon replied getting excited jerking slightly. "Ahhhh," he yelled and again passed out in pain.

"Simon. Are you okay?" shouted Simons Mum. "SIMON!"

***

"It is seven hours since the collapse of the terminal building," stated Jason Smith of International Rescue Corps. "We are assisting the fire service in carefully tunnelling to where we think two of the remaining three people are trapped. We have heard the sound of intermittent conversations between two people but we are too far away to make out who they are. The men out there are very buoyed by the successful rescue thirty minutes ago of the maintenance worker who was trapped on the lower floor. This made up for the fatality they found earlier."

"How far from them are you?"

"At the present rate it will take about another two hours before we reach the nearest person and another hour after that to reach the other."

"What about the last remaining person. Is there any sound from him?"

"We heard some noises till about two hours ago but nothing since. However we have had periods of quiet from the other two people but then they restart. It must be very draining without food or water and there bodies will force them to conserve what energy they have."

***

"How are you doing Mum?" asked Simon after recovering consciousness.

"I'm fine," came the weak response. "How is the pain?"

"Not to bad as long as I remember not to move. In between the last three blackouts you've reminded me of some good times we have all had over the years. Please tell me another story from when I was younger."

"No problem Simon." She knew that telling happy stories about his childhood was comforting to her son. It was also comforting to herself as she knew that her situation was a lot worse than his.

Two hours later Simon heard, "Hello can you hear me down there?"

"Yes. YES! I can hear you!" gleefully replied Simon. His voice was getting weaker.

"You don't have to shout as we are nearly there."

"Who are you talking to?" asked Simons Mum.

"The rescuers are nearly to me." Simon replied

"Thank you God," she murmured and then speaking up with her remaining strength, "Simon you speak with the rescue workers now while I have a rest. I love you always."

"I love you too mum. You have a rest now."

"How are you and your Mum coping?" asked the rescue worker.

"I'm trapped by a piece of rubble. If I move I get a lot of pain and blackout. My Mum sounds to be lower than me but has been talking a lot and is tired. She said she was going to have a rest while you get me out."

"Hang tight while we come the last few metres. If we cause disruption to the rubble by you please shout very loudly."

Thirty minutes later a light shone through a gap which startled Simon's eyes and he had to shut them till he got used to the increased illumination. The last few bits of rubble were removed and Simon got the first glimpse of another human since the accident.
"Hi Simon, I'm Jason" introduced the rescuer. "Let me look at how you are trapped."

Jason took a knife out of a hidden pocket and gently cut off Simon's trousers.

"I see how you are trapped and I am going to need to secure this area before we attempt to free you. My colleague Harry who is just approaching is going to secure the roof while I update the rest of the rescue team. In the meantime here is a special bottle of water. It will only let you take sips every minute while we hydrate you."

After his first sip Simon asked, "How are you going to reach Mum?"

"We are building a tunnel not far from here that leads to where her thermal image is showing. Don't worry we aren't going to leave her."

"What about my Dad has there been any news on him?"

"We are still trying to get to him. Don't worry we wont give up till we have you all. I must go and inform everyone and get the medics to check you out. Now relax and make sure that Harry behaves!"

***

Jason emerged from the rubble and after regaining the ability to walk moved to the co-ordination tent.

When all relevant people were assembled the meeting began with Jason, "We have managed to reach Simon who is according to the flight booking a fifteen year old boy. He has been trapped for about twelve hours and is in remarkable spirits; probably due to him having his Mum, who was in earshot, reminiscing about happy events in his childhood. There is a thick piece of metal that protrudes from the top of the rubble and is embedded into the floor. There are two issues with this object. First, it appears when the roof collapsed the metal pierced through his genitalia. Second the metal appears to be part of a building strut and if cut, which is going to be very difficult if not impossible, it might cause the area to collapse. Since his mum, Helen, is not far away it might cause her cavity to also collapse."

"The first thing I need to do is examine the boy," stated Brian Fielding who is an Accident and Emergency consultant. "I will assess his overall health and examine his groin and see how bad the damage is. How wide is the passageway? Will I be able to get in with the emergency bag?"

Jason looked at the offered bag and said, "It will take you about five minutes of slow crawling to reach him. The passage is wide enough to get the bag through but not on your back. You will need to push it in front of you and that will slow you down. I'll come with you and relieve Harry who has been shoring up the area."

Jason the turned to the Airport Manager, "Roger, you can brief the press but please don't comment on the boys status apart from him being alive and receiving onsite medical care while we extract him. It's going to be difficult enough to extract him without the press getting excited."

***

"Hi Simon, I am Dr Fielding. I am from the A and E at the hospital. If it is okay with you I am going to examine you and make sure that you are okay?"

"Go ahead but no jokes; I saw a program last week that said that hospital doctors had the worst sense of humour going."

"Hey, I saw that program," replied Brian as he used the stethoscope to listener to Simon's chest. "I'm sure that it said GP's humour was worse. Anyway it is based in Manchester and they're all weird anyway. Any pains apart from the groin?"

"No. I was a bit thirsty earlier but Jason gave me a special drink which has helped. Do you have any food?"

"Good. We don't want to give you any food just yet as it might be a shock to the system," the doctor replied and also thought to himself "and we might have to operate."

"How am I doing?"

"You appear to be fine. The only issue appears to be a stick of metal impaled through your body. Jason and Harry are investigating removal of the metal but to be honest it isn't going to be easy."

"I didn't think so by the way they were looking at the roof and how it was imbedded into the ground."

"Hey don't panic. We'll get you out of here even if we have to cut you in half!"

"Didn't I say no humour?! Laughing just hurts."

Taking a more serious tone "I am going to ask a specialist to come and examine you're groin as there is some damage down there. He'll asses the damage and then he'll decide what surgery will be required to repair you once we have you out. "

***

Back in the coordination tent Brian started to try and organise what was looking like a medical disaster. After further investigation they found they wouldn't be able to safely remove the metal strut which impaled his patient. He called his secretary, "Nancy, Brian here, I need you to track down a Dr Millard at Charing Cross hospital. If he has left for the day, or on the golf course I need to speak with him. He is a top elective surgeon so is going to be upset at being called. If you can give him my emergency mobile number as I'm still at Gatwick."

Ten minutes later Brian's mobile rang. "Dr Fielding speaking."

"Doctor, this is Tom Millard from Charing Cross. Your secretary interrupted my evening meal and was very instant that I ring you. What case do you have which requires such urgent attention?"

"Are you aware of the incident at Gatwick? Well I am on site and we have a fifteen year old boy with a metal strut impaled through his genitalia with surrounding damage. I am advised that the rod can't be cut without risking another collapse and risking other trapped people. I need your expert advice on the current damage, how reparable it is and what the possibility of cutting a bit of tissue to remove the patient without causing permanent damage."

"Sounds interesting," he replied. "I'm currently about twenty-five minutes away so will drive down."

"I'll get Roger Lyons who is the airport manager to ring you in about twenty minutes and he will give you directions to come straight onto the airfield."

Thirty minutes later the top surgeon was onsite. "So do you have a TV link to show me the damage?"

"No you will need to visit. It is too dark to have a successful uplink."

"You need me to enter a half collapsed building and crawl around on my hands and knees?"

"I'm afraid so. We have some overalls so you don't ruin your designer clothes."

With a bit of a huff he donned the overalls. One thing that Dr Millard took very seriously was his ability to help people with his skills. If he had been called out like this then it must be serious.

"Simon is aware that he is trapped by the rod but he isn't aware that we can't remove it. Unless you think it is necessary please don't inform him yet as I don't want him to panic."

"Lead on and lets see how bad it is."

Ten minutes later they were with Simon. "Hello Simon. I'm Dr Millard. If you can keep still while I look at the problem."

Tom Millard hummed to himself as he looked at the tissue damage and the impact of the metal rod. "What year did you start your puberty?"

"About three years ago."

"Excellent. I'm going to take a blood sample to make on some of your vital statistics. When we get the results back we will have a better idea on how to proceed."

Once outside the tunnel they walked towards the tent. "As you suspected his genitalia are damaged and my assessment is that they are now non functional. There also seems to be collateral damage on the base of the penis. I can perform minor surgery on him to disentangle him from the metal rod but that will cause a total loss of functionality."

"If we could remove the rod what is the prospects?"

"If the testes are damaged, as it appears, then the situation will be the same. The vibration as the rod is cut might actually cause more damage."

"I'll get the tests run via Redhill. As this is classified as emergency we should have them back in the hour. In the meantime plan the surgery. I am assuming a minor operation for extraction, then after stabilising him back to hospital for the remainder. Is there any chance of saving his manhood but leaving him sterilised or is full SRS the only option?"

"We will only know for definite when I have him on the table but there was some damage to the penis. If it has affected the renal track then I'll perform SRS otherwise I will attempt some miracle to keep him male. With his parents trapped we will need to go before a judge."

"I know and with the options open he will have to involve the Official Solicitor to act on Simon's behalf. Once we have him out how much time do you have?"

"The bleeding will be bad and we don't want to lose too much tissue so I'd say about an hour."

"Okay I will get the clinical director at my hospital to get the legal path going. I'll try and get a judgement before we operate to give you maximum time. Can you operate at East Surrey or will you need to go back of Charing Cross?"

"I'd prefer to do it at Charing Cross as I have the staff and equipment needed but if it looks like it needs to be at East Surrey then the operation can start and any specialist equipment that you don't have or personnel can be transferred. Post operational care should occur at Charing Cross even if SRS isn't performed as he will still need psychiatric care and hormonal monitoring."

***

"Please be seated," requested Judge Richardson. "I've reviewed all the information and have spoken at length with both of you. I've also had the Official Solicitor review what in his view is best for the child. He has concluded after speaking with independent medical advisers that what would be in the best interest of the child would be to follow your recommendation. I therefore grant permission for the minor operation to extract Simon from the disaster area and perform the investigation to save the remains of his maleness. If it can't be saved then full SRS is granted. In either case I order substantial post operational psychiatric care to ensure full reintegration into society."

"I know you have been holding out informing Simon regarding the full extent of his injuries. I can't order you to tell him but I think it would only be respectful. Being fully informed before an operation is a cornerstone of British medicine.

"I am also placing a gagging order on the press to stop the publication of any information that will lead to the child's identification being released. This, I hope, will stop the press badgering him during recovery."

***

"Some good news for you", said Roger. "Your mother has been pulled out alive and is on the way to surgery. She is very weak, as she has lost a lot of blood. I'm sorry I don't have more information but she is listed as critical. I've got to go and continue to organise your evacuation but if I hear anything else I will let you know."

Roger then left and the two doctors entered with another new face.

"Simon this is Trevor Brown. He is going to be the anaesthetist for this operation," explained Dr Millard. "He will monitor you while I operate with Dr Fielding assisting me. Once we have you disconnected from the metal strut we will transfer you to hospital and perform an operation on you. The operation will depend on the extent of the damage. We have discovered that you testes have been damaged and can't be repaired. We will examine how badly damaged your penis is. If it is repairable we will do so. If not I will perform a different and very delicate operation we called SRS."

"SRS?" asked Simon.

Taking a deep breath Dr Fielding explained, "SRS is short for Sex Reassignment Surgery. If we can't save your penis then Dr Millard, who is probably the best surgeon in the world for this, will change your structure below to look like a girl."

"Why that? You can't do that to me?" Simon responded in panic. "I don't want to be a girl."

"It isn't something that anybody has a choice in," replied Dr Millard. "We will attempt to fix it but if it's beyond repair then SRS is the next best thing. Are you aware of whom the Official Solicitor is?"

"No."

"Well due to your parents not being able to help you and it being a very serious issue we went to see a judge who had to make a judgement. He appoints somebody who acts on your behalf who is referred to as the Official Solicitor. He only has one aim and that is to protect your interests. He has spoken to several independent medical people and has had them review the case. In the end he has agreed that this operation is your best chance of leading a productive life."

"Well if doctors, solicitors and judges all agree then who am I to stand in your way."

"I'm going to put an intravenous catheter into your left arm," explained Trevor. "Then if there is any other injections we need to give you we won't need to make your arm into a pin cushion."

The catheter was skilfully put into the arm. "Next we need to put you to sleep. I'm going to inject you and I want you to count backwards from ten. If you succeed then you must be a robot!"

Trevor injected to anaesthetic and Simon muttered, "Ten..nine..eight..seve-."

"Lets start," said Dr Millard who as the senior surgeon took charge.

Dr Fielding swabbed the area to be operated on with antiseptic.

"Scalpel."

The scalpel was firmly placed into Dr Millard's right hand. "We are going to make the first incision here. We need to keep as much tissue as possible so we will cut downwards to free from the metal strut. Be ready with the suture as we might have some blood loss. Let's hope it isn't too much as we have no suction."

The operation was difficult due to the cramped conditions. However fifteen minutes later Simon was being placed onto the stretcher. This was a specially modified stretcher with wheels that could work while collapsed. "Breathing normal and a good pulse," informed Trevor. "Let's go."

Dr Fielding went in front and Dr Millard followed behind. Five minutes later they emerged from the rubble into a hurriedly created tarpaulin tunnel. This was to protect to wound and also Simon's identity. At the end of the tunnel was a waiting air ambulance.

"All air traffic has been suspended", shouted Roger over the noise of the helicopters wiring blades. "You should have an uninterrupted journey to the hospital."

"Thanks Roger," replied the doctors as they boarded behind Simon.

"He's strong enough for Charring Cross," said Trevor after he made another check.

Thirty minutes later they were in the operating theatre where all Tom Millard's normal operating staff were waiting. The two doctors and the anaesthetist scrubbed up so they were ready for the delicate surgery. Dr Millard checked the renal pathway, which was damaged beyond repair.

"Please inform Judge Richardson that full SRS is required and that we are proceeding," said Dr Millard to his secretary.

Part Two

About an hour into the operation the theatre telephone rang. "Theatre Four," answered Anna Jones the theatre administrator, "Dr Millard and Dr Fielding are operating."

"This is Dr Adams from East Sussex hospital in Redhill. Please relay a message to Dr Fielding that we are loosing Helen Turner. I believe he is assisting on Simon Turner. Helen is Simon's mother. She has a donor card and I wonder if Simon needs any transplants as they appear to have almost identical tissue matches"

"Dr Fielding, Dr Adams is on the phone saying that Simon's mother, Helen, is about to die. She is a donor and an apparent tissue match to Simon. Dr Adams is giving first refusal on any needed organs."

"Is Dr Adams a qualified harvester?" Dr Millard asked Dr Fielding.

"Yes but we don't need anything do we?"

"Since they have almost identical tissue we could try and help Simon regain the ability to have children. We could harvest Helens complete womb and ovaries and attempt to transplant into Simon. We have attempted this once before but the tissue match wasn't close enough and she suffered rejection."

"How much tissue is required? I take it isn't just the organ but some of the surrounding tissue."

"Correct. Would you mind if my assistant Dr Barbara Smith assists. She was involved on the previous attempt and is aware of what is required to be removed."

"Anna, please tell Dr Adams that we do require a transplant and that he will have a specialist with him shortly," instructed the doctor.

While they awaited the harvested organ the two doctors continued the delicate operation. Blood vessels were diverted and eventually the remains of his penis was removed. Next Simon's prostate was removed as its function would no longer be required.

"Normally the penis isn't removed like this as we invert the skin to create the vagina wall. Since the organ will contain this tissue we will not need to do this. Actually this will have the added affect of not having to retrain the tissue so Simon won't have the inconvenience of dilation."

When the organs arrived they opened the bottom half of Simon's torso rather like a caesarean section. They placed them in the body and began the mammoth task of wiring them up. More blood vessels were moved and added. With the work finished Simon was closed. The external work was relatively simple as most of the external facet was also part of the transplant. Simon would indeed be able to enjoy sex as well as a female.

Eight hours later the operation was complete and as Simon was wheeled into the recovery room the pressure and adrenaline that had kept the team going faded. By the time they had removed their gowns there wasn't much anybody wanted to do but sleep. Dr Millard's secretary was her usual efficient self and had organised taxi's to take everyone home. Driving in this level of exhaustion would be very dangerous.

In the recovery room Sam Ivory took over as the on duty anaesthetist. Simon was brought out of the anaesthetic and as he came round was given a sedative to keep him asleep for another twelve hours. Sam knew that the doctor would want to be available when he came round.

***

Tom Millard was in his office writing an article for the journal Nature. It was ten hours since the end of the operation. The doctor was already known as one of the best surgeons for transsexuals. However, he hoped that this transplant would make him as famous as Christian Barnard. His thoughts were interrupted by a sharp knock on the door.

"Enter," barked Tom putting his fountain pen down and putting his first draft onto the side. In the room entered a young lady who looked no more than thirty.

"Dr Rachel Ruiz. I believe you spoke to my boss about a paediatric psychiatrist assisting in a difficult case?"

"Thank you for coming. Please shut the door and take a seat. The case is subject to a judicial gagging order to help protect the child. What you hear about the case mustn't be discussed without authority especially not with the press."

"I never discuss cases," replied Rachel in a hurt tone. "It isn't ethical and I resent you questioning my professionalism."

"Sorry that I didn't phrase it very well. I'm obliged by the injunction to reiterate the confidentiality."

"Apology accepted. Now can you explain why you need a paediatric psychiatrist in a ward for transsexuals? Wouldn't it be best to get an expert from the Portman Clinic at St Georges?"

"Their psychiatric department has nobody free for a cross site visit and this case may require more intensive intervention which I am told you are better qualified for. Did you see the details of the incident at Gatwick yesterday?"

"Yes. Does this case involve that child who was trapped in the rubble and whose parents died?"

"Yes. There was a metal building strut that had pierced destroyed his genitals and functionality of the penis. Since his legal guardians where unavailable the judge, under advisement of the Official Solicitor, opted for SRS. Simon was advised before being anesthetised that SRS was a possibility. Since he wasn't a transsexual the surgery is probably going to cause him intense psychological issues."

Rachel thought for a moment and said "I'm also concerned about potential suicide. Leaving aside the SRS he has just lost both his parents. Is there any other family?"

"Not that anybody has been able to trace. Social Services are already trying to get involved but are being obstructed by the judge till you have judged his mental state."

"Social services will need to be involved but I agree that at this time they would just complicate an already dire situation. Back to the surgery; has any other cosmetic surgery been performed such as breast augmentation?"

"Other surgery will need to be decided when Simon understands what we have done to him and what options he has. He is still sedated and will be asleep for about another couple of hours."

"Okay. I've another patient to visit so can you page me when he is awake?"

As Tom Millard nodded Rachel handed him her card and got up to leave when there was a knock on the door.

"Enter."

A nurse, who was wearing a ward sister's uniform, entered the room.

"Sorry to disturb you but you wanted a report every two hours on your special patient. Pulse and other vital signs are still stable."

"Thank you Sally. Sally Archer this is Dr Ruiz. She will be helping with Simon when he wakes up."

"Hi Rachel," said Sally. "Dr Ruiz and I share a flat so we already know each other."

"Excellent," responded Tom Millard. "Well this should help with you both being involved with Simon."

Rachel and Sally left while Tom thought about the boy for a moment and then continued his article for Nature.

***

Around four Simon started to wake up. The on duty staff that had been monitoring him during his sleep was aware that he was the boy from the terrible accident and that he wasn't aware of his true fate. Being a ward for post operative male to female transsexuals it was very unusual to have a person with a male name. The nurses had put together an internal sweepstake for which girls name he would choose. Fifty pounds went to the winner. The nurses were not aware of the transplant as the doctors didn't want the news to leak, especially as there was supposed to be a press ban on the boy.

As Sally Archer was walking past the private sideroom that Simon was occupying she heard a faint groan. She entered the room and saw his open eyes.

"Hi Simon, I'm Sally Archer," introduced they 28 year old nurse. "I'm the nursing sister on the ward where you will be staying while you recover."

"I feel thirsty. Can I have something to drink?"

"Of course," she relied. "Just lie there for a moment while I get you a drink. I'll also get Dr Millard who operated on you last night. He has asked that I call him when you awaken."

