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Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 100

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Fiction

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

This is the big one, does she tell him? You'll have to read it to find out! An extra long episode to mark the ton!

Easy As Falling Off A Bike
by Bonzi's Mum.
part 100.0000000000000000000000000000000000000

Although my body was increasingly feminine and curvy, and my dangly bits esconced in my body with glue, I was shy of Simon seeing me. So I undressed in the bathroom and after donning the sexiest nightdress I had, a pink thing with lace around the edges and shoelace straps, went back into the bedroom. The lighting was low, deliberately. I didn't want him spotting any signs of my former self that I'd somehow not hidden sufficiently. It was also more romantic.

Sometimes I wondered what I was up to, setting myself up for a fall by creating an atmosphere of seduction and then failing to deliver. Actually I so wanted to make love to Simon, that I'd have given almost anything to have been able to do it. I had this longing in my loins for him, but I knew that it may all be a delusion, even after surgery, I might not feel anything much at all. However, that wouldn't stop me yearning for it. I can't ever have babies, but it won't stop me wanting them.

I'd mysteriously left the bottle of Opium in the bathroom and some got squirted on me when I was changing, so Simon was happy with what he could see and what he could smell.

"Hmm," he said, "you look nice," and he smiled warmly at me. He'd got into bed in a tee shirt and his underpants. I was dreading that he might wear his Harry Potter PJs as he had threatened.

I got into bed alongside him and allowed him to put his arm around me and kiss me. I know it was asking for trouble, but I had every confidence in Simon keeping to his word.

"You will never know how hard this is," he said and I fell about laughing at the double entendre. "What are you laughing at? Oh, well that as well," he sniggered and we were soon helpless with laughter.

"One day, I hope you'll think it was all worth the wait." I kissed him and pushed him gently onto his back running my hands over his chest hair and down towards his waist. It made his tummy muscles jump and after I'd done it a few times he moved my hand back up his body.

"I think so, or is this part of this dreadful secret you have, which dominates your life. I know, you're already married to an Arab prince who is likely to come charging up the stairs on his white stallion to collect you and take you back to his harem."

"Oh yeah," I rolled my eyes heavenwards and shook my head, "it's not an Arab, it's a white Russian and his band of cossacks."

"Oh," he said thoughtfully, "not Ivan Hood and his merry men?"

"No it's Ivan Edake, otherwise known as the Avoider."

I watched him process what I'd just said, then he smiled followed by a chuckle, "I've an headache, ha ha, yes very good. You should do stand up."

"I'd much rather lie down sometimes, if the company is suitable." I purred at him and snuggled up against him. This was how I imagined a proper relationship, just cuddling and snuggling much of the time rather than going at it like bunnies on viagra.

"But you don't know where I've been," said Simon.

"Well your tee shirt says 'Isle of Wight', so I can make a reasonable guess."

"My underpants say made in China, but I haven't been there at all."

"Now you're making it difficult," I grumbled, "remember I'm just a simple girl who best friends are dormice."

"Yes, that isn't what the secret is about is it, a dormouse fetish?"

"There are probably worse ones."

"That is undoubtedly true," he said nodding his head, "so are you ever going to tell me, what this awful secret is?"

"I'd like to tell you some time," I blushed, "but I feel it would spoil the moment, and this is special to me. I have waited all week to feel you hold me."

He knew I was stalling, my confidence evaporating under my need to be physically with him. I wanted to savour this for a long time, because it might be the one and only time it happened. Once he knew, he'd drop me faster than a hot coal.

"Okay, we have a whole weekend to talk." He wrapped his arms around me and I spooned into him feeling how 'hard it was for him' against my back.

"Don't you have some secrets too?" I said as he gently rubbed my breasts with his thumbs, it was so erotic I could have jumped him there and then.

"Who me, nah, except trade ones of course."

"Stella seemed to think you hadn't told me a few things." I hinted and then felt rather stupid.

"Stella has mouth bigger than her brain by a factor of ten." His tone was cold rather than angry.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything, but I thought you had discussed it."

"Just what did she say to you?"

"Nothing, it was a hint an inference I made. I obviously got it wrong."

"Maybe," he mumbled quietly and held me tight. I could feel him smelling the back of my neck. "Mmmmmmmm, you smell nice," he said kissing me on the nape of my neck.

"That's nice, v-e-r-y n-i-c-e," I purred. I shuddered almost to an orgasm but my body held me in that not quite there yet mode, and I drifted into a world of pure sensuality. I reached back and rubbed gently a hard object that had been in danger of impaling my spine and I heard his breathing deepen. Then he started groaning gently.

"Oh, does that hurt?" I asked with feigned innocence.

"Only when you stop," he added breathing very heavily.

"I'd better not then," I offered mischievously and continued.

"I hope you have some tissues handy, then." He grunted, "Because you are gonna need them NOW! Oh God."

I grabbed them with my other hand and passed them behind me. I was still glowing and happy to bathe in this feeling for a while longer. I could hear and feel the bed moving as he made himself more comfortable, but I was almost asleep in my happiness, safe and secure and for the moment loved.

I woke up in the night, aware of the warmth of the body next to me and the arm draped casually over me in ownership? I was happy to be his property in one sense, although I had this sense on impending catastrophe, which would hardly make me seem to have psychic powers or forecasting the future.

I lay wondering what Stella had meant about him, because he almost denied having any secrets. The law of Common Sense, suggested that as we didn't know each other that well, we'd both have secrets from the other. Some would be deliberate others would be just a matter of time before they revealed themselves. Assuming that we stayed together long enough to see them. I thought that unlikely and decided I would enjoy the night and tell him tomorrow as soon as I could pluck up the courage.

I snuggled and dozed all night, not really sleeping properly, more shallow cat naps. I was therefore still dozy when he woke up the next morning and after slipping out to the loo grabbed me and began kissing me. I tried to push him off and it became a sort of pillow fight come wrestling match. Then I had to run to the loo, and jumped on him when I came back and the rough house started again. He was so strong compared to me, probably weighing half as much again and making me feel very feeble by comparison.

"So what's this dreadful secret? You don't like sex do you?"

"I don't know, it's more that I can't have sex."

"What, you can't have sex? Why not, don't you have a fanny?"

He accidentally hit the nail on the head first go. I burst into tears and turned away from him.

"Hey, c'mon, don't cry. Let's talk this through." He held me as I continued to sob.

"I have something terrible to say." I managed to stop crying for a moment and this sense of calm seemed to come over me. I'd heard that just before execution, some people resign themselves to the inevitable and become at peace with the world. I was approaching that place.

"Well don't say it." He held me tighter. "If it's going to stop me loving you, don't say it. I don't want to hear it."

"It won't stop me loving you," I said," because I think I shall always do that, but it may affect the way you feel about me."

"Well don't tell me, I don't want to hear it."

"I have to," I said, "I can't keep this to myself any longer."

"No," he said and I felt him get off the bed and go out of the room.

He knows, I thought to myself, he bloody well knows. I lay there sobbing to myself feeling my sense of peace had gone as well as my chance of happiness. I knew he would come back and get his stuff and leave, so what was the point of getting up. If I was going to die of a broken heart, I might just as well stay in bed.

I must have fallen asleep because I woke up. I was alone and I assumed Simon had gone. I needed to wee, so I got up and walked to the bathroom. I could hear the radio or telly downstairs, so after doing the necessary I slipped on my matching pink and lace dressing gown and went downstairs.

He was stood with his back to me staring down the garden. I walked up behind him and said, "I'm sorry."

He flinched and stepped away from me. I knew then for sure that he knew.

"I didn't mean to deceive you. Stella encouraged me and it developed a momentum of its own." I felt tears running down my face, yet I wasn't sobbing, just bereft. I couldn't feel anything, except a gaping void where my heart used to be. The tears continued to flood down my face.

"I hope you enjoyed your little joke." His voice was cold and distant.

"It wasn't a joke to me Simon, I did fall in love with you. I'm still in love with you and I'm so sorry. I did try not to get into a relationship, but it was you who kept pushing me for one."

"Yeah, that's right blame me for it all. It's always my fault, every bloody woman I've dated has done that to me. Even you, a sort of pseudo-woman."

"It isn't my fault that I don't have the body I've always wanted, or that this one isn't as perfect as I'd like it to be, for you. Nothing would give me greater pleasure than allowing you to make love to me, but I can't. I tried to tell you the other day, but you wouldn't let me. I am so sorry."

That was it, the dam broke and I ran upstairs and threw myself on the bed and cried myself silly. Once again, I fell into an exhausted sleep. I awoke when I heard the door close.

"I've brought you a cup of tea, I guessed you could do with one."

"Thank you, I thought you'd have left me ages ago."

"Yeah, well, so did I." He sat on the edge of the bed. I sat up and sipped the tea.

"Tell me," he asked, "are you intending to become a woman, I mean a full one?"

"You mean am I transsexual and planning on having a sex change operation?"

"Not quite, I mean what I can see of you is a lovely young woman, so are you going to get a you know...?"

"A vaginoplasty etcetera."

"Whatever they call it, yes."

"Yes, as soon as I can, but that could be a year away yet." He seemed to have got over his shock and I explained how Stella had discovered my secret and encouraged me to play along.

"I shall kill my sister, stupid bitch."

"Please don't, she meant well and she didn't control what happened between us."

"No I suppose not."

"Anyway, I didn't mean to deceive you, I wouldn't hurt you for all the world." I began to tear up again and this time he put his arm around me.

"It's going to take me some time to deal with this, and I can't guarantee that I will in the way I'd like to. But I'd like to stay friends and see what happens."

"I'd like that too," I was clinging onto any straw he offered me.

"I'd like to meet your father."

"But he's uncon..., well yesterday he was in a sort of coma."

"I'd still like to see him."

"If you want, but it's not a pretty sight."

"Come one, get yourself sorted and we'll go and see him."

"I wasn't lying about him you know."

"I know, come on get dressed."

I showered and dressed in a denim skirt and jacket with a light blue silky vest top. I kept my makeup to a minimum and put on my boots. He ushered me out to his car and with me directing him we went to Southmead. We parked up and I after buying the car park ticket, I led him along to the ward my father was on.

"Oh hi Cathy," said the ward sister, "I was hoping you'd call so we could share the good news."

"Why what has happened?" I was completely puzzled.

"His eyes are open, he's pretty well awake and he's looking for you."

"Oh my goodness, can I see him?"

"Yeah, course you can. Who's this?"

"Oh this is a friend of mine, Simon."

"Hello Simon," she said earthily.

"Sorry, I'm spoken for," he replied which confused me even more.

I puzzled as I walked towards my father's cubicle, the curtains were around him still and I poked my head between them before stepping through. "Hi Daddy," I said quietly and his head turned slowly towards me he beamed a huge smile at me and I stepped through and kissed him on the cheek.

" 'Aaa- feee," he struggled to say and I began to cry again, this time with a sense of joy. He might just get over this.

It was a few moments before I even remembered Simon was there I was so rapt with my dad. I heard him cough politely behind me. "Oh gosh, Daddy, this is a friend of mine, Simon."

Simon stepped through and squeezed my dad's hand, "Pleased to meet you Mr Watts, Cathy has told me lots about you." I was desperately trying to think what I had told him. I felt sure it was all bad stuff and I shuddered at the thought of what he might say.

If he started on at my dad for being a pig to me earlier, it could set him off on another stroke, as could suddenly saying, he was my boyfriend, although he wasn't at the moment, if I'd understood what he'd been saying to me. But then I was so mixed up, he could have said anything and I'd have confused it.

"I haven't made any bread today, but I shall bring you some in tomorrow and some soup, if you'd like?"

He indicated he did, so I glanced at Simon for his agreement. "I'll make sure she does, don't you worry," then he winked at my dad, who smiled back. There was some unwritten language going on here, man-talk and I wasn't quite sure what they were saying, although I could have made a guess at it. We stayed for about another half an hour and seeing he was tiring we left, I kissed him on the cheek as we went and he smiled before nodding off to sleep.

Nothing was said until we got back into the car. "He seems to have accepted his daughter very easily, doesn't he?"

"I didn't give him a choice and his dependency means he hasn't the strength to reject me. He might also feel it easier to blackmail a daughter into looking after him."

"I hadn't thought of that." He paused as if in deep thought.

"I didn't think I would take to him given how he treated you before, but it's difficult to kick a man when he's down."

"I'm glad you didn't, although it would have surprised me if you had."

"Why?"

"Because you're a gentle man, a nice guy and the rough stuff isn't your style, far too sophisticated for that."

"I don't know, you got me into a scrap the other week. In fact you joined in as well if I recall correctly."

"Well I couldn't let them hurt someone I loved now, could I?"

"I suppose not. Now I've met your dad, you'll have to come and meet mine."

"I'm sorry, I didn't even know your dad was still alive, your mum isn't is she?"

"No she's gone, but I have a step mother."

"Is she the proverbial dragon?"

"No she's rather nice actually."

"So where do they live?"

"They have a place in Hampstead."

"Oh, London."

"Is there another? Yes, Dad's a business man."

"Not into banking, is he?"

He suddenly looked rather coy, "Yes actually."

"What in your bank?"

He nodded.

"Presumably higher up the food chain if he can afford to live in Hampstead."

"A bit," he didn't look me in the eye and I felt a bit suspicious.

"So what is he, a director or something?"

"Sort of." He was blushing, what was he hiding?

"What do you mean sort of? What is he?"

"You spoke about him the other day."

"Oh my God, no wonder you were defending him and his 'conservation measures'. My God, but he's...."

"Yeah, exactly.."

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 101

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Fiction

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

The gravy thickens, or do I mean plot? What plot, there isn't one!

Easy As Falling Off A Bike.
by Exhausted of Dorset.
part 101.

I sat back in the car in stunned silence. No wonder Simon was a gentleman, he was from a titled family and not one of your life peers, his probably went back to Magna Carta or beyond, while mine were still emerging from the primordial swamp.

This was what Stella had been on about, this was his secret that put off his girlfriends, or was it? Some might be encouraged by it, especially the gold-diggers. How did I feel? Stunned, completely shocked. If he had said he was a reformed drunk it would have shocked me less. We come from different worlds, I'd known that for some time, now I realised we were from different galaxies as well.

I thought Simon said something but I wasn't listening, I was consumed by my own thoughts. It was over, his parents would never stand for him dating someone who used to be a boy, besides they'd want heirs and I can't give them one.

"I said, where do you want to go for lunch?"

"I don't know, I'm not very hungry."

"It worries you doesn't it?"

"What does?" I couldn't really cope with his games at the moment.

"Going out with a chinless wonder."

"What? What are you on about?"

"It's how they used to describe boys from upper class families who went to public school."

"Did they?" I wanted to brood upon my own thoughts.

He switched off the engine of the car and I barely noticed. He grabbed hold of my hand and pulled me towards him. The action caught me by surprise as did the kiss he planted on my mouth. I responded on autopilot for a moment before I realised what was happening and kissed him back.

"I needed to get your attention."

"You got it," I said breathing heavily.

"Good, now I want us to go somewhere for lunch and discuss when you can come with me to meet my parents."

"I can't meet your parents."

"Why not?"

"Because I can't."

"Why ever not?"

"Because, that's why."

"Because of what?" he sounded a little impatient with me.

"Because I'm a pseudo-woman, remember?" I was close to tears.

"Oh God, did I say that?"

"Yes you did."

"Oops! I'm sorry, I withdraw it immediately and apologise unconditionally."

"Simon, you can't just un-say something. It hurt."

"I'm so sorry, I guess I was upset."

"Yeah, well so am I."

"You have to admit that learning that your gorgeous girlfriend used to be a man, is a bit to take on board."

"I accept that and I accept that you were upset when you made that remark. I realise that we are probably finished as a relationship because of my deception, so why are you asking me to meet your parents? It doesn't make sense."

"Because I still love you, or at least I think I do."

"Wouldn't it be better to make sure before you go embarrassing everyone with my presence?"

"What do you mean?"

"Introducing me to your parents, this is Cathy, she used to be a boy."

"As if I'd do that to you or them?"

"I don't know, isn't your dad likely to have me checked out by a private detective?"

"Why?"

"In case he thought I was a gold digger."

"The biggest gold digger is Stella."

"So is she Lady whatever?"

"Yeah, but we don't use any titles because they get in the way."

"I thought they were supposed to be good for getting tables in crowded restaurants."

"Wouldn't know, try to avoid them, prefer quiet ones myself," he gave me one of his captivating smiles and it did just that, captivated me. "So what about lunch?"

"Yeah, okay?"

"Where, you're the local?"

"Oh I don't know, just drive until we see a pub or something."

"Right, that's what we'll do then." He started up the Saab and we drove for about twenty minutes before we came across a pub that looked half decent. "This do?"

We were in the village of Aust, in the shadow of the Severn Bridge, the original one, with views across the river. "I haven't been down here for years." It had changed more than a little in that time.

Inside, it was busy enough for us to be able to find a table near a window overlooking the river, yet far enough away from other patrons to be able to talk in private.

"So will you come with me to meet my parents?"

"What for?"

"I want them to meet you."

"But why? I'm not trying to be awkward, but don't people usually do that sort of thing when they plan on getting married or something?"

"They want to meet you."

"What for?"

"Okay, Stella has been shooting off that cavernous gob of hers, about 'this girl that Simon is dating,' and they want to meet you."

"What like to have lunch together, somewhere?"

"Yeah, and breakfast, dinner and tea. We're invited up for the weekend, when we can give them some dates."

"Gee whizz Simon, I can't do that. I'd be well out of my depth, I don't know my fish knife from my cummerbund. I'd be so embarrassing to be with. Hampstead would be talking about it for years to come."

"It wasn't Hampstead we're invited to."

"What?"

"They have a little place on Scotland."

"What ten thousand acres of grouse moor?"

"Twenty actually."

"There is no way I am going to a country house where they shoot things."

"We don't shoot things in the house, you clot."

"Don't patronise me Simon, you know perfectly well what I mean."

"So are you refusing?"

"Declining their very generous offer."

"Would you meet them in London?"

"For a meal, yes. can't you say I'm too busy to give up the time for anything longer. It's true if I have to keep an eye on my dad."

"Okay, when can you do it?"

"I haven't thought about it, so I don't know."

"Next weekend?" He pulled out his mobile and began to call someone. "Hi Dad, we can do lunch next saturday, at your club? Can't we go somewhere a bit more lively? The Savoy, yeah that'd be fine. One pm, gotcha, we'll be there. She hasn't yet but I think she will. Okay, see you on saturday."

"I haven't what but I will, what?" I demanded.

"Marry me what else?"

I sat and felt my mouth gape open.

"Only joking, the dormouse campaign, the pictures for the posters and fliers."

"Simon, I am going to kill you when we go somewhere private." The relief I felt was almost palpable. Then he sniggered and so did I, then he chuckled and so did I. Then he roared and I giggled. By the time they brought our food, they probably thought they had a couple of escaped loonies in their pub.

We were about to eat when his phone rang. He picked it up and after a few words to the caller said, "There's a Scott for sale on ebay."

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 102

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Fiction

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Other Keywords: 

  • image intensifiers
  • fish and chips
  • is that enough?
  • Dormouse / Dormice / Dormeece

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

The plot thickens.... oh, I've done that bit before. Oh just read it for yourselves!

Easy As Falling Off A Bike.
by Angharad
part 102.

"How do you know?" I was astonished at this news and the thought I might be reunited with my bike was wonderful.

"I have a friend monitoring it, and who will act as a buyer if we think it's yours, if so then we set up a sting with the local police."

"Wow, you are so clever!" I was full of admiration for this wonderful hunk sat opposite me.

"Nah not really, but I know a man who is." He smirked at me and we giggled like schoolgirls again. I suspect the older couple who had come to sit on the next table were not impressed with our antics from the disdainful looks they were giving us.

Simon noticed as well and shrugged his shoulders. I winked and said in a loud voice, "Well Lord Stanebury, do I get the job as your concubine or not?"

The old man was sipping his beer as I said it and I suspect a bit went down the wrong way, he began coughing and went rather red in the face. As we left his wife was still slapping him on the back and I deliberately minced out, wiggling my bum like a call girl. Simon was trying to stifle a laugh and having some difficulty. Once we got outside, we almost fell about laughing.

"Did you see that old fellow's face, I thought he was going to burst a blood vessel, come here concubine and give me a kiss."

"It'll cost ya."

"I beg your pardon, I just paid for your lunch."

"So, we only ate because you were hungry."

"True, but you ate as well."

"I was always taught that it's not nice to have friends eat and drink on their own."

"What about lovers?"

"Mum didn't tell me about them, so I don't know if it counts, ummph!"

He grabbed me and kissed me again, I was still trying to talk, then gave up and surrendered to his kisses, I'd forgotten what I was going to say anyhow.

"Come on, lets go and find a computer and have a look at this bike." We drove back to my parents house and while I made some tea, Simon sat and fidgeted, waiting impatiently as my lap top booted up.

"Goodness this is slow," he complained.

"It's old, like it's owner," I called back, then thought, if he buys me a new one, I'll bash him on the head with it.

"What's it run on, Windows 3.1?"

"Ha ha, no XP, why?"

"Ah, I think we have lift off. Here we go, ebay coming up. Cathy, come and see if this is your bike?"

I almost ran in, carrying two mugs of tea. "It's the same model, so it could be. What size?"

Simon fiddled about, "It doesn't say."

"Oh. I suppose there are a few of them around, it might be a genuine one."

"Yeah, that's true, but we go for it anyway if it is the right size. If it's your old one we do the sting, if it isn't you have a new one. Either way you win."

"I have to pay for it, Simon."

"We'll sort that out after the wedding."

"What wedding?" I felt my heart flutter again.

"My cousin is getting married, silly bugger. We're invited."

"What? When did you know this?"

" A couple of days ago."

"Why didn't you say so before?"

"We had other things to deal with, it's no big deal."

"What I'm seen on the arm of Viscount Stanebury at a society wedding, and it's no big deal?"

"Okay, so it is a big deal, we're up to the challenge."

"When is it?"

"Next month."

"Where?"

"Erm, Scotland."

"Scotland!"

"What about my dormice?"

"They're not invited."

"You fool," I said slapping his shoulder, "I mean when am I supposed to get back down to Portsmouth to get out and check my nesting sites?"

"Come down one night mid week and I'll try and get a few hours off and help you."

"I don't usually have help."

"Have you been going around your sites as Cathy?"

"Sometimes," I admitted blushing. "But it was after dark, so no one saw me."

"You could have been attacked or sexually assaulted. You don't know who's lurking in the woods."

"I probably do, I have image intensifiers and infra red viewers."

"You do? Gosh, I'm coming then, I've never played with those before."

"They're not toys Simon, it's expensive equipment owned by the university."

"Don't tell me you've never played with them?" he challenged.

"I'm usually too busy to play. I can walk eight or nine miles checking out all my sites."

"What!"

"So if you're coming with me, be prepared for an energetic night." as the words left my lips I knew I had said the wrong thing.

"You are so good to me Cathy," he smirked.

"You know what I mean, you twisted aristocrat!" I sneered at him in mock disgust.

"You have cut me to the core of my blue blood," he simpered, "I am mortally wounded."

"I've a got a bandaid somewhere."

"You heartless hussy."

"That's me." I walked back out to the kitchen swinging my bum like I had a hula-hoop on the go.

"Hey up, we have a frame size, 52."

"Oh my God, that's the same as mine." I rushed back from the kitchen.

Simon dialled on his mobile, "We could have a goer, frame size matches." There was a pause as he listened to his friend, "Okay, let me know what happens, how much? A thousand." He looked at me and I nodded, "Okay, if it's kosher and in good nick, get it. If it's the one we are looking for, set off the sting."

I stood with my heart beating nineteen to the dozen and I felt quite sick. Simon was listening again. "Okay, you'll let me know. Whereabouts do you think they are? Gotcha, the Midlands. Could be our bike, it was taken on the M5, just a hop skip and a jump away."

He finished his call and saw my anxiety. He stood up and hugged me. "It'll be okay, either way you win and you'll soon be cycling again."

"I hope so." I didn't know if I wanted it to be my bike or not. Part of me did and wanted the rats who took it to be punished, another part of me felt scared, even with Simon here. Maybe having him accompany me around my dormouse survey would be a good idea.

"Here, you're shaking." He held me tighter and I dissolved into tears in his arms. "You don't cry at weddings too, do you?"

"Probably," I snorted and sniffed.

"Oh bugger!"

He played on my computer while I made us some dinner, a simple fish and chips with a side salad and a bottle of wine. Then we went to bed. I was still shy about undressing in front of him, and did so in the bathroom once again, slipping under the covers before he could see me. We cuddled and kissed and he let his hand casually slip across my groin. I didn't protest, I knew what he was doing. A few minutes later, it happened again.

He sat up on bed, pulled down the clothes and lifted up my nightdress. I lay there mortified, unable to move.

He didn't touch me, but saw the outline in my pants. "Is that real?" he asked staring at my crotch.

"It's all me, but looks can be deceiving."

"How the hell did you do that? I mean it's not one of those things you see advertised on the internet is it?"

"No, it's all me and you don't want to know how it's done."

"You're probably right there," he shook his head, "It looks quite convincing."

"It will one day." I pulled my nightie back down.

"Yeah, of course, I'm sorry."

"Are you still having problems with me?" I asked almost waiting for the second shoe to drop.

"No, I was just curious that I hadn't been aware of anything untoward except your attitude, which puzzled me a bit. Although if you had been abused, it could figure I suppose."

"I had a good friend at Sussex who was abused by her uncle when she was about ten. She was terrified of men, except me. She thought I was gay and one night we got a bit tipsy together and she told me all about it."

"Was he prosecuted for it?"

"No he died with cancer a year later, she seemed to think it was a Divine intervention."

"Does she know about you?"

"I tried to explain, and she wanted to see what I looked like as a girl, but I didn't have the courage to do it and she didn't offer again."

"Pity, you might have been sorted by now."

"Yeah, in some ways. She was tiny, so her stuff wouldn't fit me anyway and I didn't have the money to buy it."

"What your parents kept you short?"

"We had this problem with their religion, the more I railed against it, the less help they gave me. I worked in a supermarket three nights a week when I did my first degree."

"And still got a first. I'm impressed."

"I was just lucky and had some good tutors."

"Do you always find it difficult to take compliments?"

I blushed and looked away, pulling the bed clothes over me.

"I asked you a question," he insisted and pulled the bedclothes away from my face.

"Yes, I do. As a kid I was told it was conceited to be too proud, so I never was. Pride was a sin."

"I'm proud of you. I think you've come through some awful times and despite them you have triumphed. In your personal life, I see you like cygnet waiting to change into a beautiful swan, not that you aren't beautiful now." He ran his finger up my cheek. "Hey, don't cry."

Of course saying that had the opposite effect and I burst into tears, which meant he then had to cuddle me to calm me down. "I'm going to ask Stella to come up on friday and take you shopping to Bath, to look for an outfit for the wedding and if you see something you like, for meeting my parents, get it as well. I think you deserve a day out, so it's my treat."

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 103

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Fiction

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

More Soup than Sex and I'll bet the bread is half baked!

Easy As Falling Off A Bike.
by Angharad.
part 103.

It was a saturday night and I was with my own Prince Charming, okay he discovered that Cinderella used to be Buttons in a previous life, but the slipper fitted and now before he turned back into a frog, he wanted.... .I didn't actually care what he wanted, I was well into a good cry because he'd pushed another of my buttons, no not the pantomime character, one of my emotional buttons.

I am useless at taking compliments, I'd rather not have them, they embarrass me. I've never had them in the past, so I don't need them now. When I got my degree my parents told me they expected nothing less than 100% effort from me and they got what they expected. So when someone said I was beautiful, I could ignore that too. When they kept saying it and questioned my acceptance of it, they had pushed through my barriers and I didn't know how to cope with it. So when in doubt: cry. If in big doubt: cry buckets. I was doing just this!

Then Prince Charming, offers me a day out expenses paid with Princess Charming to buy a ball gown to meet the king and queen, I found it even harder to cope. My insides were all mushy and they felt harder than my brain which had turned to liquid and was seeping out of my eyes.

