Managing a wheelchair with only one hand is not easy and after nearly colliding with a wall and narrowly avoiding running over several people's feet, a nurse came to my rescue, and after scolding me severely, wheeled me back to my room.

The next morning I couldn't wait to see my Mum, sisters and Tom. I felt like I was starting a new life again and just had a few odds and ends to clear up from the old one. After hugs all round and a final clearance from the doctors, I was wheeled out to where Bessie had parked her car. I had explained about the apartment and how I was leaving it immediately and everyone agreed to drive me there and help me pack. It was fortunate that Bessie had brought her husband's seven-seater SUV, as there should be enough room to pack in all my belongings as well as the five of us. We stopped off on the way to Sandgate to buy enough packing boxes (I hoped) to take all my things, and arrived at the apartment quite early. I was glad to see that a car was parked in Michael and James' spot, so someone was home.

I led everyone up the stairs to the apartment, and after they had admired the sea view, they set to work packing. I felt a bit awkward about Tom seeing the bedroom, so I suggested that he could pack some of the items in the rest of the apartment, while Mum and my sisters starting packing my clothes. Greg always left a change of clothes plus some toiletries in the bathroom, so those would be staying. Everything else was mine apart from the furniture, but basically it consisted of my clothes and some personal items like ornaments and a few paintings and prints.

“I'm just going downstairs to see the boys about looking after the keys,” I said, picking up one item from the small table.

I walked down the stairs and knocked on the door. Michael answered it and I was glad it was him. I like them both, but I had a special affinity for Michael. His welcoming smile changed to a look of concern when he saw my arm in a sling.

“Why Mandy, whatever happened? We wondered where you were when you didn't return Sunday evening,” he said.

“I was in a car accident with Greg who owns the apartment,” I replied. “I have a broken arm and some bruising but he is more badly injured and still in hospital. He'll be alright though.”

“Oh you poor thing, please come in,” said Michael.

“There's something I have to tell you. Greg is married and now of course his wife knows about us, so it's best that I leave the apartment immediately. My mother, sisters and Tom are upstairs packing.”

“Tom?” said Michael with a smile. “Am I to believe that he's 'The One'?”

I smiled “Yes he is, and it was my accident that brought us back together, so every cloud has a silver lining.”

“I knew it!” Michael said. “There's always been a bit of an air of sadness about you, but it's gone now. You're positive glowing.”

I glowed some more as I started to blush, but he was right — I felt happier than I had for many years.

“What I came down to ask you was would you look after the keys of the apartment until Greg comes to collect them?”

“Of course.” said Michael “One or other of us is usually home or he can leave a note and we'll arrange a time to hand them over.”

“Michael, you and James have been such great friends and I may not see you again for some time, so I brought this down as something to remember me by.”

I held out a small wooden, brightly polished and beautifully crafted with inlays of different woods.

“Your music box?” Michael seemed incredulous, “But that's one or your treasures.”

I smiled “Yes it is, but that shows the high esteem in which I hold you both.”

Michael lifted the lid and the little ballerina began to twirl as 'Lara's theme' from 'Doctor Zhivago' tinkled out. For a second I almost regretted giving it away, but I knew they would care for it.

“It's not too 'girly' I hope?”

“Not at all,” he replied, “We will find a special place of honour to display it and it will help us remember you until we meet again.”

I was about to leave, but then stopped.

“Michael, there's something I never told you before, but friends shouldn't have secrets from each other. When I was born, I was called Michael too.”

“Really?” his eyebrows shot up.

“That's why I came to Brisbane. My gender specialist practises here. I've been through the whole transition, including going to Thailand for surgery.”

“Wow. That is so brave,” said Michael.

“Not really. It was something I had to do. Right from when I was very young, I knew I was not going to grow up as a man.”

He smiled “You know, there is only one thing that might have made me guess, and that's that you are more feminine than almost any other woman I know. You always wear make-up and have your hair styled nicely, and you almost always wear a dress or a skirt.”

“Well, when someone like me has to work so hard to be a woman, I suppose we want to make the most of all that being female has to offer.”

“Thank you for sharing that with me,” he said, “it makes you even more special in my eyes. May I tell James?”

“Of course,” I replied. “You're both very special friends and I do hope we meet again.”

His eyes were glistening as we hugged, and so were mine.