A few minutes later Dr Tom Millard walked into the room with the nurse and another lady.

"Hello again Simon. I take it you find the bed more comfortable than the floor of a collapsed building?"

Simon nodded.

"Okay. Sally is going to help you sit up and we will discuss what happened since Trevor put you to sleep. After that I will need to examine you. I know that sitting up is going to hurt but it is important that you do."

Simon winced as he was helped into a slightly sloped sitting position. Two nice plump pillows kept his back comfortable from the metal backrest. Once in a sitting position Sally left the room and closed the door behind her.

"I have several items to discuss with you. It is important for you to understand what I say so please don't hesitate to ask as we go along."

Simon nodded and before the doctor could start he asked, "Before you start I have not been introduced to the lady who came in with you."

"Sorry. This is Dr Rachel Ruiz. She is a hospital psychiatrist and is here to make sure that I don't overwhelm you with information. She is also here to be somebody that you can talk confidentially to. As long as what you discuss is legal or does not involve imminent danger to you or anybody else then she will not tell anybody."

"This must be bad," thought Simon to himself. "I've got my own shrink and the doctor is talking about me being an imminent danger to myself? Why would I think about suicide? It must be bad."

The doctor explained how they had removed him from the metal strut and taken him to Charing Cross hospital and they had operated. "While we operated we discovered that we couldn't save your penis. You already knew that your genitals were destroyed. Therefore there was a choice to be made. To either leave you with no method of sexual pleasure or perform a sex change and give you the opportunity of future fulfilment."

"What about creating a replacement penis so I could still have sex as a man?"

"Artificially created penis are not able to give you much pleasure and compared to what you had would leave you feeling deprived. It would be a constant reminder to you of what you had lost. Also without the genitals you would not be able to create sperm to make a baby."

"But I can't create a baby now anyway," said Simon sounding rather upset.

"What I am about to tell you isn't known to Rachel but we performed a special sex change on you. This had only been attempted once before and had failed. We won't know for a few more days if this attempt will work but we have high hopes. I will explain the details in a moment but let me just say that you could have a baby."

Simon who had been looking towards Rachel saw a look of shock on her face. It was obvious that this wasn't something she had been forewarned of.

"I need to tell you more information first. As you are aware your mother, Helen, was taken to surgery when she was rescued. However while we were operating on you she died due her injuries being so severe. Since she was a donor card holder her organs could be used to help people with identical or nearly identical tissue type. You were compatible to her and her reproductive system was transplanted into you."

Simon was too shocked to cry or even feel the pain. "What about my father. Has he been rescued yet?"

"I'm sorry but you fathers body was discovered during the night. He was dead."

Simon couldn't believe what he had heard. Both his parents were dead and his body had been mutilated. "Can you both leave me alone," he asked his voice bitter with resentment.

Rachel signalled to Dr Millard to leave. "I'll need to check you over later to confirm that you are healing nicely," stated the doctor as he left the room.

"You seem quite upset," opened Rachel. "This must have been a big shock."

"Upset!" spat Simon, his eyes flashing with passion. "That doesn't begin to even start describing my feelings. I need to think about how this affects me and I can't do that unless I am alone. I asked you BOTH to leave so close the door as you exit."

Simon turned his head away from the psychiatrist adding an extra signal that he was terminating the discussion. This was all too much to take in. How could his mother be dead? Weren't they discussing his childhood less than a day ago?

Sensing that she wasn't going to get Simon to talk about his feelings Rachel walked round the bed and placed a small plastic box with a button onto the bedside table. "This isn't a doorbell", she quipped, "but this will page me if you feel the need to speak with me. It works twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. Just press the button and I will be with you as quick as I can. I will have a nurse put an inbound telephone into the room so if it is going to take me more that fifteen minutes to get to you I will be able to telephone you to let you know."

With that Rachel left the room and headed into a small observation room next door. Inside Sally was monitoring the situation through the one way mirror. "He's not taking it very well, is he?" Sally asked.

"No." responded Rachel. "He appears to be quite intelligent for his age. I recommend you are very truthful with him as he will eventually spot any lies and that will not help build the trust which we need to help him overcome any fears. I'll watch him for a while and go back in and see him soon. I hope he will open up to me soon."

"We had another medically induced SRS operation about two years ago. He lost his penis and genitals in a shooting. He committed suicide a few weeks later. His wife had refused to see him and decided it would not be good for the children to have a freak as a father. We installed the observation mirror and CCTV system into this room after that occurred. There will always be somebody at the desk watching for signs of suicide."

"Tonight is going to probably be the worst night as he has just lost his parents and his genitals. Unless he talks about it today I would not be surprised if he makes an attempt tonight. For that reason I will sleep on the couch in my office so I can be here as quick as possible."

They watched as Simon stayed in the same propped up position that he was left in. His stony face failed to indicate to the observers what he was thinking about or his emotional state. Eventually Simon did move but only to retrieve his watch from the bedside cabinet. The effort needed was tremendous as any movement in his body caused excruciating pain. The watch was left to him when Simon's grandfather had died and he only wore it for special occasions. It looked undamaged and was still ticking. Since it needed to be wound daily one of the nurses must have been in while he was asleep. This watch was Simon's link to his family. When his grandfather had died the family were just him and his parents. Now he was the last surviving member. Simon didn't need the watch to tell the time as there was a clock on the wall. No he needed the watch as a link, a remembrance, to those that he had lost. Simon just sat there staring at nothing, holding the watch reverently in his hands.

An hour later, Simon had started to calm down. He knew that the doctors weren't the cause of him being trapped in the building but they were an easy target to lash out at. He however still held resentment at the fact the doctors weren't able to save his manhood.

The door opened and Dr Millard entered the room with Sally. "Hello Simon. Is it okay with you if I check your wounds and see how they are healing?"

Simon nodded and the doctor said. "I'm going to help Sally manoeuvre you back into a lying position. Then we will need to bend you legs at your knees with your legs spread apart. That way we will be able to check you out."

Simon was manhandled and was soon lying down. The pain from the move was less this time but it still was painful. The doctor lifted the gown and removed the bandages which were promptly put into a yellow medical waste sack. Sally pulled down the inspection light and turned it on so the doctor would have a clearer view during inspection.

"Ah, thank you Sally." The doctor continued to inspect for another few minutes carefully inspecting the stitches and the catheter. "Things are still quite sore so I won't perform a more detailed inspection today. Hopefully by late tomorrow morning things will be healed enough to perform a more tactile inspection."

Sally handed Tom some padding and some bandage. The doctor deftly applied them to the groin and fastened with tape. After he had finished Sally switched off the inspection light and pushed it towards the ceiling.

The doctor then lifted up the gown a bit further and started to look at the abdomen. "Well you seem to be healing well here. You should be able to start sitting up a bit more now. However no walking till I have removed your catheter. Do you have any questions before I continue my rounds?"

Simon thought for a moment contemplating if to ask for confirmation in what he had concluded in his earlier musings. His eyes narrowed as he decided that now was as good a time as another. "Yes doctor I do have one. Since I now have a fully functional female reproductive organ I presume I will be naturally producing female hormones. Is that correct?"

"We assume that it is fully functional. This is a first and we will have to wait to see if it functions correctly. However you are correct you will now be producing female hormones."

"So with no testis to produce male hormones and a body full of female hormones I will start to grow breasts?"

"Correct."

"So my options are reduced even further?" Simon spat out his eyes flashing again as his anger swelled within.

"Sorry I don't understand."

"According to you my testis and penis were destroyed or damaged beyond repair so you were going to give me a female looking groin. If that was the case my hormones would have to be self administered and I would still have had the choice of living as a male or female. However, since you kindly gave me my mother's womb I now naturally produce enough female hormones not to have a choice. I will have to live as a girl."

"How you decide to live is up to you," said Dr Millard gently, trying to placate Simon's anger, "If you feel strongly enough then medical intervention can occur. I only perform male to female operations but I can get a colleague of mine to talk to you if that is what you desire. However we need to make sure that you are fully healed first. I think it would be best for you to talk with Dr Ruiz tomorrow about your thoughts and emotions and see where that leads us."

Simon nodded his head in acquiescence and the doctor with Sally trailing behind left him to his thoughts.

Simon noticed that it the time was approaching seven so he painfully reached across and grabbed the television remote control. He turned it on expecting to only have four or five of the terrestrial channels but to his surprise there was also a limited selection of satellite channels to choose from. He decided against VH1 and selected BBC News 24 hoping to find more information regarding the crash.

Simon watched expressionless at a report on the current Iraqi crisis; more soldiers and civilians killed and an instigation of marshal law. However what followed was more interesting.

"Yesterday's incident at Gatwick airport, where three people were killed and ten people were injured; three seriously, continues to cause chaos in the area. Some flights are expected to resume from the south terminal tomorrow now that the Health and Safety Executive have completed their onsite investigation. Investigators from the Department of Transport are expected to give a news conference in about thirty minutes with preliminary conclusions to the cause of the crash."

"Removal of the destroyed terminal building started about an hour ago and the bulldozers will be working through the night clear the site. The airplane was towed to a remote hanger where a full structural inspection has started. Early indications are that the plane has suffered too much damage and specialist will be brought in to break up the plane."

Simon tuned out the rest of the news. He had a thirst for knowledge about the cause of the plane crash.

He tried to sit up a bit straighter but found the pain emanating from his lower abdomen still quite uncomfortable. Not wanting to be beaten Simon gritted his teeth and tried again. This time he moved his pillows that propped him up and was able to succeed. Wondering why his pain was in the abdomen and not in his groin he lifted his hospital issue gown and noticed his groin was well bandaged. Emanating from the groin was a small tube attached to a bag; must be a catheter. As he lifted the gown higher he saw the stitches from his operation.

Simon lowered the gown as he noticed that they had switched to the imminent Department of Transport press conference. The picture showed a room full of journalists with an empty top table. The news presenter continued to drone on about the incident and the impact it had on flights out of Gatwick. As she continued five people trooped into the room and took their positions. The middle person started to speak and the camera slowly zoomed in towards him. However the presenter didn't switch the sound feed.

In his frustration Simon shouted at the screen, "Turn on the voice feed."

Unfortunately Simon's vocal outburst didn't reach the presenter and it was another twenty seconds before the voice feed was switched.

"The two flight recorders were recovered from the site and investigations in conjunction with the airplanes manufactures have shown-"

Then there was silence and the picture froze for a few seconds before going back to the presenter. "I'm sorry but we seem to have experienced a problem with the feed from the press conference. We will endeavour to re-establish the feed but in the meantime we will continue with other news."

Simon picked up televisions remote control and turned the television off. Why did the hospital only have one twenty-four hour news channel? Why didn't they have Sky News or CNN? All the frustration was too much and he hurled the remote control across the room.

For the first time since the accident his façade of emotional stability slipped and he felt his eyes sting with salty moisture. His thoughts went back to the last time he cried when he found himself trapped under the rubble and his later conversations, still while trapped, with his mother. His mother's voice wouldn't be there to comfort him anymore. The moisture in his eyes grew and turned into a steady trickle down his stubbly face.

***

Sally was just finishing her handover to the night sister, Jasmine, when she saw Simon throw something across the room. As she watched she saw him struggle against his emotions and fail.

"Oh hell," she muttered and as she rushed towards Simon's room. "Jasmine, call Dr Ruiz on speed dial 13912 and get her down here immediately."

When Sally entered she rushed over and made sure that Simon hadn't done anything foolish. On seeing that he was physically well she sat next to him and took his hands in hers. Not saying anything she just let him know that there was somebody there if he wanted to talk. It also was a restraint if he wanted to harm himself.

In five minutes Dr Ruiz walked into the room and sat slightly in front of Simon who was beginning to calm down. The sobbing caused by built up anguish and repressed emotions settled into a steady but gentle tickle of tears. Rachel looked around and saw the remote control lying by the far wall with the two batteries close by.

"Do you want to talk about it?" asked Rachel.

Simon nodded. "Do you want Sally to stay or would you rather talk privately?"

As if she was a magician Sally produced a box of tissues and Simon extracted one. He cleared his face, wiping the streaming mucus which was threatening to enter his mouth. Sally purposefully placed them within his reach; he would need them later.

"If she doesn't mind staying then I think it would be nice. She's been a comfort to me."

Sally who was still holding Simons hands released one and poured him some water into his plastic cup. Simon gratefully took it and took some sips.

"What upset you?" opened Rachel.

"I was watching the news. I was trying to find out what they were saying about me and my parents. Also if there was any update on the cause of the accident."

"And why did the news report cause you to throw the remote control?"

"There was a live press conference on the planes failure to stop. They were going to reveal the cause and they lost the feed. I waited half an hour for the conference and I still don't know the cause."

"That upset you?"

"I cried a bit and that brought back some memories from yesterday."

"Tell me about yesterday."

Simon looked at her in surprise and blinked his eyes as a solitary tear ran down his cheek. He took a deep breath as he attempted to regain his composure and get some control of his emotions. After another sip of water Simon answered in a flat unemotional voice, "A plane failed to stop, crashed into the terminal building causing it to crash. My parents died and I was mutilated."

Sally flinched at Simon's description of being mutilated.

"Don't you think that mutilated is rather a strong term?"

"No. My manhood was removed. It was mutilation."

"I thought Dr Millard explained that your penis and genitalia were beyond repair."

"I bet that Dr Millard couldn't wait to attempt to perform the world's first sex organ transplant," Simon spat out, his anger starting to rise again. "It was probably very risky to attempt the transplant."

"Dr Millard had already assessed that your own organs were irreparable before he got word of your mother's death. Your mother's death didn't cause him to decide on the SRS route. The risk was negligible. A thirty-two year old woman whom was going to receive chemotherapy had some ovarian tissue removed and frozen. After she was given the all clear she had the tissue transplanted back. It was announced a few months ago at the European Fertility Conference in Berlin that she is now pregnant."

"So I'm not the first?" said Simon starting to calm down again as he began to doubt his previous assessment of Dr Millard.

"You are the first to receive a complete reproductive organ transplant. The lady who is being treated in Brussels only had part of her ovary frozen. Also she was getting her own tissue. What was implanted into you originated from your mother."

"But I know Mum and Dad were trying for a baby. What if Mum was pregnant?"

"That isn't possible," said Rachel. "When they transplant an organ they clean it to remove any old blood. The doctors don't want any possibility of infection. There is no chance that you're pregnant."

Rachel saw that Simon was still in shock and bewildered with the sudden change in his life. Acceptance and being able to move on was still a long way off but at the moment he didn't appear to be suicidal.

Rachel glanced at her watch and saw it was nearly nine. She walked over to the remote and placed the batteries back in. With a quick flick she turned on the news channel. They were showing the weather for tomorrow.

"They will have the headlines at nine and they will probably show the summary of the press conference."

"Thank you." Simon might have been a superb sportsman and relatively man's man but his parents had instilled a good set of skills. Politeness was just one of them.

A few minutes later, "The headlines at nine. Preliminary findings show that mobile phone interference caused a corruption of the onboard computer communication system leading to a systemic failure of the onboard computer. Without the computer, which controls all aspects of the fly-by-wire system the pilot lost the ability to break. Other onboard systems were seriously impacted and emergency steering systems were one of the only controls that worked."

Sally had been watching the news with Simon. Rachel however had moved to one side and was quietly observing Simon's reaction. As soon as he heard the results Rachel saw Simon let go of his grip on Sally's hands. His brow, which had been tense, relaxed.
"I think we should call it a night," said Rachel turning off the television.

Simon nodded as Sally lowered the back rest so he could lie-down. As Simon settled for the night Sally and Rachel left the room leaving him under the careful watch of Jasmine.

Part Three

The capacity crowd in the stadium burst into a tumultuous applause as the last contestant, from Zululand, stepped out of the tunnel carrying his own Isijula spear.

The commentator gleefully updated the audience, "Russia is in third place missing the target by three hundred centimetres. America is second missing by only one hundred and fifty centimetres. Currently in first place is the ex whale hunting harpooner from Japan missing by sixty centimetres."

The starting bell rang and the contestant took a small run and hurled the spear. It reached it peak and began its descent embedding itself firmly into the parched grass.

"That was close," informed the commentator. "Just eighty centimetres from the target. This places him in second position."

He walked back to the starting position and concentrated on the task. The bell rang, signalling his second attempt and the final shot of the contest. He took a slight run and a launched the spear into the air. As the spear followed through its flight path the audience fell into silence. People could tell that this was a very good shot and looked like it might hit the target. As the spear gained downward velocity the target became visible. It appeared to be a person tied to the floor with their arms and legs spread like a giant X. The spear got closer to the target and the face became visible. It was me.

***

The stillness of the ward at night was shattered with a piercing shriek. Jasmine quickly glanced at her monitor and saw a visibly distraught patient. She quickly left her station and entered Simon's room. Simon was still lying down, his eyes tightly shut, tossing his head as he tried to eradicate the vision that was feeding on his will to live. Jasmine slightly lowered the inspection light and after turning up to face the ceiling turned it on. This gave a low defused glow in the room.

The distress inflicted on him by the nightmare blocked out any other observations. It was therefore quiet a surprise to him when Jasmine took his hands into hers.

"Nightmare?" asked Jasmine.

"Yes," responded Simon in a very weak voice. "I've never dreamt something that seemed so real. I thought I was going to die."

Jasmine poured Simon a glass of water from the now rather warm bedside jug. He took a small amount and rinsed it round his mouth, trying to remove the nasty lingering taste.

"If you feel up to it, tell me about your dream. It will help you settle."

Simon thought about it for a minute and then nodded his agreement. He explained about the dream and discussed it with the kind nurse.

"It seems strange discussing it," Simon concluded.

"Why?"

"Well I feel sort of detached from the dream. At first it felt so real, but now I can see how silly it was. I'm sorry for disturbing you."

"Disturbing me?" she said with a giggle. "I was just sat at the nurse's station. It has been a change doing something other than prepare bed schedules for tomorrow's surgeries. Now let me give you a quick bed bath and some clean nightclothes. You appear to have excreted a significant amount of sweat during your nightmare."

After Jasmine cleaned Simon up she helped him don his new clothes and he settled down. Within five minutes, he was back asleep with Jasmine again monitoring him from the nurse's station.

***

At half eight Dr Ruiz walked down to see Jasmine. "How is Simon this morning?"

Sally walked in a few seconds later, carrying a large coffee, removed her coat and hung it up.

"Fine, he woke at about seven and has been watching some music videos on VH1. He had a traumatic nightmare at about two this morning, which caused him to cry out. I comforted him and got him to tell me about the dream. He went back to sleep at about three."

"Tell me about the nightmare."

"I wrote down the description so you can add it to your file." Jasmine passed the paper.

"Thanks". Rachel spent the next few minute reading it she then passed it to Sally to read. "What was his initial reaction?"

"Very withdrawn and quiet, he took a bit of encouragement to talk about it and afterwards was a bit embarrassed and apologised for disturbing me."

"Mmmm, Simon appears to have a very interesting personality. Since today is Monday, we might be able to get somebody at his school. I know it is a school holiday but we might be lucky."

"Dr Millard wants to remove the catheter later this morning," explained Sally as she savoured her first real coffee of the day. "I will then introduce him to urination using his new equipment. This will include a discussion on hygiene."

"Can you give me some notice before you remove the catheter?" asked Rachel. "I'd like to observer his reaction. I'll also come and speak with him later after the removal on how he feels. We need to try and keep him positive and see if we can move him forward."

"What about long term?" asked Jasmine. "Once he is physically healed what will happen to him? If he goes to a children's home in this fragile state he will probably end his life."

Dr Ruiz and Sally just nodded glumly; they had had similar thoughts and were concerned to raise them as they tried to promote a positive attitude for Simon's wellbeing.

***

"Hello Simon," opened Sally as she breezed into the room, livened up by her coffee. "How are you today?"

"Feeling a bit better," responded Simon. "I suppose Jasmine told you about the bad dream."

"Yes. It sounded horrible." Sally moved across to Simon and gave him a tender hug which after a few seconds he tentatively returned.