How do people cope with compliments? I didn't know, so I did what I know how to do, feel sad. That gives me the excuse to cry a lot, a skill I am improving through practice. If this is self indulgence, then that is sinful too, so I have every reason to be sad, I am truly wicked and my parent's god seems intent on pissing all over me for being so.

I felt a warm hand pull me backwards on the bed as it wrapped around my waist, and I found myself spooned into Simon's body again. I could feel his warmth and I shivered a little.

"It's okay, everything is okay my baby. You are safe and sound with me, nothing can hurt you when I am here, so just relax and calm down and enjoy us just snuggling up together. I hope you are enjoying it as much as I am," his hand moved to gently stroke my breast and I felt my nipple grow and harden, a fact which could hardly have passed him by. He proved it, when a few moments later he stroked the other one.

I had stopped crying, listening to his sweet talk and enjoying his fingers stroking my boobs. I gently held his hand against my breast, indicating that it was okay to touch them, and he kissed the top of my head, then my neck. I wiped my eyes on the bedclothes. A little later he asked me roll over onto my back and he kissed me.

If CPR was like this, I'd fake a heart attack at least three times a day. He was so loving and gentle, carefully kissing me and chewing my lips. I put my arms around his neck and pulled him closer and kissed him back. I felt so horny, so sexed up that I'd have done almost anything for him to screw me there and then. I did contemplate alternatives to the approved orifice, but they didn't seem appropriate. I wanted to be seen as a woman not an effeminate gay man, because I was a woman in all but one vital area and that would be fixed one day.

"I love you my own 'ugly duckling'," he said and kissed me again.

"I love you too," I said and tears formed again.

"What's wrong now?" he asked masking his irritation almost entirely.

"I'm so happy, I can't believe it."

"You're so happy, you're crying?" he said smiling in the way men do when women say something that makes perfect sense to a female psyche, but not to a male one. "Okay," he said not meaning that at all, "I'm glad that you're happy." I'm sure he was thinking, I just hope I never see you in a blissful state, it could shrink the carpets.

He kissed me again and I smiled at him. I wiped my eyes and pushed him down on the bed and lying across his chest, I snuggled down and listened to his heart beat. I was so comfortable I dozed a little, waking when he coughed.

"You'll have to move over some lover," he said, "my arm's gone to sleep," I sat up and sleepily smiled at him as he shook his arm and clapped his arm to get rid of the pins and needles.

"Want me to kiss it better?" I asked coyly.

"If you want," he replied holding his hand out to me.

I sat alongside him facing him bringing my legs around behind me. I took his hand and kissed the palm. "Is that better?" I asked.

"A bit," he said smiling.

I kissed it again, "How is that?"

"Yeah, a little bit better," he was nearly chuckling because I started licking his palm, "that tickles," he said before he began to laugh.

"This little piggy went to market," I kissed his finger, then sucked on it. He laughed some more. "This little piggy stayed at home," I was about to kiss his second finger when he cupped my jaw with his hand and pulled me up to his face and kissed me deeply, drinking my love and imbuing me with his own.

Eventually, we stopped sucking each other's faces off and settled down to cuddle and sleep. Again I slept like a log, safe in the certainty that I was loved. It was like having all my birthdays and Christmasses together. If I dreamt, I don't remember any of it, only this feeling of being loved, which I prayed would never end.

It was wonderful waking to feel his sleepy body beside me, I turned over and lay there just drinking him with my eyes, watching him sleep in the pale light of an October morning. I recalled the day before and what had happened then, things were so different now. I still didn't know if any of this would last, it seemed too good to be true and I thought that Simon would drop me like a hot coal when he found a real female to replace me.

I barely managed to shut the sluice gates in time, but somehow I did and avoided crying for a change. I probably didn't deserve to be happy anyway, so I had to try and get as much of it as I could while it lasted.

I lay on my side, my head resting on my hand, my elbow stuck on my pillow, simply watching his hairy chest rise and fall with each breath. I tried to will my love into his body with each inspiration he made and absorb his love from each exhalation. It stopped me thinking negative thoughts for a short time and I didn't want to get out of bed in case it woke him. He looked so peaceful and beautiful. I desperately wanted to kiss him, but dared not.

My arm was becoming numb from lying in one position when he opened his eyes, focused on me and smiled. "Hi," was all he needed to say before I practically devoured him with a kiss. It was a good way to start a sunday morning.

He eventually pushed me off and hopped into the bathroom, with me sniggering knowing he would have some difficulty in peeing for a few moments. I slipped out of bed and went to start the breakfast.

The rest of the morning seemed to fly by as Simon reminded me of my promise to my dad to make him soup and bread. It took the rest of the morning although we also had some for our lunch.

"What soup is this?" asked Simon, eating half the loaf.

"Vegetable, why?"

"It never tastes this good in restaurants."

"I don't know why, it isn't that special."

"I don't know how you can turn a pile of boring garden waste into such a tasty meal, and this bread, is to die for."

"It will be if you eat any more of it, the rest is for my dad."

"Oh," he blushed, "yeah, nearly forgot. Will you make me soup when you marry me?"

"Simon, it is very unlikely that you will marry me, especially when your father finds out about my past. Remember April Ashley and all the fuss that caused.

I wasn't actually born when that happened, but because she married a minor aristo, the full weight of the establishment descended upon her and the laws tightened up against transsexuals, only being revised in their favour in about 2005. I'd read about the case years ago and also read her biography, which was astonishing to me. It seemed she had lived about ten lifetimes and screwed half the leading movie stars of the day. She was a model and very beautiful, compared to her I was rather plain looking, or so I thought anyway.

While I washed up, Simon fiddled on my computer. "What was that woman's name?"

"What woman?" I called back from the kitchen.

"The one you were on about, April someone."

"April Ashley, why?"

"Just wondered, that's all." He did a trawl through various newspaper archives and read up about her story. When I came back with the soup and bread to take to the hospital, he showed me what he'd found.

"Now she was really beautiful," I said blushing.

"The makeup is a bit overdone,"

"It was the nineteen sixties, Si. They wore it like that then."

"She's not as pretty as you."

"I think she's more so, except she had a deep voice."

"How do you know?"

" I saw her on telly once, my dad was very critical of her and her ilk."

"Looks like he got paid back in spades then, doesn't it?"

"Yeah, looks like." I agreed and sat on his lap.

"Serves him right, the old bigot."

"Well, I have to go and see the old bigot now, are you coming or staying or what?"

He glanced at his watch, "How long are you going to be?"

"Why what did you have in mind?"

"I need to head back by early evening, would be nice to go for a walk or something if we have time. How about I run you to the hospital and pick you up an hour or so later?"

"Yeah, okay. I'll explain to Daddy that I have to see you off and I'm sure he'll understand. He was always hot on courtesy to guests."

"If he thinks I'm staying with you, won't he blow another fuse?"

"If he does he does, I'm not ashamed of it."

"Okay, let's go for it then." With that I picked up the food and my bag, grabbed a jacket from behind the front door and followed my lord and master out to his car.

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 104

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Fiction

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

Easy As Falling Off A Bike.
by Angharad
part 104.

I had poured the soup into a thermos flask, one I'd used when I was a kid going off for the day with the local RSPB* group of young ornithologists, my mum would give me a flask of hot soup to keep me warm on cold days. I'm sure going out with the group led to my interest in things wildlife, for which I am truly grateful.

These thoughts helped me plod my way down the corridor towards the ward Daddy was in. I entered waving to the nurses, who waved back. As usual, he had refused the hospital food so was glad I'd come early.

Pouring the soup into the dish I'd also taken, I warned my father that I had to leave early as well in order to see my friend off.

He nodded his understanding then said, "'E vor goyvren?" I stood looking at him for a moment trying to work out what he had said. The penny dropped at last.

"Is he my boyfriend? Is that what you just said?" I asked thinking I would deny it. He nodded slowly but very definitely.

"Sort of, he's a friend of mine and well...." I saw him glare at my deliberate vagueness. "All right yes he's my boyfriend, why is that a problem?"

He shook his head and I saw his eyes fill with tears. I had bullied him, assuming he would be hostile but it was me who doing the hostility bit. If he had been well I'd have expected the whole Deuteronomy bit, but weakened by his stroke he didn't seem to have the stomach to fight me now. I couldn't believe he approved of what I was doing in any shape or form and a boyfriend would have driven him to kill me a while before.

" 'E's nuh-ice," he struggled to say and my heart melted. I couldn't believe he was playing some game with me, although the power had shifted since a blood vessel in his brain had got choked, probably with all the shit his religion had pumped into him over the years.

"I think so," I replied blushing a little, my little secret was out.

I tried to feed him his soup and bread but he wanted to talk. I of course couldn't deny him freedom, but I did bargain with him to eat first then we could talk. He grumbled until I pointed out his soup would be cold. He had a spoonful and it won the argument. We talked after he'd eaten a whole bowl and most of the bread. Then he disappeared to the toilet helped by a nurse.

I cleared up the mess and waited for him to return. I helped him back into his chair and he gave a resounding burp at which we both smiled. Before his stroke, that would not have happened, it was common.

" ZZZzz-i-mmmonn." He declared himself ready for me to tell him about my friend.

"He works in a bank and shares a cottage with his sister, she's a nurse and it was through her that I met him. You met her at Mum's funeral."

He nodded and after a moment's thought asked, " 'E gg-ay?"

I shook my head vigorously, "No he isn't gay, neither am I. Is that clear?"

He shook his head and rolled his eyes and I wasn't sure what that meant. For a moment I thought he was sick. Then he shrugged his shoulders, " V-oor dwenty one."

"Twenty two actually, so yes I'm an adult and able to make my own life choices. Remember we discussed that my only stipulation to maintaining some form of relationship was that you accepted me as a female. So far you have honoured that agreement, for which I am grateful."

"V-oo mmm-y d-or-or."

"I so want to be so Daddy, I really do." I kissed him and soon after went off to my rendevous with Simon.

"Hi sweetheart," he said as I got in his car, "how's papa?"

"Okay, he wanted to know all about you."

"Mmmmmmeeeeeeee?" he said exaggeratedly.

"Yes you sweet lips."

"What did you tell him?"

"That I'd adopted you and you were now his grandson."

He slammed on the brakes and said," What did you tell him?"

"I told him you worked in a bank and your sister was a nurse and that was it."

"Did you tell him we were dating?"

"Sort of."

"Did he ask if I was gay?"

"Of course, so I bent over and let him examine my arse to prove we weren't."

"That isn't all gay men do apparently."

"If I was gay, it would make me a lesbian." I said looking out of the windscreen, "The lights have changed Si."

"Oh yeah," he said accelerating away, "I was trying to get my head around what you just said. I decided I couldn't, so I hope you're not."

"Not what?"

"Not lesbian."

"Of course I'm not otherwise I wouldn't be here with you, would I?"

"Unless you were in denial,"

"What!"

"This is making my brain hurt Cathy."

"Well stop it then. I am not lesbian period, okay?"

"Okay, and I'm not gay."

" I know that Simon, so why do you keep telling me this?" I watched his face grow redder. I knew damn well he wasn't gay, but this was too good to resist. "Why are you going red Simon?" Of course this made him worse.

He pulled over to a bus stop and was explaining how awful I was to him when a bus came up behind us and tooted loudly at us to move.

Realising that he was sensitive about my teasing I decided I would apologise but also talk to Stella when I could. Was he hiding something from me, I mean he was ex-public school, all flogging and buggery if the stories are to be believed.

I did apologise for teasing him and he calmed down. Eventually we drove up to the old Severn Bridge and walked across it, arm in arm. I was rather glad because it was very windy but the views were magnificent and looking down to the new bridge was spectacular. Both bridges are architectural masterpieces and form the main road route between England and Wales, 'Lloegr and Cymru' according to the signs.

We stopped to admire the view once again as we walked back and I suddenly thought of the people who had jumped off the bridge, the saddest being a woman who threw her children off first and was stopped from jumping by a passer by. Her kids drowned she lived. Her reason, she wanted to spare them from this evil world. Sad or what? I decided I wouldn't tell Simon that tale, it was too sad and we were having a nice walk, although I was getting cold.

He noticed and shepherded me to the services where we had a cuppa and a cake at horrendous cost. Back at the car he told me he had to go home soon. I felt sad but knew that I would see him soon, like wednesday night and my dormouse survey. I reminded him and once back at the house he wrote it on his Blackberry.

"You don't have one of these then?"

"No, I'm not a geek."

"You have an I-pod?"

"I have an MP3, yes."

"Well then. I'd better pack up my stuff."

While he did so I made him some sandwiches with my own baked bread, I'd saved some for this eventuality. It also helped me to focus on something other than the loss of his company.

I heard him run up and down stairs a couple of times wondering what he was doing, but I was knee deep in bread, so waited until I'd finished.

I presented him with his bundle of food, sandwiches, crisps, chocolate and a drink.

"Goodness, a complete picnic, what a pity you won't be there to share it."

"I know," I said feeling a sniffle coming on.

"I'd better go."

"Yes m'lord."

"Oh shut up. Play your cards right, you could end up as Lady Staneberry."

"I'd have thought that was your step-mother."

"No she's the Countess."

"Stella?"

"Okay, she's Lady Stella, you'd be Lady Catherine."

"I don't think the powers that be would accept that."

"These days they don't have a choice, anti-discrimination laws are pretty tough."

"I'm not holding my breath, Simon. I don't believe in Santa Claus, but I am enjoying every minute of this heavenly dream I'm having, it almost feels real. I don't need a title to be happy, just you."

He swept me off my feet and kissed me and squeezed me so tightly that I thought I was going to suffocate.

"It isn't a dream, it's rea...." at this moment his mobile rang and he was almost going to ignore it but decided not to. He listened and nodded to me, "Looks like the sting is going down. You might get your bike back eventually."

"Oh Simon, that is brilliant," I squealed, yes squealed with delight and hugged and kissed him.

* RSPB = The Royal Society for the Protection of Birds.

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 105

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Fiction

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Other Keywords: 

  • philosophy
  • multi-dimensionalism
  • usual bullshit.

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

Living the dream? Is that what we do, or do we sleep our way through life?
Revelations for Cathy.

Easy As Falling Off A Bike.
by Angharad.
part 105.

I watched the lights of the Saab disappear around the corner of the road and returned to the house. It felt lonely and so did I. The temptation to fall into a blue funk and feel sorry for myself was strong, however, I realised that if I did such a thing I would regret it. It seems easier to become depressed than it does to climb out of it.

The alternative was to get stuck in to something, preferably physical, and not too demanding on brain time. I cleaned up the kitchen, although I'd made Simon his supper, I didn't fancy any food myself, too down to eat. Instead I put in the next batch of bread constituents and turned the machine on. If nothing else it would produce some for breakfast if I wanted it and for my dad. I also had to think about the soup I would make for him.

Checking in the freezer produced some chicken portions, so that was solved. I left them to defrost overnight after making sure I had enough vegetables to make up the rest of my brew. This playing housewife stuff was a bit more demanding than I'd ever considered before. I knew that when one person runs after a whole family it can be demanding, but just looking after myself and my dad, plus the odd visitor was taking much more time than I expected. Hospital visiting was a pain, it eats into the day, but not many others were queuing up to do the honours and he is my dad.

I crawled up the stairs, recalling that less than twenty four hours ago I was climbing them with someone who gave my heart a reason to beat, now he was gone and it would be two or three days before I saw him again.

Reality reminded me that I had oodles to do before that, including some more of my university project. I went into the guest bedroom to strip the bedding, the forecast for the next day was good, so I could dry it on the line because it always smells so much nicer than dried indoors. Crikey, I was becoming real little wifey!

I switched on the light and didn't know what to do first, scream with anger or pleasure. On the bed was a large bouquet of flowers, one of those that comes with it's own reservoir of water, next to it was a box of chocolates and beyond that another box.

I picked up the flowers, they were just so beautiful lilies and roses and chrysanthemums, I began to tear up. The chocolates were Terry's All Gold, a selection of plain chocolate covered sweets, I wouldn't need any tea tonight after all. No wonder I was getting fat!

The final box was a bit secretive and gift wrapped. I carefully opened the paper and inside was a Blackberry. My intial thought was, 'I don't need one of these, so he can have it back on wednesday.' Then I calmed down when I began to read through it's functions, and certainly sending emails from it would be easier than trying to do them on my mobile.

Last but not least, he'd left the tee shirt he'd worn for the past two nights and I knew it wasn't for the washing. I smiled, then buried my face in it and inhaled deeply.

I did finally pull myself together and get the washing done, it was folded and ready to hang out the next morning. The bread was rising nicely, or at least the dough was, and the Blackberry was on charge. I had nothing more to do than sit around and look at the flowers which I'd taken into the lounge and placed in the fire place.

I tried to think about my project but all that came was my yearning to see Simon again. I hoped he felt the same as I did. I reread the note he'd left under the packages, it was rather small so I nearly missed it and it could have ended up in the washing machine.

It was a very small card with a dormouse on the front, where he'd found it I had no idea, but it would be going in my treasure box when I got tired of kissing it. The message was very short and simple.

'Dearest Cathy,

Please forgive my dreadful behaviour the other morning. Except for a few short hours that morning, I have never thought of you as anything other than a beautiful young woman, and someone whom I seem to love and need in my life. I sincerely hope it is mutual, because I am going to be around for a very long time and without you, life is going to be empty of the sparkle you have given it.

Love,

Simon.
xxx'

I sniffed the tee shirt again and wiped away the tears. We had come a very long way this weekend and the roller-coaster that was my life of recent months, had climbed and dived higher and deeper than ever before. At its nadir, I wondered how I could go on living, at its zenith, I was so alive I could feel immortality a mere whisker away. In between I'd undulated a little with my dad and doing ordinary things with Simon.

Maybe that was the most special event of them all, I was doing ordinary things with Simon and my dad as girlfriend or daughter, without a second thought of who or what I was. I was also accepted in those roles by others who didn't know and saw nothing extra-ordinary. Effectively, I was actually living most of my dream, something that many would be women never get to do and for which they have my unconditional sympathy.

I felt a warmth surround me as if by making this realisation I had passed some marker, some rite of passage. I had effectively arrived as an ordinary woman and I felt really strange, almost overwhelmed by it. I had dreamed of this for so long and it nearly passed me by.

I know I have some hoops to jump through to get the surgery which will confirm what I already know and the paper work to make it legally official, but that is secondary. In some ways, even my relationship with Simon is compared with this. It's true that it helps to define me as being worthy of being loved by a very handsome and generous man and for which I am eternally grateful. But this sense of being right in myself which has settled upon me, is primal stuff, this is my core, the very heart of me like the DNA which makes me who I am genetically.

This was an epiphany and there could never be any doubt in my own mind now as to who I really was. I was Catherine Watts, I am Catherine Watts and I will be Catherine Watts until the end of my life and perhaps for eternity. If that was the case, I didn't feel so in awe of the concept of endlessness which had always made my mind boggle, because everything in us was so finite. In this moment of self revelation, I had perhaps glimpsed something infinite and connected with it.

I was aware of my mother for some strange reason, maybe feeling something shared with her, which prevously had been tentative or even a feeling of unworthiness, as if I was some sort freak who emulated her and wanted to be like her but because I couldn't, I was soiled or unclean. Now I knew that wasn't the case and that she would have understood had she lived to know the real me. The house no longer felt hostile or scary, and although I couldn't relate to it as my home any more, it was my father's home and I felt comfortable there.

It's difficult to describe how I felt at this moment because that was all it was, a moment, when I knew that I deserved to be who I was and that it was okay with the rest of the universe. Were I religious, I would have described it as knowing that God was in his heaven and all was right with the world. Instead, I blundered through my own inadequate descriptions of deep feelings.

The phone rang and it was Simon. "Hi Babes, I'm home and will collect you from your room on wednesday evening. Is that okay?"

Still rapt in my thoughts of the infinite, I seemed resentful to come back down to earth, "Yeah, that's okay."

"Did you find anything?"

"Yes I did," I paused drifting aloft again.

"And?"

"I saw the infinite."

"Cathy, have you been sniffing my shirt again?"

"No, yes I have, but this just happened. I can't describe it to you but I saw or felt something wonderful."

"Not making much sense unless you mean it was made by Blackberry."

"No this was something unworldly, Simon, a glimpse into time and space beyond the imaginations of us mortals."

"Okay babes, I'll leave you with your philosophy and talk tomorrow. Love ya."

"Yes, okay," and I put the phone down.

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 106

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Fiction

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

Easy As Falling Off A Bike.
by Angharad.
part 106.

I went to bed still feeling rather spaced out, tired but so wide awake I felt as if I was on some drug or other, except I'd never used them. I have to stay in control of myself in case someone gets to spot my little secret, especially now. Before it was in case I said something or reacted to something inappropriately, now, well I think you get the picture.

Eventually sleep did happen and I woke up feeling good, Simon's tee shirt was handy and I snuggled and sniffed for half an hour before getting up. The rest of the day was chores and visiting Dad, that didn't seem to get any easier.

On monday evening I did manage some writing, and almost ignored a phone call. It was nearly ten at night, most people don't call that late so it had to be either Simon or the hospital. I hoped it was the former.

"Hello?"

"Hi is that Cathy Watts?"

"Yes, who wants her?"

"Hi I'm Mike Cadbury, a friend of Simon."

"Hello Mike, what can I do for you?"

"Come up to Gloucester tomorrow and collect something because it's taking up too much space in my kitchen."

"Sorry, I don't understand," this guy seemed a bit strange.

"It's made by the Scott corporation of America, or something similar."

"You have my bike?" I shrieked down the phone probably damaging his hearing for life.

"I do, when can you collect it?"

"How did you manage to get it back?"

"With the help of the West Midlands Police, who were happy to arrest the thief. We had a letter from the bike shop to state he'd carried out repairs on the wheels and gave the serial numbers, we had the serial number of the bike frame and the copy of the incident report from the Avon and Somerset Police. We could prove ownership, the guy trying to sell it couldn't. He also had a crimnal recored for handling stolen goods on several previous occasions."

"Wow, that is brilliant. Are you about tomorrow?" It seemed he was and gave me his address and directions to find him. I was going to get my bike back at long last. I felt great.

Once back, I could inform the insurance company and they could then return my excess and so on. I decided to call Simon.

"Hi Cathy," answered Stella, "he's not around, or at least I haven't seen him. Yeah that's great news about your bike, you haven't met Chocolate Mike? He's a nice chap, was up at uni with Simon, been friends ever since. I'll tell him you called. What about friday, we have some serious spending to do?"

"How did your parents know about me, because Simon tells me he hadn't said anything to them?"

"I think someone saw you together and they called me for more info. I could hardly tell them lies, now could I?" I hoped that was a rhetorical question because the answer I'd give may not please her.

"How come Simon seems to have so much and you have so little with the parents you have? Sorry,I'm thinking out loud here, you don't have to tell me."

"All Simon has he earns, but he earns fabulous money and his bonuses are unbelieveable."

"So don't your parents sub you?"

"Do yours?"

"Sort of, but only as a way of keeping me here. He didn't before."

"Mine are the same, make your own way and so on."

"But your dad is a multi-millionaire?"

"Yeah, so, Simon is doing quite well in that direction too."

"Crikey, I didn't realise that."

"Until you came along he hadn't spent any significant amount for months. I mean he has houses all over the place, including one on Menorca."

"They have dormice there."

"They have lots of things sweetie, some are bronzed and have hairy chests too."

"Would John like hearing you talk like that?"

"He does as he's told, just like Simon."

"You boss Simon around?" I let slip a thought as it entered my brain.

"Of course, so do you, don't you?"

"No I don't."

"More fool you then."

"Did he tell you he knows my little secret."

"No he didn't, so it was no big deal then?"

"Yes and no, it surprised him."

"Yeah, I can believe that. You look as much like the real thing as any other woman I've ever met and better than most. Did he tell you about his previous experience?"

"No he didn't, what happened?" I was all ears.

"It was a bit different, because he knew the guy before he changed over. A very feminine sort of boy, even a bit camp, certainly had had sex with men before. Anyhow, it came out that he was going to live as a woman and have the operation and someone attacked him."

"Oh my goodness, was she hurt?" I had recollections of my own father's assault on me.

"Very badly, so badly beaten he nearly died."

"Oh goodness, why do people do that?"

"They thought it was a previous lover who didn't want their association to end or change. No one was ever charged though."

"How did Simon figure in all this?" I hoped he hadn't been on of her lovers.

"Oh only on the fringes, they shared a few classes and he was appalled by the attack. The boy was brain damaged from head injuries, was taken off to some institution up north. Didn't hear any more, until Simon and Chocolate Mike arranged a rugby game to help pay for the boy's care. They raised about fifty thousand altogether."

"Who did they play?" I wondered, at the amount.

"The Wallabies I think, is that what they call the Australians?"

"I think so, how did he manage that?"

"Remember our dad is well connected, they were touring and well they did it as a training game. They won by loads, Simon scored a try but it was disallowed, he knocked on or something."

"I'm better at bikes," I offered, I had a basic idea of what rugby was about but not a clear one, and unless I played womens' rugger, I didn't think it would prove of much interest now. Somehow I couldn't see myself doing that, no matter how much Simon would enjoy it.

"Yeah, well it's nearly back with you, so keep a better watch on it next time."

"I'm taking it to bed from now on."

She laughed in response, "Not sure Simon would be too pleased with that as a concept."

"A bike is the only thing he's going to get his leg over until I have had surgery."

"I think he knows that."

"Is that person he helped, still alive?"

"Yes, I think so, Simon is a trustee of the charity they formed to care for people with severe head injuries."

"He's a regular boy scout, isn't he?"

"Yeah he is, a real good samaritan, always has been. Didn't always go down well with Dad."

"Why?"

"Well that one, he didn't know what had happened to the lad concerned, if he had, he may not have helped."

"Why not?"

"In Dad's time, there were some real predatory gays around at his school, it kinda put him off."

"But you said the one Simon helped was transsexual?" I wondered if I would like Simon's dad.

"I'm not sure if they really were or not, personally from what Simon told me, more of a homosexual tranvestite, but I could be wrong. Even so, it's no reason for nearly killing someone."

"Exactly." I remembered the hate mail I'd received, I hope the two incidents weren't related, then recalled Simon was an London graduate.

"I've got to go flower, I have to be up at six. I'll be on the ten o'clock train, meet me at Temple Meads Station on friday."

"Okay Stella, I'm looking forward to it." I was lying but she didn't care either way.

I went to get my Blackberry and was going to send Simon an email, when I discovered he'd sent me one first.

"Hi Babes, just checking it's working and that you are too."

I replied, "Of course, this machine will change my life -I'm gonna sell it and buy some Jimmy Choos. Love Cathy xxx PS Only joking!

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 107

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Fiction

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Other Keywords: 

  • gratutitous use of words! Cant' someone stop her?

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

The return of the bike, will she fall off again?

Easy As Falling Off A Bike.
by Angharad.
part 107.

I was excited as I drove to Gloucester to collect my bike. I was going to put it inside the car, even if I had to take both wheels off, bike wheels that is. Taking wheels off the car would be rather unhelpful. Following Chocolate Mike's directions, I made it there in just over an hour once I got clear of Bristol, and the ubiquitous road works. At one point I listened to three tracks of Abba without the traffic moving at all.

For a change I was in jeans and a Portsmouth Uni sweatshirt, I thought it better to be prepared for messing about with bikes and cars. I'd also found an old curtain I could cover the bike with to keep oil from the carpet or seats in the car, and it would disguise what was in the car.

Mike lived in an old rectory, or part of one. The house was divided in half with the original huge garden split into two large ones. He was busy picking potatoes when I arrived and his wife or girlfriend called him from the garden.

"You must be Cathy?" he extended a huge hand which dwarfed mine, his hands were like the proverbial shovels.

"Yes I am, thanks so much for helping me recover my bike."

"That's okay," he smiled a set of white teeth beaming through a grizzled beard. He was as tall as Simon and even broader. "Anything to help a friend of Simon's."

He led me into the house where Gina, his wife, as I learned a few minutes later, was busy brewing coffee. I'm not much of a coffee drinker, it makes me want to wee even quicker than tea, but it smelt absolutely gorgeous.