To break the mood he said “I've just been baking, you can probably tell from the smell. When you've finished packing, why don't you all come down to have some tea with me?”

When I arrived back in the apartment it was to some comments like “Here comes Her Ladyship! It's alright, we've done most of the work.”

“I'm sorry everyone, but I had to go downstairs to see my friend Michael and arrange about the apartment keys.”

“Michael eh?” said Tom in mock alarm “Should I be worried?”

“Yes you should!” I replied, “Gay guys are always a girl's best friend.”

“By the way, is that your car in the other parking bay?” asked Bessie.

“Oh Lord! Yes it is. That complicates things.” I replied.

“Not really,” she said, “Three out of the five of us can drive at present, so I suggest two of us go in the Mini, and three in the wagon. After two hours we can switch around so everyone gets a break and only drives four out of six hours. It also means we have more room to stash all your stuff.”

After all the boxes and my suitcase were loaded into the cars, I took one final look around to make sure nothing was left behind, and we all trooped down to the ground level apartment where Michael greeted us warmly. He always knew how to play the perfect host, and we were treated to tea in the best china, and some delicious cup cakes.

“I'm sorry James isn't here to meet you,” he said, “but he's on a late flight and won't be back until nine o'clock.”

“Michael and James are both airline stewards but for different companies,” I explained. “I'm sure we'll be down this way again, Michael, and we'll definitely call by and see you both.”

With that we made our farewells and walked to the cars. I went in the Mini with Kate driving and me as Navigator. Knowing Brisbane better than the others, I could show them the best way to the main highway heading north. After stops for driver change-overs and a meal, it was evening when we finally arrived at Rockhampton and pulled up outside Mum's house. I had been thinking of sleeping arrangements, but had said nothing. Ideally I wanted to sleep with Tom of course. Now we were together again I didn't want us to be separated.

It was Tom's mother who provided the solution. Mum had rung her to let her know we were home, and when she arrived at our house and greeted us warmly, she made a suggestion.

“I wonder if you two would like to sleep at my house? I have a double bed in my room and a single in the spare bedroom, and I'd be more than happy to let you have the double bed.”

I felt myself blushing slightly (it's been a lifelong embarrassment that I blush so easily, but it would be worse if I was a man).

Tom said “Thanks Mum, that would be great.”

After sorting out some clothes, and saying goodnight to Mum and my sisters and thanking them for all their help, Bessie drove us down to Tom's mum's house.

That night I discovered something new and wonderful. As far as sex goes, I was experienced of course, some might say too experienced, but now at last I was in bed with the man I loved. I don't think Tom expected that with us both to a degree incapacitated, we would do anything more than literally sleep together, but I was not ready to give up, and when after a careful cuddle, I discovered that it wasn't just his legs that were working again, how could I not help to see what I could do to encourage him even further? He was not yet mobile enough to take a dominant position, but that was alright. With great care, using my sole available arm, I managed to straddle his body, and then with a sigh which changed to a deep groan of satisfaction I lowered myself onto his manhood.

That was when my discovery began — making love to the man I loved was like nothing I had ever experienced before. We had to take care of course, but perhaps that was even an advantage as we slowly built each other up to the heights of ecstasy, and when finally the great wave of pleasure broke over us and carried us along with its power, I finally realised what I had been missing all those years.

“Oh Tom! My Tom,” I gasped “I adore you. I never want to be parted from you again.”

Only then did we sleep together, 'like babies' as the saying goes.

The next morning Mrs Shore greeted us at the breakfast table by saying “I hope the bed was comfortable enough for you?”

“Oh yes! Very comfortable indeed,” I replied, knowing I was blushing, but not really caring.

Much though we didn't want to be physically parted, Tom had only managed to wangle three days off, so the next day I reluctantly bade him a temporary farewell, managing to hold back my tears until he was on the train and out of sight. I realised I had to be sensible and it wouldn't be fair to him to have to act as nurse as well as do his job, whereas I could stay at home with Mum until my arm was healed enough, and then drive down in the Mini.

I must admit I was a bit concerned how I would manage financially after sending in my resignation to BTB. I knew that I had some money owing from accrued annual leave, but that would not keep me going for long. However I was pleasantly surprised when a very generous cheque arrived which the partners said was a bonus for all my good work over the years. It was accompanied by a glowing reference and an offer to provide a verbal reference when I had recovered sufficiently to apply for another job. I feel ashamed to say this, but it did cross my mind that there might have been a hidden agenda present. After all they didn't want me revealing Greg's affair to a wider audience. Perhaps I was wrong to think this for it had never entered my head to do so. I was grateful to BTB for all they had done for me, and I would always be fond of Greg, how could I not be?