"Thank you," said Simon softly as they parted. His body didn't appear to be in as much pain as yesterday. He was able to move his arms without much apparent pain. He appeared flustered not knowing how to respond. "I've not had a hug like that from anybody other than my Mum and Dad."

Simon looked like he wanted to say something further so Sally just nodded and waited for him to continue.

"Can I ask a favour?" he nervously asked.

"Ask away"

"Is it possible to borrow a CD player?"

"What do you want to listen to?" responded Sally.

"I was watching a video of Cara Malone's song No Half Measures and it sort of reminded me of my current situation. The first verse starts of with 'Yesterday's hopes are today's shattered dreams'. I think it is about giving it your all in the face of adversity. While thinking about the CD I remembered there was a track on the album she composed when her mother died. I've been having trouble feeling anything since my parent's death and I thought it might help me organise my thoughts."

"Let me see if somebody has the CD," responded Sally. "One of my other flat mates, Tina, works in the children's ward. They have quite a selection so I'm sure they will have it." She paused for a second and continued with, "Today Dr Millard is planning to remove your catheter. When he does you will be able to start moving around a bit. However if I manage to find this CD and a CD player I want no dancing. You won't be up to it!"

Simon gave a small smile at that and gave a small nod of acquiescence.

***

"Hey Tina, Sally here."

"Oh hiya. I'm on for Wednesday, if that's why you're ringing."

"Not quite, but it's good to know that the old drinking team will be back together! Why I was ringing was that we have a younger patient down here who has asked to borrow a CD. We have a player but would you happen to have a copy of Cara Malone's album?"

"Of course we have it. It is very popular with the older children. I'll see if I can get my hands on it later. If it's out it will be with Tom. We've let him have a CD player by his bed since he can't move much. He got his leg broken in that plane disaster."

"I thought most of the passengers were okay?"

"Apparently, he fell over as the passengers were being evacuated. Some of the passengers behind him panicked and he was trampled on. Poor boy has just moved to England with his mother from America. Not much of a welcome to the country is it?"

***

"Hi, Dr Millard, are you going to remove the catheter?" asked Simon in a slightly bored tone.

"Let me have a guess. You're bored and you want to get out of bed?"

Simon gave a small laugh his feelings growing for the doctor. He didn't appear to be as stuffy as the doctors he saw when he had to have his appendix removed.

"Well the catheter isn't stopping you getting out of bed. Yesterday you were still getting over your operation and could hardly move. You needed time to recover from the anaesthetic and surgery. However if all looks like it is healing then we will remove the catheter. Keeping it in too long isn't good for you. Now if you will please lie down and I'll check you out."

Dr Millard removed the bandage and Sally pulled down the inspection light and let it illuminate the wound.

"This is healing nicely," stated the doctor. "The swelling is reducing and there are no obvious open wounds. I will remove the catheter which should be relatively painless."

After the catheter was removed Simon felt a bit strange. "I feel a bit draughty and bare. Are you going to bandage me up again?"

"I don't see any need to do so. Most of the physical wounds are healing nicely. You will still need to take things easy over the next few days but you will gradually get stronger. However Dr Ruiz is still concerned about your mental wellbeing."

"I'm sorry that I was a sharp with you both yesterday. I can only presume it was the shock of my whole life just taking a major change. She helped a lot later on yesterday and during the night Jasmine was excellent. I'm not happy being a girl and have a lot to think about. I would love to talk with Dr Ruiz later on today."

"I'll talk with her to try and get her down this afternoon. However, before that Sally needs to explain about your new anatomy and how to go to the toilet as a girl." With that, Dr Millard left leaving Sally alone with a very nervous Simon.

Sally glanced at the half empty jug of water. "I see that you have had plenty to drink so this should be easier. Since this is a private room you have your own toilet so this shouldn't be too embarrassing."

"You're still incredibly weak from the operation," said Sally. "Would you like to try urinating in the toilet or with a bedpan?"

"The toilet," Simon replied trying to inch towards the edge of the bed. "I remember trying to use the bedpan after I had my appendix removed. I hated it."

"Okay, the toilet it is," Sally replied helping Simon swing his legs over the edge of the bed. "Now let me help you stand as you're still weak."

"Why is it taking me so long to recover?" Simon asked impatiently.

"You had a very major operation," replied Sally ignoring Simon's impatience. "Your body needs time to recover. You're doing very well to be attempting to move to soon."

As Simon stood up he felt very unstable and held onto the bed to regain his balance. "Let me help you," offered Sally taking Simon's arm. Propping him up Sally slowly helped Simon along.

"Okay," said Sally as Simon approached the toilet, "you're going to have to pass water sitting down, so hike up your highly fashionable hospital gown and take a seat."

Simon sat down with relief on the toilet. Just the short walk to the toilet had worn him out. He attempted to urinate but nothing happened. "Er Sally? Nothing is happening. I'm trying to wee but it doesn't appear to work."

"Let me try an old trick we sometimes use in circumstances like this. I'll be back in a second so don't go away!"

Sally disappeared and returned a moment later with a fresh jug of water and a large glass. "Drink this," she said offering him a large glass of water.

Simon took the drink and it quickly vanished down his throat. He was then given another one. This however took longer to disappear. A third glass was offered and he looked at her in astonishment. "You want me to drink a third glass? Is this torture? I don't think I could manage it."

"Try. Now when you want to urinate do so, but also try to stop the flow. Try and feel the muscles and get some control."

Simon took gentle sips and managed to drink about half. "I'm full up of water," he complained. "I can't drink any more."

Sally took the glass off him. After a few minutes, Simon was just as frustrated. "Let see if this works," muttered Sally as she switched on the CD player she'd also brought in. Different sounds of flowing water drifted across the room. The sounds ranged from somebody filling a glass of water to a dripping tap. A few seconds into the sound of crashing waves a stream of urine flowed out.

"Oh well done," crowed Sally. "Try and stop the flow."

After a few attempts, he managed to succeed. Gradually feeling the muscles Simon managed to stop and restart the flow a few times before he was finished.

"Now when you had a penis you would be able to shake the remaining droplets off. However, that is no longer an option so you must wipe yourself. You should also wipe from front to back so not to get anything unpleasant in your vagina and urethra. Wiping incorrectly is one of the causes of yeast infections such as thrush and urinary tract infections."

Simon took a piece of paper and wiped as directed. This was the first time that he had touched himself since the operation. He gingerly wiped himself as directed and stared stony faced at the far wall.

"You finish up here while I take the CD player back to the nurses station," explained Sally. "I'll put it in your room later when I get the CD from the children's ward.

She took her time at the nurse's station to chat with one of the other nurses about a different patient before returning to Simon. Even though it had been a good five minutes he was still seated on the toilet but had covered his nether regions up with a towel.

"Are you finished?" she asked.

"Yes," responded the ashen Simon. "With the bandages off I would like to put on some underwear."

"Of course," she acknowledged. "I've put a selection on your bed. Let's wash your hands and I'll help you back to your bed."

With Simon having washed his hands they made their way back to the bed. Simon was pleased to have the catheter out as it showed a further step on his recovery. As they neared the bed Simon saw there was a wide range of underwear.

"What style of underwear you pick to wear is up to you," said Sally as she noticed Simon staring at them. "Well just put the rest in the draw next to the bed.

On the bed were four different styles of underwear. He examined each one. First was a thong, not much material there. Second was a pair of panties similar to what his girlfriend Kirsty used to wear. Third was a pair of male briefs and lastly a pair of shorts.

Normally Simon wore shorts, which he donned. They fitted okay around the waist but without his penis and genitals they felt wrong. He decided to try the briefs. This fitted more snugly and felt more comfortable. He picked up the two female panties and carried them like bombs across to the draw, stuffing them in. Since he had put on the shorts he put them in a plastic bag in his bedside cupboard.

Sally who had been accompanying him smiled sadly to herself. Rejecting the female panties was not unexpected but his reaction to seeing his new genitalia was worse than she had hoped for. She helped Simon back into bed, went back to the nurse's station and wrote her observations in her daily report to Rachel. She watched via the CCTV as Simon snuggled into bed and fell asleep, exhausted from the minor exercise.

***

After lunch, Tina brought down the CD. "Here's the CD you wanted. How long is she going to borrow it for?"

"She?" thought Sally. "Oh, since this is a ward of male to female transsexuals I suppose Tina would assume that this is a girl."

"Er, I think she will be finished by tonight. If so I will run it up before going home."

"Are you working late again?"

"Yes. Short staffed so having to work an extra half shift. Jasmine is doing the same."

"Will you be finished by Wednesday?"

"That's a point. I think I will have to postpone it."

"Okay. See you later."

As Tina left Sally took the CD player into Simon who had woken up from his rest and had propped himself up in bed.

"Hi Simon, how are things going?"

"Crap. I was watching the news and the crash is beginning to become a political fight between Labour and The Conservatives."

"How?"

"Well the Labour transport minister was promising tightening of the legislation on placing an aircraft in danger. The Tories have now reacted saying that the incident was caused due to lack of government investment in the industry and the part privatisation of the National Air Traffic Service."

"What do you want to do?" asked Sally

"I've an idea; do you have some plain paper and a pen?"

"Yes why?"

"Let me have a while and I'll show you. Ooh is that the CD player?"

"Yes. Tina from the children's ward just brought down the CD. When you've finished with it please let me know as Tina said No Half Measures is a very popular CD."

Sally plugged in the CD player and put it next to Simon's bed. "Now remember no dancing while I get the paper."

When she returned Simon asked, "Would it be possible to be left alone for the next couple of hours while I listen to the CD and think about my parents? I know you are all concerned about me and after yesterday, I presume that the room is monitored?

"It's for your own safety," responded Sally.

"I don't mind," continued Simon. "It is nice that you all care. It is just I don't want you to worry if I get upset and emotional. I promise not to hurt myself."

"Okay but if I see anything too irrational then somebody will check on you. We are responsible for you and there would be hell to pay if anything happened to you."

Sally left and he spent the best part of the next hour scribbling away on the paper. When he'd finished he turned on the CD. Soon the wispy coral sound of "Waiting in Heaven" floated through the room. The raw passion of a voice that at times sounded like it was barely in control wreaked havoc with his emotions. As the song entered its finale, tears streamed down his face.

Simon sat still engulfed in silence as he started to remember the good times that he had with both of them. The way they had fussed over him on his first day at school. They must have taken two rolls of film that day. As he got older his parents were always there to see every rugby match that he played in. When entering puberty his dad showing him how to shave. When his friendship with Kirsty blossomed into a romance his mum was there with advice. How would he be able to live his life without the bedrock that his parents gave?

How would my parents have reacted to be loosing my manhood? This was a difficult one. They had quite traditional views on items such as marriage but also had very open attitudes towards other people. A comment my father once said came to mind, "Appearance matters only for initial impressions; what carries a relationship is what is in the heart. Be true to yourself and you have nothing to fear." They had always shown unconditional love. Punishments were fair and fitted the misconduct. Yes, they would have found it difficult but would have been supportive.

Simon rose gently from the bed and looked out of the window. He leaned against the white windowsill and stared at the activity below. From this position he could see the main road and life generally pass by. He watched as he saw a young girl, who appeared to have only recently learnt to walk, amble down the road with her parents. The girl, who was holding onto her mothers arm, tripped against a raised paving slab and burst into tears. He watched with tears in his eyes as the mother scooped her baby into her arms and the father kissed her knee's better.

As they moved off Simon stood staring out of the window watching the passers by while remembering being a member of a family. Naturally his memories were not just of his parents but also included his grandfather. The last thing he remembered his dying grandfather saying was "Don't morn my passing. I'll still be watching over you. However after I'm buried I want you to join with your parents and celebrate the good things of my life. Remember the fun things we have done together and not the funeral."

He looked at the watch left by the same grandfather. It was half past six, had he really been reminiscing for over two hours? One of his favourite memories of his father was listening to the evening comedy on radio four. Simon looked to see if the CD player could receive radio. After finding it could he tuned it to the correct frequency. "I'm Sorry I Haven't a Clue" was just starting. This was one of his favourites and as the teams were being introduced he remembered the laughter he used to share with his father.

Rachel had come down to see Simon and was surprised to hear the chortle over a radio program. Sally had informed her that he wanted to be left alone to brood over his parents. Crying had been the minimum she had expected but not laughter.

Not wanting to intrude and break the moment she hovered at the door waiting for a good time to enter. As she waited she heard the radio say

"Next we have 'One Song to the Tune of Another'"

What ever is he listening to? However she decided to listen hoping it would give insight into his personality. The presenter continued to explain the game and said, "Okay first up is Tim. I want you to sing 'Jerusalem' to the tune of 'The Birdie Song'."

Rachel heard the first few moments of the song and moved away back to the nurse's station trying to suppress her own laughter.

"That was not what I expected," informed Rachel.

"He was very introspective earlier and did quite a bit of crying. I wanted to go in and comfort him and I found it very difficult to stay away. He then changed from the CD and put on the radio. I watched as his mood changed from tearful to cheerful. Whatever he has been brooding about all afternoon he has come to some conclusion."

"I'll leave him to finish listening to this program before interrupting him. Simon has been through a lot of pain over the last few days and if the radio cheers him up then there is now way I'm going to interrupt that," explained Rachel as she watched the monitor.

A few minutes after the program finished the melody of The Archers whistled out of the radio. "Mum used to like listening to it," thought Simon to himself, "but I'm afraid that this is one tradition I'm not going to continue with."

Rachel entered the room just as Simon switched off the radio. It was at that moment that she saw his state. Visible tearstains looked stark on his face. The top of the hospital gown appeared to be damp from the emotional upheaval from the previous hours. As Simon sat in the chair next to his bed he sighed and tiredly rubbed his eyes.

"How are you feeling?"

Simon looked up with a look of surprise. "I hadn't heard you come in."

"Sorry, you were very preoccupied. So, how do you feel?"

"Shattered, but feeling a bit better about my parents."

"Why is that?" asked Rachel taking a seat.

"I was worried what they would have thought about me now. I contemplated my life and realised that my parents loved me for me. What was between my legs was inconsequential."

"How are you feeling about your parent's death?"

"Slightly better. I miss them terribly. However, I know that they are gone and there is nothing that I can do about it. I feel hurt that they are gone and aren't going to be here to help me through my injuries."

"Who do you blame for your parents deaths?"

"Lots of different people. It appears to change by the hour. Currently I blame the people who switched on their mobile phones. Sometimes it is the designers of the building, other times God or even sometimes Mr Wilson."

"Who is Mr Wilson?"

"He is Kirsty's foster father. Actually she was adopted about a year ago; she had been fostered by them for about three years prior to that. He got a new job else where in the country and were moving. Mr and Mrs Wilson were like second parents to me as I spent so much time with them. Kirsty's and my parents decided that it would be best if I wasn't around when they moved so we were going on holiday."

"Okay. What were your parents like? Tell me about them."

For the next half hour Simon described them and went on to talk about is final hours talking to his mother. As his description went on he became more emotional and tears trickled down his face. However Simon continued expressing his memories and showing his obvious love for his now dead parents.

Simon slowly regained his composure and asked Rachel, "Have you seen the news today regarding the accident?"

"Are you meaning how the politicising of the incident?"

"Yes. I've put something together and wonder if you would have a look?"

As Rachel nodded, Simon passed the paper he had composed. As she read it she occasionally gave quick glances at Simon.

"Are you sure you're only fifteen?" she asked rhetorically. As she finished she asked "The comments have upset you that much?"

"Yes. They don't appear to have any real thought for the people injured or killed. I just hope that this refocuses them into doing something positive."

"Well I think it is well written and I hope that it does the job. Now you have written it how are you going to release it?"

"Here is a sheet of paper with whom it should be sent to. I don't have a fax or phone number but directory enquiries should be able to help."

"Leave it with me and I'll get it too him tonight." Rachel paused to collect her thoughts on where the conversation had previously been going. "You were very reticent to talk yesterday. You put up a front trying to suppress your emotions. Yet today you are talking about your parents and have been crying. What has changed?"

Simon just sat there, his eyes still moist.

"Something happened," prodded Rachel. "What was it?"

"I had a bad dream last night and it upset me greatly. Jasmine came in and helped me. She showed me that it is best to talk about your feelings rather than bottle them up. I've repressed my emotions for years and was having difficulty expressing them. I remembered a CD I'd heard called No Half Measures by Cara Malone. It contains a song written when her mother died. Her sentiments were not quite mine but were close enough, coupled with her raw emotion, to help me show mine."

"Can I listen to it?"

"Sure," he said turning on the CD player selecting the correct track. The song played out of the small speakers and the emotion of the singer filled the hearts of the small but attentive audience.

"I wonder how long after her mother died that she recorded this," thought Rachel. "She sure did sound highly emotional."

The song finished with
"Oh how I wish I could see you now, lifted beyond the stars
No more hurt, no more pain, almost too wonderful to be
Through my tears I steel myself, clinging to the edge of hope
Heaven is to be with you again - so save a place for me."

The silence filled the still air and a blanket of tension engulfed them. Nothing was said as both of them sat considering themselves. Rachel, who was used to dealing with other peoples emotions watched Simon through her own blurry eyes. Whoever Cara Malone was she certainly knew how to tug at people's heartstrings.

After about ten minutes of introspection Simon broke the silence, "Thank you for your help." Simon dried his eyes from a rapidly diminishing box of tissues. "Today has been difficult and I feel tired, can we continue tomorrow?"

"How about ten o'clock?"

Simon nodded and continued, "Would it be possible to give the player and CD back to Sally."

Rachel walked carrying the items leaving Simon alone.

***

"How is he?" asked Sally who was just finished handing over to Jasmine.

"He talked a lot about his parents. I've yet to find out about the radio program and how he managed to laugh at a time when he had just been through so much. Also he talked very little about how he is coping with himself and I feel he his avoiding this. Simon is so exhausted so he should go to sleep quite easily. However he still has issues that are troubling him greatly and his refusal to deal with them will undoubtedly lead to more nightmares."

*BEEP* *BEEP*

"What the…" mumbled Rachel as she grabbed her pager.

She rubbed her eyes and looked at the illuminated screen. It had one solitary word, "SIMON". She peered through bleary eyes to see the message time which was displayed in a small font on the top right, "23:30".

Rachel straightened her clothes and walked smartly to the lift. Two minutes later a rather dishevelled Rachel appeared at the ward to find most of the patients had been awoken and occasional screams of terror emanating from Simon's room. Her pace quickened as she heard the scream of absolute terror. As she opened the door her first sight was of Simon crouched beside a desk like he was trying to hide from something. His eyes were wide open with what could only be described as primordial fear. Jasmine was standing near him, a fresh coffee stain on her uniform, not knowing what to do.

"This wasn't in his medical notes," muttered Rachel as she watched Simon give another scream, jump over his bed and hide at the other side. It was as if he was trying to avoid something. Simon's adrenaline was pushing him beyond what his healing body would normally cope with.

"Simon, it's okay. We're here to help," soothed Rachel as she approached Simon. She crouched beside him and continued to utter southing statements. This continued for another five minutes as Simon gradually came down from his adrenaline induced high. His breathing began to settle.

"Help me put him back to bed," asked Rachel to Jasmine. As he was put to bed he fell back into his deep sleep.

They watched Simon for a minute before leaving him to his sleep. When they exited they noticed that the rest of the night staff had reassured the other patients and things were starting to quieten down.

"Don't tell me that was a nightmare. His initial scream was that blood curdling that it caused me to drop my coffee."

"No, that had most of the symptoms of something called a night terror. It is very rare for people past ten years old. Nightmares occur during REM sleep. Night terrors occur during the time of deepest non-dreaming sleep. Even though his eyes were wide open he was actually fast asleep. You did the right thing by not trying to wake him up; that will just prolong the length of the episode. The best thing to do is to try and reassure them and calm them down. If you can get close, sometimes a hug will help but Simon appeared too terrified to even attempt any physical contact."

"Will he suffer more night terrors?