We sat in the lounge and he regaled me with the story of how he had monitored ebay and made the sting. It turned out he was a retired copper, he'd been shot and it damaged his leg, so rather than face a desk job he went freelance as a private investigator. Judging by the size of his house, it obviously paid quite well.

I was aware that I'd left the breadmaker on and that I had soup to sort out for my dad, I explained I had to get back and he took me to see my bicycle. It was mine okay, there was a tiny scratch I'd patched with nail varnish which was exactly where I knew it would be. He helped me load it into my car and we only needed to remove the front wheel after I put the back seats down.

I thanked him again and left for home. The drive back became extra boring once the rain started and I was once more left singing along to Abba as I almost swam my way back through the roadworks. It sure did rain, reminding me of the day that started all of this adventure and my chance encounter with Stella. Little did I realise how much it would change my life. I said to my bike, "Look Scottie, I have enough adventure in my life just now, so although I have you back and will be riding you again as soon as I can, I don't need any more excitement other than whizzing along on you. Got it?"

Anyone listening would have thought me crazy, but I wasn't taking any chances with the bike this time. I'd wondered about the police needing the bike as evidence, but apparently they knew Mike and he got them to agree to a series of photos and his statement, plus that of Lord Stanebury, which tipped the balance. I knew his title would come in handy some time, having said that it didn't impress me one bit, I loved Simon for who he was not for bits of silver spoons in his gob or up his backside for all I cared. I'm not a forelock tugger, but the prospect of meeting one of the wealthiest men in the UK did make me feel uneasy.

What would Earl of Stanebury do when he found out what I was or had been? Have me murdered? I shuddered at the thought. I would have to work hard to be my charming self and make him like me, then he might think I was gold digging. Oh bugger, I couldn't win, so I'd just be myself, if he caught me on an off day, too bad. I could give as good an impression of PMS as any woman I knew.

Home and my bike safely esconced in the garage, and locked to a wall unit. I locked the garage and went inside. The bread was done and I set about knocking up a quick potato and leek soup for my dad. I was finding my way around the kitchen too easily, at this rate I was going to end up as a hausfrau, and even for Simon that wasn't what I wanted to do. For my dad, no way! I felt a twinge of guilt but a paracetamol would deal with that if necessary!

I did my duty and saw my father. He was brighter today and more chatty. I told him I'd got my bike back and would deal with the insurance company afterwards. He was pleased and told me to take the money he'd offered me anyway, as an early Christmas present. I refused and he got irritated and began to mix up his words. He tried to tell me that he had neglected me all these years and wanted to make it up to me.

I decided I wasn't playing. "Daddy, I love you but I won't be bought by you or Simon or anyone else. I'm an independent soul and I'm going to finish my PhD before I worry about anything else. As you couldn't be bothered to give me the money when I really needed it, you can keep it now." I kissed him on the cheek and left, warning him I would call tomorrow but was going back down to Portsmouth afterwards and couldn't guarantee I'd be in on thursday. I was busy on friday and saturday, so didn't expect to be in.

I saw him shrink back in his chair and the tears flowed down his cheeks. It cut me to the quick, but I smiled and left.

I was in combative mood that afternoon and fell out with the woman at the insurance company too. She tried to tell me that my excess, that is the money I had to pay to activate my insurance claim, was non-refundable. I actually swore at her and she put the phone down.

Next I decided to check out if my mother's bank account had been closed down, it had and I found a will she had left. I didn't realise she had so much money, according to that she left everything to my dad other than ten grand which she left to me. Wow, no wonder he's been so generous, I wondered if that was the most recent will.

I phoned her solicitor, the conversation was surreal and I won't relate it to you here, but they asked me attend their office. It was four o'clock, but they told me they could wait for me until five.

I grabbed my ID stuff, including my change of name form, changed quickly into a skirt and top, the denim one again, popped on the jacket and my boots and rushed off.

"Hi, Cathy Watts to see Mr Potter," I smiled at the receptionist.

She smirked at me, obviously aware of my secret and showed me through to her boss. I flashed him a smile and he held out his hand to me, "How do you do mist...um, Miss Watts."

I sat at the side of his desk as he opened the files and showed me the will, exactly the same as the one I'd seen at home. I showed my proof of identity including the form Dr Thomas had given me.

"The will is straightforward enough, and we don't anticipate any difficulties with it. Her share of the house goes to your father as does all the rest of her property with the exception of ten thousand pounds which she bequeathed to Charles her son."

"Now Cathy."

"Exactly," he pulled at his collar. He was about fifty-something and wore a grey suit, probably from Marks and Spencers, as were his white shirts and perhaps even his shoes and socks. His silk tie bearing a picture of Bugs Bunny, was most likely a Christmas present from one of his kids. I suspected his wife bought all his clothes for him, he was wearing a wedding ring.

"The reason I asked you to attend is that you have power of attorney for your father at the moment, so you could sign these release forms for us."

"Not without speaking to him first, and I'm not his favourite daughter at the moment, I upset him this afternoon."

"Oh, you said not his favourite daughter, is there someone else we don't know about?"

"No, it was a figure of speech. The old buzzard is trying to get me to stay home and look after him when he's well enough to leave hospital or a rehab place. I told him that I was going to continue my doctorate."

"Oh I see, what are you studying?" he suddenly became more friendly as if I'd become more valuable because I was doing a degree.

"Dormice."

"Dormice, how lovely, where are you doing it?"

"Portsmouth."

"Not with Agnew?"

"Yes, do you know him?"

"My own daughter is there doing her BSc."

"Oh yes," I smiled at him, "What's her name?"

"Harriet, but ever since those blessed books came out, she's called herself by her second name, Judy."

"Sorry, what books?" he'd lost me.

"Those Harry Potter books, we used to call her Harry."

"Oh yes those books," I smiled. I didn't mention the ribbing I got about the Rolling Stones with my old name. Then I thought maybe I would as it would show a good reason to change it, then I saw that could be a mistake, so I didn't.

"So are you involved in this new government survey thing?"

"The mammal survey, absolutely, I'm leading the rodent aspect of it, Bristol is doing Mustelidae." His look of uncertainty caused me to explain, "Badgers, otters and things like weasels and stoats. They're also doing foxes. Inverness are doing squirrels and wildcats. York is doing deer, and Prof Agnew is coordinating it all."

"So you'll be doing rats and mice and assorted other vermin?"

"Yep, although some mice are protected."

"They are?"

"Harvest mice."

"Oh, of course."

"I shall be setting up a team of researchers, as the dormice keep me busy by themselves."

"Yes probably the cutest of the rodents, eh?"

"Probably and one of the hardest to locate, which was the original attraction."

"Are you doing hares and bunnies?"

"No, they're lagamorphs not rodents. I think someone from London might be looking after them, can't remember."

"Right, Miss Watts, good luck with your research, keep an eye out for Judy, she may be able to help."

"I shall. Now what about these releases?"

He showed me the documents and it was only to pay off some bills and close up my mother's account.

"I thought you had to wait for six months in case any other creditors appear."

"Oh we will, but we can have everything ready to wind up before then."

"Are you sure I have the authority to do this?"

He looked over my letter of attorney as accepted by the bank, and asked me to sign. I did but with misgivings.

We shook hands and I left, he wished me success with my research and my voyage of self-discovery and if he could help, you know the stuff. I decided that I wouldn't use him if he was the last solicitor on earth, didn't like his patronising attitude until he discovered I was cleverer than he was. As for his daughter, she could go take a running jump if she was as creepy as him, Harry Potter, ha bloody ha!

It was nearly dark when I got home and I just wanted to go in and do a bit more work on my project before I set off to Portsmouth tomorrow. If I had time I would pop in and see my prof, I sent him an email.

He replied, 'Hi Cathy, glad you're managing some work as well as looking after your dad. I look forward to seeing your proposals for the survey. I'm still waiting for you to come to dinner with me, I could do with a pretty face to cheer me up and laugh at my jokes. I hope you have someone accompanying you on your survey work? It's different for girls, you know.'

Suddenly, everyone was an expert on being female, especially men who usually saw women primarily as sex objects. Maybe that was why they were warning me, in case people like them were about. At dead of night and in deep woodland, a bit unlikely. However, I was glad Simon was going with me tomorrow night.

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 108

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Fiction

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Other Keywords: 

  • More of the same
  • usual crap.

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

Easy As Falling Off A Bike.
by Angharad.
part 108. (That's like 9 dozen!)

I awoke with in a sweat, it was about two in the morning. Dashing downstairs, I caught my toe on a door frame and hobbled about, eyes watering and my mouth cussing the stupid frame for being there - if it wasn't the door would fall off, but that's not relevant to your entertainment.

A few minutes later when I could touch said toe, I decided it wasn't fractured and that I might live a bit longer. I limped carefully downstairs and after a frantic search which saw more oaths and bits being thrown all over the place, I located what I needed to see, my diary.

I dropped it in my rush and of course it hit the sore toe, so more cursing. Good job it was a detached house, otherwise the neighbours would be complaining about the nocturnal emissions! Mostly my swearing.

I had clean forgotten about my exam viva. Sure they were going to give me my masters, but I needed to show them it was my own work and also the possibility of grades could be discussed. I didn't think I was worth a distinction, but God this toe was throbbing.

I had remembered just in time, it was thursday morning. What planning that was, up half the night checking my dormouse boxes and then a viva exam at eleven the next day. Then a dash back to Bristol to see Dad. Good job I wasn't busy.

I made some tea as I was now wide awake and I took a pain killer. I was sat with an ice bag on my foot and a mug of tea in my hand. Somewhere in the middle of me was probably very confused.

I did get back to bed and set the alarm, I needed an early start if I was going to make bread and get down to Portsmouth. I actually set up the machine before I went back to bed, it would be ready during the morning. Then I went to bed and slept until the alarm disturbed me at seven.

Showered and dressed, I made breakfast and checked the bread machine, it would need another hour. I made Daddy some celery soup while I waited, and during the preparation, I also skimmed through my dissertation. I would need to have my copy with me to quote figures and percentages. I was hopeless at remembering them, in fact I avoided them as much as I could and got one of my colleagues to check them for me. He was a maths graduate who defected to zoology for his PhD. He'd have a surprise when he next saw me as we hadn't spoken for months.

The soup was ready, the bread was out of the machine and I was almost tempted to start picking bits off it. Instead I wrapped it in foil and popped it in my bag along with the flask of soup. I was at the hospital by eleven, too early to give my dad his lunch, but I needed to get away early. I explained to him that I had an exam to prepare for and he said he understood, or his mouth did, his eyes showed great disappointment and I nearly cried. I had to stop him getting to me like this. The sister agreed she would feed him his meal if she could have a piece of his bread. He nodded and she smiled. I muttered something about bribery and corruption and then we all laughed.

In twenty minutes I was heading towards Portsmouth and the university. I arrived at about three, parking was a nightmare, I'd need some sort of pass or it was going to cost me a fortune. I asked the office to sort it out for me as I'd be working there on this mammal survey.

"Who did you say you were?" asked the bimbo in reception.

"Cathy Watts," I felt like drumming my fingers on her counter, she was taking so long.

"I'm sorry, the only Watts I have here is Mister C Watts."

"They were supposed to have sorted that, it's a typo and I've been on at them for ages." I didn't feel I needed to explain things to her. "I mean, do I look like a man?" If she'd said 'yes' I'd have strangled her slowly, very slowly.

"Erm, of course not," she blushed, "I'll adjust the computer now."

"I'd be very grateful if you could, I've even spoken to the Dean about it."

"Have you?" She looked rather concerned, "I must apologise if it was our mistake."

"That's okay, so can you organise a car parking ticket?"

"It'll take a few days, is that alright?"

"I'm sure it will do. Thanks, I'll collect it next week?"

She nodded and smiled. I rushed off to the zoo labs. "Hi Neal, how's it going?"

"Oh hi Cathy, you look gorgeous today."

Wow, what's he after? "Thank you, just something I stole from Christian Dior on the way here. What's the grapevine saying?"

"They were buzzing with your appearance last week, that Jo woman has left now, her placement ended. So it's calmed down this week, most of the feedback I heard was positive."

"So if she's left, why all that fuss about toilets?"

"God knows, the others don't seem to be talking about it now, although I suppose when you are back it will be a five minute wonder."

"I suppose it will, anyway if they're criticising me they're leaving some other poor bugger alone."

"Very true girl, now what are you in for today?"

"Can I borrow a spare image intensifier, I've got some help with my nest box survey tonight."

"Oh I suppose so, you'll need to sign in blood in triplicate and give me your credit card number and life savings."

"That all?"

"Yeah, usual terms."

He handed me the item and I signed once for it in the equipment book. This should make Simon's evening. Great, I'm out with the man of my dreams, and what are we doing? Looking for bloody dormice! Wonderful, just bloody wonderful.

I checked the equipment was working, there's a dark room in the labs upstairs and kit which has been checked can save a lot of wasted time in the field. The techies are good but I check everything myself, I do with my bikes too.

Then it was up to the exams office and checking where and when I needed to be tomorrow. I knew the room and most of the panel, the external was from Bristol, should be interesting.

I went to exit the building when I bumped into my professor, quite literally, nearly dropping the equipment I was carrying. "What's this?" demanded the prof pointing at the carry bag for the intensifier, "You haven't broken another one have you?"

"I haven't broken any," I said indignantly.

"That's not what I have heard."

"I haven't," I protested.

"You know what the penalty for lying is, Cathy Watts?"

"No, but I haven't lied."

"It's dinner with an old fart."

"Tomorrow night, seven sharp at Runcorn's."

"I can't, I have to get back to Bristol."

"Can't or won't?"

"Does it matter?"

Just then my mobile went off. I excused myself and answered it. "Hello?"

"Cathy Watts?"

"Yes, who's that?"

"Sister Hansard at Southmead."

My stomach flipped, "Dad is okay, isn't he?"

"Yes, but we've got a D and V bug here at the moment, so we've suspended visiting, just thought I'd warn you."

"Am I likely to have caught it?"

"No it's not on our ward yet, but they're stopping all visitors for a few days."

"Fine, thanks for letting me know."

"I've explained to your dad, he seems to understand."

"Thanks."

I looked at Prof Agnew, "Is this black tie, tomorrow?"

"The only black tie I have I wear to funerals of students who refuse to dine with me."

"Oh, in which case, I'd better come then."

"Good girl. I knew you'd see reason."

"Blackmail and threats work every time, prof."

He laughed and walked back towards his office, I trotted back towards my car hoping they hadn't clamped me.

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 109

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Fiction

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Other Keywords: 

  • squirrels
  • pine martens
  • boogie men?
  • Dormouse / Dormice / Dormeece

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

If you go down to the woods tonight, you're in for a big surprise....!

Easy As Falling Off A Bike.
by wassername,
part lost count.

I drove back to my room remembering the camera I'd set up. Then the horrid letter that caused it. I wondered if I'd be any the wiser after I watched the record on the computer.

I got home, parked up and took my bags and equipment up to my room. Then I went back down to my mail box. The camera was still there and there were a few letters, some addressed to the old me and one or two for my current incarnation. The computer only showed the top of the postman's head, so someone or something had moved it. At one point a white something or other flashed across but other than that there was nothing.

I opened the post and there was another note from the tormentor.

'Think you're clever do you, bloody fairy. Do you know what happens to naughty fairies? They get their wings pulled off. See you around Tinkerbell.

An Illwisher.'

I watched the tape again, it had to be the white flash, they somehow saw the camera and avoided it with a piece of card or something. I put the first note with the second. Maybe I should tell the police? I had no immediate suspects, the two clowns I'd fought off with Simon perhaps? I doubted they had enough brain cells to notice a camera, let alone avoid it. No they'd have attacked me directly or put more crayon on my door. So who could it be?

My notoriety would be spreading, perhaps beyond the department, I hoped not as far as the press. I wasn't beseiged by them yet, so maybe they weren't interested or they hadn't heard yet. Not much I could do about it anyway, so I got on with sorting out what I'd wear.

Over the past few months, I'd been wearing the few womens' things I had to the woods. It was dark and it was the only chance I had to be me, until Stella hit me off the bike and changed everything. The jeans were womens', as were the shirt and sweater. The boots and waxed jacket were unisex. However, the knitted hat and gloves and my socks all new purchases, were very girly and I smiled when I saw them.

I walked down to the shop and chatted with my Asian shopkeeper, buying some fresh milk and some bread rolls. I looked for something to put in the rolls and opted for a tin of tuna. I hoped Simon liked it because it was what he'd be eating while we were out, and drinking my instant coffee. It can get quite cold at night, even in the woods and a snack and a drink are helpful in dealing with it. I grabbed some potato crisps as well, we'd dine like lords tonight, I joked to myself as I walked back.

My tea was a can of Oxtail soup and the spare bread roll, which I washed down with a cuppa. Then I prepared the picnic, four tuna rolls, crisps, chocolate and a flask of coffee. I packed them in the rucksack along with the hardback book I used to record all my data. It weighed a bit, being two hundred pages thick but the data was invaluable. I'd taken everything off the book and onto the computer but I kept up with the pen and paper records, because I could read them in the dark with my red headlight and not be blinded by it. Also the red light didn't seem to worry the wildlife.

I checked I had spare batteries for everything and collected the kit together. I washed and changed into my field clothes, pulling on the jeans and the blouse. It reminded me of times before Stella and I smiled. Things were so good now, and Mister Wonderful was coming to collect me in fifteen minutes, I smiled and thought how lucky I was.

I pulled on the ladies' trekking shirt, I'd got in a German supermarket which had opened in the town, for a few pounds. It fit perfectly, even better now my boobs were slightly bigger with the recent weight gain. Then the sweater, a wool-nylon blend in green with a crew neck. I tied a silky scarf around my neck and hoped that Simon would be adequately dressed.

Finally, I refreshed my lipstick, something I only used to do once I'd cycled to the woods. Goodness life was brilliant, this living the dream stuff, was great. Jacket on, I bent down to pick up the rucksack, gee whizz, it was heavy with a capital aitch. I opened it again but there was nothing I could remove, then I realised, once we were actually walking we'd have the image intensifiers in our hands not on my back, and once we drank the coffee, the bag would be a bit lighter. Maybe we could take turns to carry it?

I struggled down to the street after locking my door. Simon drew up as I plonked the bag down. He jumped out of the car and hugged me then kissed me, life just couldn't get any better! Then he picked up the bag like it was full of air and placed it in his car boot.

"I hope you'll be warm enough, it gets quite cold out in the woods."

"Don't worry about me, I've got my love to keep me warm," he joked.

"A good coat may be more reliable," I joked back.

"In the boot, young lady, just in case you fail to live up to expectations."

I blushed, was that simply innuendo or did he think we'd be having a naked romp under the stars. If he did he was going to be disappointed, I needed to get this done as quickly as possible tonight, so no gazing at the moon. I had an exam tomorrow which would be easier if I wasn't yawning.

We drove to the woodland and along a forestry track to which I had a key. This was magic compared to using a bike, especially with the jazz CD he was playing. Using an MP3 on a bike, isn't too brilliant, the wind noise spoils most of it. This was pure luxury and I could have gone off to sleep instead of doing field work. Simon pulled up where I indicated.

"We have a half a mile walk to my first nesting site, can we keep the conversation quiet, it makes all the little furry things run away."

He nodded and pretended to zip up his mouth. I opened the rucksack and pulled out the two image intensifiers and showed him how they worked. I also explained where the spare batteries were, although we should have been back before they ran out.

I explained what we were going to do, examine and count the residents of the various nesting boxes, then write up the data as we went along. I explained about the red light and so on. He understood everything, which wasn't hard even for an aristocrat with a degree.

We set off and he took the rucksack off me and pulled it on his shoulders. Wow, better still. I'd carry it back after we drank the coffee and ate the rolls, hee hee. The first site was the smallest and most easy to record, it only took an hour and Simon sat on a log and watched me working, climbing up trees and examining the boxes.

I had a small ladder which I stashed in a green camouflage bag and hid in a Cupressa leylandii tree. The forestry people knew all about it and had even spared the tree until I finished my study. Now it could run another three years, they might not be so happy. Maybe there'd be enough money to either fund a store of some sort, one of those steel thingies which could be set in concrete, or a 4x4 and then I could carry it all with me.

Simon was impressed with my agility in the dark, although with the image intensifier he could see me quite clearly. I used the red headlight mostly for the near stuff and the handling of the dormice, when I could catch them. I would come around one day time and look for remains of what they'd been eating.

We ate our rolls and drank some coffee, and moved on to the next site. Again he carried the rucksack and I toted the ladder, I knew when I was well off, usually I carried the lot. The second site was about a quarter of a mile away, or four hundred metres. Too far for the colonies to interbreed, or that was the perceived wisdom. I hoped DNA from faecal samples may prove otherwise.

I also had plans to introduce a new colony between two of the existing ones, using laboratory bred animals. We had permission to do it, but not until the spring. I'd identified the place I thought was most suitable with plenty of food for them and places to nest, I'd also put up nest boxes for them, which made keeping tabs on the little buggers, slightly easier.

We tend to think of them as dozy, hibernating away the winter or being stuck in tea pots a la Alice in Wonderland. When they are active, they can move quite quickly and through the top of the tree and bush canopy, scrambling and jumping from twig to twig, like minature squirrels. Well maybe not as fast as squirrels, who are slower than pine martens, but faster than field scientists can keep up with them! It's all relative, and once you've got caught up in brambles because you didn't look where you were going, and fallen over tree roots and down holes hidden by leaf mould, you exercise caution - sometimes.

We had just got to site two when my red light failed, I asked Simon for the new batteries as I knelt down to take it apart to fit them. I should have carried them in my pocket, but they were all in plastic boxes in the bag. It was very dark, there being little moon, and I sort of saw him lift up the bag in one arm and dig about in it with the other when he said, "Here, what's that over there?"

I heard a twig snap and presumed it was a deer. However, it soon proved it wasn't. There was a small flash and a bang and Simon flew backwards landing nearly on top of me. I screamed and I heard voices and footsteps running away.

He was groaning as he lay on the ground and my eyes filled with tears as I reached in my pocket for my mini maglite, my emergency torch.

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 110

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Fiction

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

Enter the cavalry!

Easy As Falling Off A Bike.
by Angharad.
part 110.

I switched on the torch and shone it on Simon's groaning body. I saw the blood and I screamed and screamed. Then as if someone had slapped me, I came to my senses. Now was not the time for these hysterics, I could do that once he was in hospital.

I pulled out my mobile and called 999. Once my brain was engaged it began to do things properly. I had grid references for this spot from long use of entering them on computers. I quoted them faultlessly. Once I mentioned gunshot wounds, they asked me to describe Simon's situation.

"He's lying on his back, he's bleeding from his mouth and there's blood on his chest. He's got his eyes closed and he's groaning."

"Okay, help is on it's way and police have been notified, keep talking to him, any change call us again. Keep talking to him, if you can keep him from slipping into unconsciousness, it will help."

I slumped down on the ground alongside the man I loved. I held his hand and talked to him.

"Simon, Simon come on lover, open those eyes and look at me."

I wiped the blood from his face, it wasn't coming so much from his mouth any more. Was that a good sign.? He coughed and some more blood came! Oh hell, he's been hit in the lungs.

I moved around behind him, resting his head on my knees and threw my coat over him, I knew I had to keep him warm. I kept talking to him and felt his breathing slow. Oh shit! The ambulance wouldn't have the keys to the forest gate. Fucking dormice, why couldn't I have stayed at home and looked after my dad, then this wouldn't have happened.

I kept talking to him, in the torchlight I couldn't really see his colour, nor could I feel his pulse in his neck, but he was still breathing so I assumed he was still alive.

I heard a helicopter circling overhead and for the first time I felt some relief, the searchlight was streaming through the trees and eventually it picked us up. It stayed hovering presumably to assist the rescue party.

Another helicopter arrived overhead and I wondered what was happening, then it circled around and I heard it making approach noises, like it was trying to land. There was a clearing a couple of hundred yards away, he was obviously trying to land there.

There were sirens in the distance growing louder as police 4x4s approached us, and at speed. The helicopter above us just hovered, the light wavering as the pilot tried to hold his exact position.

I looked at the scene, my rucksack was in pieces, bits of paper were everywhere, the image intensifier was in bits, one of Simon's shoes was lying near the bag, and there was coffee dripping out of the bag. It was a total shambles. I kept talking to Simon as I heard footsteps moving towards us. This time they were the good guys.

A second searchlight helicopter arrived on the scene and began sweeping the woods, looking or the perpetrators I supposed, but I wasn't sure. I didn't know they had two helicopters, maybe they'd got another force helping them?

A paramedic ran into our mess and quickly crouched down, "They still about?"

"No, I heard them run off when I screamed."

"Okay, let's have a look."

While he examined Simon, another ran up with a stretcher followed by three armed police, who took up positions to protect us. They had night sights on their guns.

"Right he's in shock, lets get him into the hospital," said the paramedic to his colleague and they loaded Simon onto the stretcher and strapped him on. Four of them then picked him up and ran to the chopper, the air-ambulance. One of the police asked me to stay, they would take me to the hospital as soon as they knew what had happened.

I explained who I was and what we were doing. That my light had faded and I asked Simon for new batteries and it just happened, bang and he was flying through the air nearly landing on top of me.

I pointed out from where the shot seemed to come, and he went off with a powerful torch to examine it. The helicopter shadowed him.

His colleague who had been listening, said, "What, you come here by yourself?"

"I have to, to collect my data. Usually, I feel quite safe. The first time I have an escort and this happens. It's all my fault." With that I burst into tears.

"Who is your friend?" asked the copper when I'd stopped wailing.

"Viscount Stanebury."

"Fucking hell! It's not is it?"

"You think I'd lie to you?"

"A genuine nob eh?"

"I beg your pardon?" I didn't like his tone even though he was supposedly on my side, protecting me.

"What?"

"He's a nice man, a real gentleman."

"Like him then, do you?"

"No, I love him," I sniffed.

"Oh okay love, I didn't mean anything."

I didn't believe him, but I wasn't going to make an issue over it. I heard more voices and footsteps approaching and into the scene of the incident. I glanced at the new arrivals, one was obviously an inspector or something, the others were plainclothes.

Once again we played twenty questions, as soon as I told them who Simon was, their level of interest increased.

"Is there any reason why someone should shoot at either of you?" asked the more important of the two in mufti.

"Not as far as I know, unless they don't like dormice."

"I don't think they shot at the dormice, did they?"

I shook my head. "Can I pick up my stuff?"

"Sorry miss, it's a scene of crime and a serious one, we need to do a full search in daylight."

I shrugged my shoulders, "Can somebody take me to the hospital, I'd like to see how Simon is and I need to call his sister."

"You're his girlfriend?"

"Yeah, he was taking me to see his parents on saturday. Oh hell!"

"Something the matter Miss?"

"Yeah, I have an exam at eleven o'clock, it was now approaching four."

"What university exam?"

"Yeah, the oral part of my master's."

He was about to say something when one of his men spoke into his radio. "We could have a lead on the shooters, sir."

The detective inspector took out his phone and dialled, "Take her to the hospital, will you?" he instructed one of his uniformed men, with whom I was about to leave when I spotted Simon's car keys.

"If I take these can I drive myself in his car?"

"Only if someone goes with you."

"Why?"

"Just do as I ask, please Miss."

"Okay," we walked towards the car park, me carrying the surviving image intensifier, and my torch.

"I'll drive Miss," said the young PC and I surrendered the keys without any argument.

"Can you use that thing to see how he is?" I asked as we sat in the car.

"Sure," he said and called his colleague at the hospital. After a short conversation, "he's in theatre."

"Oh hell!"

As we drove I tried to phone Stella but she wasn't answering. Was everything going to go 'tits up' tonight. I left messages on her voice mail and the ansafone at the cottage for her to call me urgently.

As I got to the hospital, I spotted her sitting in a side room off 'Admissions', I rushed in and we hugged.

"I've been trying to call you," I said sobbing.

"Sorry Cathy, they know Simon and called me from A&E. What the hell happened?"

I told her and then about the letters. Her face darkened, "Who the fuck is threatening you?"

"I don't know."

"Have you told the police?"

"No, I don't know if it's related. It's one thing to sent stupid letters another to shoot someone."

"You should tell them."