After three weeks my cast was removed and I was given physiotherapy exercises. I was phoning Tom every day and he came up twice to see me, but I was desperate to go to Sydney and live with him. He lived in Pennant Hills, an outer western suburb, close to his company's headquarters, which was convenient especially when he was using a wheelchair taxi to get there. Finally, and more than a little reluctantly, my doctor agreed that I could go to Sydney, but said that driving my car all that way was out of the question. I didn't argue. Perhaps with increasing age I was getting more sensible!

Kate came to my rescue. She liked Sydney and said she would drive me down there in exchange for a couple of nights accommodation while she toured the shops. That was most agreeable. I could go shopping with her too!

Tom's one-bedroom unit was a reasonable size with a lounge/kitchen, bedroom, bathroom, toilet and a tiny laundry. On seeing it for the first time, I couldn't help thinking that for a male living on his own, it was remarkably tidy, although I suspected he had made an extra effort in anticipation or my arrival. He had a double bed which he explained in a slightly embarrassed manner was because he liked to 'stretch out'. I didn't follow it up with any questions. If indeed he had shared it with anyone else that was none of my business and certainly not something I could hold against him in view of my past.

Tom offered to sleep on the couch while Kate and I shared the bed, but Kate wouldn't hear of it and insisted the large couch was fine by her. She stayed three days and we had a great time touring the stores in town. It's true that in those days Sydney, and probably Melbourne were the fashion capitals of Australia, while Brisbane was still something of a 'country town' and the clothing available was not quite up to the latest fashions. I was careful with my money and did not go mad in the shops. I hoped to get another job in the legal area, but that would have to wait until my arm was totally healed which might take a few months.

In due course, particularly with the glowing reference from BTB I was able to find an excellent job in the city, and together with Tom's income we were very comfortably off indeed. By now I had changed my name by deed poll to become Mandy Shore. The lawmakers of Australia might not allow Tom and I to marry, but I could at least take his name. Tom continued to heal and eventually walked with a stick and sometimes even for short distances without one. We were very happy together.

You may well think this is the point at which I would have written “And they lived happily ever after” and it's true that we have, but there is one more incident that I must relate and this came about purely by chance.

It was some years later, and I was forty-six. Where do the years go? Tom's company had started a branch in Brisbane and appointed him in charge, so we had moved back there, and this time bought ourselves a house. I had found another job in a legal firm, and this time we were both working within fifteen minutes of home, which was much more convenient. I was in the waiting room at the doctor's for a regular checkup and happened to be glancing through the 'Weekly Times', the main rural newspaper which covered all Australia, when an article and picture stopped me in my tracks.

The article title was “Passing of a Rural Giant” and it went on to describe the death of John Brodie who ran a cattle station in south-west Queensland near the little town of Heywood's Crossing. It was the accompanying picture that really caught my attention. It was of John and his wife Lesley and the moment I saw her I recognised her as the woman who had been so kind to me in Dr Brentwell's waiting room all those years ago. She looked older of course, perhaps in her mid fifties by now, but I knew I was not mistaken. John Brodie's funeral was in three days time and I just knew I had to go and pay my respects. It was the least I could do to repay that moment of kindness I had never forgotten.

When Tom came home I told him about my discovery. He knew about that moment at Dr Brentwell's rooms of course, but now I had a name for the woman who helped me. I told him that I wanted to go to the funeral and pay my respects and he was a little doubtful.

“I don't suppose anyone out there knows her background. You don't think she'll be worried you intend to expose her do you?”

The thought had never entered my head, and I brushed it aside.

“Of course I'd never do that,” I protested.

“Well alright, but I'm really busy at work right now. Do you mind driving out there yourself? It's quite a way.”

By now we had one car, a Toyota Land Cruiser which we used to pull a small caravan when we went away on touring holidays. It was sturdy and reliable, and I had no worries about making the trip. I hurriedly packed a black dress and heels, plus a couple of changes of casual clothing, and set out early the next morning. Fortunately I had two clear days to get there according to the newspaper. It sounded like there would be a big attendance so I phoned the hotel at Heywood's Crossing and was lucky to secure the last room they had, otherwise I might have had to tow the caravan and I didn't really want to do that.