"It is rare to get a subsequent attack on the same night but he may get one tomorrow. For people that suffer from night terrors one of the items that can bring one on is extreme stress or anxiety. Tomorrow I'll work with him to try and work through more of his issues. It might be best for you to be with him when he wakes up as he will still have a lingering feeling of fear."

"After I pressed your emergency button you came very quickly. Didn't you go home?"

"No, several items gave me cause for concern so I decided to sleep on my office couch."

Rachel gave a stifled yawn. "I'm back off to my couch. See you at about eight in the morning."

As Rachel departed Jasmine settled down with an extra sweet cup of tea to continue with tomorrows work lists. She occasionally glanced up at the monitor and watched Simon sleep out the rest of night.

At about quarter to six she saw the first signs of Simon waking up. As he became aware of himself he started to shake from the residual fear. It was at this time that Jasmine slipped quietly into the room and sat on the edge of the bed next to Simon.

"It's okay," she comforted. "There is nothing to be frightened of."

Simon gave a snort of contempt. "I had a bloody night terror and you say there is nothing to worry about. Almost seven years without one and now a night terror and a nightmare the night before."

"I'd been told people didn't remember having night terrors?"

"Generally people don't. I don't remember what occurred, however there are signs that show that I've had a night terror. I have a lingering feeling of fear and my clothes stink of dried sweat. Also I had Dr Ruiz's call bell on my side table but it is now on the windowsill."

Jasmine gave a small smile. "Well aren't you the little Sherlock? Will you be okay?"

"Yes. I used to suffer them on a semi regular basis till I was about six. They became less regular and I suffered my last one at about eight years old. I am wearily used to them."

"Well go and have a shower while I change the sheets. After all the prancing you did last night I think you should make it on your own. You know where the underwear is. Again, as Sally said yesterday, the choice of style is yours."

Simon nodded and padded into the en-suite. He lifted the toilet seat and reached to direct his penis in the correct direction. He reached through the fly in the underwear and found nothing. With a sigh he remembered why he was in hospital and feeling bereft for his familiar genitals, lowered the bottom pan and sat down to urinate.

Again he winced as he wiped himself. His body emanated a slight shudder of revulsion during the process. After washing his hands he walked into the shower. On the shower ledge were three different shower gels of different scents. None were perfumed but were a mixture of slightly masculine and slightly feminine scented products. As he scrubbed his body he noticed that his beard was getting quite full. "I must remember to ask for a razor, even if it is an electric variety," he thought to himself.

As soon as he was dry he wrapped the towel around his waist and entered his room. Jasmine had left after changing the bedding. Lying on top was a clean hospital gown. After putting on the gown he grabbed a clean pair of male briefs.

Just after he finished getting dressed there was a discreet knock on the door. "Breakfast," announced Jasmine as she entered the room. As she neared Simon she gave a discreet sniff to find out which shower gel he had used.

The sniff wasn't lost on Simon who gave a small laugh. "And I'm wearing male briefs, so no trying to peak."

For a moment Jasmine looked a bit embarrassed but quickly changed the subject. "I caught sight of an early edition of some of the papers and it appears you have caused something of a rumpus. I also think one of the tabloids has launched a campaign to tighten up the law."

"I didn't mean to cause such a kafuffle. I just wanted to divert the issue from politics back to something positive."

"As far as I can tell it looks like your wish is coming true. I'm sure that Sally will know more as she often buys a paper on the way to work. Anyway, you had better eat up your breakfast. By the looks of today's schedule you will need all the energy you can get."

"What exciting things are going to happen today?"

"Well, Dr Millard is scheduled to examine how well you are healing. Then I believe Dr Ruiz has managed to shift most other cases to other colleagues, so you will be seeing a lot of her today."

Sally left Simon to eat his breakfast. After the first few mouthfuls, the nausea that he had felt since the operation got worse. Simon ran for the bathroom and brought up a very bitter green mixture. "Just great", thought Simon. "What else could go wrong?"

***

At just past eight Sally arrived in the ward just as Rachel appeared.

"Ah, the gruesome twosome," quipped Jasmine and which Sally responded by sticking out her tongue. Sally placed her coffee, which she'd purchased on the way in, on the side while she got herself settled.

"How did Simon get on?" asked Rachel.

"After you left he slept through till about seven. I've written up my version of last night's fun and also this morning's activity," informed Jasmine handing the observation file to Rachel.

Rachel read through it and handed it to Sally to read. Sally gasped in shock as she read about the previous night's activity. "I'd never heard of night terrors before reading this."

"They are pretty rare," responded Rachel.

"Did you bring your paper in this morning?" Jasmine asked Sally.

"Yes, do you want to borrow it?"

"I heard something on the radio earlier about somebody who had been injured in the plane disaster releasing a statement."

Sally pulled out the paper and there on the cover was the headline in large print, "Disaster Victim Lashes Out."

"I think you need your eyes checked," joked Rachel.

"The newspaper was folded and half stuck out of the door," responded Sally. "I just put it in my bag."

The article read:
Last night the person who had been trapped for 21 hours released a statement via Gatwick Airport press office. The press have been banned from revealing details of the person to protect them during their recovery from horrific injuries and the tragic loss of their parents.

Statement
"Two days ago my parents died a slow, horrible and painful death. They were trapped in a collapsed building for many hours, their lives slowly ebbing away. At the hour of my greatest need my mother, whom was trapped near by, kept me going by her shear will. While we were trapped my mother kept my spirits high by reminiscing over our wonderful life together. As she spoke to me she would have been in immense pain but she never let on. When she was pulled out of the wreckage her body was hardly recognisable as the beautiful women she was.

I could not have grown up to be how I am today without both of my parents. They were kind, loving and never judgemental; I will miss them terribly. As I recover from my life changing injuries I count my blessings that I am still alive but I just wish my parents were alive to help me adjust to my new life ahead.

Just before the accident I stood in the terminal building watching the plane land and taxi to deposit its passengers. There was an area to the right of the plane that appeared to have a lot of workers. As the airplane got close it changed direction to avoid the people. In my mind the captain worked hard to save, not just the people in the airplane, but ground staff. He should not be vilified but posthumously awarded as a hero. The captain didn't cause the accident but certainly did his best to save lives in an impossible situation.

My heart goes out to the wife and children that he leaves behind. I know what is like to loose somebody important and I just hope they one day recover. One of my grandfather's favourite sayings was not to morn the loss but celebrate the life. Remember the good times, the holidays, the love that you all had for each other. Hold on to those memories I know I will.

My thanks go out to all the people involved in my rescue. There are too many to mention and I probably don't know half of what happened on that fateful Saturday. My thanks also go to the medical people on site and those that have looked after me since. These people are often overlooked but without them I would not be here today. Long after a disaster is forgotten medical people are still helping the people injured and they should be saluted for their tireless work. The press often vilifies the NHS but it is in disasters like this that you see the system does work and is probably one of the best in the world.

The investigators quickly found the cause of the disaster; interference from people switching on their mobile phones. Mobile phones are not going to change and nor is the basic design of airplanes. Even if modifications could be made to either of the designs there are too many phones and planes for that to stop future occurrences. The only method to secure future flights is to make the penalty for using a mobile phone on a plane too high for people to even contemplate doing it.

Recently the government and opposition have starting using this disaster to rubbish each other. I was taught that one of the jobs of a government was to protect the interests of the public. However, turning this tragic event into a political circus act is not going to protect the public by stopping this occurring again. Focused debate is good as nobody has an exclusive on ideas but there is no sign of a constructive debate on how to protect the public. I am aware of the adage that a rushed law is often a bad law but at the moment there is not even any sign of a cross party body to examine how to improve the law.

The only thing I ask is that people observe directions not to turn on mobile phones until inside the terminal building. I would not like anybody else to suffer like I and the pilot's family are. I also ask that the government stops trying to keep there jobs and do their jobs, create a better law to help protect the people."

Comment
Both the transport and shadow transport ministers were unavailable to comment on the press release. Downing Street press office said they would examine the press release with interest.

Jasmine and Sally looked up from reading the article. "Aren't you going to read it?" Sally asked Rachel.

"I read it last night before speaking with Simons contact at Gatwick. However I want to read the rest of the article about others reactions."

When they had finished reading page two and three (the normal page three picture of a nearly naked girl had been relegated to page seven) Jasmine concluded, "Well Simon certainly appears to have stirred up a hornets nest."

"Well I just hope that it gives him a bit of relief from his pent up emotions," explained Rachel. "I am due to see Simon at ten; would it be possible for you to show it him before that?"

"No problem," responded Sally quickly drinking her forgotten, and nearly cold coffee. "I'll take it in when I collect his breakfast items."

Rachel departed for her first visit of the day and Jasmine started her handover to Sally.

***

"Good morning, Simon."

"Hi, Sally."

"I see you put that paper to good use yesterday," started Sally. "Have a look at the newspaper."

Simon looked at the paper as Sally slipped out with the breakfast items. He checked the statement for completeness; it was all there. He then read the other items regarding his statement.

"I can't believe that they have published this," said Simon to Sally who had just re-entered his room.

"It wasn't just this newspaper. It is in all the broadsheets as well as all the tabloids."

Simon tuned into the news channel on the television. There was a discussion with technical experts about what could be done to stop mobile telephones interfering with airplane systems. I gave a small grin of satisfaction and switched it off.

"You look rather pleased with yourself."

"I can't believe that my small statement has done this. I just wanted people to look forward and stop anybody else suffering like I have. Nobody should lose their parents at such an early age."

***

"I didn't think that consultants started this early," quipped Simon as Tom Millard entered the room along with Sally and another lady.

"It's half nine so it isn't that early. Anyway, my wife kicked me out of bed."

"Oh well, you can get to the golf course early".

Sally and the other lady looked a bit shocked at the banter.

"I only play golf once a week. I normally work at least a forty hour week. I don't trust my junior doctors that much!" responded the doctor with a grin on his face. "Anyway let me introduce Dr Barbara Smith, she assisted with the transplant."

"Can you please slip off you underwear so the two doctors can examine you," requested Sally as she pulled down the inspection lamp.

Dr Smith face looked surprised when she saw Simon was wearing male underwear. Sally signalled to her not to say anything.

"Excellent work," said Barbara to Tom as she examined his results of the surgery. "It looks like the transplant has taken well. There are no signs of rejection. Has a pelvic examination been performed?"

"No," replied Dr Millard. "It is still quite tender so I would prefer it to wait for a few weeks."

Dr Smith lifted the gown slightly. "I see the lower abdomen is healing nicely. I would say that these stitches can be removed in about five to seven days."

"So apart from the abdomen stitches to be removed and checks by a gynaecologist do you have any objections to Simon being discharged from our care?"

Barbara flinched at the use of the male name. She pondered this for a moment, "No, I've no objection to her being discharged."

Simon winced at the use of the female pronoun, "So what happens to me now?" asked Simon.

"Well, you are physically healing and don't need to be under my care. I am, however, aware that there are mental wounds that need to heal and so you will be under the care of Dr Ruiz. I believe she will be with you shortly to discuss things further."

***

As Sally and the two doctors left Simons room Tom Millard turned and said very formally, "Dr Smith, please accompany me to my office."

This wasn't a request. Barbara could tell that something had upset the doctor and the way she was being addressed she was the cause.

Tom sank into his seat and looked intently at Barbara. After a minute of tense silence Tom asked, "What is the aim of a doctor?"

Barbara looked surprised at the question, "To treat anybody requiring medical help no mater their race, gender or religion."

"Not a bad description," agreed Tom. "How should this be carried out?"

"Caringly. The treatment should be carried out in a compassionate manner, taking into account not just the medical needs of the patient, but respecting any other issues such as religious restrictions. Above all it is important to respect the wishes of the patient."

"So respect of the patient is important?"

"Yes," replied Barbara unsure where this was leading.

"So why did you fail to show respect to Simon?"

Barbara reviewed in her mind the preceding conversation, "In what way was I disrespectful?"

"There were two occurrences where you were disrespectful. Firstly, you didn't look too pleased to see Simon wearing male briefs. Fortunately Simon didn't see this."

"I was surprised at the male briefs but that didn't stop me treating him with respect."

Tom paused for a moment. "Tell me about the patient we are going to operate on this afternoon."

"Hilda Jones is a thirty-five year old. She has been on HRT for three years. The operation is a standard penile inversion. There doesn't appear to be any complicating factors."

"Hilda still has a penis yet you said ‘SHE'. Why?"

"A person's anatomy is not the issue. What is in the mind and soul is. Hilda might still have a penis but is definitely a woman. What has this to do with...Oh; I referred to Simon in the feminine. Yes, I agree, I was disrespectful."

Barbara lowered her head in shame while Tom watched as she reviewed, in her mind, the conversation at Simon's examination. "You only made the one verbal mistake," reassured Tom. "I know that it can easily become habit to refer to all our patients as female. However please remember that all patients are individuals and each has their own needs. Simon is an unusual case so we have to make that little bit extra effort."

***

At ten Dr Ruiz knocked and entered to find Simon reading. He looked up and asked, "Is it that time already?"

Rachel took a seat opposite Simon, "I'm afraid so. How did you get on with Dr Millard?"

"He said I've physically healed enough and has discharged me. Apparently I am now under your care."

"That is correct. I spoke with Dr Millard yesterday and we agreed that when you where physically healed you would be handed over. I didn't think it would be so soon."

"So what happens to me now? Do you put me in a padded cell?"

"Why are you a danger to yourself or others?"

"I think you understand me enough by now to know that I am a fighter. I might be upset about what has happened to me but suicide is not an option. I also might have played rugby and be quite large, but I'm not violent."

"Then I don't think the padded cell will be needed. I want to help you come to terms with your unwanted change. Locking you up will not help you but torment you. How we progress is up to you."

Simon thought for a moment and nodded. Rachel continued with, "What level of rugby did you play?"

"For the last two years I've played for the school team. For the last six months I have played for the county schools team."

"That is quite impressive for somebody who isn't yet sixteen. People don't normally play at county level till seventeen or eighteen."

"It took a lot of practice. The fitness level required took a lot of patience to reach. This is one of the reasons I was upset when I first met you. It appeared that my life has been a waste; I won't be able to play like I used to."

"There are girl's rugby teams."

"Yes, but I wasn't born as a woman so will not be able to compete as a woman. Since I no longer produce testosterone I will not be able to physically compete as a male. I don't have a future with rugby or any competitive game. Since sport was my life then I don't have any life."

Simon reached across and took a drink of water. His heart was beating furiously as he instantly regretted what he said.

"So do you want to end your life?"

Simon appeared to ponder on the question for a few seconds before replying, "I'm not going to commit suicide. I may not have my dream of rugby but that was never a realistic future. I may have been good enough to play for the county but club rugby was never a realistic goal. Rugby gave me more than enjoyment and fitness; it taught me self control, patience, the ability to concentrate on a task and most important, never to give up hope."

Rachel pondered. Yes he might be good at rugby but he also appears to be intelligent, forthright and articulate. Not the signs of somebody who concentrated on the singular task or playing rugby.

"Did your parents encourage your rugby playing?"

"Both of them did. I was always quite surprised that Mum encouraged me as much as my Dad. Both of them were always at the matches supporting me. However, they were both also very firm about my academic work. Evening runs couldn't occur until homework and studying had been completed. They also threatened to stop me attending rugby practice if my grades dropped. This kept me achieving when other players concentrated just on sport."

"Did your parents ever carry out their threat?"

"No, I know they always kept their word so I never let my grades slip."

"You said earlier that you knew your future wasn't in rugby. What did you envisage as your future career?"

"I currently do well in four main subjects; biology, chemistry, maths and computing. This gives me plenty of leeway to decide on my career when I have completed my exams. I don't take my GCSE's till next year so I have plenty of time."

Rachel paused gathering her thoughts on the next line of discussion. Simon obviously had targets outside his rugby and appeared stable enough. Wanting to leave the repercussions of Simon's operation till last Rachel decided to enquire more about the previous night's laughter.

"Yesterday before I saw you in the evening I heard you laughing at a radio program. However when I came in it was evident that you had cried a lot during the afternoon. What made you put on the radio comedy?"

"My grandfather, as he was dying, said to not morn the death but to celebrate the good of their life; remember the fun things not the funeral. One of the things my father introduced me to was the radio comedy ‘I'm Sorry I Haven't a Clue'. When it was on we tried to make time and listen to it together. Last night I was trying to remember the fun things I did with my parents and not them dying. Talking of my parent's death, do you have details about their funeral?"

"The funeral will be arranged by Social Services as the only surviving family, you, are under sixteen. They are organising that your parents bodies be transferred to you home town. The nature and date of the funeral has yet to be finalised. Some children find it too difficult to deal with the death of their parents so don't want to be involved. Do you want to attend the funeral and do you want to be involved with the arrangements?"

"Yes to both," responded Simon. "I am surprised that Social Services have yet been in contact."

"They have but until you had fully recovered from the operation Dr Millard refused them access. Since you're discharged from Dr Millard it is up to me to decide if you are mentally well enough to deal with some of these issues. So far you appear to have handled the death of your parents well. You have been grieving over their death but don't appear to have gone off the deep-end. However, I need to know how you're dealing with your change of sex."

Simon paused for a moment, considering how to put into words the conflicting feelings that had been confusing him over the last few days. He rose from his rather comfortable chair and gazed out of the window at the clouds scurrying across the sky.

"I've struggled with a conflict within myself over the last few days. I've always enjoyed the thought that one day I would become a parent, well a father. When I was told that the building collapse probably removed my chance of being a parent I was very despondent. When I came round from the operation I was informed that my penis had been removed and to most people I was now a girl. On top of that my parents were both dead. I have never felt so down and alone. Then, as if from nowhere, I am told that I can have children. I was still sad but there was hope; all my dreams where not gone."

"Why is being a parent so important to you?"

"I don't know," replied Simon with a shrug. "It is that life is so precious. If a child can be raised in a loving, caring way it appears to be really rewarding. I noticed how my parents really gave all their love to me. My conception was an accident that occurred soon after they got married. Until recently my parent's jobs were very poorly paid and where unable to give me much accept love. When there was a school trip they often scrimped to save up for the cost. There was one thing that I had that a lot of other children didn't have, was a lot of unconditional love. Since my parents have become more affluent they started trying for another child but were never successful. As I've seen my parents get so much from raising me I always wanted the same."

"Let me summarise," injected Dr Ruiz. "You want to be a parent but don't want to be female. However, you have a conflict as you know that you could never be a parent if you had stayed male."

"Yes," responded Simon with a gust of pain.

"So would you want your womb removed and a fake penis created?"

"No."

"Why not?" shot back Rachel before Simon's utterance had even finished being spoken.

"Because I couldn't become a parent."

"So being a parent is more important to you than being a man?"

"Yes...No...Oh I don't' know."

"So do you want to be a woman?"

"No."

"Why not? You said you didn't want to be a man."

"I don't want to be a woman. The only reason I don't want to go back to being a man is so that I can have a child."

"So what do YOU want?"

"I don't know. I've been thinking about this but it just gets too complex and too hurtful."

"Is your parents desire for a second child influencing your decision?"

"I don't know." Simon walked back to his chair and sat down looking at the psychiatrist. "One thing I do know is that I don't want any more surgery till I know what I want."

"That I think is very sensible," replied Dr Ruiz. This boy never ceased to amaze her. Not that she would have authorised such surgery until he was eighteen.

"I take it I am now producing female hormones?"

"Yes. It will take a few more days to impact your body but yes your body is no longer producing a normal male amount of testosterone. Your dominant hormone will be oestrogen."

"So will I develop breasts?"

"After a few months slight breast growth would be expected."

"What about my voice?"

"That has already broken. This will not make it any higher."

"What about facial hair?"

"No, that will not disappear."

"Damn," complained Simon. "Even when I was male I always hated shaving."

"So why didn't you grow a beard?"

"That was even worse. I think people who grow beards are lazy. They just can't be bothered to shave. A beard also makes a person look shifty. It looks like they have something to hide."

"So even if you went back to being a man you wouldn't want to have a beard?"

"No."

"So if you had electrolysis to remove your beard you would not be unhappy?"