"The police thought they had a lead on the shooters, can we wait and see what that is first."

"If Simon dies, my father won't rest until he's paid back the perpetrator of this, this stupid attack."

"If Simon dies, he won't need to. I'll kill them myself." I surprised myself, the venom in my voice was so acid, it practically stripped the paint off the walls.

Stella gave me a startled look, then relaxed. "You really love him don't you?"

"Stella, I would willingly have taken the shot for him," then I burst into tears and she hugged me. "He's not going to die is he?"

"I don't know," she sniffed back at me and we both bawled the place down.

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 111

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Fiction

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

However a nurse came in and coughed politely, "Sorry to interrupt, but no sex until after I've done your blood pressure."

Easy As Falling Off A Bike.
by Angharad.
part 111.

Stella and I had nodded off to sleep when the nurse came in to tell us that Simon was out of theatre. I jumped out of the chair, for a moment not aware of where I was. Stella lazily opened her eyes and yawned.

"Well ladies, Simon is out of theatre and is asleep."

"Is he going to be okay?" I asked a split second before Stella could.

"Yes, he's going to live, the surgeon will be along in a moment to see you, he'll explain what he's done." She left.

"There's a coffee machine down the corridor, I'll go and get us a drink." Stella picked up her purse and went off. I sat yawning and trying to make sense of what had happened. It didn't make any, no matter how I tried, Simon still got shot and I didn't know why.

"Here," Stella handed me a styrene cup full of steaming grey brown liquid, not entirely the most enticing drink I've ever had, but it certainly helped me to wake up.

With impeccable timing, a thirty something black man came in wearing scrubs. "Hi, I'm Alex Rogers, I've just finished operating on Mr erm Lord Stanebury, is that right, a genuine aristocrat?"

"Fraid so," said Stella, "I'm his sister Stella and this is his fiancee Cathy." She gave me a strange look as she spoke and I said nothing nor reacted in any way other than to shake the surgeons huge hands. Hands which had been touching my Simon only minutes before.

"How is he Mr Rogers?"

"He's okay. I guess something else stopped most of the buckshot, he had several in his arms, the left one is broken by the way. He'd also bitten his tongue and has a concussion."

"But I saw lots of blood," I exclaimed.

"Yeah, he was a bit peppered in the chest, half a dozen shots, enough to damage his coat and allow seepage, and one of the veins in his arm was nicked, but it stopped by itself. I've tied him all back together and he's gonna need to stay in hospital for a few days, the shock of the shot cracked his sternum, so he is gonna be mighty sore for some little time and have quite a headache."

"So he's going to be all right then?" I gasped.

"Sure is unless your cooking gets him next time."

"Who told you about my cooking?" I said laughing, tears streaming down my face, my laughter only a degree below hysterical.

"None of you gentry can cook, we slaves used to do it all for you." He winked at us as he spoke, and I hoped it was a joke rather than a political crack.

"We're just poor working girls," interjected Stella, "I'm a poor nurse and Cathy is a student."

"What a student nurse?" he asked quizzically.

"No, a zoologist, she's doing her PhD."

"Oh!" he seemed impressed, "what on?"

"Dormice," continued Stella while I cringed, my life being exposed before me.

"Dormice? Like the Mad Hatter's Tea Party?" He said and I felt myself glazing over. Alice in Fucking Wonderland! Why is it always Alice in Wonder Fucking Land?

"That's the one." Stella smiled at him flirting gently.

"I think I might prefer White Bunny Girls," he said sexistly.

"They're an imaginary species," I challenged, "only existing in the minds of ageing American Porn Kings."

"Pity," he said shrugging his shoulders.

"Still keep in touch with Stella, she could be useful, she works in the GUM clinic!" I smiled innocently. Two could play nasty.

"Touche," he said and held his hands up in mock surrender, "One to Lady Dormouse." He looked at his watch, "Damn, I've got a clinic in three hours," he said and disappeared.

"What was that about me being his fiancee? A bit premature isn't it?"

"If I'd said you were his girlfriend he wouldn't have told you anything."

"Oh! Sorry, I didn't realise that."

"I suppose I'd better get home and get ready for work."

"You've been up most of the night!" I exclaimed.

"That's not my patient's fault is it. If I don't turn up, my colleagues all have to do extra. We're a team believe it or not."

"Yeah, I believe you, so if they want to send you home at lunchtime you go."

"I'll see."

"Will they let us see him?"

"If he's asleep, we'd only disturb him, he isn't going to die, so let's go and come back tonight."

I looked at my watch, it was half eight, I needed to get home and wash and change for my exam. Oh hell, I am so tired. "I've got his car, what about that?"

"Can you follow me back and I'll shower and change and run you back to your place. I'm going to be late, but they'll have to cope for an hour."

I agreed and went back in the Saab to the cottage. While Stella showered I made us some tea and some toast, Stella hugged me in thanks.

I was home by nine forty five, and in the shower minutes later. The shower revived me a little and I drank a strong coffee. I was going to cycle in, like I used to do, then decided against it. I wore the denim skirt and jacket with a vee necked white top and the bra boosters. Some makeup and my boots, what would I do without them, my bag and keys plus my research notes and data, and after a quick sqirt of something nicer smelling than a cyclist's shorts and I was off to my ordeal.

I hadn't said anything about my experience the night before but they all seemed to know about it. "How is Simon asked my prof?"

"How do you know about that?"

"Was on the radio this morning."

"What was?"

"A shooting accident in the forest, a dormouse researcher was hurt, he was said to be comfortable in hospital. Couldn't be you, so it had to be Simon, as you said he was going with you."

"Oh!" Was all I could say.

"It also suggested that the police were questioning two men about it."

"No one told me about that," I grumbled.

"So did you get any sleep?"

"I can't remember."

"That bad eh?"

"Yes," I felt myself tear up and it was only by dint of not wanting to look a helpless female at the exam, that I managed to control myself.

"Good luck, they know about last night so they'll be easy on you.I've told them nothing more than thumb screws. Then you can get off to bed for a few hours. I hope you're still on for tonight?"

"I don't know Prof, I want to see Simon."

"Well visiting is over by eight, so see you at the restaurant at eight thirty."

"I don't know," I didn't really feel like going out to dinner.

"Right that's settled. Go on over and wait, they'll call you in when they're ready."

I had about half an hour's wait, I felt in a very strange space, I was light headed yet could feel adrenalin kicking in every now and again. I knew that once it was over and I got home I would zonk into a semi coma.

My name was called and I picked up my bag and my data, "Here goes...." I said to myself, feeling like a Christian about to face the lions, except I wasn't. I was a female gladiator going to slay my opponent unless the emperor spared him. "My name is Maxima, Decima Meridia...." I whispered to myself improvising on the Ridley Scott film.

An hour later, three examiners were shaking my hand and saying, "Congratulations Miss Watts, an excellent piece of research," I walked out in a daze, the silly buggers had given me a distinction for counting bloody dormice! Oh well, home and sleep.

I drove home with a mantra of, "Stay awake until you get to bed." I think I managed it, because I awoke at three in the afternoon when the alarm went off. I'd agreed that Stella could go first to see Simon, then she could go home. I would go at four and stay until they threw me out about eight. Then dinner with the nutty professor, oh boy what it is to be a glamorous scientist! Ha ha!

I did dress up a bit, I wore a nice patterned skirt and matching blouse in a blue and pink pattern. No it wasn't one I bought to show a balance of sexuality, it was a Stella cast off and one from another Stella, the Beatle's kid dress designer. I didn't even think what it must have cost, I wondered if the estate was mortgaged to pay for her spending habits, then recalled that they each earned their own money. Simon was obviously good at his job, not just the bosses' kid.

My denim jacket did again, and grabbing my bag I went off to the hospital, managing to get a Finacial Times and a fishing magazine for Simon. I didn't know if he'd want to read or not, but they were less cliched than a bunch of grapes. Inside the bag, was a small bottle of Johnny Walker Black label. Well if my dad could have brandy, why couldn't Si have a nip of something too?

I found out the ward he was on without too much difficulty, and listened embarrassed as my heels clattered down the corridors. Finally, I found the ward and his bed was in a side room on his own. Was that preferential treatment or for his protection or what? But it would make his having a nip, a little easier.

I entered the room and he was asleep, his left arm in plaster and bruising about his face. I felt my eyes water, it was so painful watching this man I loved so much, injured because of me. I still felt guilty and needed his forgiveness more than anything else.

I sat at the foot of his bed and rested my head on my arm waiting for him to wake. He did, and before I did!

"Hi Sweetheart," I heard said from afar. "Wakey wakey!" Someone was talking to me, aargh!

I sat bolt upright and nearly fell out of the plastic chair. "Erm, hi," I managed to utter, I think, my way with words was overpowering some days.

"You look lovely when you're asleep," he said and I blushed, I also yawned and had to apologise. "Don't I get a kiss then?"

I apologised and pecked his cheek, he gave me a forlorn look and I kissed his lips, gently, he looked too frail for anything much and I did remember he'd hurt his tongue.

I put my arms around him and hugged him as tenderly as I would a new born, "I love you," I said before nearly drowning him in tears.

"Hey what's up, why the weeping, I am gonna live aren't I?"

"Of course," I said laughing.

"Oh good, I wondered if there was something I didn't know for a minute."

"No, you'll live," I confirmed.

"So why the tears?"

"I am so sorry," I said and began crying again.

"Why, what have you done?" he paused, "No not the Saab?"

"The car is okay," I said but was unable to stop the flood running down my cheeks.

"What have you done then?"

"It's my fault, you're in here, I am so sorry."

"Don't be so silly, I didn't get food-poisoning from the roll, I got shot remember?"

"I know," I said laughing at his joke, but still crying.

"Give me another hug you silly goose," he said, and I complied with his wishes, "Now, gi's a kiss and I absolve you of all blame." My lips caressed his, and despite my wet face, I felt wonderful and would have gladly held the moment forever.

However, a nurse came in and coughed politely, "Sorry to interrupt, but no sex until after I've done your blood pressure."

We both laughed embarrassedly, then Simon retorted, "You didn't give me sex the last time you took it, can I complain?"

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 112

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Fiction

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

Easy As Falling Off A Bike.
by Angharad.
part one hundred and a dozen.

I seemed to be spending more time in hospitals than Stella, who was paid for the privilege. Whilst the time spent with my father was a drag, no pun intended, staying with Simon was nearly over before it began.

I hugged him and kissed him and we talked, he nodded off, I nodded off and we hugged some more. They did blood pressures and temperatures, they checked dressings and gave him medication. They even gave him a meal while I was there, and me a cuppa.

I helped him feed himself, cutting up his food was difficult with one arm in plaster and the other bandaged, where the shot had penetrated his Barbour coat. It was quite a recommendation for the coat that so little had damaged him.

He couldn't remember much about it, except he was digging for batteries in my bag when everything went black. I began to realise that my Lowe bag was probably rubbish and the paper which had been floating about was bits of my data book. It had saved his life by protecting his chest, I could be at an undertakers now, paying my respects rather than sitting and joking with this man.

While I was there a policeman called by to take his statement. I left them for a few minutes, then he did mine as well. Afterwards, I asked him about the two men they were questioning.

"Are they the ones who shot at us?"

"Could be, they had shotguns. Forensics will tell us for certain."

"Do you know why they shot at us?"

"They said they shot at a deer."

"In which case, why didn't they come over to check?"

"They said they heard voices and ran off."

"Poachers?"

"Yes, they didn't have permission to shoot there."

"I should hope not, it's a nature reserve."

"Is it? I didn't know that."

"It actually says so although it isn't widely publicised otherwise we would have more visitors which can be a pain, especially when you have kids climbing up to see what's in the next boxes."

"And what's in them?"

"Birds, bats, dormice, occasionally other things."

"Like what?"

" I found a grass snake in one once?"

"What? A grass snake?"

"Yeah, frightened the proverbial out of me until I realised what it was."

"I know they can swim, didn't think they could climb."

"Neither did I. Made a nice anecdotal report in the Mammal Society's annual report."

The copper smiled. "I can't believe that a pretty girl like you goes out there on her own at night."

"Seems the only time I have trouble is when I have an escort." That was a conversation killer and we all reflected on it for a moment. Then I had a thought, "The shooters said they thought they shot at a deer?"

"So they said," he shook his head.

"If they saw the reflection of Simon's image intensifier, which can look greenish, they might consider they had a deer or other animal in their sights."

"Why do deer have green eyes then?"

"I don't know, but badgers do when you shine a light on them."

"Right, I'll try and speak to the officer in charge. See if that was mentioned."

"I mean if they meant to shoot us, why didn't they come and finish us off?"

"Yeah, we wondered that, maybe they just chickened when they recognised the enormity of what they were doing."

"I think thay should ban all guns, except for police and military."

"What about farmers and vets?" offered Simon.

"Maybe. But long sentences for anyone else caught in possession of one." I said showing my prejudice.

"I don't think they're that easy to ban. We've had a handgun ban for several years now and there are as many if not more around than ever."

"Can't think why anyone needs a gun, plus in the States research shows that if you carry a gun you are much more likely to be shot, than if you are unarmed." I was now on my hobbyhorse.

"Same goes for knives, kids who carry 'em are more likely to be stabbed." My police friend was definitely on my side, but then he'd probably had to deal with guns and knives, he was wearing one of those anti-knife waistcoat thingies.

The three of us chatted a bit longer until his radio went off and he took his leave rather rapidly.

"So you think they thought I was a deer, eh?" Simon said to me, his eyes sparkling.

"I think you're a dear," I said and kissed him, "Let's face it, you're far too big to be a pheasant."

"Me a peasant! Huh! I've never been so insulted in my life," his tone of mock indignation made me giggle.

"Stick around Simon, I'm sure I can top that some day."

"You horrible woman, I can't think what I see in you."

"No neither can I, anyway lover, it's nearly eight and I have to run off to be unfaithful to you."

"With whom, anyone I know?"

"I can't comment on that, then you'd have grounds to divorce me."

"Okay, I'll have my butler follow you and take photos."

"Compromising ones?" I asked.

"No, polaroid." He tried to keep a straight face but the pressure told and he laughed then groaned as it hurt his damaged chest and ribs.

I gave him a sexy kiss, and presented him with his paper, then the magazine and finally with a flourish, the bottle.

"Wow Cathy, beats Stella's grapes."

I kissed him again and said goodnight.

"Give my love to Professor Agnew," he called after me.

"Arggh, my secret is out." I said in mock horror.

"What, that you offered sex for a distinction?" he joked.

"Hush, don't tell everyone, they'll all want one."

A little later I related this conversation to Prof Agnew, who replied, "For a distinction? If I were you, I'd hold out for a doctorate. Someone as pretty as you would probably get one."

I blushed as red as the stuffed tomato I was eating, "Why does everyone think I'm pretty, I mean how can I be?"

"Why can't you be?" he asked quietly.

"Because I used to be a boy."

"Only on paper Cathy, you were a pretty boy with delicate features. Now you are a very striking young woman, who many would describe, and I include myself in that number, as beautiful."

"Somebody doesn't think so."

"What do you mean?" he asked looking puzzled.

I told him about the letters and my attempt to photograph the writer. His face changed to one of anger.

"Have you told the police about this?"

"Not yet."

"Why not, poison pen letters are a criminal offence?"

"I hoped it would die a death."

"But who would do such a thing?"

"I don't know. I'd almost prefer them to voice their disagreement, at least then I know who I have to convince they are wrong. Besides, everyone is entitiled to their own opinion, even if it is wrong."

"Have you met much dissent?"

"A little."

"Let me know who they are, I'll point out the university's policy on diversity and difference, and it's response to harassment or bullying."

"I haven't found it a problem yet, if it becomes one, I'll let you know. On the whole I'm prepared for the odd dissenter, provided they keep it verbal."

"No one has to suffer verbal abuse, it's a criminal offence."

"I haven't so far, just a disagreement over toilets."

"Oh jeez, who was that?"

"It doesn't matter, it's resolved itself."

"If you have a problem, let me know. I think the only time it was an issue before, the University Council decided that anyone changing their role full time, should be enabled to use the toilets of their new gender. If anyone found that a problem, the complainer was advised to use another toilet."

"Bit of a double whammy," I said in astonishment.

"Serves them right. After all, what can you see from a cubicle?"

I nodded at his observation.

"Right, what are you having for a main course?"

"I'm quite full already Professor, can I just wait until the dessert and I'll have something then?"

"Watching that lovely figure?"

"Not especially, I'm just not very hungry." In reality, while I enjoyed his company, all I wanted to do was to go home and sleep for a whole day.

"You look tired," he said as if picking up on my thoughts.

"Bit too much excitement, I guess."

"I didn't think my dinners were that exciting," he said winking at me. I knew then it was going to be a long evening.

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 113

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Fiction

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

Life doesn't seem to come easy to Cathy, and when it does she doesn't believe it.

Easy As Falling Off A Bike.
by Angharad & Bonzi Cat.
part one hundred and unlucky for some, thirteen.

My evening with the professor was a long one. Essentially it's purpose was to persuade me to do the pictures they required for the posters and leaflets.

I argued that it could backfire on them, if my background were to become known, the press would have a field day. He didn't seem to think so. I stuck with my original view and agreed to nothing. As I was driving back to my room, I couldn't drink, so all in all it wasn't the best night out I'd ever had.

"Why can't you ask Bristol or York if they have someone photogenic they could use?"

"The bank appears to want you."

"Is that because I'm having a relationship with the Chairman's son?"

"Are you? I didn't know Simon was Lord Stanebury's son."

"Yes he is, so what would the tabloids make of that?"

"I have always agreed with the Duke of Wellington on one thing," he sipped his coffee.

"I'll bet it has nothing to do with Waterloo, "being a close run thing,",I offered.

"You'd have won your bet, young woman, it doesn't."

"Publish and be damned," I said feeling my stomach flip over.

"Give that lady a coconut," he said pointing at me.

"I think his social standing may have given him the edge on me, plus having had affairs with several high-status females, especially ones with whom Bonaparte also had affairs, may have actually enhanced his reputation. Being labelled as transsexual in the local rag is unlikely to do much for mine, let alone Simon's."

"It was he who wanted you and your furry vermin on the poster."

"My furries aren't vermin, they're a protected species."

"Okay, protected vermin." He was deliberately winding me up and as usual, I was falling for it. Why did I never see it coming until I had become annoyed? It was a real blind spot, just like hunting, I got angry very quickly. I found the arrogance of humans towards other creatures to be insufferable, especially as it was based on religious grounds at one time and had progressed from there. To me 'owning' a fellow living creature was like having slaves, morally abhorrent. We could be responsible for other creatures because they didn't appear to have our levels of sophistication. But ownership is something I do with inanimate objects only. I can own a bike but not a dog or cat, they could be my pets or companions but my chattels - no.

I was a little lost in my own world of subjective values when the professor nudged me under the table. "Oh!" I jumped.

"I began to wonder if you were doing some self-hypnosis in order to stay in my company? Am I that poor a dinner host?"

I blushed. "Of course not, you're a lovely companion, I'm just tired after last night and then the exam today."

"Of course you are, my dear. How selfish of me to keep you from your bed, although I'm envious that I won't be getting into it with you." He winked, implying that it was simply his joke, except that I suspected it was true. It astonished me that anyone could find me sexually attractive, especially when they knew the truth.

It worried me a little about Simon, although he had supposedly fancied me before he knew, which had amused Stella so much. The professor had no such an alibi, he knew from the beginning, so was he bisexual? It was of course none of my business, but that didn't stop me from wondering.

I got home at midnight and after hanging up the dress dived into bed and fell asleep in moments. I would still have been there if the doorbell hadn't been ringing so loudly.

I had combined it into a dream, I was desperately trying to find which room in this huge building was the toilet, and a ladies' one. Then I was startled to hear the fire alarm, and was racing around the place trying to find the loo and the fire exit. I needed to go very badly and it would be just my luck to burn to death with a full bladder.

Eventually, consciousness won and I awoke, stumbling to the loo while calling to door to 'hang on a second'. The flush was still running as I opened the door. I squinted through bleary eyes at Stella.

"Cathy, why aren't you dressed?"

"What time is it?"

"Seven-thirty, I thought we were going to Bath?"

"What for, as Simon is in hospital, I'm not gonna meet your parents, am I?"

"Yes you are, they're coming down tomorrow to see him and are taking us to dinner afterwards."

"Oh bugger!" I said and let her in.

"Come on get yourself showered and dressed, I'll put the kettle on."

"I'm not going." I decided to dig my heels in.

"Yes, you are now get yourself into gear."

"Stella, I know what I am doing and going to Bath, is not one of them."

"What?"

"I am too fucking tired to go anywhere, besides I don't want to."

"But what about tomorrow?"

"What about it?"

"Wouldn't you like something new to wear to meet my father and step-mother?"

"Not really. If they can't take me as I am, then I'm afraid they'll have to leave me. Dressing me up in designer clothes won't turn this sow's ear into a silk purse."

"Don't you want to meet them?"

"I'll willingly meet them and stay polite and courteous to them because they're your parents."

"Okay, what's wrong with them?" she went on the defensive.

"Nothing, as far as I know, I just think I shall be out of my depth with them. They're sophisticates I'm not. Until I met you, the only designer label I had was on my cycling shoes."

She thought that was hilarious and laughed loudly. "Don't be silly, they're no more sophisticated than you, just richer."

"I don't know one end of a canape from the other and as for hors d'oeuvres, well I'm a total ignoramus."

"We won't be having either of those tomorrow."

"If we were I wouldn't know anyway. I don't operate in those rarified circles." I could feel myself getting hotter as I became more embarrassed.

"My father will absolutely love you." She beamed a very superior smile at me and I wanted to slap her.

"How can you possibly know that?" I challenged.

"How can you say he won't?" she countered and I knew she had me there.

"I'm a prole who disapproves of capitalist excesses and....."

"He disapproves of it too," she smiled.

"But he has how many homes?"

"He only lives in one, the others have to pay their way."

"By slaughtering wildlife," I said moving away from her gaze to make the tea.

"Not wildlife, but birds bred for shooting. He gets very angry if anyone harms wild birds on the estate."

"It's a different world," I said feeling out-gunned by her, so how was it going to be like with her father.

"What has that got to do with it? He's only a man, a rather wealthy one, I'll admit, but a man nonetheless."

"So what are you trying to tell me?" We both sat at the table and began drinking our tea.

"Look, when he found out that Simon was going out with someone, he contacted me for a report."

"Oh my God!" I groaned and held my head in my hands, "He'll have detectives on to me next. Et tu, Stella."

"I didn't betray you, Cathy. All I told him was that I had met you, that you were a very clever and beautiful lady and I liked you. He said he wanted to meet you."

"Why? It's arguable that Simon and I are barely dating, we've only been out a few times. It's only a few weeks since you tried to kill me. Why should he want to meet me?"

"I told him you rode racing bikes."

"Yeah, so?"

"He did in his youth, he still rides occasionally. So anyone who rides a bike has got to be okay?"

I felt as if I was digging myself deeper into my hole, Stella easily countered everything I said.

"Why did you tell him I was clever?"

"You're doing a PhD for Chrissake, you're hardly a moron are you?"

"I haven't got it yet, I might not."

"Oh come on, Professor Agnew thinks you will. They gave you a distinction for your master's, you are pretty bright however much you deny it. As for the false modesty about your looks, well," she rolled her eyes, " it's all false modesty. You just like to soak up the praise."

I felt my eyes begin to water and a drop of scalding brine ran down my cheek and dripped onto my lap. Stella spotted the next one and realised she had gone too far. She looked sheepish for a moment.

"I'm sorry, Cathy," she went to put her arm around me and I pushed her away. "I forget you're rather new to all this, you seem so natural at it."

Her comments weren't helping the wound she had inflicted a sentence or two before. I was so happy to be who I felt I was meant to be, but coping with the reactions of others was a new experience. Being found desirable after a lifetime of disappointing others, was baffling to me. It was lovely, I think, but I didn't trust it, because they could denounce me in a moment too.

I wasn't into false modesty. My modesty was real and genuine because that was how I was brought up. Do my best but not give way to flattery or conceit. Praise didn't happen in my world. How could I tell that to someone who had probably spent her whole life being told she was special by someone who had also been told the same and believed it.

I was only special because I was a freak, one of a tiny number of people who thought they were in the wrong body. I wasn't special, I was weird, so how could anyone find me attractive let alone love me? Not unless they were a bit strange themselves. Add to this, I was damaged by my parents with no self-esteem and probably other flaws and I am bad news to any sort of relationship. I didn't know what Simon could see in me, so what the hell could his father want with me except to warn me off. I was becoming frightened of him and didn't want to meet him at all.

"Can you give my apologies to your parents, I can't do this."

"Yes you can, I think you'll actually like my dad."

"I don't want to do it."

"C'mon Cathy, it will be fun, you'll see."

"But I don't want to, why doesn't anyone ever listen to me? I don't bloody well want to, is that clear?" I slammed my mug onto the table and ran into the bathroom, slamming the door after me and locking it. I sat on the toilet seat and wept.

"Cathy, please come out," she called through the door, knocking gently on it.

"Go away," I shouted back and cried some more.

"If that's what you want." I heard her shut my front door.

Now I really was depressed, I had nearly got the man I loved killed in a shooting accident, then driven away his sister, one of the only friends I had and an incredibly jealous one. I didn't deserve to be happy, I was a total waste of space. Maybe things would have been better if they had shot me instead and finished my misery, instead of my lovely man?

I stepped out of the door and started when I saw Stella sat at my table reading my master's dissertation. "This is very good you know," she remarked turning over a page.

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 114

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Fiction

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

Easy As Falling Off A Bike.
by Angharad.
part lost count.

"I thought you'd gone." I stated feeling very surprised, Stella seemed to out manoeuvre me at every turn.

"Who me, nah, are you making any more tea?"

"So who shut the front door then?"

"I did, I was going to leave but changed my mind."

"Why?"

"Because I wanted to apologise and talk to you."

"Apologies accepted, but I'm not sure I want to talk to anyone at the moment."

"Okay, then you can listen." Before I could say anything, she added, "and while you're at it make some more tea."

"Yes your Majesty," I said making a curtsey.

Until I was sat back at the table with a steaming mug of tea in front of me, and one in front of Stella, the only conversation was banter.

"Now I don't want you to interrupt, just pin back your lug-holes and listen." I nodded and pretended to zip up my mouth. "Do that and you won't be able to drink your tea, now behave and listen.

When I first met you, I wasn't quite sure who or what you were, and you were kind enough to confide in me your true status, which was female. It seemed you were overwhelmed by someone who wasn't fazed by your revelation, and you opened up to me even more. I still feel very privileged to have been one of the few people who know the full story.

I'm also privileged to be involved in the emergence of a beautiful butterfly from the caterpillar I first met. I'm not given to complimenting other women unless it is true, you are turning into a very beautiful woman. You are also growing into the role very nicely. So nicely, that at times I forget you aren't a full female yet, it's very easy because you are so natural. But you are also inexperienced and that shows at times. However, that will all come with time and practice.

You have also become a good friend to me in a very short time, who also happens to be more or less the same dress size, which is useful for dumping my old clothes." She winked at my goldfish impression.

"However, you have become important to Simon, which has another facet to my relationship with you. It is nice for me to have my brother going out with a friend of mine because I get to see you more often and Simon encourages our friendship. So everyone benefits.

Simon has gone for you in a big way, bigger than anyone else I can think of and whilst that may be a mixed blessing, I believe you feel as deeply for him."

I found myself beginning to tear up again and nodded at her statement.

"I honestly believe you two are good together, and while it's early days to be talking about a long term relationship, it's possible."

I shrugged my shoulders, who could say?

"In fact, Simon has been with you longer than most of his other dates. Okay, we can't read too much into that, but it has to be a positive thing. Of course our father, who isn't in heaven but Hampstead, it's like heaven but dearer, has been wanting to see him settled down with someone for ages. So, he wants to meet the woman who is having such a beneficial affect upon his son. He is also intrigued by the descriptions of this lovely, young woman. He may be my dad, but he's also a man, if you get my drift. I don't mean you can't trust him, he'll flirt given the chance but that's all. My step mother has him firmly under control."