I've always enjoyed driving out in the country, and I arrived at Heywood's Crossing the night before the funeral. The hotel was packed, and it was obvious that this was going to be a big occasion. I didn't even know if I would get a chance to speak to Lesley Brodie, I might just have to write her a note later.

The small local church was packed to overflowing, and I was one of those who had to sit out in the blazing sun. Fortunately a kind woman sitting beside me gave me some shade with her umbrella.

“Do you know the Brodies well?” she enquired.

“Not that well,” I replied “but Lesley did me a great kindness once and I had to come and pay my respects.”

“That would be Lesley,” she replied,”I knew John's first wife too and never thought he would find another wife to match her, but Lesley has and more.”

I smiled and hoped I would not get a grilling about the 'kindness' from Lesley, but fortunately the service started then and we had to stop talking. It was a nice service, and I learned quite a bit about John and the contributions he had made to the local countryside. Then Lesley spoke, and I could hear the pain in her voice, but also the strength, and when she read that lovely poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning

“How do I love thee? Let me count the ways,”

I don't think there was a dry eye anywhere in the congregation, mine certainly weren't.

After the service was over, we were invited as tradition demands, to take refreshments in the church hall while the chief mourners went up to the graveyard to lay John Brodie to rest. I did not expect to see anyone I knew so it was quite a surprise when I suddenly realised that a man standing close to me was Dr Brentwell, so I introduced myself.

“Why Mandy! It's been a long time,” he said “but you're looking very well.”

“Thank you,” I replied. He looked well too, although he had to be in his mid seventies by now.

“So what are you doing here?” he enquired.

“I came to pay my respects when I found out quite by chance who the kind person was who encouraged me the first day I came to see you.”

“Oh yes, I remember now,” he replied “and of course there was...” He suddenly stopped as if realising he had said something he shouldn't have mentioned. I stared at him, the realisation hitting me like a thunderbolt.

“It was she and her husband who provided the money for my surgery when I lost it all wasn't it?” I blurted out.

Dr Brentwell looked very uncomfortable, so I let him off the hook.

“It's alright, you don't have to answer that — your face says it all.”

“They are very good people,” he said. “They've helped many people financially.”

“That makes me even happier that I came,” I said. “And don't worry, if I see her I won't mention what you said.”

In fact I did see Lesley Brodie later when she returned from the cemetery. She was standing in the middle of the crowd consuming their sandwiches and drinks, but for all that she seemed terribly alone, and no-one was talking to her at that moment, so I walked up to her and said “Please accept my condolences, Mrs Brodie.”

She looked at me in a puzzled sort of way and I continued “You don't remember me do you?”

“I'm sorry,” she replied.

“My name is Mandy Shore, it used to be Mandy Collins, and you only ever met me once, in a doctor's waiting room — a doctor who had a particular speciality. We have something in common, Mrs Brodie.”

She suddenly looked shocked and I could see she did remember me after all. There was something more in her eyes too, perhaps it was fear?

Just then someone came up to talk to her and she hurriedly said “I'm sorry we can't talk further today, but do get in touch. You know where I live.”

“Yes Mrs Brodie, I'll certainly do that, and once again, I am truly sorry for your loss,” I said and then as she was led away, I turned and walked back to my car.

The thought had suddenly occurred to me that maybe she thought I was going to threaten to expose her past. Perhaps Tom was right and I shouldn't have gone to the funeral.

I had intended to stay another night in Heywood's Crossing, but now I changed my mind and decided to head back home. Perhaps Lesley Brodie's loss had made me realise how much I appreciated having Tom, and I didn't want to spend any more time away from him. I did check where she lived and the telephone number before I left as I thought a phone call in a few days time might reassure her my intentions were not bad.

I took off my black dress and put on jeans, a check shirt and boots, much more suitable for bush travel. Then I checked out and loaded my bag into the Land Cruiser and headed east. The sun was starting to set and perhaps I should have waited until morning, but I was anxious to get home. The highway was generally quiet but as night fell a number of giant road trains approached and passed me with a thundering roar, shaking the Land Cruiser which is not a small vehicle. It was a little scary to say the least. I carried on, and some time later a mob of kangaroos bounded over the highway in front of me. I jammed on the brakes and the tail of the last one just caught the bull-bar as he leaped clear. That was enough for me.