"No. It would make passing as a girl easier. It would also make my life easier if I decided to become a man again."

"You mean you are lazy but don't want to show it?"

"I think that about sums it up," said Simon with a slight smile in his voice. He then continued in a more serious tone, "What will happen to me? I can't go to a children's home as a girl as I don't look or act like one. I also can't go as a man as I'm no longer equipped to do that and in a few months will have extra attributes which would make passing as a man almost impossible."

"So if you could pass as a girl you would live that way?"

"I don't know. I would give it a try. I think it is the only way I would know which is more important; being a man or being a parent."

Another hour of questioning followed and Simon's mind started to feel numb. Noticing Simon's mind starting to wander Rachel said, "Let's have a break for lunch. I'll make some phone calls and see what we can arrange."

After the effects of breakfast on his nausea Simon was very reluctant to eat much lunch. He pushed it around his plate thinking more about the earlier chat with Dr Ruiz. Was he making the correct decision? Dr Ruiz didn't reject or validate anything during the discussion; she just kept asking question after question.

After about half an hour Sally came to collect the lunch tray. "Are you feeling okay?" she asked seeing only a fraction of the meal eaten.

"I've been feeling a bit sick since yesterday. Today I was sick at breakfast but it didn't help and still feel nauseas."

"Dr Millard said that this might be expected as your body adjusts to the new hormone regime. You body will be receiving unexpected high levels of female hormones. Till your body gets used to it you might feel sick. I'll check with the doctor and see what he advices."

"Well Simon," started Dr Ruiz on her return from lunch. "I've had quite a productive hour and have tentatively arranged some things. All of this is subject to your approval. At about three this afternoon I have arranged for somebody to see you regarding electrolysis. She will discuss the process with you and if you agree make a start."

"Is all the electrolysis going to be done here? We talked about me leaving hospital?"

"Calm down and let me finish. I've also talked to a lady called Kelly Baxter who runs a special tuition in helping tomboys become ladies. This normally runs during the long summer break. During the rest of the year she operates as an adviser to companies on transsexuals. She'd be delighted to assist you in learning how to integrate yourself into school life as a girl. How much of a girl you become is up to you. If at anytime you want to stop and revert to life as a male then that is fine."

"When would I start? Also what do I do about my identification? My birth certificate says Simon and lists me as male."

"If you agree to this then Kelly would come to collect you tomorrow morning. As to your identification, you can change your name via a Deed Poll or via a Statutory Declaration. With either method you end up with an official document stating your name change. You can use that to request changes to your passport and bank details. However you can't currently change your birth certificate. There is a Bill before parliament called the Gender Recognition Bill. If the bill is passed then it will allow controlled changes, via a committee, to your birth certificate. Till the law is passed just use your changed passport for identification purposes. Kelly is an expert in this and will assist you tomorrow."

"Talking of identification, I've come up with a new name. If I'd been born as a girl my parents would have called me Charlotte Allison Turner. That is what I'll change my name to."

"Well Charlotte," said Dr Ruiz with a nice smile. "It's nice to meet you."

There was a knock on the door and after Dr Ruiz shouted "ENTER" Sally popped her head round.

"I've got an Angela to see Simon regarding electrolysis."

"We've just finished," said Rachel beckoning Sally into the room. "Simon has agreed to go and stay with Kelly to see if he can cope with living as a girl. Simon has decided to change his name to Charlotte."

"So who won the sweepstake?" asked Charlotte.

"You knew about THAT?" choked Sally turning bright red.

"Where my Dad worked you couldn't go for more than a few weeks without there being a sweepstake on something. There were the usual things, such as a sweepstake for the Grand National, but other things like babies names etc."

"I'll have to look up the winner in the book at reception. I'll let you know later. One thing I do know is that the winner isn't me."

Sally and Rachel left the room and Charlotte awaited Angela to appear. "This is the first voluntary change to make me fit in better as a woman," thought Charlotte as she nervously waited. The nausea that she was feeling was getting worse and she rushed to the toilet and brought up the little lunch she'd eaten.

Angela examined Charlotte's face for a few minutes and then asked, "I take it you've never had electrolysis before?"

Charlotte shook her head no.

"Do you know anything about it?"

"No...None of this was planned."

"Don't worry," reassured Angela, "I've been told that your case is confidential, so I won't be asking any questions about what happened or your original identity.   I've dealt with cases of under sixteen's before and I'm aware that there are normally court orders to ensure confidentiality."

"Thanks," Charlotte replied.   "This is difficult enough without the tabloids making me their next sob story."

Angela just nodded.   "Well, let's get down to it.   This," she said pointing to an innocent looking white box, "is the electrolysis machine."   She attached two cables to it.   One had a pedal attached, which rested on the floor; the other cable was longer but didn't appear to go anywhere.   "I will attach a small needle to the cable which I insert into the hair follicle. When I press the pedal, a controlled current of electricity will weaken the follicle.   Using tweezers I gently remove the hair."

"You said it weakened the hair follicle.   Does that mean that the hair will grow back?"

"Yes, the hair might grow back but it will be finer.   Sometimes a follicle requires several zaps before it gives up.   Also not all hairs are active at once.   So, you might have a hair that becomes active in thirty days which would need treating.   Electrolysis takes time to achieve results but as you are still young your facial hair is not fully established so re-growth won't be as severe as somebody who has finished puberty."

"So when do we start?"

"Today if you want, Dr Ruiz spent quite a bit of time on the telephone with social services getting them to agree to this.   Firstly I need to make sure you understand that this is permanent; there is no reversal."

"Even before the accident I hated shaving, it was a chore.   Even if I lived as a man I wouldn't want a beard so removal is quite a relief."

"Right, now while I setup why don't you go to the toilet.   We are going to be at it for a few hours so I want you comfortable."

When Charlotte reappeared, Angela had the electrolysis machine all setup.   She had borrowed an office chair from the nurse's station and moved the pillow to the bottom of the bed.  

"How do you want me?"

"Lie down on your side," requested Angela.   "That will give me a good angle to work on your face."

As Charlotte clambered onto the bed, her lack of experience of being a woman became apparent.   Her gown, which was relatively short, rose exposing the male briefs.     Angela noticed but didn't let on.

"How about I start with your cheeks and work my way out?"

Not knowing any different, Charlotte gave a slight nod and lay on the bed.   Angela leaned across and began the process.   Charlotte looked slightly surprised at the slight warmth as the current was activated.

"I'm going to use the tweezers to remove the hair," informed Angela.   "Let me know if you feel it tug.   If it tugs then I've not zapped the follicle enough and it would be like plucking the hair.   Plucking makes the hair stronger and is diametric to what we want to achieve."

As Angela grasped the hair with the tweezers, it didn't easily slide out.   "Did you feel that tug?" she asked.

"I think so," Charlotte replied hesitantly.

"I'm turning the level up two notches," she informed as she twisted small knob.   Angela again zapped and this time the hair slid out with no resistance.

When Angela zapped the next hair Charlotte asked, "Aren't you going to remove the hair?"

Angela laughed, "I did.   It is because we are at the correct setting the hair just slides out with no feeling."

"I'm impressed.   I thought that this would be painful."

Angela just smiled and continued zapping away.   She didn't want to tell him that the cheeks were relatively painless but the top lip and jaw would have her jumping off the bed.

After half an hour, Charlotte was asked to twist around so Angela could make a start on the left cheek.   "Why change sides now?"

"It gives that side of your body a rest while we do the other side."

Once the thirty minutes on the right side was complete, Angela called a break and went to speak with Sally.   Charlotte, thinking the conversation was getting a bit stale, turned on the television to VH1.   She thought that Angela looked like she was in her late twenties so shouldn't find the music to unappealing.

The second hour Angela started at the bottom of the neck and started to work her way up.   The hair here was sparser and therefore a larger area was covered.   Just as Charlotte was turning round for the other side to be done there was a knock on the door and Sally walked in.

"Hi Charlotte, how is it going?" asked Sally as she passed a tube of cream to Angela.

"I feel a little tender where Angela has been zapping me but so far so good.   I thought it would be painful but haven't really had any issues so far.   What's the cream for?"

"It will numb an area where I'm going to treat so that you won't feel so much pain," answered Angela.

"I've been okay so far," said Charlotte rather cockily.

"Lie still and let me do a hair on your upper lip."

Angela inserted the needle and pressed the pedal down.  

"Ouch," yelled Charlotte giving a sudden jerk and then conceded with a weak smile, "Perhaps numbing the area might not be a bad idea."

"Have fun," smiled Sally as she left the room.

Angela thinly spread the cream along the moustache area.   "This will give it time to work," she explained.   "It reduces the amount of pain by about fifty percent."

The other side of the neck was done and it was soon time for the upper lip.   Charlotte braced herself and Angela did the first hair.

"How was that?" she asked Charlotte.

"Not as bad as without the cream," she answered, "but still painful."

"For quickness I'm going to work my way along and zap each hair.   I'll then remove the hairs with the tweezers afterwards so the pain is compressed into a short a time as possible."

During the next forty minutes, Charlotte lay there with her jaw firmly set trying to think of anything that wasn't electrolysis.   She concentrated on her parents faces thinking of the times that she had struggled to achieve something and their constant support and encouragement.

When the torture was over Angela said, "Well done.   A lot of people struggle with the pain when doing the top lip.   What gave you the impetus to keep going?"

"I was concentrating on my parents," Charlotte replied.   "My Mum managed to cope with being in labour for twenty-two hours.   If she could suffer for so long there was no way that I was going to give up.   That's a thought.   Maybe I could have some Entonox?"

"I don't think the labour ward would be too happy to give away all their toys," Angela replied with a small laugh as she wiped Charlotte's face with some Aloe gel.

"I leave the hospital tomorrow," informed Charlotte.   "I take it that you won't be doing the rest of the electrolysis?"

"No, that will be somebody called Wendy.   Dr Ruiz organised me to start here but Wendy lives in the area you are going to."

Charlotte looked disappointed which was noticed by Angela.   "I used to work with Wendy and I think you will like her.   Now make sure that you pack the Elma cream as I think you might need it."

Angela was the first non-medical person that had seen Charlotte since the operation.   She was helping treat the results of the medical intervention but she wasn't a nurse or doctor.   Angela hadn't commented on the masculine voice or behaviour but treated her compassionately.   Compassion was expected from medical personnel but one of Charlotte's concerns was how she would be perceived in the community as she learnt how to be less male.

When Angela left, Charlotte was alone.   This was getting to be a bit of a bore.   She wandered across to the mirror and peered at her face.   The areas that had been treated looked slightly red but not as bad as expected.   It seemed strange to see that the top lip was totally devoid of hair.   She shuddered at the memory of the pain.   After examining the cheeks, she concluded that this looked like the least amount of hair had been removed.   However, what was the most startling was the amount removed at the bottom of the neck.   The hair used to go all the way past the prominent Adams Apple down to the start of the chest.   Now it was mostly cleared with a faint strip of hair emanating from the Adams Apple toward the chest.

Charlotte entered the bathroom where there was a full-length mirror.   She removed the gown and underwear and standing naked stared at the reflection in the mirror.   The reflection in the mirror was Simon. The rather muscular figure with hairy arms, legs and chest seemed at odds with the reflection from the groin.   This was sore, hair free and devoid of the standard male plumbing.   For the sake of the people treating him, Simon was trying to become Charlotte; however, when he looked in the mirror the act just failed.   Yes, HE was Simon and yes, he felt bereft at the lack of a penis.

Jasmine, just having arrived for work, had gone into the room adjacent to the Simon's room to get a file.   She glanced through the one-way mirror and saw Simon, who had left the bathroom door open, standing looking at his reflection.   Jasmine stood and watched wondering what was going through his mind.   She saw Simon suddenly pick up the hospital gown, which had been lying on the floor, and after placing it back on his body turn and walk briskly to the draws containing underwear.   She noticed that the male briefs had been left lying on the floor in the bathroom.   Jasmine was surprised as Simon pulled out two panties; the mini style and the thong style.

Not taking her eye from the mirror Jasmine grabbed the telephone and rang the nurse's desk.   "Sally, are you watching the monitor?"

"Not at the moment.   Why?"

"Turn it on."

There was a pause while Sally leaned across the paper-cluttered desk to switch on the monitor.   "What's Charlotte holding?" she asked as she peered at the screen.

"Who's Charlotte?"

"This afternoon Simon decided he would attempt to live as a girl.   Charlotte was the name he chose."

"She has a pair of panties in each hand," said Jasmine switching to the new gender.   "I think she is contemplating putting one of them on but can't decide between the two different styles.   Do you know if Dr Ruiz is available?"

"I spoke with her about ten minutes ago.   While on the phone she got paged by A & E.   Apparently an ambulance just brought in a teenage suicide attempt.   They get a slight rise in the number of cases at this time of the year due to stress of students taking their GCSE and A-Level exams.   I don't think she will be available for a few hours."

"Shit.   From the look on her face she is fighting not just between which of the styles to wear but if to wear one at all."

They watched as the decision was fought on several fronts.     Tears started slowly trickling down her face.   Charlotte threw both pairs of panties into the open draw and walked towards the bathroom to retrieve the male briefs.   Half way to the bathroom Charlotte stopped; she wiped the tears from her eyes with the sleeve of the hospital gown and strode purposefully towards the underwear draw.   She pulled out a pair of plain mini style panties and before either of the discreet watchers could blink, she had pulled them up her hairy legs.

Charlotte then went and sat on the chair tears streaming down her cheeks; the male briefs abandoned in the bathroom.   As the tears failed to dissipate the two onlookers started to get concerned.   They weren't used to this reaction in this ward; their patients were normally so happy.

"Jasmine," started Sally. "I'll go in and try and comfort Charlotte.   Why don't you come to the nurse's station and monitor the situation through the monitor.   You can then get assistance if required."

Sally tentatively waked up to the door and knocked.   She waited for a few seconds for a response before entering uninvited into the room.   Charlotte looked washed out.   Her eyes, red from crying, matched the sore skin from electrolysis.   As Sally got closer she changed her mind; the eyes looked worse.

Sally took Charlotte's hands into her own.   As Charlotte's tears slowly dwindled Sally said, "Why don't you lie down and let's talk."

Charlotte slowly nodded and clambered onto the bed.   She lay down in the foetal position hugging one of the pillows.   Despite the warmth of the room, Charlotte started to shiver.   Sally took the spare blanket from the back of the easy chair and covered Charlotte.

"Now tell me what's wrong.   Something must have caused you to get this upset."

"After my session with Angela I decided to have a good look at myself.   I stripped naked and looked at myself using the full-length mirror in the bathroom.   What I saw was not a girl, Charlotte, but a man without a penis.   My body is full of hair and does not have the correct shape.   I know I said that I would have a go at living as a girl but I don't know if I'm going to be able to do it.   It feels so wrong; my mind is saying man and every time I try to persuade myself otherwise it just doesn't feel correct."

"Oh why isn't Rachel available," moaned Sally to herself.

"Why did you agree to try and live as Charlotte if you feel it is so wrong?" asked Sally.

"We were discussing what I wanted from life.   One of my biggest desires is to be a parent.   I don't know which is more important, living as a man or becoming a parent. Since I'm now equipped to be a mother and not a father I decided to try and live as Charlotte.   Dr Ruiz said I could back out at any stage if I didn't like the situation."

Sally nodded trying to contemplate the dilemma that Charlotte found herself in.   Neither option sounded like a perfect solution.   As Charlotte, she would hate herself and as Simon would feel that something was missing in his life.

"Isn't this ward for people to have operations to become girls?" continued Charlotte.

Sally smiled at the way the question was phrased.   "Well they have always been girls.   They are just having the operation so that the body matches the mind.   In some respects you are the exact opposite to them; a boy trapped in a girl's body.   Why did you put on the panties if being a girl upsets you so much?"

"After seeing my reflection I decided that I needed to try harder to be a girl so I put on a pair of panties.   This simple act of putting on a piece of underwear brought such conflict.   Logically it is the way forward; my future.   However my mind rebelled against such thoughts.   Just holding them, knowing that I would be putting them on, caused me such turmoil."

"Let me surmise," said Sally.   "You have two main issues.   You don't know if the big hairy rugby player will be able to pass as a woman.   The other issue is that you don't know if you are going to be able to emotionally accept yourself as a woman?"

Charlotte thought for a few moments, "Yes I suppose that about sums it up."

"Well there is little I can do to help you with the last point.   That is something that you will find out as you go along.   However, I might be able to help regarding your doubts about if you'll ever be able to pass as a woman.   Go and wash your face and I'll be back in a few moments.   Try and make yourself presentable as I might be back with a guest."

As Charlotte went to the bathroom Sally slipped out of the room.   As Sally went past Jasmine she said, "Charlotte is afraid that she might never pass as a woman.   I'm going to see if Sue will help."

Jasmine nodded with a slight smile of agreement.

"Hi Sue," started Sally as she approached Sue's bed.   "How are you feeling?"

"I've just finished dilating so feel a bit sore," was the response.   "What are you still doing here?   Didn't your shift finish a bit ago?"

"Yes, but we have been having a problem," said Sally lowering her voice.   "However I need you to be able to keep what you see and hear confidential."

Sue looked at her indignantly.   "You know that as a GP I keep all medical items confidential.   For the first eighteen years of your life I was your GP.   I've kept all your secrets, even that one when you were fourteen."

"Thanks, if my parents had ever found out I'd seen you for emergency contraception and went on the pill I think I would have been grounded for life."

"Well tell me about her.   I take it was her that woke the ward up with her nightmare."

"Actually it was something slightly different called a night terror."

Sue looked sharply at Sally, her quiet patient demeanour gone; replaced by the caring, inquisitive medical professional.   "How old is she?"

"Fifteen."

"So SRS was due to a medical emergency.   I take it she is under quite a bit of stress to get a night terror at that age.   How are her parents coping with their son changing into their daughter?"

"Both of the parents are dead.   Please don't ask much more as there is a court injunction to protect her identity."   Sally went on to explain the current situation.

"Would you like me to talk with Charlotte?   I have some photos of me when I was still male.   Why don't you give her some of my background?   That should give her a better understanding."

"I think that might help," said a relieved Sally.

Sue put on her dressing gown over her nightie and grabbing her handbag followed Sally to the side room.   Sue waited outside as Sally slipped into Charlotte's room, "Are you ready for the visitor?"

"I think so," replied Charlotte.   "Though I don't know what they will think of me, looking like this."

"Come on in Sue," called Sally raising her voice.

Simon gasped as Sue walked in.   She looked like she was just over 6ft but there was nothing masculine about her.   "Hi, I'm Sue," she said introducing herself.   Sue's voice might have been slightly on the deep side but the intonation screamed female.

"Er, come in and have a seat," offered Charlotte unsure of what to do.

Sally and Sue came and sat opposite.   "Am I the first transsexual you've ever met?"

Charlotte gulped and nodded yes.

"Don't worry I don't bite," she said with a reassuring smile. "Anyway you may have met others but never have realised.   Now, I only know some of the issues you've had since the operation.   I don't have any details of your previous life or name and so we don't break the court injunction let's keep it that way."

"Sue has just had her SRS.   I knew Sue when I was younger as until I was eighteen she was my GP.   At that time, she was a man called Stuart.   That was the day job.   When not on call Stuart was a rugby player playing for Wigan."

Sue dug into her handbag and retrieved a photograph from the 1970's.   Charlotte just looked astonished that somebody who could have played at such a high level could now look so feminine.   After a few moments of quiet pondering Charlotte asked Sue, "I don't mean to be rude but can I ask you some questions?"

"Ask away.   I like to help people.   That is one of the reasons I wanted to be a doctor."

"When did you know that you wanted to be a woman?"

"I was about eight.   I didn't understand why I felt that way.   I certainly didn't have a name for the issue.   As I grew up, I realised that other people didn't feel the same so I kept quiet.   It wasn't legal to be gay in England till 1967 so what chance did a transsexual have.   Then in 1970 there was a court case that decided that a transsexual was the sex of birth and a man that changed sex to be a woman was still legally a man.   With all that pressure I decided to live with the life I had.   I was good at rugby and by playing such a masculine game nobody suspected my secret desire.   It wasn't until people like Lynne Jones, she's a MP for the Labour Party, started pushing for the law to be changed that I decided to finally live the life I should."