Somehow this pep talk was still making me nervous of meeting her dad, who was an aristocrat and a roue. I don't want that sort of attention, Simon is enough for me and because he knows, I can relax with him. My female social skills were far from developed yet I felt I was being steam rollered into meeting with Lord and Lady Stanebury. I was very conscious that I was relatively gauche compared to them and worried I might commit a faux pas and have it reflect on Simon.

"So I would like you to meet with them. They are actually very nice, even though I say so myself, once you meet my dad, you'll see where Simon gets it from, the charm I mean."

I decided as she paused that I had listened enough, "Look it's all very well to tell me all this but it doesn't stop me feeling uncomfortable. I am not at all sure it's a good idea and I should hate it to reflect upon Simon, just because I prove to be a prat."

"Simon isn't going to be there is he? So how can you embarrass him?"

"They might discharge him from hospital," I said defensively.

"If they did, he would be at home and fast asleep. He won't be out and about for weeks."

"Oh!" I deferred to her superior medical experience. Then when I considered his injuries, it was rather obvious. He wouldn't be able to come out to play for some time. But that could mean I get my proposal finished more quickly, except I shall want to nurse him, damn, I hadn't thought that through and what about my own father? Would I have time to breathe with all this hospital visiting? I was going to have to organise myself!

"Right Cathy, please go and shower and dress and we can go and grab a bite somewhere then go and see the prodigal son."

"Is he prodigal?"

"Yeah, sort of, he and my dad fell out when Dad told us he was getting married again. It took them a few years to come back together."

"Don't tell me with your mediation?" I offered, impressed with her negotiating skills.

"My step-ma helped too, she wanted us to work as a family."

"And do you?"

"A dysfunctional one." She laughed, "We're like the Simpsons on steroids!"

The concept of anything that awful was so funny that I laughed out loud and then began to giggle, so did she. It was several minutes before we had things back under control.

I showered and dressed, tidily enough for lunch and off we went. Stella insisted on driving, she had the Saab. If Simon knew, he'd be very uneasy, he was when he learned I'd been driving it.

Of course we ended up at the shops and she practically twisted my arm off to buy a new outfit or three. I bought a rather slinky dark green velvet dress, which with the right sort of accessories could be a smart day dress or even a cocktail one in the evening, except no one I know does cocktails. I hope it stays that way.

I bought a lovely embroidered blouse in Laura Ashley and skirt in Oasis. Then in Wallis, I saw a winter coat I really fell in love with, a rich red greatcoat style coat. Stella was very taken with it.

We had lunch and chatted, then it was off to the hospital and Simon. How was he going to cope with both of us?

On the way to see him, I called Southmead and they were still in isolation with the 'Noro B' virus or something like that, a nasty diarrhoea and vomiting illness, with projectile vomiting! Yuck. Dad had stayed clear of it so far, but he wasn't as well not seeing me. I thanked the nurse I spoke to and asked her to tell him I had phoned.

When we got to the ward, we had a meeting with the doctor and ward sister about Simon, who was nagging them about going home. Stella then volunteered to take a fortnight off to have him come home, if I would do the weekends, to give her a break. I could hardly refuse, could I? However, this wouldn't start until next week as they wanted to observe him a little longer.

Stella handled Simon with great skill, she was a real negotiator and always got her way, running rings around her older sibling. He agreed to keep quiet for a few more days and she would consider applying for some outstanding leave and I would cover for her at weekends, to give her some time off.

Once Simon heard that bit of the deal, he agreed to it immediately asking for it in writing. We stayed for an hour and a half, by which time he was quite tired and began nodding off. We took our leave and Stella dropped me off at my room, dreading the following day and her parents.

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 115

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Fiction

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

Cathy has an encounter on the stairs and a poor night's sleep.

Easy As Falling Off A Bike.
by Angharad.
part 115 (that's 12 x 9.58333' for other dozen fetishists).

As I walked up the stairs to my room, rapid footsteps were coming down, they belonged to the two hooligans with whom I shared the building. "Well look who has deigned to come back," said BigMac.

I felt a little afraid of him with Simon in hospital.

"And without the boyfriend to protect you," he laughed and so did his sidekick.

I decided to just try and brazen it out and began to attempt to push past them. The sidekick moved to block my way. Looking at my shopping bags, BigMac said, "Ooh, Wallis and Laura Ashley, only the best for our little girlfriend here."

"Excuse me," I said trying to manoeuvre past sidekick, he just moved to block me. I was still frightened about what they might do and decided that attack might just be the best form of defence.

I switched my bags to my left hand, if they had any brains they might have seen what was coming, they didn't to either. "Excuse me," I said loudly and they both just laughed. With that I grabbed hard at the groin of sidekick pulled and twisted, throwing him into the arms of his larger friend, squealing as he went. "I did try to be nice," I said and walked on up the stairs.

It was a high risk strategy but it seemed to work as the smaller one was still whimpering and his friend laughing at him, as I walked up the stairs to my room. It was only when I got there and safely locked the door that I could laugh too. That was twice I had bested him, once when he jumped on Simon and I tried to implant his head in the pavement, and now. Either he would now give me a wide berth or comeback harder. I hoped it was the former.

I had a cuppa and despite laughing earlier, I noticed my hand was actually shaking as I tried to drink the tea. I hung up my newest clothes and went to the fridge, it was pretty well bare unless I wanted the remains of a piece of mouldy cheese and some cream crackers. I needed to go to the shop.

I had a cloth bag which was quite substantially made, and I put my purse in it. I also put in a paperweight, a piece of polished Portland stone, it made a suitable defensive weapon if needed. Then very warily, I stepped out of my door and down the steps.

My defence wasn't needed and I spent a few minutes chatting to my shopkeeper about all sorts of things. I bought some mushrooms and eggs plus a few potatoes, more milk and some chocolate. Then back to my room, planning on an omlette for my meal. I absent mindedly checked my mail box and found a couple of things.

The stairs were clear this time, they'd presumably gone down the union or some pub. I put away my shopping and looked at my post, my stomach flipped as I recognised the writing on one of them. I put it down and picking up my rubber gloves from the sink donned them before opening it.

'Some girls never learn, but then you're not a girl are you?

An ill-wisher.'

I put it with the others and placed them in a clean plastic bag I have to put sandwiches in. This time I kept the envelope as well, although it had been sent by Royal Mail. "Much more of these and I shall visit the police," I told myself. In reality, I had no idea who it was and while I accepted they didn't like what I was doing in transitioning, and they had a right to that view, sending nasty mail is illegal. I shuddered when I wondered what sort of mind would bother with such a hate-mail campaign, I was pretty sure it wasn't my two fellow residents. It seemed they still didn't know my past, and it was too sophisticated for them. No this looked like the work of another woman, but who?

I checked my webcam in the mailboxes, it continued doing it's job and I had another flash of the postman's bald head as he placed my mail in it's receptacle.

I made my meal and ate it. I was washing up when my mobile rang. I half dreaded it ringing in case it was bad news about my dad or Simon. It was Stella, you'd have thought that after she spent all day with me, she'd have been talked out, but apparently not. She yacked on endlessly about nothing in particular and I wondered about telling her of the latest poison pen letter. In the end I didn't, and when I cautioned her that my battery was going to run flat, she said, "Oh yes, I'll pop around about eleven and do your hair for you."

Before I could answer my phone went dead. I looked for the charger, but it wasn't where I normally kept it. That in itself annoyed me, because I usually put things in their place. In a small dwelling like mine, it was essential to keep things tidy or there was no space.

I searched high and low and could not locate it. I therefore assumed I'd taken it up to Bristol. I did have a kit I could charge from the cigarette lighter in the car, in the glove box of the car, so I pulled on a jacket and nipped down to the car. It only took a few moments to set up, and I hid it under the seat while it charged up.

Normally, something like this wouldn't worry me, but tonight I felt spooked. I almost got in the car and drove over to Stella's to be with someone, but she'd told me she was going out. I had little alternative but to go back to my room and lock it up. I used my security device, the scaffolding pole against the door, and waited for the morning to come.

I had things I could do but they were essentially distractions. Washing out my underwear, doing a few emails that sort of thing. I even went into an online chat room and spent an hour talking to other transgender people.

I used the nickname of 'Minnie Mouse' which was close to my little furry friends without being too close to link back to me. I discussed how others coped with difficult people, not those who rejected us, that was their right but those who attacked us, verbally or otherwise.

After listening to the experiences of others, I thought myself quite fortunate. In reality, the only difficulties I'd had were from the poison pen writer and a couple of remarks in college. Most others seemed to accept what they saw. I suppose I was lucky really, I passed reasonably well while some of the other conversants, didn't apparently. One showed a picture of herself, to me it looked like a man in makeup and a wig, although I couldn't bring myself to comment, I could see how they might have problems with youths.

I mentioned my nasty letters and they all said I should go to the police. I admitted that I was fortunate in being quite passable, but declined from showing a picture. I didn't actually have one and if I had I wouldn't have shown it. When they badgered me some more, I managed to find one of the Walt Disney character and posted that. Thankfully they all found it funny. Then I signed off.

I was going to the bathroom when I first heard it, a small scratching sound. Thinking it was mice, I stopped to listen, it wasn't and it was coming from my front door!

I shuddered, it was coming from my door. It sounded like someone was trying to undo the screws in the lock on the door. I listened, and it was certainly coming from that place.

I quietly checked the pole, it was solid and without some form of axe or battering ram, they wouldn't get in. However, I was going to have an uncomfortable night by the sound of it. I grabbed the large screw driver and after changing into my tee shirt and jeans, went and lay on the bed.

I did manage some sleep, but it didn't feel like it. I woke at about ten and after showering and slipping on some fresh jeans and tee shirt waited for Stella to arrive. I was nodding off as the door bell rang and it jolted me awake.

"Stella?" I called.

"Yes, who else are you expecting?"

I moved the bar and opened the door, she motioned me out and pointed at my door. Hanging there was a large bra with a message scrawled on the door in felt pen, 'Santa please fill these for me, cos mine won't.'

It was swinging freely on the door from a draught caused by an open window. That was the scratching I could hear. It was probably the retaliation I had half expected from the boys along my corridor. I removed it and cleaned off the graffito.

Stella wasn't impressed with their idea of a joke and it was as much as I could do to stop her protesting to them. I then told her what happened on my way up the stairs and she laughed.

"Come on girl, we've got to get you looking beautiful for your prospective in-laws."

"Stella, until I am legally reassigned as female, I can't marry anyone, especially Simon. That is a long way off, and many gallons of water will flow under the bridge before then. So don't hold your breath."

"It's all just technicalities," was her response.

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 116

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Fiction

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

Cathy meets the in-laws?

Easy As Falling Off A Bike.
by Angharad.
part 116.00000000000000000000000000000000

If Stella was half as good at nursing as she was with hair, she would make Florence Nightingale look a total amateur. She trimmed my hair and styled it, much as before but a little of a wave in it. I knew that I wouldn't be able to restore this after I next washed it.

"Next weekend you're down to look after Simon, so I'll put some new highlights in your hair."

"If you've got time," I agreed.

"Yeah, I'll make time for my Sis 'n law," she giggled and I tried not to respond because it would only encourage her. But try as I might, her laugh was infectious and soon I was cackling too.

"What are you going to wear?" she asked having finished my hair and sipping the tea I'd made.

"I thought jeans and a sweatshirt, I mean it isn't formal is it?" It was an attempt at a wind-up, which I suspected would fail miserably.

"If they are by Armani or Dior, that's fine," she countered.

"So British Home Stores best and Top Shop won't do then?"

"Sadly not," she said her arms folded and her foot tapping in mock irritation.

"I have some designer gear your dad would like," the snigger I made gave the game away.

"I suppose this has 'Saunier Duval' on the front of it?"

"No, 'Nike' but you were close. It's a little black number." I continued to tease her.

"It's a cycling shirt?"

"Awwwww you guessed," I threw up my hands in pretend disappointment.

"Follow me," she said marching into my bedroom.

"This with black shoes and bag, and hurry about it," she glanced at her watch, "Yes get a move on girl or we're going to be late."

It still gave me a buzz to be called a 'girl', even by Stella who knew my origins. I picked up the green velvet dress and pulled it on, she stepped behind me and did up the zipper. "You look really nice in that," she said stepping back to admire the view.

I slipped on a silver neck chain and matching bracelet, that were originally my mothers. It felt good to have something of hers with me at times, I still missed her but tried not to dwell on it. I still didn't know if she would have understood or not. I knew damn well my father didn't, he tolerated me because he needed me. I tolerated him because I loved him, he was my dad.

I did my makeup quite quickly, and Stella nodded her approval. "You're getting the hang of makeup pretty quickly."

"I had a good teacher," I smarmed back and she poked her tongue out at me. A quick spray of smellies, this time Anais Anais, I grabbed my bag and my black jacket and we left.

I got my phone from the car en route to the Saab, of which Stella seemed to have claimed ownership. Simon won't be too happy if he knew, I thought, but at least I didn't have to drive.

It seems incongruous to think I was introduced to Lord and Lady Stanebury over a hospital bed. They were already there when we arrived, Stella had noticed his large black Audi in the carpark and pointed it out to me.

"Wot no Roller?" I huffed in feigned surprise.

"Do you know how expensive those things are to run? A few miles to the gallon! He's got an even larger Mercedes as well, but it's expensive to run, so he potters about in the Audi, she has one of the little ones, the TT or whatever they call them."

I knew what she meant, a car beloved of old men who are trying to rekindle some flagging libido or women who need to announce their importance to the world. I was more than content with my little A class Mercedes and my Scott.

We chatted idly as we wove our way to the ward where Simon was already talking with his parents. We walked in our heels clicking in unison upon the linoleum floors. Stella saw her father look around and called, "Daddy, Monica," then upped her pace to give her father a huge hug, then a smaller one to her stepmother. I trailed behind, feeling like a condom in a fertility clinic.

Simon saw me, and held out his hand and I rushed to hold it. "Dad, Monica, this is Miss Cathy Watts, dormouse connoiseur extraordinaire. Cathy, this is my father and stepmother."

Holding on to his hand with my left hand I shook hands with my right first with his lordship and her ladyship. "Henry Cameron, at your service," he bowed and kissed my hand." I blushed as deep as the crimson top his wife was wearing. "You are every bit as beautiful as your description."

If it was possible to blush more than I already was, I was doing it. I was giving off enough heat to start a nuclear fusion experiment. While squeezing Simon's hand almost to the bones cracked, I had just enough brain cells functioning to think, that he was every bit as much a charmer as his reputation suggested.

"I wouldn't believe all you hear, Lord Stanebury," I said still blushing.

"Normally I would agree with you one hundred per cent, but not in this case, if anything you exceed your description." At this point Stella coughed loudly, "As do you my lovely daughter."

"Father, late as ever," she said rolling her eyes.

He shrugged his shoulders and his eyes twinkled at his daughter and something magical passed between them, something unsaid but implicit to both of them. I felt jealous, this was unlikely to ever happen between my father and me.

"I do like your top, Lady Stanebury." I tried to bring her into the conversation.

"Thank you Cathy, and do call me Monica." She looked a little more happy after being included.

"Oh God yes, I'm Henry and she's Monica and this little dumpling is Stella and that useless lump, lying on his backside, is my my son wotsisname?" They all laughed at this but I felt it was a little cruel.

"I'm afraid that's my fault."

"Why you didn't shoot him did you?" asked Henry.

"No, no of course not." I blushed again.

"Good, you'll need to get in the queue my lovely, and I'm first. Eh laddie." He said to Simon. Then they all roared again, so much so that one of the nurses came over to see what the noise was all about. She politely chided us and went back up the ward.

"Right I believe we have a luncheon appointment with these two lovely ladies. So my boy, get better soon or I'll sack you." The twinkle was in his eye again as he spoke to Simon.

"You couldn't afford to do that Dad, I make you too much money." Simon squeezed my hand.

"Perhaps," muttered the peer, "I'll keep you on a bit longer then." Then he patted his son on the head, Monica kissed Simon on the cheek and they went off with Stella leaving Simon and me alone.

"Come back and see me this evening if you can escape my awful family."

"I'll do what I can," I said and kissed him longingly.

"Better still stay here and do that, I'll get better a lot quicker," he said breathlessly.

I reluctantly took my hand from his and blowing him a kiss almost ran down the ward back towards the car.

"He needed the kiss of life and no one else would volunteer," I said
jumping into the car.

"I don't blame them, I certainly wouldn't," Stella replied, "Did the patient make it?"

"I think so, but his position is critical."

"Yeah, that's his problem."

"What is?" I asked.

"Being over critical." She snorted and started up the car.

"Where are your parents?"

"What call me Henry, etcetera?"

"Is there something wrong?"

"Oh no, you are well in there, either the old fart has mellowed beyond description or he likes you."

"Oh!" was all I could say.

"Oh he's a charmer, so take no notice of him, he loves to flirt but Monica will stop him getting too boisterous. He's a bit like a randy labrador and she keeps him on a short lead. So you're in no danger. But at the same time I wouldn't encourage him, or you'll make an enemy of Monica for life. Not a good plan, she resembles an elephant in more than just looks."

"She resembles an elephant, I thought she was quite an elegant lady."

"Yes but didn't you notice the proboscis, her trunk. Simon and I always smile about it."

"No I didn't think her nose was that big."

"It isn't now, she had it made smaller, plastic surgery. Still, she gave you a good once over."

"Did she, I didn't notice."

"Oh yes, it seems you passed muster and bringing her into the conversation was definitely worth a few brownie points. She won't forget that, so you have a good standing in the stakes for Simon's paw in holy deadlock."

"You keep marrying me off, we hardly know each other yet!" I protested.

"No but I do know Simon."

"I should hope so being his sister."

"And I also know the pair of harpies you just met, everyone they meet is viewed as suitable matrimonial material."

"I hope not, maybe I should put them straight on that."

"What are you going to say, 'Sorry I can't marry him until I finish my gender transition'? Somehow I don't think it would go down too well."

"No just say my career comes first and I'm a bit busy for the next two or three years."

Stella just giggled, "We're here," she noted as we drew into the car park of the biggest hotel in Southsea.

"I've never been in here before," I said as we got out of the car.

"Cheapskate," offered Stella.

"Eh?" I looked very confused at her.

"The bank owns this chain of hotels, he gets a significant discount when he uses it."

"Oh!" I goldfished, I had a lot to learn about big business.

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 117

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Fiction

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

Cathy gets to know the family!

Easy As Falling Off A Bike.
By Bonzi with sex scenes by Tiddles the porno kitten.
part 117.

"You mean he owns this place?!" I gasped.

"Not quite, the bank does, he's just the majority shareholder of the bank."

"So he owns it?" I repeated.

"About half of it, come on or we'll miss the peasants touching their forelocks."

"What?"

"The staff arse kissing," she sniggered.

"I don't know if I want to see that Stella."

"Come on, they'll give us a good meal."

"I think I may have lost my appetite."

"You can't go all precious on me now girl."

I still buzzed when she called me that, I suppose one day I might just get used to it. "I really don't know about this Stella."

"Come on, you can do it," she grabbed be above the elbow and practically dragged me into the hotel lobby.

"Good afternoon Lady Stella," said the hotel manager. I knew he was the hotel manager because his badge said so. He also looked slimy and I felt the hairs on the back of my neck bristle. He had such shiny shoes that he could almost see your face in them, and he could certainly see up your skirts with them. I shivered a little.

"Good afternoon Miss Watts," he knew my name, damn!

"Good afternoon, Mr Pringle," I read off his badge. If he appeared in my mammal count, I think it would have to be under rat, but that might be doing a disservice to Rattus rattus and Rattus norvegicus (black and brown rats respectively) they only carry plague and hepatitis, he was far more dangerous. More like a viper in the graminae.

"Lord and Lady Stanebury are in the green room, please follow me."
I followed his wobbling buttocks as he minced his way along the corridor. He was as bent as a four pound....! What was I thinking? Who was I to cast aspersions? He might be quee.... gay, so what, that wasn't why he was creepy, it was something else I couldn't put my finger on, well not without wearing rubber gloves!

We followed into the green room, which was perhaps the top dining room, it was covered in ankle deep carpets, the walls were covered in paintings above the dado rail, below the hessian wall cover must have cost a packet. It was green, and the gently subdued lighting made one feel relaxed almost immediately.

Although subdued there was plenty of light to see across the restaurant and to where Simon's parents were seated. They waved to us and Stella upped the pace of her step. Even in ridiculous heels she could motor, whereas I, the tyro, limped along behind her. I bet I could beat her on a bike ride though but not in this dress!

The manager eased the chairs behind us and Henry declared he'd already ordered for every one, including the wine. That irritated me. I like to browse a menu to tickle my imagination, then look for the things I can afford. Even with Simon, I didn't rob him, just because I could.

"What are we having?" I asked, feeling less hungry than I was anxious.

"Please wait and see dear lady, I promise you won't be disappointed." Henry laid on the charm but I suspect my eyes still registered some irritation or fear. "I also promise not to eat you, so do relax dear girl, you look so tense."

"I'm not very good with surprises," I said diffidently.

"But I beg to differ, you surprised Monica and me. We had been told you were attractive, but you aren't you are sublime."

For a moment I thought he was deriding me. I suspect my mouth dropped open. I hoped I wasn't dribbling on my dress.

"I told you she was extremely pretty Daddy," protested Stella.

"You did my darling daughter, you didn't say she was absolutely stunning."

I felt that in terms of colour, I was probably a shade brighter then Monica's ruffled silk top. I glanced at her and she was smiling benignly at me.

"I do hope you are going to front the posters and leaflets for this project. We are investing quite a lot of money in it and it would mean so much to me, to know that we had authenticity as well as beauty on the cover."

If I hadn't been so stunned I would probably have laughed, authenticity? Me? Ha bloody ha! I'm a fake, ersatz, what a laugh! I glanced again at Monica and at her nose, I gazed at her nose - Oh God what was I doing?

I managed to cough and it broke the spell. I was still blushing and embarrassed but had missed Henry and Stella's last few comments.

"The poor girl is embarrassed Henry, leave her in peace," my ally was Monica of all people. Perhaps she hadn't seen me mesmerised by her nose.

"Very well darling, but only if she agrees to model for me, I mean for us, I mean for the posters."

"I really don't feel comfortable about it." I said blushing even brighter than before, I was beginning to wonder if they would have to rename it the pink room with all the heat I was giving off. I felt incredibly hot. A little dribble of sweat ran down my back and I knew my bra was sticking to my breasts. I prayed my perfume would keep me smelling sweet.

"Cathy also rides a bike Daddy," Stella offered changing the subject but not far enough away from the previous one, me!

"Well lots of students do dear, I did as a student at Cambridge."

"No I mean she rides a real bike."

"What do you mean darling? Just what sort of bike do you ride Cathy?"

"I have a Scott."

"Oh an American thing."

"Yes," I agreed, why couldn't they talk about someone else?

"Go on tell him, it's one of those plastic things, light as a feather drop handlebars and loadsa gears."

Henry's eyes lit up again, "You ride a race bike?"

I nodded.

"Do you race?"

"I'm not very good." I blushed again, why couldn't I have left my door locked this morning?

"She is Daddy, you should have seen her in the inter-varsity race, she beat loads."

"My my, what an interesting young lady you are, full of surprises. Beauty, brains and a sense of competition. How interesting?" Nothing he said made me feel more relaxed or more fond of him, if anything I felt more frightened and wished that I was somewhere else. Maybe I could choke to death on a fishbone or something?

Waiters arrived as if by a bus load and suddenly our empty table became burdened with food, almost enough to make it groan under the weight of it. Plates were placed before each of us and Henry invited us to 'dig in'.

It looked like he'd ordered the whole a la carte menu. The food was magnificent but my appetite was absent and I only grazed, finding most enthusiasm for the sorbet, which was heavenly.

I tried to engage Monica in conversation, "Are you involved in the bank as well?"

"Only in trying to empty my account," laughed Henry. She blushed and shook her head.

I went back to my sorbet. I tried again, "Stella tells me you have a TT."

"Yes," she smiled and her husband interrupted with chapter and verse on its engine size and performance and how many dead flies were on its front bumper. How was it that with the exception of Simon, most other male dining companions were total bores? If Simon got his charm from his dad, I was giving him the elbow tonight. Somehow, I didn't think that was likely.

What is it about middle-aged men that they feel compelled to impress younger women? Gregg had done it and now Henry was at it. I almost felt my eyes glaze over and it wasn't from the wine, I hadn't drunk any.

I drifted while Stella and her father jousted at the table, Monica laughed politely on occasion, it drew me back to conscious awareness of where I was. Monica was gazing at me, no she was staring at me. I wondered if she had noticed something, did she spot the counterfeit? I felt myself colouring up again.

"Phew it's warm in here," I said fanning myself with a place mat, "I think I shall get some air, excuse me." I rose from the table and Henry stood, his manners were impeccable.

I walked a little uneasily back across the room, clutching my little bag. I walked towards a sign which said, 'toilets and fire exit.' I assumed there would be an exit there somewhere and I could get some cool fresh air.

I found a french window which opened out onto balcony, I slipped through it and stood watching the sea in the distance, the fresh breeze cooling my sweaty body and I hoped restoring my energy.

I drifted down memory lane, well a sort of projected memory. I wondered how my parents would really feel about me, would they see me as a pretty woman or an abomination?

"Are you okay Cathy?" The voice made me start, I was so rapt in my daydream. "Oh I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you jump." I spun around and Monica was standing behind me.

"I'm sorry, I didn't hear you come out," I apologised, blushing yet again and feeling my heart thumping in my chest, I was sure my left boob was jumping from the pressure.

"We were a little worried about you, you went a bit pale."

"I'll be okay, it was just so warm in there."

"Henry and Stella were so absorbed in their converation, I thought I'd come and check on you."

While that statement in my usual paranoid state could mean any number of things, I took it at face value.

"You like Stella don't you?"

"Well," I began, "she nearly killed me, she is incredibly bossy and devious and drops me in it all the time.... How am I doing?"

Monica laughed, "She does tend to overwhelm one somewhat, but that is the Camerons. All or nothing."

I almost felt like challenging her as to why she was really standing with me. I knew in my water that she was holding back on something.

"You really are a very pretty girl," she said staring again.

Oh shit! Now I knew why she was there.

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 118

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Fiction

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

Easy As Falling Off A Bike.
by Bonzi's Mum,
part 118?

Monica was smiling at me and I tried to avoid eye contact, perhaps not the best thing to do.

"Yes, very pretty," she repeated and I could almost sense her licking her lips.

"I'm feeling a bit cold, I think I'd like to go back in now." I said but she stood in the way.

"We could always go up to our suite if you need to freshen up, you looked awfully pale in there, is it wise to go back there?"

"Yes I think so, I didn't sleep too well last night, bad dream woke me up." And a nightmare is stood in front of me now, I thought to myself.

"You could always come up and have a little nap, yes why don't you. Stella and Henry will chat for hours, they always do."

"I'm fine thank you Monica, besides if I sleep now, I won't tonight."

"You don't need to sleep, I could give you little massage, you feel so tense," she squeezed my shoulder, "you need to relax a little, massage is great for that, ask Stella."

I felt my insides knot and I wanted to cringe. I have nothing against other people and what pops their buttons, but Monica did nothing for me, even with a nose job. I looked at my watch, "Goodness is that the time, I've got to call the hospital to see how my father is."

"I see," Monica frowned at me, "So pretty," she sighed and I stepped around her and walked back into the hotel.

I called Southmead Hospital and was told that my father had the virus, my stomach churned, "Is there anything I can do?" I asked the nurse.

"Keep away for a week or so, we'll let you know if anything happens,"

"What! Is anything likely to happen?" I felt quite anxious now.

"No of course not, but people who have had strokes can be susceptible to other things and these D and V bugs, can make them quite poorly."

"But he's hardly elderly, he's only in his fifties, surely that makes a difference."

"Yes of course, look Miss Watts, I'm not trying to alarm you I'm only trying to let you know that things can happen sometimes."

"Yeah, okay, thanks I suppose. You have my mob...." I realised she'd rung off before I'd finished.

"Troubles Cathy?" asked the predatory Monica, "Anything I can do to help?"