'You didn't come all this way to get yourself killed,' I chided myself.

I drove slowly into the next small town which fortunately had a truck stop, where I parked among the big rigs, pushed my seat back and settled down to sleep.

I awoke at dawn, cold and cramped, got out of the wagon and stretched my legs. The cafe never closed so after a visit to the 'ladies' where I did my best to look human again, I tucked into a 'big breakfast' of bacon, eggs, sausage, and fried bread, plus a big mug of coffee, studiously avoiding the curious stares of the truckies. Thus fortified I took to the road again, and this time I stopped and checked into a motel before it got dark. I reached home without incident the following day. Tom had gone to work, as he wasn't expecting me until that evening, so I phoned him to let him know I was back, and then, feeling quite exhausted, went to bed.

When Tom came home that evening I clung to him as though I was scared to let him go.

“Darling, you've only been away five days,” he said gently.

“Well they were five long days and going to that funeral made me realise how precious our time is together.”

“So you spoke to Lesley Brodie then.”

“Yes I did, and Tom I think you might be right — you usually are. She may have thought I intended to expose her. She was polite though, and asked me to get in touch.”

“Well in that case I think you should, if only to reassure her.”

I waited three days. I didn't really know when the right time to ring might be, but perhaps this was a good a time as any.

“Lesley Brodie speaking,” her voice still sounded slightly strained. Had I miss-timed my call? It was too late now.

“It's Mandy Shore Mrs Brodie. Please tell me, are you still on a shared line or is it alright to talk freely?”

“Oh yes,” she replied, “we have an automatic exchange now, no-one listens in.”

“Mrs Brodie, I'm sorry if I alarmed you when I met you the other day. Please be assured that I have no intention of revealing your past, any more than I would want mine revealed. I came to pay my respects because of your kindness to me that day at Dr Brentwell's rooms when I was on the point of running out.”

“That's so long ago,” she replied, “I'm surprised you remember.”

“There are moments in a person's life they never forget,” I replied, “But during my trip out there, I discovered that I have something more to thank you for. I ran into Dr Brentwell and wondered why he was present. Then it occurred to me that it had to be something more than the fact he was your specialist all those years ago. I suddenly realised that you and Mr Brodie supplied the funds that enabled me to have my surgery after I lost all my money. Dr Brentwell didn't betray your confidence, he didn't have to. Just the look on his face when I blurted out my discovery was enough. What I wanted to say was 'thank you again' as you probably saved my life. I don't know if I could have faced starting over again to save the money for my surgery.”

“We didn't give you the money Mandy, it was a loan and you repaid all of it,” she replied.

“It was the least I could do, but you didn't know that when you loaned it to me.”

She laughed softly “Well, let's just say that Dr Brentwell had faith in you, and that was good enough for us.” Then she changed the subject. “Are you back home now?”

“Yes, in Brisbane.”

“Ah Brisbane, I know it well. I've flown down there many times.”

“Are you a pilot?” I asked.

“Oh yes, in the country you have to do many things, but I've always loved flying.”

I felt that perhaps she was being polite, making conversation with me, a comparative stranger, so I said “Well, I must not take up too much of your time, Mrs Brodie, but it's been nice talking to you and especially making sure there wasn't any misunderstanding.”

“Please call me Lesley. It's been nice talking to you too Mandy. Did you say your name is Shore now?”

“Yes Tom is my partner. He's a lovely man. As far as the world is concerned we are husband and wife.” It suddenly occurred to me that maybe I was rubbing salt into an open wound.

“It was the same with me and John,” she replied softly and I could hear the sadness in her voice. “Cherish your Tom, Mandy, life is so short.”

“I will,” I replied and then again “I'm so sorry.”

“I'm alright, really. I have good friends here, and a new one in Brisbane now. If you ever find your way out here again, you must come and visit, even stay. There's plenty of room.”

“Thank you, I should like that,” I said. "The next time you are in Brisbane, please let us know. I'm sure Tom would really like to meet you too."

Then it really was time to say our goodbyes.

When Tom came home I told him about my conversation with Lesley Brodie.

“Well I'm glad that was sorted out,” he said.

And now perhaps it really is time to say “And they lived happily ever after.”

Who knows what the future will bring, but loving and being loved by the most wonderful man in the world, I'm sure I can face it with confidence.

THE END