"Wow," said Charlotte. "How did you manage to survive with being a woman trapped inside the body of a man?     Seeing the image in the mirror must have been awful."

"Did you notice in the photograph that I had a beard?   If I had shaved, I would have had to look at myself.   I kept my hair very short so I didn't have to look in a mirror to comb my hair.   Actually what was worse was not understanding why I felt that I should have been doing things my sister was doing.   Once I realised that I was actually a girl things became slightly easier."

Sue talked for another hour regarding her past and how she coped with a life knowing the body was wrong.   Sally, who only knew some, sat back and the respect that she had for her patient rose.

"Do you think I will be able to ever pass?" asked Charlotte.

"If I could manage it then I'm sure that if that is what you want then you will be able to achieve it.   Is it what you want?"

"I don't know what I want.   However I'm told that this is my best chance for a normal life so am willing to give it a try."

Sue pondered that response wondering what had caused the person in front of her to have to suffer such a major life change.   "I can see that you started on electrolysis today.   How was it?"

"The cheeks and neck weren't too bad but the upper lip was a major pain."

Sue laughed and asked, "Talking of pain I presume you've had your packing out.     How are you getting on with dilation?"

"What packing and what's dilation?" Charlotte asked unsure what Sue was asking.

"Sue," warned Sally.   "I don't think you should be asking questions like this."

"Sally, I know my operation was different from normal.   I'd like to hear what Sue has to say.   My past is what the injunction was about and Sue has already said that she would keep what she learns in here to herself."

Sally gave a shrug of resignation and Charlotte asked again, "Sue, tell me what the packing is and what dilation is."

"When they construct the vaginal passage they fill it with surgical packing.   That is so the body has time to recover before the start of dilation.   Since the vagina was constructed from penile tissue it doesn't now how to behave as a vagina.   Instead of staying open it will attempt to close and the skin knit together.   Patients dilate to keep the new opening from closing."

"So to put it crudely, you have to use something like a dildo to penetrate yourself or you will lose what you had constructed."

Sally and Sue winced at the generalisation but both nodded in agreement.

"So is it painful," Charlotte asked kindly.

"Sometimes," responded Sue, "The removal of the packing was more uncomfortable.   However, dilation can be painful but is worth it.   I've only been dilating for a few days and it is something that I will get used to.   I'm still very sore from the operation but at least I can go home in a few days to recuperate."

"I leave tomorrow," said Charlotte.   "I'm going on a course to teach me how to behave like a woman.   Well I might end up like a tomboy but I hope to be able to go back to school before the summer holidays.   Since I now have no family I'll probably end up in care."

"You said your operation was on Saturday?   That's very a very quick recovery time.   What are your biggest concerns about living as a woman?"

Charlotte thought for a moment, "Probably in this order; if I will ever be able to accept life as a woman; if I will be able to pass as a woman and lastly I'm dreading having my first period."

Sally glared at Charlotte, which Sue noticed.   Sue at first just thought that Charlotte was just not informed that post op transsexuals don't have periods.   However, with the look that Sally gave Charlotte she was rapidly changing her mind.   Suddenly things began to make sense to Sue; the quick healing times, no need to dilate.  

"Was this a transplant?" she asked.   Sally glumly nodded her head.

"Well no wonder you're confused," said Sue.   "To have to choose between living a full, but conflicted, life as a woman against living as a stable but incomplete male is something nobody should have to decide."

Sue turned to Sally and asked, "Is Charlotte having to take medication to stop organ rejection?"

"No, it was an almost perfect tissue match."

Sue was going to ask another question but decided not to.   She chatted for another thirty minutes explaining some of things that could be done if living life as a female was decided.   When Charlotte stifled a yawn Sally decided to draw the chat to an end.

"Sue, I think it is time that we let Charlotte go to sleep.   Tomorrow is going to be a long day for her."

The morning dawned and Charlotte stretched as she awoke. Last nights conversation with Sally Archer and Sue Barker had certainly helped. It had given her a lot to think about but it also relieved a lot of the built up stress. Last nights sleep was the first full nights sleep since the accident. There had been no bad dreams, no nightmares and no night terror attacks.

Jasmine watched on the monitor as Charlotte woke up slightly later than normal and went to greet her before Charlotte went to have her shower.

"I believe you're leaving us today?" Jasmine said as she sat the breakfast tray she was carrying down.

"Yes," she said looking unhappily at the breakfast. "I think Kelly Baxter is collecting me at about ten."

Jasmine went over to Charlotte to give her a good bye hug. However Charlotte, still unsure of herself, pulled away.

"Its okay, Charlotte," Jasmine said not trying to hug Charlotte again. "I just wanted you to know how much you mean to the people that know you here. You've been a very brave person and I wish you find happiness."

"I don't know if I can ever truly be happy," Charlotte replied looking out of the window. "I've lost both my parents and my manhood. My life isn't what it was. But I will try to find something in my new life that I can find happiness in."

"I'm sorry but for the next few days you will need to go back to being Simon. Your neighbours and vicar don't know about your change and since you probably won't see them again then it's best you let them remember who you were not what you've become."

Charlotte thought about it for a few moments and then nodded her consent. "I was just getting used to this," she said flourishing her arms. "However I understand and agree. But I don't have any clothes."

"Your suitcase was not sent to America. While you shower I'll bring in something for you to wear."

In the shower Charlotte decided to use the masculine smelling gel. As the washed away the soapy residue Simon tried to reassert himself. In fact there wasn't much difference, just a way he looked at himself and tried to act. Though even in Charlotte mode people would have seen a man. Since there wouldn't be any electrolysis for several days Simon shaved the hair from his face.

On the bed was a short-sleeved shirt, a pair of light trousers and a jumper. These were what he was planning to wear on the way home. Simon thought about what he'd packed and it was mostly shorts and t-shirts. This was probably the only clothes in the suitcase that would be practical in the fickle English weather.

When Rachel came in she saw a confused Simon sat in the chair. "What's wrong Simon?" she asked, reverting to his male name as he was dressed in male clothes.

"I don't know," he replied looking on the verge of tears. "I really don't know anything anymore. I enjoy being Simon but I know that is probably not where my future lies. It was really difficult to decide to live a Charlotte and just when I start to get used to the idea I'm back as Simon."

"So do you feel confused?" asked Rachel sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Confused isn't the correct word," Simon replied slowly. "I feel I'm in a void not knowing where I'm heading. Things are confusing but it is more than that. Life has gone from being stable to being so unknown. I don't know if in six months I am going to be a boy or a girl. If I don't even know that, how am I supposed to decide what I want to do in life? How can I have any direction, any motivation?"

"You are only fifteen," said Rachel. "There is plenty of time for you to decide what you want to do with your life. Right now you need to concentrate on learning if you want to live as a girl or a boy. Kelly will help you learn to live as a girl so you can make a choice. You don't have to decide now, next week or even in six months time. Once you learn how to be a girl give it a chance. If you can live like that then you still have the chance of being a parent. If you can't, then live as a boy, nobody will mind."

"I bet Dr Millard would," Simon responded cattishly. "His great experiment wanting out."

Rachel didn't bat an eyelid, "No he wouldn't. The special sex change was so that you still had the opportunity to be a parent. Nobody is straight jacketing you into being a girl. If you decide you prefer to live as a man then that's what you should do. Always follow your heart not what other people want or expect."

Just then there was a knock on the door. "Please wait," called Rachel.

"Do you still want to take Kelly's help?" Rachel asked Simon.

Simon thought for a moment as he blew his nose into a tissue. "Yes," he replied. "I think I do."

"Are you okay for them to come in now?" she asked.

Simon just nodded and Rachel called, "Come in." and soon Simon was being introduced to Kelly Baxter. Kelly Baxter was a slender woman in her early forties. Her blond hair was cut into a bob and she talked about the upcoming few days.

After a few minutes chatting together there was a knock on the door and in walked all the people who had been involved looking after Simon. Sally, Jasmine, Dr Ruiz and Dr Millard marched in, followed by a rather flushed looking Sue.

"What's going on?" asked Simon looking puzzled.

"You have been such a good patient," said Sally. "You've had to deal with a lot of issues since that fateful Saturday morning and we all wanted to be here to say goodbye."

Simon gave a short chuckle in disbelief, "I've not been a good patient at all. I disturbed you all with my night terror and probably disturbed the patients as well."

"I would have expected most patients to be total basket cases after such loss," said Rachel, before Sally could reply. "You've had your struggles but you haven't given in. You've battled through your nightmares and come out ahead. You are looking to the future and not looking back. No Simon, you are a model patient."

"Thank you," whispered Simon, overcome with emotion at the response he'd just been given.

"Now we have all clubbed together to get you something to remember us by, and as a thank you for being so brave," said Jasmine giving Simon a small wrapped box.

Simon again looked shocked but took the offered box and fumbled to open it. Eventually he worked passed the tape to reveal a small jewellers box. He opened it to find a gold pendant.

"This is a Saint Christopher pendant," informed Sally.

"Ohh," said Simon, understanding it significance. He took the pendant from the box and, with the help of Kelly, placed it round his neck. "Thank you," said Simon as he placed it below his shirt. "Thank you all very much. I doubt I would have made it without all of your help."

"I think we'd better be going, "said Kelly breaking the silence that followed.

So at quarter past ten, slightly later than planned, a rather nervous Simon left the ward walking next to his guardian Kelly. Dr Tom Millard, Dr Rachel Ruiz, Sally, Jasmine and Dr Sue Barker gave Simon a cheerful farewell.

***

The journey to Simon's house took longer than expected. It had taken longer than anyone would reasonably expect. The delay on the M25 was normal and expected. London's orbital motorway wasn't called Europe's largest car park for nothing. However when we turned on to the M1 the crawl was worse than normal. Just after junction eight, the car ground to a halt and they inched slowly forward. After an hour, they had travelled about two miles when across on the other carriageway they saw the blue flashing lights.

"I expected an accident but not at the other side," Simon said to Kelly.

"This motorway never surprises me," Kelly replied. "If it isn't this stretch then the bit between Nottingham and Sheffield can be just as bad."

Eventually they passed the accident and suddenly they were travelling a lot faster and had managed to reach fifty miles an hour before they again slowed and eventually came to a halt. They crawled for another hour before passing a burnt out lorry occupying the hard shoulder. The fire crew were still dousing down the smouldering remains as we passed. The inside lane was still closed due to a fuel spillage.

Eventually worn out we pulled into the driveway. The house silhouetted against the dusk background looked a forlorn sight. Simon sighed as he stared at the house remembering that a few days ago it belonged to his parents. Now it was his.

"This I think belongs to you," said Kelly handing Simon the houses front door key. "The cleanup team passed all your belongings to Social Services to be passed onto you when you were discharged from hospital. I have the suitcases and all the items that were with your Mum and Dad in the boot."

Simon climbed out of the car and walked slowly to the front door. There he stood staring at the door. Kelly who was standing behind let him fight the demons that were playing in his mind. Reluctantly Simon stepped forward and placed the key into the lock. Taking a big breath he opened the door and entered beckoning Kelly to follow. The house was cool so he went to turn on the heating.

"I've got a few things for tea," said Kelly producing a cool box. "Can you help me bring in the suitcases?"

"Let's get them now and then you can tell me what we need to do," Simon said as he finished switching on the heating system.

As they stepped out of the house they were met by four policemen. "Excuse me," one of them said to Kelly. "Are you the owner of this house?"

"No she isn't," interrupted Simon. "But I am."

"Likely story," one of the police said as he shone his torch into Simons face. "You can't be more than thirteen."

Kelly noticed a neighbour peering through a crack in her curtains. "Perhaps one of the neighbours could verify who Simon is", she said.

One of the younger police officers was dispatched while Simon invited the other three officers into the lounge. Five minutes later Mrs Truman came in with the young police officer.

"Hi Mrs Truman," said Simon to his neighbour. Mrs Truman was in her early seventies, slightly plump and was the streets main gossiper.

"Simon," she gasped, "but you're on holiday in America. You aren't due back till next week."

"You know the plane crash at Gatwick?" Simon asked her.

"Yes," she replied. "Did that stop you going? May be you could go later on in the year. Where are your parents?"

Simon looked at Kelly who nodded. "My parents and I were in the terminal building when it collapsed. They both died and I was very badly injured. I've just got out of hospital. This is Kelly Baxter; she is my guardian for a few months while I fully recuperate."

"Oh you poor thing," said Mrs Truman flinging herself at Simon. "If there is anything I can do please let me know."

"Just keep it quiet," Simon said knowing full well that most of the town would know in under half an hour of her leaving. "Ms Baxter will be assisting me to go through my parents belongings. After that, I will probably sell the house. I thought about renting it out but every time I hear about the house it will remind me of what I've lost."

With Mrs Truman and the police satisfied that the house was not being burgled they all left. As soon as they were out of the house, Kelly just folded up into fits of giggles. "Was she real?" she gasped between giggles.

"Oh yes," Simon replied. "You daren't do anything wrong on this street as Mrs Truman would have your parents know about it."

After a light meal, Simon and Kelly went to tackle the paperwork. Simon pulled down a big cardboard box from the top shelf of his deceased parent's wardrobe. Inside were details of the house mortgage, life assurance policies, savings policies and lastly there was a will. There was even a policy to cover funeral expenses.

"It looks like your parents planned well," said Kelly as she wrote down the information onto a pad. "It looks like tomorrow we need to notify a few people about their deaths and see a solicitor about the will"

Simon gave a yawn and glanced at the clock. It was nearly ten. Travelling always wore him out. "Its getting late and I think I should probably go to bed soon," Simon sensibly said as he stifled a second yawn.

"I think you're right," replied Kelly as she started yawning. "Today has been a long one."

"Did you come from your home?" asked Simon. "Actually where is it we are going to?"

"I was at a small school called Hayfield Hall which is not far from here," she replied. "It is a relatively new school, about four years old, which helps children who don't fit into mainstream education. A lot are transsexuals. The school lets them express how they want to be, not how society expects them to be. I sometimes help out there."

"Is that were I'm going?" asked Simon wondering what the people would be like.

"No," Kelly answered, "I'm taking you to my home in a small rural part of Gloucestershire. While Hayfield Hall does have a lot of psychiatric staff to help the children with dealing with being transgendered it was decided that you have a lot of other issues to deal with."

"Let me show you were the spare bedroom is," said Simon staggering to his feet and then helping Kelly up. When he knew that Kelly was okay he bade her a good night and for the first time since being home opened the door to his old life.

As he flicked on his bedroom light, all his history came flooding back. On the shelf next to his bedroom window were trophies from rugby; a game he knew he would never play again. His sheets were masculine. In fact the whole room screamed of the one thing he had lost. His manhood.

Over the last few days Simon had been gradually introduced to some of the feminine things. While he hadn't had chance to fully appreciate any of it, the sudden jar back to being in a masculine room reinforced his loss.

Simon left his overnight bag untouched in the corner of his room and donned an old pair of pyjamas he hadn't packed for America. There hadn't been time to go through the suitcases; that would wait till tomorrow.

Simon couldn't sleep. How was tired but every time he closed his eyes he remembered the black of being trapped in the rubble. In the hospital he felt safe. The hospital smell constantly reassured his tortured body that he was safe. Now that reassuring smell was gone and with it went peace from the accident.

After an hour of tossing Simon got up and went to the kitchen to make himself a mug of hot milk hoping that it might help settle his tortured mind.

Kelly who had been listening to Simon toss had been waiting for him to offer herself as help. When she heard him go downstairs she knew this was a good time.

"Hi Simon," she said as she took a seat to watch him prepare the warm milk.

"Would you like some," he asked as he poured the warm milk into a large mug.

"I'll just have some water," she said.

Simon passed her a glass of water and sat down next to her encasing his large hands around the mug.

"Couldn't sleep?" asked Kelly.

"No," Simon replied staring at the table wondering why Kelly was there.

"Worried about the funeral?"

"Not really. Not looking forward to it but it something that must be done."

"You know you don't have to attend?"

"I know. But I want to. I think I need to. I hope it will be the beginning to the end of this nightmare. Since leaving hospital I haven't been able to sleep. I'm tired but every time I close my eyes I'm back buried in the rubble talking to Mum unaware that she is slowly dying."

"What were your parents like?" Kelly asked as Simon took a sip of his warm milk.

"Wonderful. They were always loving and kind. They encouraged my rugby playing but they were firm that if my school work slipped they would not let me play or train," Simon's words trailed off and looked thoughtful. Suddenly he jumped up saying, "Stay here. I'll be right back."

Simon returned with three thick photograph albums and placed them reverently on the side of the table away from the drinks. "These are what we called our remembrance albums," he said. "They are a catalogue of each of our lives. Strange why we always called them remembrance albums as I suppose that's what my parents ones are. Mine I presume is a remembrance of the time I was a boy."

The first album Simon opened was his mothers. "This was originally started by my grandparents and when she was old enough she added photographs herself."

Simon and Kelly looked at the first album for two hours. The early photographs Simon had no recollection of, being before he was born and they were both reliant on the information pasted next to them. As they leafed through they saw a happy picture of Helen expecting. She looked totally radiant and happy that Simon gave a slight sigh of happiness. Kelly just sat back and watched Simon as he looked at pictures of his pregnant Mum and afterwards her holding her tiny baby. Tears started to trickle down his cheeks.

"You'd love to be a parent," said Kelly quietly recalling a conversation she'd had with Rachel regarding Simon.

He just nodded his soul bared open. "This is the way forward," thought Kelly as she held her young charge.

"Why?" she asked as Simon gradually regained some composure.

"The thought that I'd be able to help a child grow, to tend its needs, to protect it, help it find its way in life. There are lots of reasons," he said, the wonder in his eyes sparkling in the tears yet to fall.

The tears had drained Simon of his remaining energy and he started to drift to sleep in Kelly's comforting arms. Simon, however, was far too big for Kelly to carry to bed so she helped him up and escorted him upstairs her kind comforting arms still around him. Kelly tucked him into bed just like his mother had done ten years ago and sat in his room till he went to sleep.

Back in her room, Kelly pulled out a thick file with Simon and Charlotte Turner written in large writing on the front. She took out a pad and paper and added her recent observations regarding Simon. This took a good hour. Just as she settled into a deep sleep, she was awoken to a loud scream.

Kelly didn't bother with her dressing gown and rushed in the dark to where she thought the door was. Unfortunately she didn't have her bearings and when she opened the door ended up with a face full of clothes. "Oh yeah," she thought, "that where the wardrobe is."

After eventually finding the door, Kelly grabbed a small bottle she kept in her bag for situations like this and rushed into Simon's room. He was sat upright tears steaming down his cheeks.

"I'm here," said Kelly clambering onto the bed to comfort Simon. Just before she climbed on she saw that Simon was shivering with fright and pulled the end of the duvet around him. Once on the bed Kelly held Simon tightly and talked comfortable words until the shaking diminished.

"That was horrible," he uttered trying to get the nasty taste out of his mouth.

"Have a sip of this," Kelly said offering the drink.

Simon gratefully took it and rinsed the contents round his mouth before swallowing. "Gahh," he uttered. "Thanks."

After Simon had taken a few sips Kelly decided to tackle the issue, "Do you want to talk about it?" she asked.

Simon remembered the time he'd shared his nightmare with Jasmine and it had helped. "Thanks, I'd like that," he replied.

"I'm glad that you're able to accept help," she said. "So tell me about your nightmare."

"I was reliving the accident. I was in the terminal building watching the plane land and taxi towards the gate. Mum and Dad were alive and we were all excited. Then it happened all over again. The plane crashed and the building collapsing all like it did less than a week ago. It felt like I could feel the mortar rain down on me and I screamed. I don't know if the scream was in the dream or not."

"Well you screamed out loud, which woke me up and probably the neighbours as well."