"Not really, my dad's caught a sickness bug at the hospital, Noro virus or something."

"Oh dear, I am sorry. Is he very poorly?"

"A bit, he had a stroke about a month ago, so he needed this like bang on the head."

"Indeed," she put her arm around mine and pulled me gently back towards the restaurant, "come and have a drink and relax, worrying won't make him feel any better and it will only put lines on that flawless face."

"Eh?" I asked not having listened to a word she said.

We entered the dining area and Henry and Stella were still in animated conversation, so much so they didn't hear or see us arrive. Monica grabbed a bottle of red wine and poured the two of us a glass each. I sipped a couple of mouthfuls and allowed the precious fluid to frolic on my tastebuds before it vanished down my throat.

"Nice wine," I said quietly.

"Yes we like nice things, Cathy." She beamed a smile at me and I felt like saying, 'that I wasn't on offer, I was spoken for.' Of course I didn't because, maybe Henry didn't know about his wife, I wouldn't like to be the one who broke the news. Besides, who am I to throw stones? However, it didn't encourage me to want to make my relationship with Simon long term, unless he could somehow warn her off? How do you say that to your boyfriend? I spent the next ten minutes winding that around my mind while savouring the delicious red wine.

"Oh you're back!" exclaimed Stella noticing me at last.

"I have been back here drinking this delicious wine for the past twenty minutes."

"You like the wine?" asked Henry.

"It's gorgeous," I said now on my second, or was it third, glass?

He gestured to a waiter and said something quietly to him, the waiter nodded and disappeared. Then he looked at his watch and said, "Get your stuff Monica, we need to head back to town."

She did as she was told and then he stood up and hugged and kissed his daughter, and then I got the same treatment. I was a little tiddly by this time and giggled as he kissed my cheek. Then when Monica embraced and kissed Stella, I giggled some more, stopping abruptly when she grabbed me and kissed me on the cheek, whispering, "Next time perhaps?" I nearly fell over.

On the drive back, I asked Stella if I could ask a personal question.

"Oh do, they're often the best sort."

"Is your step-mother, you know, erm?" I blushed embarrassed even thinking about it.

"Is she gay?" sighed Stella, "She didn't try it on did she?"

"Not in so many words," I blushed to the roots of my hair.

"You'd have been such a disappointment to her," she said dismissively and then threw me a smirk. That did it, I giggled so much I got hiccups.

Back at my room, she told me to collect up my stuff and come back to the cottage.

"I can't do that, I'm over the limit."

"I'll drive," she said.

"How will I get back?"

"I'll drop you off tomorrow when I go into work."

"What about Simon?"

"Nah, he's still in hospital," she piped and began throwing my clothes into a bag.

"I'm supposed to go back to see him."

"When?"

"Tonight."

"You're joking?"

"No, I promised him I'd stop by and see him again tonight."

"That means I have to take you to the hospital and then bring you on to the cottage?"

"No, I'll get a taxi back here."

"You are not staying here another night."

"Why, I know who it was and what the noise was, so it doesn't worry me now."

"You don't know who wrote these fucking things though do you, Miss Clever Dick?" She picked up the bag of anonymous letters.

"I'm sure they'll get fed up when they see I'm ignoring them."

"What if they don't and decide to step up their campaign?"

"What go to the papers?"

"I erm, hadn't actually thought of that Cathy, but yes, what if they do go to the papers?"

"What were you thinking of Stella?" My mind felt a little muddled from the alcohol.

"It doesn't matter," she continued shovelling my stuff into a bag.

"Yes it does," the room was feeling a bit unsteady.

"Why have you gone green Cat....? Oh shit, quickly the toilet." She grabbed me and practically pushed me down the toilet, "Not on the dress, oh bugger!"

It was over an hour later that I appeared at Simon's bedside probably feeling more sick than he did. "What happened to you?" he asked looking me up and down.

"Your step-mother," I said pinching his water to pop another aspirin.

"Monica?"

"Yes, she got me tiddly and I was sick." I blushed and the room began to move a bit. I sat down quickly but that jolted my head. I held it in my hands.

"Did she, erm do anything else?" he asked and was blushing when I finally looked up.

"Why didn't you warn me?" I would have slapped him if he hadn't been injured and I hadn't felt so sick.

"I hoped she'd have got the point by realising that we're an item. Did she embarrass you horribly?"

"A bit, why?"

"She is bonkers."

"Since when is being gay, bonkers?" I felt even more muddled now.

"She is bisexual and sort of nympho, she'll sleep with anything."

"What even a tranny like me?" I was surprised.

He grabbed hold of my hand and looking me in the eye said, "Cathy, you're a woman, period. It ain't up for discussion, got that?"

"Is that because it could embarrass you?" I don't know why I said that. It sort of fell out of my mouth.

"No it wouldn't actually, because I love you."

"What as I am? A freak?"

"You are no freak, you are the woman I love and while we can't consumate that love just yet, we will one day."

I stared deep into his eyes and almost fell into them. I don't know if time stopped or just my heart because his eyes were the only thing in my consciousness, I felt him drawing my mind out of my head and into his heart, filling it with this special warmth and love and sending it back to me. It made my head feel very strange, light yet full of this warmth.

"Kiss me," I managed to say, and he pulled me down to his lips.

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 119

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Fiction

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

Games and yet more games!

Easy As Falling Off A Bike.
by Bonzi & Tiddles.
part 119 (Unlike the psalm of the same number it won't be the longest episode).

For the best part of the hour remaining Simon and I talked and talked, with occasional kisses in between when we thought no one was watching.

"When I get out of here, you are coming to live with Stella and me."

"I can't," I protested.

"Why can't you?"

"It's too far to cycle to college every day."

"This is being said by a woman who cycled out past us just for a bit of a spin, when Stella tried to kill you?"

"I don't ride that far every day and in the dark and wet it can be dangerous. Remember Stella knocked me off when it was raining."

"You have the use of a car."

"I know that, but I try not to use it any more than I need to."

"Why?"

"I just don't, global warming and all that, I don't know. I'm a cyclist first and foremost and while it's a lovely little car, I like to ride when I can. It also means the car will last longer, if I don't use it too much."

Simon looked at me and shook his head, groaning because something hurt when he moved.

"Are you all right?" I asked almost panicking.

"No some bastard shot me, remember?"

"Oh yeah," I blushed and tried to ease his pain, giving him a kiss. I don't know if it helped but it shut him up for a few seconds.

"I turn my back for a few moments and this happens!" We broke apart and without looking, we both recognised the voice.

"They've been at it like bunnies whenever they think no one is looking," called a nurse as she passed.

"Bloody nurses, they're all liars," I said for the benefit of present company.

"I'd withdraw that remark unless you want me to get one of my colleagues to murder your boyfriend."

"You could get struck off for that!" I gasped, although I knew it was all in jest, it still horrified me.

"Nah, they only do that if you sleep with underage patients."

"Don't worry sweetie pie," said Simon reassuringly, "she's been trying to kill me ever since we were nippers. You got closer to it at a first attempt."

I stood blushing and feeling awful and Stella nearly collapsed laughing, Simon started to laugh then realised it hurt his sternum. He moaned and groaned and I simply stared at him and said, "Serves you jolly well right."

"And you want me to move in with you pair of psychopaths?"

"Who does?" said a surprised Stella.

"I do, I think she'd be far safer living with us."

"Yeah, there's room," agreed Stella.

"Can I think about it?" I pleaded.

"You've had hours to think about it."

"Hours! I've only been here an hour."

"Well I was close, just one letter out," said Simon who chuckled and then groaned. I poked my tongue out at him.

"Right girl," said Stella, the g word still making the hair on my neck stand up on end. "Give him a last kiss and then let's go home."

"Erm, okay," I accepted reluctantly. I kissed Simon again and with a subdued passion, being supervised by his sister. I think he felt the same.

"Come back without the witch next time," he whispered but loud enough for its intended target to hear it.

"I can't," I loudly hissed back, "it's her broomstick we're using."

"Remember it's a long walk to Portsmouth from the cottage," she smiled at me, "S'long bruv," she said to Simon and pecked his cheek. "Come on urchin," she said to me.

"I'm not an urchin," I protested as we walked back to the car.

"Have you seen your hair?"

"No, why....Oh my God," I said as I saw myself in a dark window, my makeup was all smeared and my hair was mostly standing on end.

"You look like you just finished a wrestling match with Monica."

"Ouch!" We walked on a little further when I added, "Is there anyway we could get a restraining order on her?"

"I don't think so, what for?"

"Attempted cannibalism," I replied.

Stella stopped in her tracks, "What are you on about girl?"

"The way she was licking her lips, I wondered if she was going to eat me. It was like watching a female Hannibal Leckter, or whatever his name was."

"Didn't I mention she's as randy as bull on Sildenafil."

"On what? And no you didn't."

"Sorry about that, oh that's Viagra." She smirked at me and we continued out to the car.

"You set me up, you rat!"

"I did not, you went off on your own, she went a few moments later. I wondered if you were trying something new?"

"You WHAT?"

"Well, play the field a little while the cat's away, you know."

I exploded. "How dare you even think that, I love Simon and I certainly don't want anything to do with that over-sexed old cow!"

She stood there grinning and I realised I'd reacted exactly as planned, she'd got me again.

"You...., you...., bitch!" I managed before she roared with laughter and I laughed as well. I wanted to hit her, but it's not very ladylike.

"You are so predictable," she sniggered, "I can't resist it."

"One of these days...." I hissed shaking my head.

"Come on Lancie girl, let's go home."

"Who?"

"Well isn't that the name of that cyclist bloke?"

"Lancie? Oh you mean 'Never failed a drugs test' Armstrong?"

"Is that meant to be sarcasm? Did he fail a test or something?"

"No he didn't, but some of his exploits seemed suspiciously as if he should have been wearing blue tights with red knickers over the top and an 'S' on his shirt."

"What do you mean?" she looked completely confused.

"Look, he was so good at times it almost meant he was Superman."

"Maybe he was just that good."

"Perhaps, anyway he never tested positive, so if he wasn't Superman, he was as clever as Lex Luthor."

"I assumed he was just very good, not that I know anything about cycling. I mean you looked good at it to me."

"Gee thanks." I huffed and looked out the window for a few minutes. Then something struck me as different. "How come we're not using the Saab?"

"It's out of fuel."

"Phew! For a moment I thought you'd crashed it or something."

"I did."

"What? What is Simon going to say?"

"He'll kill me."

"How bad is it?"

"I think it's a write off."

"Jeez Stella, what happened?"

"I tried to overtake a tractor and there was one coming the other way."

"Oh my goodness, you're not hurt are you?"

"Not till Simon finds out. You won't tell him will you?"

"But he's supposed to be coming out in a couple of days, you promised to take time off." I was shocked. I was also a little more uneasy than I'd been a few moments before.

"Could you do me a tremendous favour?" She asked me in as seductive a voice as she could.

"Do what?" I asked suspiciously.

"Could you tell him, you did it?"

"WHAT!" I screamed.

"Well, he'll be really cross this time."

"This time?" I repeated.

"Yes, he eventually forgave me for the Mercedes, and he was really nice about the Porsche, said he never liked it."

"You've crashed three of his cars?"

"Four if you include the Jaguar, but it wasn't really my fault. It really wasn't."

"FOUR! Fucking hell Stella, let me out will ya, I'll be safer walking."

"Will you tell him it was you?"

"I can't Stella, much as I like you, I couldn't lie to Simon, not ever again."

"I knew you'd take that line, bloody 'Goody two shoes'." she huffed and we turned into the drive way. We passed the Saab, which didn't have a scratch on it. As soon as we stopped, I jumped out and checked it, it was perfectly all right.

"You lying cow!" I shouted, there's nothing wrong with his car, is there?"

She stood and doubled up laughing. "Your face was a picture," she said and guffawed again.

"You're a bloody psycho," I said shaking my head.

She nodded and continued laughing. "Your face!" and laughed some more.

I stormed into the house when she opened up the door, taking my bag up to my room. I sat on my bed fuming and wondering if she was crazy.

A short while later she came up and knocking on the door entered my room, I ignored her. "Sorry Cathy, I didn't mean to upset you. I haven't actually crashed any of his cars, he usually does his own."

"I don't care, I thought you wanted me to lie to Simon," and a tear came to my eyes.

"I didn't really and I'm proud that you resisted me."

"Please don't play your silly games with me ever again, or our friendship is over. You understand?"

"Oh Cathy, I am sorry, I really am," she said bursting into tears and trying to hug me, except I moved away from her.

"I think I'd like to go to bed now Stella, so can you leave?"

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 120

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Fiction

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

Easy As Falling Off A Bike.
by Bonzi & Tiddles.
part 120.

It took me some time to get to sleep, Stella had really annoyed me with her silly mind games. I know we all play them to some extent, but she was a veteran gamer. I suppose as well, I was naive and very trusting. If she told me black was white, I would probably believe her.

I'm tempted to say that I don't go around deceiving folks myself, but that wouldn't be quite true, until I have the surgery required to complete the transformation, am I not deceiving all those who don't know about me? I didn't know, because it was this side of me which felt more real than the earlier manifestation, but that could be a self deception. Why is life so difficult? It all seems to be based on paradoxes, I think I may be feeling a bit like Schrodinger's cat.

I must have slept at some point because I woke up. I was in a sweat and had been dreaming that Monica had managed to get me to stay at their house or suite at the hotel, and after I'd gone to bed and fallen asleep, she had entered my room and got into bed with me!

It took me a few moments to remember where I was, I sleepy and very disoriented. Finally, the cottage came to my memory and I calmed down. I went for a wee and returned to my bed and sleep. Stella woke me about seven, telling me she had to go to work soon. I dressed in record time deciding that I could shower and breakfast back at my room. I also thought I should touch base with Dr Thomas.

At three that afternoon, I was waiting outside her room for the rushed appointment I managed to make. I dressed up for the event, wearing a dress and jacket, some makeup and my boots. Using the car meant I could arrive looking moderately tidy.

"Cathy Watts," was called from her door, and I jumped up putting down my three year old copy of 'Country Life' and walked towards her office.

"Well Cathy, how's it going?" she greeted me, shaking my hand warmly.

I brought her up to the present leaving out no detail I thought she needed to know about. I even mentioned the nasty letters.

"So how is this young man, Simon, you said?"

"Yes Simon, he's going to be okay it's just going to take a few weeks for the arm and his sternum to heal."

"So was it deliberate?"

"I don't think so, they arrested and charged two poachers with firearms offences, including unlawful wounding, but I don't know how serious that is."

"So tell me about him," she instructed.

"Like I already mentioned, he's a nice gentle sort of chap. He's got a very well paid job, says he loves me, he does know the truth now, and he spoils me rotten."

"So what does he do?"

"He works for a merchant bank or some such thing, he buys and sells commodities I think. He makes them a great deal of money and consequently earns quite a bit himself. I suppose it helps when Daddy owns the bank."

"What?"

"Yeah, his father is majority shareholder in the bank."

"This isn't some fabrication on his part is it?"

"No, he's no Walter Mitty, I've met his father and step-mother."

"And this is a real bank?"

"Yes. Did I mention his dad is a viscount?"

"Oh my God Cathy, is this a good idea?"

"Don't you think I haven't asked myself this same question a million times?"

"You seem to have come a very long way in such a short time. I mean losing your mother, then your father having the stroke and then this strange, titled family who seem to embrace you into its bosom so whole-heartedly. I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop."

"Yes, I know. I mean it's only Simon and Stella who know about me, his parent's don't. His step-mum is strange anyway, she's bisexual and very predatory."

"How do you know?"

"I was on her menu, but managed to skip tables."

"Ouch!" offered the doctor.

"They're all barmey, so I fit in quite well."

Dr Thomas laughed and asked, "What do you intend to do about the poison-pen letters?

"I don't know, I'd like to resolve it wthout police involvement."

"Why?"

"I don't want them involved because it could mean more publicity."

"Any idea who is writing them?"

"Absolutely none."

"Or why?"

"Dunno, I can only think it's someone who isn't comfortable with my changeover."

"It sounds like it, but they obviously are clever enough to get around the camera you rigged up, so they're not stupid."

"No, then the last one came through the ordinary mail. So it looks as if that may have rattled them a bit."

"Yes, it could have done. I think you should inform the police, but I accept your reasons for not doing so."

"I don't want any publicity, which is why I don't want to model for the posters they want to do."

"I can see your point there Cathy, that could be asking for trouble. At the same time, I understand why they want you to do it."

"Why, because I can't?"

"Because you are an expert who is involved in the study and you happen to be a very attractive young woman, the sort they use for modelling such posters."

"Why don't they use men for the same thing?"

"The convention is to use women because they are primarily selling things to men. This is especially true of things like cars or sports equipment where they want the stuff to be seen as sexy or attracting beautiful women. Since when, it has become the norm almost. You can't even buy a womans' magazine without some bimbo staring off the cover with perfect teeth and hair. So mens' magazines tend to be even more direct, with breasts or more on show."

"Seems silly to me."

"Me too Cathy, but that's the way of the world. I don't make the rules I only try to help people integrate with them a little more easily."

I took my leave and headed back to my room, stopping at the corner shop to chat with my favourite Asian shopkeeper and find something for tea.

I checked with Southmead, Dad was still poorly but slightly better, he'd stopped being sick and they were trying to boost his fluid intake.

I went to see Simon, taking him a selection of choc bars and fizzy drinks. He was feeling in pain and not very communicative. I sat holding his hand and kissing him every so often. I wanted him back at the cottage, but I wasn't sure how I could care for him, I was no nurse. As I went to leave, he mentioned coming home, and I eventually managed to flannel my way through it by saying Stella was organising it all.

It was dark as I found my way back to the car park, I was tired and concerned. Simon had been doing so well but today had looked worse than yesterday. I decided he was possibly tired after all the visitors yesterday.

I sat in the car and saw something attached to the windscreen. My first reaction was I'd overrun my parking ticket or parked out of the designated space. My heart sank, then I thought they would clamp it rather than post a message on the car. At least that was what the signs said. I looked at the ticket, I still had about five minutes on it to run.

There was only one way to sort this out, I got out of the car and picked up the envelope. The familiar shape and colour, then the same handwriting took me by surprise. I shook as I tore it open.

'We are watching you, nice car, very girly for a boy don't you think? Oh we forgot, you like to pretend you're a girl don't you? The day of reckoning aproacheth!

An ill-wisher.'

I sat and read the message several times, each one making me feel more frightened. I pressed the internal locking mechanism and sat feeling very frightened in my little car. What if 'they' were watching me? I needed to get away from the car park and quickly.

*********************************************************************

This will be the last one until I get home from hospital and am able to access my 'puter. I hope it won't be more than a few days.
Hugs to all my readers,
Angharad (and Bonzi).

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 121

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Fiction

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

Easy As Falling Off A Bike.
By Angharad Sore-Back,
part ten dozen and one.

I drove like a demon back to my room, rushed up the stairs grabbed the other letters and dashed back to the car, then off to the cop shop. They were polite but how helpful I wouldn't like to say.

"So why do you think they are sending you these letters?"

"I don't know. I can only assume they don't like me changing my gender or something, because they all mention that."

The officer, a detective constable, flicked through them again. "Yeah they do. So have you upset anyone?"

"No, not to my knowledge."

"No boyfriends who found out you used to be....."

"I have one friend who knows, so does his sister. They appear not to have any problem with it. Besides he's in hospital, so it couldn't be him. He knows nothing about them anyway, if he did he'd be cross with me for not coming to you earlier."

"No one at your university jealous of you?"

"Can't think so, it's only in the last week or so that it's come out and the letters started before that."

"So it was someone who knew from the outset?"

"Yes I suppose so, but I can't think of anyone I told who would have reacted like that."

"People can be funny, they don't always show their feelings."

"I appreciate that, but I should be very surprised if it was any of the university people, most of them are too rooted in their own little ivory towers to worry what anyone else is doing, unless it affects their research."

"Right well thank you, Miss erm Watts, I'll get someone to have a look at these, seee if there's any traces we can identify, or fingerprints."

"Do you need to take mine?"

"Yeah, I suppose we better had."

He took me to a small room where he produced a piece of glass and a roller with a blob of ink stuff. He rolled the ink over the glass, then dabbed my fingers in one at a time and then did a print of each on a card, on which he wrote my name and address.

"What do I do if they seem to be heading for a confrontation?" I asked, because the most recent note had spoken of a 'day of reckoning'.

He passed me a business card, "Give me a ring. If it's more urgent dial 999. We take these things quite seriously."

I thanked him and went home, putting my anti intruder device against the door. I wondered if I should have gone to the cottage, but didn't want to involve Stella more than I had already. I wondered about personal protection, carrying a stick or some weapon, but decided that it could land me in trouble. Besides, what did the 'day of reckoning' mean? Could it just be a scene? Would they attack me? I didn't know.

I slept very badly that night, hearing every sound. I felt a wreck the next morning when I got up and showered. A small breakfast, I didn't feel too hungry. Then I went off to the department.

I checked the mailbox, and was relieved to find it empty. I also had a good look around the car and nothing seemed amiss. I drove in and was pleased to discover I had a parking pass. The day was feeling better, albeit by a tiny bit.

I went to see if I could get an appointment with my professor and was told he could see me at two. It was now ten. The police had apparently retrieved all the bits from the woods and the shattered image intensifier and my destroyed note book were anongst the items.

My results from the fateful night were unusable because they were incomplete and the previous ones were shredded by shotgun pellets. The book had saved Simon's life but it was now only fit for the bin. My Lowe rucksack was similar, full of holes as was the flask and most of the other stuff. My dread of guns was reinforced when I saw what could have happened, most of Simon's head and chest would have been destroyed. Realising this I began to shake and cry.

"Are you okay?" asked a female voice.

"Yeah, I'll be all right in a minute."

She saw the damaged items on my desk, "Christ, what happened to those?"

"They stopped a shotgun."

"Jesus! You weren't carrying them were you?"

"No, my boyfriend was." Referring to Simon as my boyfriend felt good, it was a new concept to me. Other people referred to us as a couple, but I hadn't.

"Oh shit, is he like, okay?"

I spotted a small amount of dried blood on the bag. "He's in hospital but yes he survived."

"Like wow!, Who would do such a thing?"

"Some poachers we think, thought they were shooting deer."

"I don't like guns," she said shaking her head.

"Nor me."

"Wanna go grab some coffee?" she asked.

As I couldn't think of a reason to say no, I agreed.

We walked over to the cafeteria, which is in the next building to the zoology department, usefully in the same building as microbiology, so if we get food poisoning, we can identify it very quickly! Very comforting when you're feeling like death!

"Sorry, I don't even know your name," I apologised to my companion.

"Suzy Burrows, I've been on a sabbatical, "only just come back to the department."

"You've been over at Yale haven't you?"

"Harvard," she corrected gently.

"Well it's all the same in a small place like America," I joked, "I mean how would they cope having space the size of Yorkshire?"

She laughed understanding my joke about the largest county in England, being lost in even the smallest state of the US. "Well their buses must be awful slow, is all I can say." We laughed some more.

"So what are you doing?"

"Dormice."

"Use plenty of garlic," she joked as we sipped our coffees.

"Ugh, these are all little friends to me, it would be like eating your pet dog or cat. I mean I have seen many of them grow up from babies, especially the colony we have in the department."

"I've been away longer than I thought, the Prof has allowed you to breed dormice?"

"Yeah, do you want to see them?"

"Oh yeah," she said, "then the old bugger can explain to me why he couldn't do the same with harvest mice."

"Of course, the 'Harvest Queen'," I said, "they did a spread on you in the local paper."

"Oh don't," she said, "that was so humiliating.They wanted me to pose in sexy clothes, I mean what's wrong with a Barbour and jeans?"

"Does this mean I can hand over some of the rodent stuff to you?"

"What do you mean?" she asked and I had to explain all about the survey.

"I'd like to be involved but I've got a teaching post lined up at Harvard, tell you what, I'll certainly correlate any results you get. But I'm going to be busy with Yankee bunnies."

"Eh?"

"I'm doing some work on hares and possibly prairie dogs."

"Oh, so you're not going to be around, then?" As I said this I thought to myself, Duh! she just told you she's not staying, so no you can't get her to front the poster campaign.

"So can I use your harvest mouse stuff as a baseline for the new figures."

"Sure, but check with Geoff Grantham in Surrey, he did quite a big study a couple of years ago."

"I saw his name on the data base, I'll send him an email."

"He's a nice guy, especially helpful to a pretty girl, so once he meets you, he'll do anything."

I wasn't quite sure how to take that. I appraised her again, very pretty woman, about twenty five, dark hair and eyes with a sensual mouth and upturned nose. I suspect she could get most men to do what she wanted, just by smiling at them. Was she implying I could have the same power? It was all so new to me.

"The problem is rats," said a youngish man, joining us.

"Hi Stan," said Suzy.

"Hi Suzy, how was the US?"

"Good, and your rats?"

"Yeah, still running rings around me."

"Do you know Cathy, our dormouse lady."

"Hi," he said before throwing some Red Bull down his throat."I thought, it was a bloke who did dormice."

"No, I think Cathy is a girl, Stan. You've been playing with your rats too long."

"Could be, anyway ladies, I have to get back or they'll take over the world."

"They already have Stan," said Suzy and giggled. I chuckled politely while thinking that my news hasn't been widely distributed. That was interesting in itself. So who would know and and why were they running this nastiness campaign against me, albeit on a personal level?

I sipped my coffee lost in thought, wondering if Stella could offer any advice, maybe it was someone Simon went out with who was jealous? I really didn't know, and they gave little hint as to what they were upset about, except my transition.

"I'd better get back, I have to clear out my office and see old Agnew, kiss him goodbye and all that.I expect he'll want me to go to dinner, dirty old man."

"Yeah, I 'spect so, but he's a nice dirty old man," I agreed and we wandered back to zoology.

*******************************************************************

The postings could be a bit sporradic for a few days, depending upon how sore I feel. I'm not suppose to sit for too long, and just have!

Hugs,

Angharad.

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 122

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Fiction

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Other Keywords: 

  • Lotsa crying
  • nothing new there then

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

Cathy learns a bit about the professor.... read on and see exactly what?

Easy As Falling Asleep.
by wossername with the bad back,
part fiction part rubbish.

I showed Suzy the captive breeding programme, she was suitably impressed. I was nominally in charge but the work was done by two of our technicians, Neal and Tina. Eventually she went off to see the professor and I sat at my desk looking at the damaged fieldwork equipment again.

It was astonishing that Simon hadn't been more injured, I shuddered when I thought about it. If he'd been killed I really don't know how my sanity would have survived. At times now I thought it was borderline bonkers, a new clinical term possibly not yet recognised by Dr Thomas and her colleagues or the DSM iv.

I had an appointment to see Prof Agnew myself soon, so I needed to keep my spirits up and not get too maudlin about what could have happened, it didn't. I also wanted to see Simon and perhaps dash up to Bristol to see Daddy.

I didn't understand why I was calling him that, it was almost a regression to childhood. He didn't seem to mind and part of me liked it. My mind drifted back to the funeral and his presentation to me of my doll 'Josephine'. He'd taken her from me when I was seven or eight years old and told me he had smashed her and thrown her in the trash.

I could still recall that day, I cried for hours, helped by the fact that he gave me a hiding for calling him a 'cruel man'. I hated him for weeks after that, I wouldn't go near him. Giving my doll back mended a few bridges but there were still so many to fix. I took heart from the fact that my mum had stopped him smashing it up, and that he could have done it covertly years later. I wouldn't have been any the wiser and I suspect Mum wouldn't have been either.

What puzzled me was why she had stopped him? Nowadays, most parents would be less brutal, but fifteen years ago, I suspect many would have dumped a doll if their son was playing with it, especially if he'd swapped a football for it. He also dominated her so much, so why did she stop him? If it was my son, I'd be watching to see if any other girlish inclinations happened and get some advice. Then it was seen as taboo, he could be gay! Arrgh!

How pathetic, and now macho man was dependent upon his effeminate offspring, tough! Life has ways of equalising things at times, or in this case, it did.

"Cath old girl," called Neal.

I awoke from my reverie, "Erm, yes Neal."