"Sorry," Simon said. "Are you sure you want me to stay?"

"Of course," Kelly replied. "It might take a bit but you will get over it. The important thing is that you don't bottle up your feelings. Talk to me about them. A problem shared is a problem halved. Now go and clean yourself up and then we'll get you settled."

When Simon got back into bed he lay down but didn't look very settled.

"Frightened to sleep?" Kelly asked as she tucked him in.

"A little," Simon replied giving a slight shudder.

"Well according to your notes you only ever suffered one nightmare per night. So going on past performance you should be okay. What about when you were younger. Your notes said you suffered night terrors until you were seven. Did you only get one attack per night?"

"I think so."

"Then you should be okay," reassured Kelly. "Tomorrow is going to be a long day."

Kelly sat in a chair and watched Simon fall asleep. When she was sure that he wouldn't wake she went back to her own room hoping and praying that Simon would sleep through."

Simon awoke just as the day was dawning. The long shadows of the night shortened as the safety of the sun sent its first rays of light shooting into the room. Simon had survived another night of torturous dreams.

During breakfast Kelly explained today's plan, "There are two major things we have to do today. Firstly, we need to get the will sorted. The will should mention the type of funeral your parents wanted."

At nine Kelly leafed through the yellow pages and rang some of the local solicitor offices she eventually found one that sounded competent and was able to see them at ten.

The will basically said that if either parent died then the surviving one got everything. On the event that both died then everything was inherited by Simon and placed in trust till he was eighteen. There funeral wishes were outlined at the top of the will. They would like to be buried after a church funeral service.

***

"Hi, Simon," said Allan Roberts the local vicar.

"Come on in," said Simon opening the door wider and introduced him to Kelly, "This is Kelly Baxter, she is looking after me for a few months."

"I'm Allan Roberts," he said offering his hand to Kelly. "I heard about Simon's loss and came to see if I could help."

"Come on through," said Simon taking charge. "Kelly was going to ring you tomorrow morning. We only got the will read today and it said that my parents would like a church funeral followed by burial."

"Would you like a drink?" Simon asked as all three of them went into the lounge.

"Black coffee, no sugar, please" replied Allan.

"Do you want me to make it?" asked Kelly.

"I'll do it as I know where things are," Simon replied ushering the other two to sit down. "What do you want Kelly?"

"Coffee with just a splash of milk, no sugar please."

"I'll be back in a jiff," Simon replied disappearing into the kitchen.

Simon returned a few moments later carrying a tray with two mugs of steaming coffee and a glass of orange juice.

"Would you like me to officiate at the funeral?" asked Allan.

"Please," Simon replied. "I think Kelly has on her list to speak with the funeral director tomorrow." Kelly, who had sat back to let Simon deal with the issues as he had want to, just nodded.

"Well give me a ring tomorrow with the details but I have availability most mornings during the week. Now how are you coping? I saw the pictures and never dreamt that it was you they were digging out of the rubble."

"I really miss my parents," replied a subdued Simon. "I don't know what they did for God to take them so early in there lives and cause me so much medical issues. They were good people and we attended church most Sundays."

Allan put down his half drunk mug of coffee and gave Simon his full attention. Kelly also sat more upright and watched the exchange, ready to intercede if required. Simon was struggling to keep his emotions in check.

"God operates in mysterious ways," said Allan. "Why does he allow war to kill so many people? God gave us the freewill to operate as we see fit. God didn't make the people turn on their mobile phones that made the plane crash. He however gives people gifts such as the ability to help heal to the doctors."

Kelly had moved forward and was sat right next to Simon.

"Your parents were good people Simon. They brought you up well and asked for forgiveness for their weaknesses before God. I am sure that they will have both gone to Heaven to live a new everlasting life."

"Oh," was all Simon could say. His eyes started to well up and he just looked into his drink.

"Would you like us to pray for your parents?" Allan asked.

All Simon could do was nod. Allan moved next to Simon and placed his left hand on Simons back.

"Lord, please watch over Helen and Chris. They were unfortunately taken from their loving child who now mourns his loss. Helen and Chris were both loving parents and good Christians. Please take them into your loving arms and accept them into Heaven where they can live in everlasting peace. We ask this in Jesus name. Amen."

Simon and Kelly both uttered "Amen."

The little composure that Simon had vanished and the emotions that had been building up pushed to the front. The tears again started as the vicar said, "Lord, please watch over Simon. His loss of his parents at this important time of his life is particularly devastating. Please comfort him and guide him to see joys that his future life may have. Help him recover from his injuries and provide guidance and wisdom to Kelly and all the other people that have helped and will help him in the future. We ask this in Jesus name. Amen."

Simon couldn't say anything as he remembered his parents. He remembered their love, their patience, their kindness and their compassion. He remembered when he was six and had fallen off his bicycle and had been carried home by his father with Simon in one arm and the bike being carried in the other. Simon's father repaired the bike while his mother tended his wounds and shock.

The words of comfort spoken by Kelly and Allan were oblivious to Simon as he sank deeper into his memories. Memories of a happy childhood were the predominant memory that invaded Simon's troubled and tortured mind. His parents. His loving parents. Gone. They were not in the lounge. They weren't there to take his pain away. They could never comfort him and say they loved him. They were gone.

Simon grabbed hold of Kelly and wept.

Simon sat nervously waiting for the hearse to arrive. He was dressed in a black suit with a solemn black tie. Kelly his ever shadow, ready to help and guide, sat next to him. "It will be here soon," she said as Simon checked his watch again.

The room was mostly bare, like the rest of the house. The Salvation Army had just been to collect the beds and the biggest thing left was the settee, which the estate agent would oversee the collection of tomorrow.

"I know," he replied, pulling his shirtsleeve over his watch. "I just want to get today over with."

"I think it was a great idea getting your parents bosses to do readings at the funeral," she said trying to distract Simon from looking at his watch again.

"I don't think I would have been able to cope," Simon agreed. "Not after how I reacted when the vicar came."

The sound of a vehicle pulling up made Simon jump up and look out of the windows. There were three cars waiting outside, two hearses and a black limousine.

"Why is there a third car?" Simon asked Kelly.

"You don't ride in the hearse," Kelly replied trying not to smile on this solemn day.

The doorbell rang and Simon ushered in the head undertaker. He spent a few minutes updating them on what would happen. Simon opened the front door and after putting on his jacket stepped out into the warm spring day. The cheerful flowering daffodils in the garden, a sign of rebirth, fluttered gently in the breeze as Simon and Kelly walked towards the awaiting car.

When the car drew up outside the church Simon and Kelly waited as a team of men began to unload the two coffins.

"Kelly," said Simon. "Would it be possible for you to go into church now, ahead of the coffins, leaving me to walk behind them on my own?"

"If that is what you want," replied a concerned Kelly. "Will you be okay?"

"I'd love to have you with me," replied Simon, "but I want it to be a sign that I'm the last of the family left. Would you still sit with me in the front pew? I think I will need your support."

"Okay," confirmed Kelly. After making sure he was okay entered the church, leaving Simon alone.

The coffins were hoisted onto the shoulders of the pallbearers and they made their way slowly down the gravel path towards the church. Simon walked slowly behind keeping in pace with the coffins. His glare fully focused on the moving wood ahead.

Through the entrance to the church they went, the crunch of the gravel replaced by the slight thud of rubber against concrete as the procession neared its end. Ahead, in the aisle between the choir stalls were two stands awaiting the arrival of the coffins. The gentle murmur of the congregation fell silent and the sound of people standing as the first coffin appeared.

"We receive the body of our brother Christopher Turner and our sister Helen Turner with confidence in God, the giver of life, who raised the Lord Jesus from the dead," said Allan Roberts from the back of the church.

"I am the resurrection and the life, says the Lord. Those who believe in me, even though they die, will live, and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die," quoted Allan from John.

Through the church the coffins made their way forward. Step by step they neared their stands. Simon, as he went through the church door, saw for the first time a nearly full church. People from the factory where Dad used to work were in the right-hand pew. On the left pew, it was full of children with their parents from the school in the neighbouring town, where Mum was an English teacher.

"How did they know?" thought Simon to himself as he walked down the aisle, the coffins nearing the end of their journey. "All these people were here to say farewell to his parents."

As the first coffin was put onto its stand the procession came to a halt. Simon looked around and saw many friends from the area where he lived. Sitting at the back were the rescuers that had pulled him and his parents out of the rubble. It was all too much and the tears started flowing. As the first coffin was placed with care onto its plinth, the second coffin made its way forward. At last, Simon was able to stand by the front pew, out of the direct gaze of the majority of the congregation.

Kelly, who was waiting, didn't say a thing but gently squeezed his hand to let him know that she was there. She silently passed him a linen hanky which he gratefully took.

The readings and hymns settled Simon down. The service had gone exactly as he'd discussed with the vicar. Kelly had been a wonderful support to Simon through the discussions, often comforting him when the pain of discussing his parents final arrangements.

After the readings the Vicar asked the congregation, "Would anyone else like to say some words about the deceased?"

There was silence for a few seconds and suddenly a girl from where Mum used to teach rose and walked towards the front. There was an astonished gasp from the other schoolchildren and one of the teachers made a slight attempt to stop her. The girl, however, was adamant that she wanted to say something. She wasn't with her parents but had come to the funeral on her own.

"Mrs Turner was my form tutor," stated Nicola in her ill-fitting uniform. "I had a bad reputation at school and I was the one most looked for when something bad happened. Mrs Turner didn't do that. She was always fair. She helped me when I was repeatedly late for school by giving me a small alarm clock. I used to be often late for school I am now always on time. Through her encouragement and support I have started to become a better person. I will miss Mrs Turner. She didn't just help me she helped a lot of people in school."

Nicola paused and looked at the people from her school and then scurried back to her seat. The girl that once had ruled the school through fear was now reduced to tears.

A smartly dressed boy wearing a crisp uniform got up and walked to the front. "Mrs Turner saved my life. I was confused about a lot of things. Mrs Turner spent time talking to me and helping me realise I wasn't a freak. Without Mrs Turner I would not be here."

That admission caused a slight stir among his school chums. What on earth was he talking about? The murmuring soon died down as the next person came forward. It was like the whole congregation wanted to say something about Simon's parents.

Simon just sat there tears flooding down his face as child after child came forward telling their words from their heart about his Mum. When the children dried up somebody from where his Dad worked came forward. These were more salient memories; less emotional but none the less affected Simon just as much. The half an hour church service turned into an hour and a half.

"Our eyes, Lord, are wasted with grief;
you know we are weary with groaning.
As we remember our death
in the dark emptiness of the night,
have mercy on us and heal us;
forgive us and take away our fear
through the dying and rising of Jesus your Son"

After the Lords Prayer and a blessing, the church service was over. Simon followed the coffin out of the church feeling numb after such a long service. Again, Kelly let Simon follow the coffins by himself.

Simon however didn't follow the coffins to the hearse. He stayed just inside the church, to say thank you to many people who wouldn't go to the burial. Kelly hovered nearby making sure Simon was okay but not getting in his way.

When the congregation had filtered out Simon and Kelly walked to the awaiting funeral car for the four mile journey to the cemetery.

"How are you coping?" Kelly asked Simon as the car pulled away from the church.

"I'll be glad when today is over," replied Simon. "I'm not looking forward to the burial."

"You don't have to be there," Kelly responded, trying to judge Simon's current emotional stability.

Simon paused for a moment and then responded vehemently, "Oh yes I do. I'm not going to have gone through all the arrangements and not end up saying a final farewell."

Kelly was still concerned about Simon being so tense and decided to try to lighten him up with a story from her past, "At least we have a driver who knows where to go," Kelly said. "When I was younger I lost my Grandmother. Hers was a cremation in a town I wasn't familiar with. After the church service a line of cars followed the hearse to the crematorium. I was driving the last car and had my brother in with me. We stopped at a red light when all the other cars had gone through. We drove for about an hour looking for the crematorium. We never found it."

Simon looked incredulously at Kelly, "You can't be serious?" he asked.

"Very much so. My brother didn't speak to me for weeks."

Simon just stared at Kelly in shock that something like that could happen. He was still picturing the situation in his mind as the car swept through the large iron gates into the grounds of the cemetery.

The coffins were unloaded and reverently carried to the freshly dug grave. This grave was double the standard width. Simon's parents were to be buried next to each other; together in life and together in death. On the far side of the grave was a mound of dirt to refill the grave. On either side was a green mat for the coffins to sit on.

As they waited for the vicar to arrive, Simon started to remember the build-up to the fateful day.

I'd got home from school and said a passionate goodbye to Kirsty. As per usual I was the first one home. My mother would be home in about and hour. My father would be back in about two hours. I'd just settled down to do my homework when the phone rang. The phone never went at this time.

"Oh, Simon," wailed a distraught Kirsty. "Dad just told me he has a new job and we've got to move."

"Where are you going?" I replied getting upset. I'd grown up with Kirsty and been friends with her for years. Only recently had that relationship bloomed into a more romantic variety.

"I don't know," she sobbed. "Dad hasn't said. We go in a few months."

"I'm on my way," I promised. For the first time I abandoned my homework and after writing a quick note to Mum headed of to see Kirsty.

Two minutes later I arrived at Kirsty's house.

"She's in her room," said Kirsty's Mum letting me in. "Just keep the door open."

In spite of my sadness I still gave a weak smile. Until our romance blossomed Kirsty's mother never used to worry about us being alone.

At eight Kirsty's Mum sent me home as she said they had something to discuss. I still hadn't learnt where they were moving to. All I'd learnt was they were probably moving just before Easter.

I got home to find my parents waiting for me. I took a deep breath and tried to clear the emotions from my mind. I didn't want to seem upset in front of my parents.

"Are you okay, son?" asked Mum coming to me as I walked into the lounge.

"No," I responded. I hadn't wanted to discuss this with my parents. "I wanted to spend more time with Kirsty, but you asked me to come home."

"Yes," Dad replied. "We had some news for you ourselves."

"Oh?" I queried

"Yes, we're going on holiday over Easter," replied Mum.

"Really?" I responded. We hadn't been on holiday for a few years. Dad got a big promotion last year which now made it possible.

"How does Disneyworld sound?"

"Is that the one in California?" I asked starting to get excited.

"No, it's the one in Florida."

I grinned like a bad beast for a few seconds when today suddenly crashed back around me. "But that's when Kirsty leaves."

Mum looked quickly at Dad who said, "We thought it might be best so that you don't get too upset."

Simon's reflection on his time with his parents ended when the Funerals Directors mobile phone broke the stillness. The Vicar had suffered a puncture during the journey so the Funeral Director drove off to rescue him. Kelly steered Simon to a nearby bench where he continued to reflect on the day his life changed forever

"No, that's not right," said Dad as we went speeding down the dual carriageway again. We had darted between the north and south terminal several times looking for the road to the long term car park.

"Turn left here," said Mum suddenly as she scrutinised the map. Dad was just about to go past when Mum made the sudden announcement and we went at speed off the dual carriageway.

"Not so fast," I complained as I got flung to the right. Kirsty had told me to enjoy the holiday and not let her departure spoil it. We would soon be back in contact.

All this banter was done in good fun. We had got up at two in the morning and we'd all had a grin on since then. Today was the happiest I'd ever been and it looked like my parents had lost 20 years. They bounced around the house like they were little children themselves.

We eventually found the car park. Dad pulled into a parking spot, he and I pulled out the luggage while Mum went to book the car in. Yes, there might have been clothes for a fortnight but since they were mostly shorts and t-shirts, we only had two suitcases.

Mum came back with two men. The first would go and park the car in the secure parking area. The second was the courtesy bus driver. Since it was only half five we were the only passengers. Our plane wasn't for a long time but my parents wanted me to experience the excitement at the airport.

When we got to the check-in desk we were the only ones there. We waited for ten minutes for the desk to open. We were the first to check-in so we got to choose the seats that we wanted. The flight was going to be very busy so we were glad we got seats towards the front of the aeroplane. We would be able to get off quickly at the other end without the usual crush of people.

"Lets go and get breakfast," said Dad as our suitcases disappeared. I hope that they find there way to our plane. I wouldn't want to spend the first few days of my holiday shopping.

We went up the escalators and it was like a small town. Shops, restaurants and even a pub begged for our attention. We chose to have a full English breakfast in a small restaurant. The side of the restaurant had huge windows that allowed us to look at the activity outside. Ground staff were scuttling around and we even saw a plane land.

After eating, we all linked arms went through the security checks and were able to go airside. As we sat waiting for our flight to be assigned a gate, we gazed at the aeroplanes landing. The morning dusk started to give-way as the first glimpse of sunshine filtered over the horizon.

"Look Mum," I said excitedly pointing to the departure screen. "Our flight has just changed to "Proceed to gate 65".

"Okay," she said giggling. "Let's go and find the gate."

If I'd been younger I'm sure I'd have skipped along. I was so excited about the trip. At the gate there wasn't much. There appeared to be a small coffee outlet but was closed at this time of the morning.

I saw the men working hard preparing for the arrival of a plane. So after getting permission I wandered over to gate 69 where it was to dock. The plane approached, the still low sun glistening against its paintwork.

"Simon," I heard my Mum shout as the plane approached too fast to stop in the remaining distance.

Mum started running towards me. My father who was further away didn't see what was happening and was startled to hear my Mums alarming call. As Mum came closer I saw my father start walking briskly to see what the commotion was about.

The plane inched forward like an unforgiving monster, ready to devour its prey. The sound of the plane ripping the terminal building forever embedded into my mind.

As the plane hit the building, my father broke into a run to try to reach me and Mum. My unfit father never made it to me. Mum was very close but she wasn't close enough to touch.

The look on my parents face as they came towards me as the roof of the building collapsed was horrific. The look of agony as the material started to rain down followed by the look of horror as we saw each other disappear from view. The final agonising scream of "SIMON!" from my Mum, as she disappeared forever from my view, was forever sealed into my heart.

Kelly grabbed hold of Simon as his scream echoed around the gravestones. Simon's reflection abruptly ended as he remembered the building collapse.

Eventually the vicar arrived and he conducted a short ceremony on the side of the grave. The wind ruffled Kelly's hair as the service progressed. Eventually his father's coffin was lowered as the following was said:

We have entrusted Christopher Turner to God's mercy,
and we now commit his mortal remains to the ground:
earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust:
in sure and certain hope of the resurrection to eternal life
through our Lord Jesus Christ,
who will transform our frail bodies
that they may be conformed to his glorious body,
who died, was buried, and rose again for us.
To him be glory for ever.

It was then time to say goodbye to Simon's Mum as her coffin was lowered next to her loving husbands:

We have entrusted Helen Turner to God's mercy,
and we now commit her mortal remains to the ground:
earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust:
in sure and certain hope of the resurrection to eternal life
through our Lord Jesus Christ,
who will transform our frail bodies
that they may be conformed to his glorious body,
who died, was buried, and rose again for us.
To him be glory for ever.

Simon picked up a handful of dirt and threw it into the grave over his mother's casket. He then repeated the symbol over his fathers. Simon was doing his best to hold in the tears

When the burial service was over the vicar and the workers from the funeral parlour departed. Simon was alone with Kelly at the graveside.

"Good bye Mum and Dad," Simon uttered as silent tears streamed down his face. "I'll try to be a good child. I might not look like you expected me to, but I promise to never give up hope. I'll always remember how you brought me up and hope I live up to your expectations."

When he was finished, Kelly wrapped her arms around Simon and led him back to the awaiting car. As they moved off, the gravediggers, who had been watching in the distance, moved in to close up the grave.

"Your movement isn't as masculine as it was," stated Kelly, "and your voice is getting there. What I think you need is a day out of the house, where you can see what it's like being Charlotte in public."

Charlotte turned white. "Are you sure I'm ready?" she asked fearfully. "What if I forget and walk like a boy and what about my voice? I don't know if I can do it."

"You'll never know unless you try," patiently replied Kelly. "You've been here five days and you can't stay cooped inside for the rest of your life. Tina yesterday performed a full facial clearance and you have no facial hair visible. In a few days you might have a bit of re-growth which would make this trip difficult."

"How much longer will Tina need to work on my face?"

"It's difficult to tell, but Tina doesn't think it will take much longer. Since you'd only just started to get some facial hair, there wasn't much to remove and it isn't that strong. It just depends on growth rates and how long some hairs stay in hibernation."

"What about school? When do you think I'll be able to go back?"

"You're certainly not like most children," Kelly said with a laugh. "Most children would love to have time off."

"I get board if I'm not learning. Also I have my GCSE's next year. I don't want to fail due to this."

"Well if you keep improving at your current rate, then you might be back in school after half-term. Now, besides your nerves, is there any other reason not for us to venture out?"

"I think I'm coming down with something. I felt all strange in my legs since yesterday. A sort of ache is the only way I can describe it."

"Do you ache all over?" queried Kelly, her voice full of concern.

"Not really, mostly just my legs and tummy."

"Let me take your temperature," said Kelly as she reached for the first-aid box.

Kelly removed an ear-thermometer and added the required disposable cover. "Hold still," Kelly said sticking the end of the probe into Charlotte's ear. When the machine beeped, Kelly removed it and peered at the readout. "Your temperature is a little high but nothing to be concerned about. I have something which should help you during our outing."

Kelly took a box from the side and passed it to Charlotte. Silently Charlotte opened the box and removed two small breastforms.

"Are these for me?" Charlotte asked her eyes showing a slight panic.

"Of course they are for you. I don't need them, do I?"

"No, I suppose not. However, I don't have a bra on."

"So let's go upstairs and find you one. I'll also fix the forms onto your chest so you don't have any worries about them falling out."

"That would be embarrassing," Charlotte confirmed with a nervous laugh.

"Now I don't want you to glue them on yourself until you have been shown how to do it properly. You can wear them loose but only I will affix them. After I've done your breasts, I'll also try and comb your hair into a more feminine style. It is short but something might be possible."

"Okay," Charlotte replied, "Lets do it."

Charlotte started walking to her bedroom when, just before she reached the stairs, she came to a complete stop. She started to grab her tummy and bent slightly as she felt an awful cramp there. When she suddenly felt damp in her panties and felt sick, she dashed into the downstairs toilet groaning, slamming the door shut behind her. Kelly, who had been following looked on, wondering what had gone wrong now.

Suddenly a great yell of anguish came from the toilet.

"Are you okay?" panicked Kelly, through the closed door.

"NO!" came the anguished reply. "Can you ring Dr Millard or Dr Smith and tell them 'It's happened'".

"Tell them what's happened? What's going on? Are you okay? Let me in."

"No, you can't come in," Charlotte virtually shouted, her voice sounding in tears. "Please just ring Dr Millard. They will understand. Once they've been told, then I will need your help."

"What's going on?" demanded Kelly.

"Please just ring Charring Cross," pleaded Charlotte. "The sooner you ring them, the sooner you can help me."

"Okay," conceded Kelly, as she reached for the cordless phone and address book.

"Can I speak with Dr Millard?" asked Kelly when someone answered. "I'm Kelly Baxter and I'm ringing regarding a patient called Charlotte."

There was a pause for a few seconds and then Dr Millard came onto the phone. "Hello Ms Baxter, Tom Millard speaking. How can I help you?"

"I'm not sure," Kelly replied. "Charlotte asked me to ring you and say 'It's happened'".

"Where is she now?" asked the reassuring voice of Tom Millard.

"She's shut herself in the toilet and is in tears. Do you understand what she means, as she won't tell me anything else?"

"Yes, I understand. Dr Smith was due to visit tomorrow but I'm going to ask her to set off now to check Charlotte over. The meeting she was scheduled to attend will wait. Is that okay with you?"

"We were planning on going out. Can't this wait till tomorrow?"

"Not really and I don't think Charlotte will feel like going out. You'll understand when you've talked with her. Tell Charlotte to tell you everything."

"Okay Dr Millard. However, I don't appreciate being kept in the dark about things like this."

"I'm sorry, but my hands were tied," he apologised. "Dr Smith should be with you in about three hours."

Kelly hung up the phone and took a deep breath. She felt very frustrated that she had been treated like this and didn't want Charlotte to see her wound up. When she was calm she knocked on the toilet door and said, "I've spoken to Dr Millard. He understood your message and said Dr Smith would come to check you out. He also said you should tell me everything."

Charlotte unlocked the door, allowing Kelly to come in. "My period has just started and I need your help. There is so much blood that I think I'm going to bleed to death."

"Now you're not going to die. No problem, let me...YOUR PERIOD? How can you be having a period? That isn't possible."

Charlotte showed the blood on her panties and on the toilet paper. "Remember last week; the womb transplant?"

"You received your Mum's womb?"

"That's about the size of it," agreed Charlotte. "That is why I don't take oestrogen tablets. I don't have to, thanks to the transplant."

"Let me go and get you a clean pair of panties and a tampon. Then we can talk somewhere a bit more comfortable."

When Kelly returned she had all that was needed. "I've never had to teach a girl this before, so please forgive me. All my student have already hit puberty and can handle this themselves, though I always keep a large supply in stock. First of all, you need to clean yourself up as much as you can. The blood flows at intervals so you should be able to clean yourself."

Charlotte progressed to cleaning up. "This is quite messy," she commented as she cleaned up.

"You better get used to it as this will happen every month for quite a while. The next stage is to insert the tampon."

Ripping off the cover, Charlotte looked at the tampon. It looked like two cylinders slid together; one end had a rounded dome that was split, the other a hollow tube with a string coming out of it.

"Spread your legs slightly and push the rounded dome into your vagina until you almost lose the grip of the top tube, hold that tube and then push the bottom tube until you feel the tampon come out of the top tube. Pull the top tube out and it should leave the tampon in place, up your vagina."

"It's not going in," moaned Charlotte after an initial attempt.

"You need to be firmer than that. Now push it in till you feel it enter the cavity. That is it, then holding the outer tube with your fingers press the bottom tube with your other hand until it enters the upper tube completely. That is it; you have just placed the tampon in the right place. Remove both tubes, and the string should be left."

"What's the string for?" questioned Charlotte.

"That’s so you can pull it out when you need to change it. You must change it often otherwise you might get an infection. "

"How often? Every hour?"

"Not that often but it all depends on your flow. When you go to the toilet you might want to change it then. Between four to six hours is what is normally talked about. When you remove your tampon you mustn't flush it down the toilet. Wrap it in toilet paper and put it in the bin in the kitchen. When you are in places, such as shops, they might have special sanitary disposal bins. Your blood flow will be heaviest for the first few days and you might want to also use a panty liner. They have a sticky side so you can stick it to your panties. Oh, and you mustn't flush the panty liner either.

"I'll leave you to get yourself sorted. When you're done why don't you join me in the sitting room? It sounds like you've a lot to tell me."

Five minutes later Charlotte walked into the sitting room. She hadn't been the bubbliest person, having had to deal with her parent's death and subsequent funeral, let alone her own personal issues. Now there was a slight hardening of her personality. Her face, rather than being unsure or reflective had changed to a face of determination. She walked into the room in a feminine style, but still meant business. It appeared that the fact that she was having a period had stiffened her resolve and had given purpose back to her life.

Kelly patted the seat next to her and Charlotte came and set next to her. Waiting on the coffee table were two hot chocolates, its sweet aroma tempting both of them to savour the warm sweet taste.

"Mmm," came out of Charlotte's mouth as she sipped the silky chocolate.

"This is a little tradition that my Mum gave to me when I got my first period," explained Kelly. "Ever since then, I always have a hot chocolate when I start. It is something I've introduced to other students, but I've never had the honour of passing on the tradition to someone for the first time. I've now managed to pass the tradition on properly."

"If I ever have a girl, I'll be sure to pass it on," Charlotte promised.

"Oh my goodness!" exclaimed Kelly. "You will be able to have children."

"Yes, but they won't be biologically mine. They will be my half brother or sister."

Kelly fell silent for a bit, "Are you okay about that?"

"It's the closest that I can get to being a parent. The chance to become a father ended when I was impaled. This period has shown that there is a strong chance that I can have children, so I now feel I have a future. I always wanted to be a parent, so if the only way is to become a girl then so be it."

"What about being with a man, so you can have a baby? Would you like to have sex with a man?"

Charlotte nearly threw up when Kelly asked that. "No," she choked. "But that is something for the future. I have the possibility; if I use it, is something else."

"That’s very adult of you," commented Kelly as she sipped her hot chocolate. "Is that why you seem more assured?"

"Am I? I suppose having the period just gives me a bigger reason to succeed."

With the shopping experience abandoned, Kelly asked, "We have some time to spare while we wait for Dr Smith and this is your special day. So what would you like to do?"

"I don't feel like doing much," apologised Charlotte. "I feel so washed out. Can I just watch a film?"

"Sure, there is a wide selection on the shelf. Why don't you choose?"

Charlotte had never been given the opportunity to choose before and she went to look at the selection. To the top was a selection of educational videos, some of which she'd already had the 'privilege' of watching. The rest were a wide selection of films, ranging from weepies to a small selection of action films.

"You have action films?"

"Some girls like them too," laughed Kelly. "Don't forget I'm here to help you become the girl that you want. I'm not here to make a stereotype."

"I heard this one was a good laugh," said Charlotte reaching for a DVD. "Kirsty watched it a few times but I always avoided it. It's something I feel like I missed doing with her."

"You are volunteering to watch this one?" asked an incredulous Kelly. "You WANT to watch Miss Congeniality?"

"Kirsty liked it," Charlotte replied defensively. "Isn't it any good?"

"Oh the films fine," hurriedly reassured Kelly. "Why don't we watch it together and I'll prepare a salad while Dr Smith checks you out."

Kelly had only watched the film with girls that would rather poke there eyes out than watch it. So watching it with someone who willingly wanted to watch it was something of an eye opener.

At first Kelly worried how Charlotte would take the film. Would she see it as pressure to confirm as a girly, girl? Kelly's worries however, were unfounded as Charlotte sat back, and laughed all the way through.

"I've never seen Michael Caine so camp," she laughed at the end. "The way he walked down the street was something I thought I'd never see from someone who has starred in so many films."

"Obviously you've not seen enough Michael Caine. He played a gay man in 'Deathtrap' where he actually had to kiss Christopher Reeves on the lips."

"Oh, yuck!"

"If I remember correctly it wasn't the best onscreen kiss I've seen," confessed Kelly, her feet swept underneath herself. She was the most relaxed that Charlotte had seen her since they'd met at the hospital.

As the titles scrolled up the screen, neither of them wanted to move and spoil the lazy interlude. Unfortunately the doorbell had other ideas.

"Why don't you put the DVD away while I get the door," sighed Kelly.

"Okay," replied Charlotte, giving a small stretch. "and thank you. You have really helped me."

Charlotte leaned across and gave Kelly a hug. This was only the second time that Charlotte had unconsciously given a hug and it was the first time that on realising hadn't freaked out.

The doorbell ringing a second time, forced them back to reality and they broke their embrace. Charlotte had just put the DVD back on the shelf, when Kelly came in with Dr Barbara Smith.

"How are you feeling?" asked the doctor when she saw Charlotte.

"Lousy, but apparently that is only to be expected."

"Her flow was also heavier than I would have expected for a first period," injected Kelly.

"That's expected," replied Barbara. "The organ has been menstruating for twenty years so will not be as light as a normal first period."

"It's hard enough learning to be a girl, after so many years of being a boy," retorted Charlotte. "Now I find that the newly installed girl bits expect me to be used to it and operate at full pace."

"I know it's not easy, but think of what it gives you," reminded Kelly.

"I know and I am grateful that I can still be a parent."

"Why don't you go up to Charlotte's room and check her out there?" suggested Kelly. "I'll go and make lunch."

"Just sit on the bed for a moment. Have you felt faint or dizzy at all?" Dr Smith asked as she started to measure Charlotte's blood pressure.

"No, apart from slight aches and cramps I've been fine. I feel very under the weather and don't really feel like doing much."

"That’s only to be expected," replied Dr Smith. "I remember my first period and I screamed the house down. I'm sure yours was even worse. For me to see things properly, I need you to remove your tampon. I'll put a disposable sheet down so any leakage doesn't get on the bedding."

After twenty minutes Dr Smith was finished with all the tests. "Besides the pain from menstruating, have you had any other pains?"

"No."

"Well you appear to be healthy. There doesn't appear to be any organ rejection and you appear to be healing nicely. Give it a few more weeks and a local GP won't be able to tell that you weren't born that way. I can't give a full internal exam due to you menstruating. You should have finished by next week, so I'll do it then. You can go and put a new tampon in. Do you need any help?"

"I'll give it a go myself," replied Charlotte nervously. "I need to get used to this."

It took Charlotte ten minutes to get things in correctly, but she was proud of herself for succeeding. "It looks like Kelly taught you well and you have been doing well with learning."

"Will I be able to go back to school after half term?"

"There's nothing physically stopping you from attending. I would like to make sure you are fully passable first though. I don't want you to suffer from any prejudice. Not all people are accepting of transsexuals and I'm afraid that you might get lumped with that title."

"Even though this wasn't voluntary?"

"Yes. It just upsets some people and they become blind to the real person. The number of people I've seen for SRS that have been assaulted at some stage doesn't bear to think about."

With the examination finished they went down to find Kelly just putting the finishing touches to the meal. "Just in time," she said as they entered. "Take a seat and it will be with you shortly."

As they all tucked into the meal, Kelly asked, "How did the exam go?"

"Fine," replied Charlotte and filled Kelly in with the details. "One question I've just thought of though. Since my womb was my mothers, will that mean that I will go through an early menopause?"

"What causes women's ovaries to stop producing eggs is still unclear. Since the trigger is unknown it is difficult to tell what will occur with you. You might only be fertile for another ten years, or you might be fertile till your fifty. Sorry that I can't be clearer."

Charlotte just nodded in acknowledgement as she was deep in thought. Dr Smith was about to say something to jar Charlotte out of her trance but Kelly shook her head to indicate Charlotte should be left alone.

Eventually Charlotte rejoined the others at the table, her eyes glinting slightly, "I want to be a parent, but I don't know if I'll ever want to have sex with a man. The idea fills me with dread and I might not have as long as most people to get used to the idea."

Kelly opened her mouth to comfort Charlotte but Barbara beat her to it. "The transplant was to give you the opportunity, if you wanted to be a parent. It's there so that you have that choice. You have as much right as any person, to decide if you want to be a parent or not. Your sexuality is your own business so I'm not going to tell you to have sex with a man if you don't want. Just be yourself and all will be fine."

"Are you sure?" asked Charlotte, her voice breaking. "You and Dr Millard won't be upset?"

"Of course not," she replied looking at Charlotte like she'd totally lost the plot. "All we want is for you to be fit and healthy and for you to live your life to the fullest. Doctors are there to help people, not to tell them how to run there lives. Before the accident you had the choice to become a parent or not. All Dr Millard and I did was to restore that choice."

The relief was evident on Charlottes face as the tears started to tickle down her cheeks. There was no sobbing and no upset, just the cry of a thousand worries lifting off her young shoulders.

"Good speech," silently mouthed Kelly. Barbara Smith just smiled back, pleased to actually do something other than surgery. Helping others was her primary goal and too often she shut herself inside the operating theatre. Yes, it was delicate surgery which the patients needed but she always felt that something was missing. Dr Millard had often tried to encourage her to be more patient-orientated but every time she talked to someone, she used to get tongue tied and inadvertently said the wrong thing.

After the meal was finished, Barbara offered to help with the clearing up but Kelly wouldn't listen. It was Charlotte, however, that settled the matter. "Dr Smith, you are a guest. It would not be correct as a guest to allow you to wash-up. Since Kelly cooked the meal, I will be washing up."

"You've learnt more than you've let on," smiled Kelly. "You will be glad to know I washed up most of the cooking utensils as I went, so there isn't too much."

"I'd better set off," said Barbara looking at the stately grandfather clock. "I missed a lunchtime meeting and I'm sure that Dr Millard will want to update me."

"Thank you for your help," said Charlotte giving the doctor a small hug.

"Your welcome," replied the shocked doctor.

The ringing telephone interrupted the goodbyes. Kelly moved away from Charlotte and Barbara so she could take the call in private. "Kelly Baxter speaking."

"Hello Kelly, this is Quentin Hobson. Is Dr Barbara Smith still with you?"

"Good job you called now, as she was just about to leave. Was it you who intervened last week?"

"You should know better than to ask questions like that. Will you be free from your current project to help during August?"

"Yes, I should be. I normally keep August and September free anyway so that shouldn't be a problem. I'll get Barbara for you."

"It's for you," Kelly said handing the phone to Barbara. "I'd take it in the sitting room where things are quieter."

"Hello?" said Barbara when she had shut the door behind her.

"Ah, Dr Smith, Quentin Hobson speaking. I'm sorry that you were unable to attend the meeting earlier but I agree that patients must always come first There are certain things that I was able to discuss with Dr Millard and Dr Ruiz this morning that I need to cover with you. When you have finished could you please come and see me?"

"Of course," replied Barbara a bit flustered. "Where are you located?"

"Ah, Kelly will give you directions. It can be a bit awkward to find the first time you visit."

"Er, can I ask what you want to discuss?"

"Don't worry; there is nothing you need to prepare for. I'll see you in a few hours."

"Bye," vaguely said Barbara as she hung up the phone. She sat holding the phone in her hand for a few minutes, wondering what the meeting was about. To get Dr Millard reinstated and all talk about Simon/Charlotte removed from the press, Quentin must be quite powerful.

"Are you okay?" asked Kelly, making Barbara jump.

"How long have you worked with them?" Barbara eventually asked.

"A few years. What they do there might seem a bit dark and sinister to some people, but they do a lot of good. I've never known them do anything malicious."

"Quentin said you'd be able to provide directions?"

By the time that Barbara had been given directions, Charlotte had finished clearing up in the kitchen.

"I'll see you next week," promised Barbara to Charlotte. "You are doing very well."

Barbara climbed into her car and disappeared, watched by Charlotte and Kelly.

"Let's go in," said Kelly as the car disappeared. "We should plan how you want to go forward."

After Charlotte had taken care of her new needs, she joined Kelly in the sitting room. "How are you coping with your period?"

"It's not the most comfortable thing in the world and I'm sure it will be a great nuisance. Part of me is distressed about it; being born a man I should not be having periods. However, there is another part of me that is thrilled as it means I can be a parent, which I'm ashamed about."

"Ashamed?"

"I'm ashamed that I'm pleased. Being a parent means a lot to me. I'd much have preferred to be a father but now I can only bear my half brother or sister, but it is the best I can do."

"Do you have feelings with your shame? Do you want to cry, break a window or maybe hurt someone?"

"No," Charlotte replied sounding shocked. "Of course not. I suppose I'm more embarrassed. I get a sort of feeling in my stomach. Sometime I think about it when I go to bed and might wonder why, but that is about it."

"Is it embarrassing, being a girl?"

"I don't know. I haven't been anywhere, so I don't know if I will be. You and the doctors know that I didn't do this voluntarily so there isn't the same worry."

"Do you think transsexuals that decide to have a sex-change should be embarrassed or ashamed?"

"No, of course not. I have some of that conflict now, I have the heart and soul of a man and I'm in a body that will slowly feminize. I've already had a period which no transsexual ever will. I met a wonderful transsexual in the hospital called Dr Sue. She has coped with so much to get to be the person inside."

"Would you like to live as a man again?"

Charlotte thought for a moment. "Yes and no. I'd love to go back to the situation I was in before the accident but I know that will never happen. My desire to be a parent currently overrides my need to me a man. I don't know if that will last but I'm willing to try."

"Would you be willing to try and go out as a girl tomorrow?"

"I suppose so," Charlotte reluctantly agreed. "I'm scared about it but unless I do it, I'll never get over the fear."

"Tomorrow, after breakfast, we will go into Gloucester and we can look at the docks and a few shops."

"What have I got myself into," thought Charlotte to herself as she contemplated what the following day might bring.