"Prof is waiting for you," he was holding a phone which he'd obviously just answered.

"Oh!" I gasped and ran off towards his office.

"Just made it girl," said Mrs Miller, "I was just about to move next business."

"Sorry, I was engrossed in something, forgot the time."

"Go on in."

I tapped on the door and went through. "Ah, Miss Dormouse, what can I do for you?" He glanced at his watch, "Damn, it's lunchtime, can we do this over the pub?"

"It's a bit personal and involves the police," I said very quietly and felt myself getting hotter.

"Police, not the fieldwork business? Oh God, your young man isn't worse is he?"

"No Prof, it's something different. For the last couple of weeks I've been getting some poison pen letters, remember I mentioned them last week."

"Bloody cowards!" he almost spat in disgust, "Do we know who is writing them yet?"

"No, but the last one seemed more threatening and I took them to the police." I explained about the messages and how they had put the last one on my car. I watched him get angrier and angrier, controlling himself until I finished my saga.

"If this proves to have come from anyone associated with this university, then I will do all in my power to see they pay the full penalty, including revoking degrees. We'll also cooperate in any police investigation, and I am pretty sure that goes for the rest of the university. I shall speak to Dr Andrews at our next meeting.

"I'm sorry always to be the bearer of bad news," I hung my head in shame.

"Oh Cathy, you aren't you silly girl, you're a delight to have a round the place, ask Mary if you don't believe me."

"I don't know Prof, I almost feel like it would be easier if I disappeared."

"What do you mean?"

"Well left and went to look after my dad."

"What, and let those cowardly bastards win? That doesn't sound like the Cathy Watts I heard was brawling in the street the other day because someone attacked her boyfriend. She's a fighter!"

I went a lovely shade of crimson, "Oh, I didn't think anyone got to hear about that...."

"Nor dealing with two bumpkins with the aid of a mountain bike."

"Oh," the crimson got brighter.

"Maybe you should do a paper on the mountain bike as a weapon of defence?"

I felt tears run down my nose and drip onto the carpet I was so busy trying to outstare. If you looked at the pattern for a few moments you could see all sorts of shapes in it, including baleful eyes. They were winning the staring game, I was leading in the crying one.

"Good gracious girl, don't cry, you'll shrink me carpet!" He walked over and threw his arm around me and hugged me. "Don't let them win, your future is so bright, keep the light shining. Remember there will be others who come after you, who will benefit from your courage and pioneering spirit."

"Thanks, Professor, you're always so kind to me, I don't know how to thank you."

"There are three things you could do," I stood with red runny eyes and nodded at him waiting for him to pronounce, "firstly, stand and fight. Secondly, come to dinner with me on Friday," I snorted at that, I knew that would be a condition, it always was. "Finally, do the pics for the leaflet, show them two fingers. It would be the best way to show them where to stick their silly bits of paper."

"What if they went to the press?"

"So what, we'd support you all the way to suing them."

"You can only sue if they libel you, they wouldn't need to do that to get a strong story, you know like, 'The girl on the leaflet isn't a girl', or some such similar thing."

"It would be a storm in a teacup and besides the university legal department might even be able to squash it."

"I doubt it, there is no closed season on transsexuals."

"I think things are changing, and remember we all scratch each other's backs these days. So if we get some lead story for them, they are invited to exclusives. If they get some dirt on us, unless it is about something illegal, they talk to us first."

"That's the local rag, what about the national tabloids, The Sun or News Of The World, they don't have arrangements with you?"

"True, but neither do they have the clout for local news. Besides, you could always go on the offensive."

"What do you mean Professor?"

"Tell 'em first. Secrets are only powerful if they are secret. I mean the rumours are spreading around the campus at a steady rate. If we did an interview with the local rag, we could steal much of their thunder."

"Oh God," I gasped and diving across his study threw up in his waste basket.

"I take it you don't fancy that then?"

I vomited again.

"Mary, can you came in for a minute?" I heard him call into his intercom.

She took over, dismissing the professor who fled to the pub. Pushing the offending waste bin outside the door she sent for one of the cleaners to sort it. She had also sat me in one of the armchairs and held a glass of water to me.

"Okay, I take it you don't have a bug of some sort?"

I shook my head, weeping with shame.

"And you aren't pregnant?"

I snorted at that.

"So he's upset you? Not his new aftershave, 'Hint of Badger' or something like that."

I snorted with laughter this time and shook my head. Wiping the mess off my face, I sighed and sipped the water. Then I explained to her what I had told the professor. Then I told her what he had suggested.

"You know he wants you to do the leaflets, don't you?"

"Yes, but why?"

"Because you're very pretty and actually studying at the university. He thinks it will encourage women to take up science courses."

"But would it, not if they did a story on me, would it?"

"The leaflets would be around for several years, the news story would be a five-minute wonder."

"I'd rather not."

"I know luvvy, and I understand, but let's face it the dormice have to be the most photogenic animal we study here, and you are the most photogenic researcher, so they seem to go together."

"Why don't they ask Tina? She's quite pretty and is involved with the dormice."

"She isn't leading the project, you are. You'll be in the media anyway."

"What?" I shuddered, "Why?"

"Because the project is news, they'll talk to all the lead researchers and I'm willing to bet you'll be the one they want to photograph."

"Why, is my changeover that obvious?" I began to doubt everything I thought I had achieved.

"No, you silly girl, because you are the prettiest as well as the cleverest one on the team."

"Don't be silly, I'm not very clever."

"You have a first from Sussex, a master's with distinction from us and are heading for a doctoral degree with us. Prof Agnew wants you on the staff here so badly, he's wondering who he can shoot to make space. I didn't tell you that mind," she winked at me.

"Why? I'm a liability, everyone around me gets hurt, trouble seems to follow me like I'm some sort of magnet."

"You are the nicest post-grad we have, he's been trying for funding for you to do some teaching here to help with your financial position. You don't know this because it's all on the QT, okay? And I didn't tell you any of this. He has big plans for this department and you feature in them quite significantly, especially as he's lost Suzy to Havard."

"I don't understand," I said, tears running down my face, "why is he being so good to me?"

"Because you remind him of his daughter. That's why he likes the women to go to his dinners. He isn't a dirty old man, he's coping with the death of his daughter in the way he feels is best for him."

"What happened to her?" this was all news to me.

"She was doing a PhD at Oxford, Anglo Saxon or something, and she was killed by a drunk driver on the motorway. Head-on crash, killed instantly, he was driving a coach and survived. Died from cirrhosis about five years ago."

"When did this happen?" I asked, it was all news to me.

"Twenty years ago."

"Goodness." I sat dumbfounded by this news.

"One of the reasons he likes you so much is that you remind him of her."

"In what way?"

"You look quite like her, colouring and build, you're vivacious, so was she."

"Goodness, no one has ever described me as vivacious before."

"Her name was Catherine, too."

"Oh my God!" I exclaimed and swooned in the chair.

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 123

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Fiction

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Other Keywords: 

  • sleeping with the professor; advertising her wares.

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

Cathy has to work for a living and gets a shock!

Easy As Falling Out Of Bed.
by Bonzi's Mum,
part 1234567890.

I opened my eyes and Mary Miller was stood in front of me, wafting a folder to cause a draught on my face. "How do you feel now?"

"Dreadful, I'm still alive."

"Why wouldn't you want to be?"

"I had a feeling it would be quieter when I'm dead."

"What happens if you go you know where? It may be like a call centre."

"Oh don't," I said clutching my head.

"Headache?"

"A bit," I nodded regretting it almost immediately.

"Don't move, I'll get you an aspirin." She shoved the glass of water in my hand, which I sipped.

I could not believe that not only had I puked into my Professor's bin, but I had swooned in front of his secretary, and I'm not wearing a bloody corset.

"Here," she handed me a white tablet which could have been anything, but I swallowed it and finished the water. "He won't be back for at least half an hour, have a little snooze and see how you feel."

I felt too weak to protest and hardly before she'd gone out the door, I had turned sideways in the chair and was slipping into sleep. At one point I thought I heard voices but I couldn't be bothered to wake and see. Eventually my bladder woke me up, and I realised where I was. I stretched and looking around saw the professor working away at his computer.

"Ah, the sleeper awaketh! How do you feel?"

I yawned and feeling completely stupid, answered, "Can I tell you in a moment?" And staggered out of the door down the corridor and into the loos. After peeing and freshening myself up with cold water, I realised I had to go back to get my bag. Mary wasn't at her desk, so I had to knock and then enter his office.

"Sit and drink," he pointed to the mug of tea on the end of his desk.

"I'm so sorry Professor, I don't know what came over me."

"Morpheus, by the look of it."

"I'm sorry?" I replied.

"God of sleep, you were well locked up in his arms."

"I was?"

"Yep, even the phone didn't wake you and I've had three meetings in here since then."

"Oh no, you haven't have you?" I wailed, just how many had seen me shagged out in his chair.

"No of course not, I'm only joking. So drink your tea before I get Mary in to force feed you."

"Yessir," I picked up and sipped at the delicious liquid.

"Now what are we going to do with you?"

"In what way?" I felt a bit apprehensive.

"I want you to start doing some teaching."

"What!" I gulped, "But I don't have a teaching qualification," I protested.

"You have a masters, which is all that is required for adult courses. There's a book up there on what is involved, read and inwardly digest."

"I hate to sound ungrateful, but when will I have time to teach?" I barely had time to do the work I needed to do as it was.

"It will be one hour per week."

"What?"

"One hour per week. You will do a series on mammalian biology for a set of twenty sessions. The syllabus is there," he pointed at a back table behind me. "It's for pre-entry level, and you will do it at the local college. They don't have a biology teacher capable of this sort of stuff."

I was completely lost, "You mean these are people taking an entry qualification for uni?"

"Yes a pre-entry course, if they get enough points they can apply to do a degree, it's for those who missed out on A-levels."

"Why are you sending me?"

"Don't you want to do it?"

"I don't know."

"You'll get paid, on top of your research grant."

"I will?"

"Yes, it means I get your name on the university payroll."

"But I'm a student?"

"Yes a post grad student, which means you can teach up to degree level. When you get your PhD you can teach master's students and possibly supervise other doctoral work. I've got a student I want you to work with at the moment, she's struggling and I think would benefit from some tutoring."

"How am I supposed to fit all this in?" I gasped, "I'm struggling as it is."

"You train up a junior to do your field work."

"What?"

"Are you losing your hearing?"

"No sir."

"Right, well find a first or second year student who thinks those rabid furry things of yours look cute or something, preferably a male student or a male and female. You then supervise them, it's still your study, you just let some little minion do the spade work."

I stood and gawped.

"What happened when you were at Sussex?"

"They had projects advertised on the notice board, I applied for the one I fancied."

"Exactly, and you were supervised by?"

"Yeah, okay. I'd just got used to doing my own stuff."

"Well now you are moving up the food chain. So you will be doing some straight teaching at the local college, you'll also be tutoring," he looked at a note on his desk, "Judy Potter, and supervising whoever applies to do your research project."

"Judy Potter?"

"Yes, that's what I said."

"I know her father."

"So?"

"He was my mother's solicitor."

"So do a good job or he might sue you."

"I erm...."

"Drink your tea Cathy and get your notice up on the board, ask Mary to sort out your first tutorial with Judy, after that you can arrange them by mutual whatever."

"I'll need to show them what to do with my dormice," I gasped blushing.

"Of course you will, several times if I understand the quality of our intake this year. If A-levels get any easier they'll be giving them away for tokens on cornflakes. Still as long as they can afford six grand a year in tuition fees, we'll take 'em. It's what helps fund the proper research we do."

"Is my research not proper then?" I asked with a hint of indignation.

"Of course it is, but without money, we can't do anything. The government will fund so much, the EU will give us a bit more and so does your boyfriend's bank, but we have an awful lot to do with it including getting one or two of these little oiks a bachelor's degree for helping us grown ups do our bit. Let's face it, to most of them, stuffing a ferret down their trousers and farting is as much research as they've ever done, unless you include empirical research into alcohol poisoning."

"Right, finished your tea?" he asked and I nodded, putting the mug down on his desk. "Well take it out and wash it up, or I'll set Mary on you. Go on bugger off and do some work!"

I picked up my mug and walked!

An hour later I was down at my desk in the lower lab when my mobile rang. "Hello?"

"Hi, is that Cathy?"

"It is, how can I help."

"It's Judy Potter," there was an embarrassed giggle.

"Oh yes, we have to set a time for a tutorial." I kept it matter of fact hoping she wouldn't speak to her father, although I'm sure she already knew of my notoriety. "Look I'm in lab three at the moment, do you want to come down with your diary."

"Is that okay?"

"Course, but I'm not going to be here all day."

"Can my friend come?"

This puzzled me, was it to gawp at the weirdo or did she feel threatened in some way?" "Erm, I suppose so, but I've only been asked to tutor one of you."

" 'Kay, see you in a minute."

I switched off my phone and wondered what would happen next. It had been a strange day even by my standards. While I waited I looked at the notice I was going to put on the board.

'Research Project.

Linked with the UK and EU government survey of endangered mammals, a place or two has become available for a research assistant, studying the common dormouse. Will include night time fieldwork, may be unsuitable for lone female workers for safety reasons.

Contact Cathy Watts via Prof. Agnew's Office.'

"Hi, I'm Judy Potter," I turned around from my desk and regarded the young woman who had just entered the lab. She was about my height and a bit dumpy with straggly brown hair partly covering a pretty face which was spoilt by a large nose. She wore the regulation jeans and sweatshirt.

"Hello, I'm Cathy Watts." I uncurled myself from the stool I'd been sat on and stood up to shake hands with her.

"You're much prettier than I expected," the words sort of slipped out of her mouth with nerves.

"Am I, does it matter, I'm only trying to get you through your course not marry you!"

She blushed and giggled, "They said you were a boy."

"Oh," I shrugged my shoulders, "Do I look like a boy?"

"No, you're a beautiful lady." She blushed even more.

"It's my brains you're supposed to be here for. Shall we start again." I stood up and held out my hand, "I'm Cathy Watts."

"Judy Potter, pleased to meet you Miss Watts."

"Cathy, let's keep it informal," I suggested.

"Okay, Cathy. Pleased to meet you." She blushed again and her hand felt clammy with sweat.

"What happened to your bodyguard?"

"Erm?"

"You were coming with a friend, remember?"

"Oh he had to go. Actually I'm quite glad, 'cos he'd fancy you more than me."

"We'll I think my fiance would prefer it that way too," I lied confidently.

We set a date and discussed her difficulties, she was going to be bringing some of her work to show me. I wondered if it was all worth it, especially once she spoke to her father. I did think about imposing some sort of confidentiality clause on her, 'what we discuss you can't tell anyone else without my permission and I'll do the same.' But I thought that was asking for trouble. If she thinks I'm a girl fine, if she thinks I'm a boy fine, I shall act as I always do - impeccably.

As soon as she was gone, I ran out to my car shot home and showered and changed to go and see Simon. When I got there his room was empty and I had a mini-heart-attack. I ran out onto the ward accosting a nurse. "Where is Simon Cameron?"

"In the bathroom, I think." She gave me a very strange look, "Are you all right?"

"I think so, yes I think so."

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 124

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Fiction

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

Easy Peasy Ha - you try writing them!
by Arrrrrrrrrrrgharad
part is anybody still counting? Okay, I only asked.
one hundred plus two dozen.

When I saw Simon limp out of the toilet, I flew to him and my hug nearly knocked him over. There were tears rolling down my cheeks and I felt so emotional, I just couldn't help myself.

"Hey what's wrong babe?" I loved it when he called me that, even though I knew Pamela Anderson doesn't, like it I mean.

"I didn't know where you were," I sobbed like some demented child.

"I was only taking a pee." He held me with his good arm.

"I'm sorry," I sobbed, "I saw the empty bed and I...."

"Put two and two together and made a couple o'dozen."

"My maths isn't very good but it isn't that bad!" I complained.

"Okay already, one dozen, is that better?" he raised his voice and I burst into tears again. "All right, how about half a dozen?"

"It doesn't matter now, anyway," I pouted.

"Jeez, bloody women!" he said loudly enough for a nurse to look up and say, 'Watch it mister or it's an enema for you tomorrow!' We heard laughter from down the corridor.

"This is a conspiracy!" he exclaimed and led me back into his room. He lay on the bed and I saw the pain spasm across his face from his sternum. I burst into tears again.

"What is the matter with you tonight?" he said looking more concerned than angry.

"I don't know," I wailed like a defective fire tender.

"Come on calm down and take deep breaths, slow deep breaths." I went to speak and he shushed me and made me breathe slowly and deeply. Before either of us could speak, in popped a nurse and handed us each a cup of tea. She winked at him going out and I glared.

"There is nothing going on, okay!"

"Why did she wink at you, then?"

"I thought she winked at you," he lied but I savagely counter-attacked.

"Winked at me, she was looking at you. Besides why would she wink at me, I'm not a lesbian even if she is!" My voice got progressively louder.

The door was knocked, and the sister poked her head in. "I'm sorry if you can't make less noise I shall have to ask you to leave. She fixed me with an icy stare and I swallowed hard and nodded.

Simon smirked and I felt so angry I almost slapped him. Then he began to laugh and I got angrier still. Then he began to laugh more loudly and I stood up to storm out but instead laughed too. I hate to think how long we giggled but it was several minutes, during which time I wet myself. I had to shove a paper towel in my knickers.

I tried to hide myself from Simon, but he saw enough to ask in total astonishment, "Are you sure that isn't real and you've been having me on all this time?"

"What?" I snapped.

"Well, it looks real to me, your doodah."

"Tough! I think I'd better go." I got up and left without even kissing him." I dashed back to the car and once more burst into tears, what the hell was going on inside me to make me like this. It couldn't have been hormones because I hadn't taken any for three days, I forgot.

I got my act together enough to drive home, hoping I didn't have an accident or run someone's cat over. I managed it, then I ran up to my room and slammed the door and howled for half an hour.

Finally, the rustling in my knickers reminded me that I hadn't changed them, so I stripped off and went in the shower. Once I had a cuppa in front of me, I decided to call for help.

"Stella, I think I'm going crazy."

"Going, you must be certifiable to go out with Simon."

"I'm serious."

"So am I," she giggled. "So what has led you to make this amazing discovery, realising that everyone is just as crazy or what?"

"No, I keep having crying fits. I screamed at Simon tonight in the hospital, a nurse winked at him and I went berserk."

"Oh!"

"I puked in the prof's waste bin, and then fell asleep in his office."

"Ah,"

"And I've got to do a teaching plan for a series of lessons at the local sixth form college.Plus he's allocated me a student to tutor and I have to recruit someone to do my field work. I don't think I can cope with all that and my dad."

"Ahhhhhhhh," she said, "Now it sounds as if we are coming to the crutch of the matter, to quote John Lennon."

"Well go on then," I exhorted.

"Go on what?"

"Quote John Lennon."

"I just did."

"You did?"

"Oh all right then, "Thur's a lorra people in Liverpewel."

"Sounded more Cilla Black to me," I replied.

"Probably 'cos I'm female and he was male."

"Could be, I don't think I'll try it," I offered. If I had sounded like a Scouser, I'd have been surprised and if I'd sounded like a man, I'd have been devastated.

"Yeah okay, what were we talking about?"

"John Lennon."

"Before that?"

"I dunno."

"Oh, okay. How do you feel now?"

"Exhausted."

"How about an early night?"

"Yeah okay," I yawned back to her. I switched off the phone and was asleep in moments, even with damp hair.

I awoke in the night needing a wee and when I went to the loo it all fell out. To be precise, something inside me slipped a little and this tiny worm like thing protruded from my 'labia'. It sort of summed up the perfect day, and I sat on the bog and howled for another half an hour.

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 125

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Fiction

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Other Keywords: 

  • More things to do with superglue and superfluous skin.

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

Stella makes Cathy a tempting offer....

Easy As Falling Off A Bike.
by Bonzi & Tiddles
part: half way to two hundred and fifty, or an eighth of a thousand! (that is frightening!!!)

I eventually calmed down through exhaustion as much as anything else and got off the toilet, my bum stuck to the seat and when I detached myself, had a nice ring around my bum and my foot had gone to sleep.

What to do in such emergencies? Make a cuppa. As I drank the delicious fluid I tried to reflect upon the situation I was in. I suspected that my stress levels had overwhelmed my threshold and it was simply stress, either that or I was pregnant! Well I had lain with a man - that cheered me up and I giggled at the absurdity.

See a cuppa does cheer you up, it also makes you want to wee, so back to the loo I went, which reminded me of something that was hanging over me. Well not exactly, it was more hanging out of me and would need some attention.

By now it was nearly five, and I decided I'd stay up and try and sort these things out. I climbed in the shower and after copious soaking and lubrication with shower gel, pulled everything back to its original configuration, except the ovoid bits, they stayed where I'd shoved 'em. I wasn't sure whether or not I should be worried.

After drying myself, I decided the skin looked okay, which was a pleasant surprise. I did think about alowing them to dangle for a few days but then changed my mind. I preferred to maintain the illusion.

By six thirty, and hot and sweaty again, I had managed to refold and glue into cosmetic and urinary satisfaction my aberrant bits. I needed another cuppa, boy did I need another cuppa and not to make any quick movements!

I decided I should have a word with my GP when I had a chance to make sure I wasn't doing anything dangerous. I couldn't see how I was unless I became allergic to the glue, in which case it would all blister and fall off. Not a nice idea, even though it made me giggle, as long as I didn't sit too upright, things were tight, in a manner of speaking.

It was wednesday again, goodness how time flies when you are reconfiguring! I made some breakfast and was in the middle of reading the syllabus for the local college when the phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Hi Cathy, it's Stella. I'm having Simon home tomorrow are you still good for the weekend?"

"Wow, oh yeah, course." I lied, I had forgotten all about it.

"Oh good, I'll get some food in. I expect you'll enjoy cooking for your man, won't you?"

"Absolutely," I was becoming such a liar. I didn't know if he'd even speak to me after I stormed out on him last night.

"Is there anything you want me to get in?"

"Not too worried, I'm quite adaptable as long as you have a tin opener and a microwave."

"A real Nigella eh?"

"Absolutely, I can open a tin or switch on a microwave while wearing red lipstick, as well as any woman."

"Spoken like a true feminist."

Her remark took me a little by surprise. Me a feminist? In a broader context I supposed I was, except I tended to imagine short haired, bra burning, hairy legged, peace-niks camping outside an American Air base. But if feminist meant supporting the rights of women, count me in.

"I think I ought to tell you that Simon and I parted on less than happy terms last night."

"You haven't dumped him have you?"

"No, why?"

"Well I just bought this new hat and...."

"Stella, what are you on about. Women only buy hats for weddings and.... oh!" I blushed. "It's bad luck to buy things like that prematurely, the way we're going we might kill each other before then."

"It's okay it's black, I could wear it to the funerals."

"You are such a comfort." My psychic strangling techniques were obviously not working, she was still talking!

"Oh I try to be hon, but sometimes with Simon it is difficult."

"What should I do about...., I mean after...., well you know, last night?"

"Oh just go and see him, he's like a pet dog, he's usually forgotten about ten minutes later. So if he does anything to make you mad hit him there and then or he won't know what it's all about."

"I think I need to think about that Stella." I was still processing it, the idea of treating him like a puppy or kitten was not actually interacting with my own recollections of him. 'Bad boy, down!' Nah, that didn't resonate at all. Now like a large child, maybe. 'Be a good boy for mummy,' yeah that could work.

"I'll pop and see him this afternoon, thought I'd best go and see my dad as it's about a week since I was last there."

"Yeah okay, when will you be back down?"

"How about if I come saturday morning?"

"Yeah, fine. Couldn't bring your bread machine, could you?"

"Course I can."

"Oh luvverly, only Simon mentioned how nice your bread was and I thought, I'd like to try some."

"I'll do some over the weekend."

"If you do, make sure to save me some because he'll eat the bloody lot."

"I will either save you some or make some fresh for you, how's that?"

"You are the best sister-in-law a girl could wish for."

"You keep tempting providence Stella."

"Well shall we say, virtual sis-in-law?"

"Why not just Cathy, a good friend?"

"Are you telling me the wedding is off?"

"There is no wedding, Stella."

"But there will be as soon as you're sorted?"

"I don't know, that could be years away."

"What? Why is that?"

"Well to start with, I have to do a full year before they'll refer me for reassignment surgery. I was lucky to get the hormones so easily, some have to do that before they get them."

"Well don't worry about surgery, I know just the man."

"What?"

"An experienced urologist. Admittedly he hasn't done one for a year or two, but I'm sure he'd do it for you and he owes me a few favours."

"Stella, much as I'd love to have it done this afternoon, I think we're supposed to follow certain protocols."

"That's only to protect the quacks, in case you complain afterwards that it was all a big mistake. Apparently one or two do."

Having been caught up on a roller-coaster myself, I could understand that it could happen. I didn't think it applied to me, but who was I to gainsay the experts. Besides, Dr thomas had been so supportive of me, I wouldn't like to put her in an invidious position, nor alienate her. I liked her too much.

"Okay, I'll keep it mind when we get around to referral time."

"How about during the Christmas vacs?"

"What?" had I misheard her in some way.

"Well things are quiet and Michael, the surgeon is working. His daughter's getting married so he cant go skiing. He was piste off by it all. Ha ha." She laughed at her own joke.

"I'll have only done about three months by then Stella, it hardly qualifies me does it? Besides I need the referral confirmed by another shrink."

"I can probably arrange that too, have a tame semi-retired psychiatrist, I look after his prostate. When you have that in your hands, they tend to be putty."

"Stella, this is cutting corners. I don't want to upset my own doctor."

"It won't I'm sure."

"I'm not."

"Well suss her out the next time you see her. The offer is there if you want it."

"Thanks, I do appreciate it."

"Well I did see a dress to go with the hat and...."

"I have to go Stella, see you saturday."

"Oh okay."

I made some more tea, having abandoned my thoughts of teaching for the moment. As I sat dunking a digestive biscuit, I wondered if she wasn't perhaps right. I knew I wasn't going to change my mind, not for all the tea in China. So what was the point of waiting? especially after the struggle in the early hours, which was now throbbing gently.

I had no doubts about the surgery and who I was, but as for marriage, well I had plenty. I mean could I cope with such a pushy and bossy sister in law? Could I cope with Simon on a long term basis and the rest of his looney family? Would I be Lady Catherine, or was that just going to invite the spleen of the tabloids and invites from glossy mags to photograph my bidet?

Why was life so complicated? The ideas of early surgery were now buzzing around my head like flies around a midden. It was so tempting, it really was.

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 126

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Fiction

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

Cathy plays a googley and promises to love, honour and bake cakes....read on.

Easy As Falling Down A Hole.
by Sir Isaac Newton & Bonzi.
part:126.

I was getting myself packed to pop in and hopefully kiss and make up with Simon and then dash up to Bristol. The throb down below had practically eased off but I wondered if I needed to find something more comfortable.

I went onto the internet, most of the gaff type thingies look horrendous, mind you, you can even get one with pretend menses blood, how gross! That would have blown Simon's mind! Don't think I'll bother.

I wondered about a different sort of glue and after a bit of Googling found some silicon glue used for prosthetics, they also had latex adhesives. I looked on their list of suppliers and found one in Bristol near the BBC in Whiteladies Road. I phoned them and asked if they had the product and remover, you need a solvent. They did and the cost together was going to be under twenty five pounds. I would try a different sticker next time. For good measure, I also packed the superglue.

Arriving at Simon's ward, I could see he was busy with the physio, doing breathing exercises to help his injured sternum, I presumed. Anyway, I didn't scream at him because some young woman was running her hands all over his body, even though he was obviously enjoying some of it.

I apologised to the Ward Sister for my hystrionics the night before saying I had just started my period. She glared at me for a moment then smiled, giving me a knowing nod. I blushed, not only because it was embarrassing but also because I was lying yet again.

The physio finished with lover-boy and I strolled in, and almost before he could look up, I planted a very suggestive kiss on his lips. He stopped struggling very quickly.

"I'm sorry about last night, I don't know why I was so emotional."

"Time of the month, I expect."

"Yeah, probably," I agreed it was easier than brain storming for answers. "So am I forgiven?"

"What for?"

"Last night, shouting at you and storming off."

"Yeah, why?" He shrugged his shoulders and winced as the movement involved his chest muscles.

I began to wonder if Stella was right and should I commence puppy training? Instead I said, "Thank you, you are the sweetest man I know." Then proceeded to tongue wrestle with him. Once I won by two falls to a submission, I explained that I was on my way to Bristol.

"How is your dad?"

"I don't exactly know, I presume because they haven't called he's still alive, but otherwise, search me?"

"Okay, take all your clothes off."

"What?"

"Take all your clothes off."

" I will not."

"How am I gonna search you then?"

"Search me, what for?"

"You just asked me to."

"When?"

"Just now, when I asked about your dad, you said, 'search me', so I'm only doing what you asked me to do."

"You are as crazy as your sister."

"No I am not," he said firmly, "no one is as mad as Stella."

"I mean she keeps trying to marry me off to you. Only because she bought herself a new hat."

"I hope she succeeds."

"In what, finding the outfit to go with the hat?"

"No, in marrying us off, together."

"Sure you do. What did you say?"

"I hope she succeeds...."

"The bit after that."

"In marrying us off together."

"Does that perchance mean, to each other?"

"Yes, precisely that."

"You are as crazy as her. Wait here, I'm just going to ask them to section you."

He lay back and roared with laughter.

"I don't think this is funny. If it's just a tease it's rather cruel if it isn't, then it's probably ill conceived to the point of foolishness."

"It may be foolish, but it isn't a joke or game."

"I hope that wasn't a proposal."

"No, would you like one."

"No I do not. Please Simon, I am going to shout again. Look we agreed we would wait to make this a full relationship and we both know why. I accept my responsibility for that."

"You're not responsible for nature's short-comings."

"That's very kind of you Simon, but I'm happy to accept some responsibility for it. But until we have a full relationship and coincidentally, I am legally available too, if you take my meaning." He understood immediately about my legal status. "Then, if we are still compatible, or we think we are, then I would consider a proposal from you as serious."

"You should have been a lawyer, not only would you earn better money than those furry varmints get you, but you'd also be in your element, doing word games."

"I'm in my element when I'm outdoors in the countryside or on my bike."

"When is your birthday?" he asked.

"Why?"

"I wondered what star sign you were."

"I thought it was sun sign."

"Okay, friggin' sun sign, bloody Virgo I expect."

"No, I'm Sagittarius."

"Remind me not to let you near a bow and arrow."

"I have fired them, did archery for a bit in school."

"Any good?"

"I could have made the school team, the girls one."

"Oh!"

"But I could probably hit something the size of a man from thirty or forty metres." I was exaggerating a bit, couldn't hit a barn door from that distance but he didn't know it.

"I think I'll keep you away from bows and arrows."

"Yeah, putting a recurve bow together is quite good fun, can take your finger off if you get it wrong."

"I'll take your word for it."

"You should try it, quieter than guns, just as deadly. If those two poachers had been after us with bows, I suspect we'd both be on cold slabs now."

"Can we talk about something else?" asked Simon checking out his current injuries.

"Yeah course. Oh, Stella asked me to bring my bread machine when I come down on Saturday."

"Oh good-o," he smiled, "at least I won't starve then, soup and bread at weekends. Will you bake me some cakes as well."

"If you want me too." I could see myself spending the whole weekend in the kitchen.

"Oh yeah, brilliant. Can you do an almond slice?"

"I suppose so, it isn't that difficult if you have the ingredients."

"Can you bring them with you?"

"I suppose I could." Suddenly, this twenty something scion of the commodities section of his bank, was like a schoolboy. I felt more like his mother than his girlfriend.

"Doesn't Stella bake?"

"Not very often, well the odd sponge, and usually when she makes them they are odd."

"My first attempt cost about a thousand pounds."

"Wow!" his mouth dropped open.

"It caught fire and they had to redo part of the kitchen." He looked at me with astonishment, then the sides of his mouth wrinkled slightly and I started to laugh. He joined me, and we roared together. "When I took him the first cake in hospital, I had to reassure him I hadn't burnt the house down, before he would eat any." The tears were rolling down my cheeks, but this time with laughter. What a difference in a day.

We kissed and cuddled as best we could for a little while and I told him I had to go.

"You drive carefully."

"I always do."

"That's what Stella says."

"Compared to her Lewis Hamilton drives carefully."

"True, but that doesn't give you license to go bananas."

"I shall be a good girl Uncle Simon."

"Don't you Uncle Simon me, you minx. Go on, push off before I lose my temper."

"Not again, I only helped you find it the other day, bloody men. Which drawer do you usually keep it in?"

When he picked up his pee-pot and aimed it at me, I decided it was time to leave. I did.

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 127

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Fiction

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

Life gets more fraught for our heroine.

Easy As Falling Off A Bike.
by Angharad & Lance Groinstrain.
part 127.

I made it out of the City before the traffic got too bad, I also made some progress on the motorway before it all clogged to a standstill. I have seen computer models where they show just volume of traffic can bring things to a complete stop. This seemed to be the case in point today. At least when you think that's the problem, you can curse everyone for being there, rather than feel the cold shiver when you pass an accident site, especially when the ambulance is still there waiting for the fire brigade to cut the victims out.

Half an hour after crawling north on the motorway, I spotted the mess on the other side of the road. Cars and vans all over the place, police and fire tenders with blue lights flashing and the ambulance, just waiting. I didn't want to look, to gawp and stare. So why did my eye keep focusing on it all?

Somebody tooted a horn, behind me somewhere and I came back to the traffic my side of the barrier. I prayed no one was badly injured but saw enough of the damaged cars to think it was very likely.

Eventually, the speed of the crawl, became a trot through canter to gallop, on the other side it was stationary for about seven miles then I noticed the police had closed the other carriageway at the next junction. I was glad I wasn't going back south today.

It was rush hour in Bristol and I went straight to the hospital to see Daddy. I did and was horrified to see how much weight he'd lost with the virus. He was skin and bone.

I spoke with the Ward Sister, "If I was to do him a series of soups and freeze them, is there anyway they could be stored here for him?"

"Not really, we have a small fridge that's it."

"What about the kitchens?"

"You could ask them, but they may refuse if they haven't cooked it." She called up the catering manager who told me on the phone it would contravene so many of his food hygiene protocols that I stopped him mid-sentence and gave up. Daddy would just have to cope with what I could get to him when I could.

I'd grabbed a fresh soup and small loaf from Tesco on the way in. After pleading with him for quarter of an hour he agreed to eat some, then grumbled all the time he did.

"Thanks Daddy, I'll make you some tomorrow, I promise," I crossed my heart more from childish practise than present belief. He nodded and grumbled some more.

"Voo woo eed or unny?" he said with great difficulty.

"Something about honey?" I guessed, wrongly apparently because he got very cross with himself, and I think with me.

He moved his good hand, flicking his thumb over his fingers, "Unny," he repeated several times.

"Money?" I guessed and he sighed as if at last the idiot had got it.

"Voo woo eed or?" he tried again.

I shook my head, "Have I got enough?" it didn't sound anything like what he'd said.

"Ess," he clenched his fist and shook it punching a success.

"I suppose I could get some more, I have shopping to get tomorrow," I said blithely, then a horrible idea came to me. "I hope you don't think I'm trying to up the ante here?" I almost snapped at him.

"Vie avv voo?" he managed to get out and there was a hard look in his eye.

"If you thought that was the case, I'd have taken the money you offered me for the bike, or do you think that was a con too?" I was getting angrier by the minute, but instead of the red hot anger I shown to Simon earlier, this was ice cold, and his eyes began to register some fear.

"You realise I am about this far from walking out of here," I said holding my thumb and finger about half an inch from each other. "And if I do I won't ever come back. I don't need your stinking money and I won't be bought. If I change my mind, then it will be to Simon or his family, they are billionaires, they make Richard Branson seem impoverished."

He slumped in his chair and began weeping silently. His only defence against my rapidly increasing fire power.

This time I was inured, detached from emotion an intellectual disgust with him. I had just bust a gut to get to him and this was all the thanks I got. Well fuck him!

"I'll call by tomorrow if I can find time." Having snapped this at him in cold hissing voice, I grabbed my coat and was storming off the ward when one of the nurses intercepted me and pointed to the office.

"Proud of ourselves are we?" she asked.

"What business of yours is it?" I said back coldly.

"He's a patient of mine whom you have just bullied. I don't like bullies."

"Good job you you didn't meet him a year or two ago then."

"Why?"

"He nearly beat me to death. I don't owe him anything, and he can't buy me either."

"He can't beat you now, so you enjoyed getting your own back did you?"

"No."

"So why did you do it?"

"Because he's playing mind games with me, like he used to when I was a kid. Then he threatened me, now it's emotional blackmail."

"He's very weak at the moment."

"I'm sorry, I don't wish him ill. I try not to even think about him."

"That's not true." She stared me in the eye as she spoke and I couldn't hold her gaze. I looked at the floor and felt a tear drip off my nose. "I've seen you with him, I saw you watching when the physio was here, the pride you had when he walked a step or two. It was almost palpable. I've also seen the way you made food for him and fed him. His eyes sparkled with pride in you. You couldn't hurt him if you wanted too, you don't have it in you."

I stood shaking my head. The tears were now dripping to form an abstract pattern on the linoleum floor. "I mustn't let him control me again, I can't." I looked at the nurse's face and said, "He fucked me up before, I can't let him do it again. This time I will kill myself."

She held me firmly by the elbows forcing me to look into her eyes again, "No you won't, there is no need for anyone to be hurt. Come and sit down and have a drink of tea and just calm down."

She pushed me into the chair and I sat trembling wondering why I was such a bad person. Was it my destiny to be self destructive, just as I seemed to living my dream? A bit like Moses being stopped from entering the Promised Land. I liked that analogy, same bloody God who it seemed could piss all over me when he felt like it.

Give me someone with whom I am blissfully happy and get them shot, okay, they didn't die probably so they can be used against me again in the future. Then my sense of guilt? Firmly entrenched through childhood indoctrination and played like a fiddle by my dad, one of his fucking disciples! I seethed with impotence.

"Here, drink this," she placed a mug of steaming fluid in my shaking hands. "Look I know all we women have difficulties juggling jobs, careers and family, not to mention housework and stuff."

"I work in Portsmouth, my boyfriend is in hospital there, he was accidentally shot."

"Oh dear, not badly I hope."

"Not critically no, but he comes out on the weekend and I have to dash back there to nurse him."

"Oh."

"My prof has just given me a teaching assignment and I have to recruit and instruct someone to take over my field project, I also have student to tutor."

"Sounds like a busy time."

"I don't think I can do it all and come up here to make him soup."

"I see your problem. Our's is he won't eat hospital food."

"So that gives him carte blanche to blackmail me does it?"

The nurse now looked away from my face and shrugged her shoulders. "You are his daughter, he is your dad."

"Only because he stopped ignoring me. I left home because he nearly killed me. I swore I would never go back. Then what happens? My mother dies and he has a bloody stroke. If there was any justice it should have been him who died not her. I miss her so much." I put the cup down and burst into tears, the nurse moved her chair around and hugged me.

"There, there," she cooed my head on her shoulder and she rubbing my back, "let all the pain out, let it all go."

I honestly can't say how long I sobbed on her shoulder but it was minimally several minutes. The pain I felt was like a large knife twisting inside my heart as I wept for my mother. Part of me wished I had taken the shot that hit Simon, and killed me. Then I could join her, except I didn't know if I believed in any of that after life bunk. I just wished I could have spent a few more minutes with her before she died, just to be accepted as her daughter, then I could have died happy myself.

To think, I spent a year away from her with virtually no contact because of him. How I could have used that time had I known I wouldn't see her ever again. If only I had known. I must be a bad person. I must be a bad person.

"I must be a bad person." I whispered out loud.

"Why do you say that?" she whispered back to me.

"Because God hates me."

"Do you really think that?" she continued rubbing my back.

"Some days I do."

"And today is one of them?"

"Yes."

"Have you spoken to our hospital chaplain?"

"I don't want priests near me." I pulled away from her.

"Okay, okay you don't have to speak to him, except he's a nice old boy and might be able to help you through some of these issues."

"I think I might have told him to fuck off when my mother died."

"Oh, not good."

"Well he started off with his Christian claptrap. I wasn't in the mood for it."

"I see. He may not remember you."

"I should think my image is seared onto the back of his eyeballs."

"Oh, pity."

"I'll be all right." I shuddered and sat up.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, hell is that the time?" I pretended I could see the clock across the way but it was so blurry from my tears I couldn't read it. "I have to go."

"You sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, thanks for your help. Don't tell him, will you?"

"Nah, this was between just you and me."

I stood up and did up my coat, wiping my eyes on a tissue and suspecting that I had makeup everywhere. "Thank you," I said proffering my hand.

She took it and squeezed gently, "You're welcome. Take care now won't you?"

"Yeah," I said almost dismissively.

"I mean it."

I nodded, "Yes okay, so do I."

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 128

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Fiction

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

Cathy gets lost and finds something....read on.

Easy As Falling Off A Bike.
by wassername.
part: "I am not a number I am a free man." (The Prisoner)

I felt like someone had boiled me and put me through a mangle. I'd seen one in a museum once, big rollers that women used to squeeze the water out of their washing. We saw it at the Welsh National Folk Museum at St Fagans near Cardiff, on a school trip. I wasn't sorry that I didn't live in those days and certainly wouldn't have wanted to be a female in those days, high risk of dying in childbirth.

I managed to find my car, almost on autopilot and I sat for some time before driving off. I might even have dozed for a few minutes. My head was spinning around inside like a top with a nuclear core and my stomach felt cramped and tight.

I had opened the Pandora's boxes of religion and grief, there was unfinished business with both. But how to resolve it, that was the question which was incarcerating my mind. Until I found some sort of answer I was lost to the question.

Thankfully I had filled the car's fuel tank before going to the hospital, when I'd bought the soup for Daddy. I drove all night, I don't know where, I just drove.

I wound up in the country, having pulled up in a layby and fallen asleep. I had no idea where I was when I woke up and tried to stretch my aching body. I had a drink from the water bottle I always keep with me, then I needed to find somewhere to wee. No one was about, so I nipped into a field and watered some dock leaves.

I always keep a few things in the car with me, some wet wipes, a drink and some emergency food, usually a couple of cereal bars. I ate one now and drank some more water. I gradually came more awake and a quick wipe over with the wet wipes, helped me reinforce that. I had removed all my makeup, it was trashed anyway with my crying, and I didn't feel a need to replace it. In fact I couldn't feel anything except tired, my senses were numbed.

I looked at my watch, it was just coming up to eight o'clock, with that I heard a church clock begin to peal. Almost in a trance I walked towards the noise. I saw the odd pedestrian and was passed by the occasional car, but this had to be one of the quietest villages I'd ever been to.

I saw a sign, 'To the C16th Church.' I followed it. It was a quaint looking place and I walked down through the path to the porch. I felt for my handbag, I did have it with me and breathed a sigh of relief when I recalled locking the car and putting the keys inside my bag. I checked and they were there.

I walked into the porch and to my surprise the door was unlatched, I pushed and it opened, and I walked into the cool musty smelling building. I could hear someone moving about but I felt it was a place of peace and might help me think. I walked as quietly as I could, my heels clicking on the stone flags, towards the back of the church and sat down.

I looked around but only noticed how ancient everything seemed, but this sense of peace pervaded everything and I decided if there was a God, then this might aptly be a so called, 'House Of God', because certainly there was something here.

I sat drifting in my thoughts but apart from feeling calmer, my head still buzzed. I pulled out the hassock, or little kneeling cushion, from the back of the chair in front and knelt down on it, trying a prayer to something I wasn't sure if I believed in.

I had difficulty focusing, which was part of the problem. Maybe I just needed Dr Thomas and her skills or a therapist of some sort? I was losing the battle here. I sat back down and thought of my mother, and the tears came. I was so absorbed in my own feelings, and had a tissue up to my eyes when I became aware of someone sat alongside me.

"Hi, it's so peaceful here isn't it?" A quick glance showed the speaker was a woman perhaps fortyish, wearing a fleece jacket and jeans.

I nodded rather than spoke, I was too choked to emit any coherent linguistic sounds.

"You're upset about something," she said quietly, almost mesmerically
I nodded.

"They say a trouble shared is a trouble halved, want to see if it's true?"

Somehow, this place and this woman felt trustworthy and I needed to talk with someone or go completely mad. "I'd like that," I said with a croaky voice.

"Good, I'm Marguerite, by the way."

"Cathy," I replied taking a deep breath to try and calm myself enough to talk. I was still shaking a little.

"Why are you here?"

"Good question. I don't know." I shrugged, some tears came and I took a deep breath to try and suppress them. It almost worked.

"You look tired."

"I am, I think I drove around in circles most of the night."

"Why was that?"

"Dunno trying to think."

"Think about what?"

"Dunno really."

"Are you sure?"

I began to feel the tears escape my eyes again. I felt her hand on mine and she said calming things. "I'm,(sob) a bad person." I sobbed heavily and she put her arm around me.

"Why are you a bad person?"

"I'm (sob) an abom(sob)ination."(sob)

"Wow, that's a pretty strong indictment. Why do you bring this charge against yourself?"

"I'm unnatural," I managed a whole phrase without sobbing.

"What do you mean,'unnatural'?" It was the gentlest interrogation I had ever received.

"I'm really a man." I burst into tears again.

"Are you, I wouldn't have known?"

"I'm waiting for reassignment surgery."

"I hope it will make you feel more complete," she squeezed my hand, "although you look pretty good to me."

"I've offended God, I'm an abomination."

"So is that why you're here?"

"I suppose so," I was sobbing again.

"What do you expect God to do?"

"I dunno, kill me."

"Kill you? What for, for being yourself?"

"Yes," said a tiny voice from under the tissue.

"My goodness, what God do you believe in? He sounds a real tyrant to me."

"I don't know, I don't know if I believe in anything except I seem cursed."

"By God?"

"I suppose so."

"Do you feel threatened here?"

"No," I blushed, I was being such a baby. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," she smiled at me and there was such warmth in her eyes. "This place is a place of sanctuary, protected by the love of God, not the wrath of some ancient, Old Testament deity. I suspect that is what brought you here, so you could see that you are loved for yourself. We are all equal in the eyes of God, none of us are better or worse, none of us are hated or despised. These are all things we do as humans to each other, we don't need a God to do that, we manage perfectly well by ourselves."

I almost laughed at the absurd picture she painted of humanity."Why did he take my mother, before I could make my peace with her?"

"Gosh, another accusation. Did you actually see God come and take her."

"Now you're mocking me," I said and went to stand.

"Please sit down and answer my question."

I slumped back in the chair. "No I didn't."

"Were you there when she died, it sounds as if you were."

"Yes, she had never seen me as a girl. I was with a woman friend and we were shopping in Southampton when my dad phoned to say she was in hospital and to come straight away. I would have gone back to my room to change, but that was in Portsmouth and my friend thought we didn't have time. She was right, we got there and she died moments later."

"I'm sorry, did she say anything?"

I was crying again, "Yeah, she said, 'I thought I heard my Charlie, but he's sent two angels in his place.' She lay back and died."

"So she saw you and your friend as angels?"

"Dunno, she was dying."

"I can see why she might make that mistake."

"I can't."

"Two beautiful creatures approaching her."

"What Stella and me!" I almost laughed at her.

"Thats what she said she saw."

"It could have been a delirium, various brain chemicals. I'm a biologist, there are lots of explanations for death experiences."

"So am I, I have doctorate in biochemistry. I'm also open to the chemicals creating this effect as the mechanism, perhaps designed by something to ease our passing."

"Oh not Intelligent Design, and all that crap."

"No, that's just poor scientific reasoning."

"I agree absolutely." I looked at her again, "If you're a scientist, what are you doing here, in a place of superstition?"

"Whoa, another accusation. Answer me this first, you're a scientist, why are you here?"

"I don't know, accident?"

"Meaningful coincidence or synchronicity as Jung would have put it?"

"My consultant says Jung was barking," I chuckled.

"Did he do...."

"She, it's a woman," I corrected.

"Sorry, has she done an analytical session with Jung, then?"

"I doubt it she's far too young," I sniggered at my accidental pun and so did she.

"Very good, you look better than when I first sat down."

"I feel better, thank you." I smiled at her and she smiled back. "So why are you here?" I asked.

"Why d'you think?" She answered back.

"Don't tell me you're some angelic being sent by God's press office?"

"Oh I like that, can I quote you on that?"

"If you want," I wasn't sure if she was still mocking me.

"I work here."

"What? I don't understand."

"This is my parish."

"What you're a priest?"

"Yes."

"Why aren't you wearing a dog collar?"

"Why aren't you in a lab coat?"

"Okay, I surrender, God got me."

"You talk in riddles. I don't usually come into the church this early unless I'm doing a service. I'm not until this evening, but for some reason I found myself here looking for a book I needed for a sermon I was trying to write on St Thomas."

"I've read his Gospel, one of the Gnostic ones."

"It's lovely isn't it."

"My parents didn't think so, wasn't canon, so everything I said they argued against."

"They gave you hard time then?"

"Yeah what with my gender thing and my heresy."

"Heresy, wow, what sort of Christians were they?"

"Born again Evangelicals."

"Oh dear." She sighed and shook her head, "It's so sad that people don't think about what they believe. It's good to challenge things until they feel right, not just comfortable."

"You sound like my old RI teacher, she was a physicist as well. Taught me a lot about acceptance."

"Acceptance, are you sure? In order for others to accept you, you need to accept yourself and I thought I heard some wavering there."

"Yeah," I looked at the floor.

"And that's easy to blame on God?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

"Can I give you a picture to think about?"

"Yes please do."

"Okay, what if God is everything and nothing, all paradox and yet so simple, we can't see him or her or it, like wood for trees? What if we create our own destinies, from our genes and our culture and our experiences, our education and our relationships? Some of us will die younger than others, some will be rich, some poor in material terms. Others will be rich in experiential terms, feel loved and so on. The variables are endless. What if God was something inside us as well as wherever else people have put him? How would you feel about him or her or it, then?"

"I don't know. I need to think about that."

"Have you had breakfast?"

"No, I erm fell asleep in the car."

"Come back to the vicarage with me and have a hot drink and a bite of breakfast?"

"I hate to impose."

"You're not, besides I want to hear your answer."

I followed her back to a modern detached house, "There used to be a rector who lived in that old pile over there. It's an old folks home now, I'm happy with double glazing and cavity wall insulation." I nodded and we chuckled.

We had several cups of coffee and a bowl of porridge, followed by toast and jam. I was touched by her generosity.

"Now, my fee."

I sat back with a jolt and reached for my bag.

"No, not money, your answer to my hypothesis."

"It certainly feels more comfortable than my previous model."

"And?"

"Yeah, I couldn't blame anyone but myself for my situation."

"Why have you got to blame anyone? What if it's just your genes or DNA or rogue mitochondria somewhere in your brain. You can't help who you are, only what you become, what you do with it. Do you understand?"

"I think so."

"I don't believe anyone as pretty as you was ever a boy."

"I have dangly bits."

"So, lots of women have all sorts of genital variations."

"Not quite the same as mine."

"Don't be too sure, nature is very experimental and with six or seven billion of us on this poor planet, anything could happen."

"Well my birth certificate says boy."

"That's just a piece of paper which can be corrected."

"I have to go," I saw the time it was ten o'clock, "I have taken so much of your precious time."

"I've enjoyed the conversation. I hope all goes well with your surgery and I hope you you find someone to love you."

"I already have, he's in hospital in Portsmouth, a shooting accident." I went on to explain about Simon and Stella and looked at the clock it was now eleven.

"Marguerite, can I ask you something?"

"Of course Cathy."

"If once I get everything sorted, birth certificate, surgery and the rest. If I wanted to get married, would you marry me?"

"Wow! You don't ask small questions, do you?"

"I'm a scientist, remember."

"As you don't live in the parish I might have to ask my bishop, but he's pretty good. So off the top of my head I don't know. In my heart, yes I should love to marry you."

I teared up again and she hugged me. "Thank you, so much. You are an angelic being."

"Nah, you ask my husband, he'll put you right."

"Where is he?"

"He's away with my son at his mother's, they're doing some decorating for her."

"Oh, I'm sorry I'm asking such personal questions." I blushed.

"I've got one for you?"

"Oh, okay."

"Do you want to use the loo before you go?" We both laughed at that and she showed me where it was.

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 129

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Fiction

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

Easy As Falling Off A Bike.

you know the rest.

I sat in my little car, which thankfully had over half a tank of fuel left and pressed the sat nav, it would take about an hour to get home and I could make some soup but bread would be a problem, no time for the dough to rise or prove. Oh well, Daddy would have to compromise, I'd take him some potato instead.

I drove following the directions of the machine, having enough to do with coping in controlling the car and watching traffic, with all that was buzzing around my brain. I had met a woman who was as close to an angel as I was ever likely to meet. I felt truly blessed to have met her and to have her email address too. She insisted I told her I'd got home safe. How sweet of her.

I hadn't resolved my issues with religion or God, but I had released enough steam to be able to function for months without needing to worry about it. I was no longer angry with the universe, well for a week or two. Hell that's all part of having a personalised God, so you can complain everytime he lets you down, far better than blaming yourself.

I chuckled to myself as I drove, the idiocy of it all. If we didn't have emotions we wouldn't have problems, we have the brain capacity to solve any problem except one, dealing with emotional issues. That is what fucks us up but is also the small element which makes us human otherwise we'd all be like Mr Spock. Presumably, there'd be no gender problems, because that's all emotional stuff anyway. Maybe things would be better that way.

I drove a few miles exploring this in my mind and then suddenly stopped causing a large van behind me to do an emergency stop and swerve around me, "Stupid bitch," was the epithet with which he passed. I was glad I didn't live in a Spockian world because I actually enjoyed being a woman,even a 'stupid' one yeah I liked it. No I didn't I loved it.

I pulled into a layby and got out of the car and stood there and yelled as loud as I could, " I love being a woman." From a field nearby a cow added something of an addendum, but I don't understand low English. I then started to giggle uncontrollably at my own joke and wet myself.

It is not a nice aspect of being female having wet stuff running down ones thighs, I snatched a handful of tissues, locked the car after grabbing my handbag and nipped into a field, returning bare legged and knickerless. I would have to stop thinking funny things or go for a pee first.

I got home, in the shower, then after dressing made some quick soup for Dad, potato and ham. Only took an hour and I had some for my lunch too. Then a quick makeup job and I was off to the hospital. I was a bit late through the traffic and he was sitting hunched up in his chair looking at a magazine upside down.

A cold shiver went through my whole body, did this mean he could no longer read? I would have to check it out, but surrepticiously. How bad could that be to an intelligent man? It would remove about half my life, it would be like a form of blindness. It was too painful to contemplate.

"Hi Daddy, sorry I'm late, the traffic was awful." That wasn't the word that had originally sprung to mind but I was trying to moderate my language a little, women don't usually swear as much as men, or this one wasn't going to anymore.

His face lit up then imediately closed down again. Was he ill or going to make things difficult? I would try and keep my cool as long as I could, then kill him in cold blood! The b....lessings of the universe be upon you. Shi....ne a light!

"I've made you some fresh soup, I hope you like it." I poured some from the flask into the bowl I'd brought. I tied a napkin around his neck and tucked it under his arms to cover most of his chest. I dipped the spoon in the soup and loaded it, then moved it towards his mouth. He moved his head and nearly got an earful, of soup, that is.

"Do you not want this?" I pointed at the dish and looked at him, he glowered back at me. Oh boy, I counted to ten. "Are you not hungry?"
The reply was a silent glowering.

"Okay," do want me to read to you or make you a drink?" He glowered some more.

"Excuse me Daddy, I'll be back in a moment." I rose and walked to the nurses office and found the same nurse I'd spoken with the day before.

"He won't have his soup."

"No he wouldn't take anything today. Usually he has a cuppa for breakfast or a small drink of juice, he wouldn't even take his medication. He wouldn't take his epilim."

"Does he fit?"

"Has done, usually the epilim controls it."

"Oh sh....oot!"

"How are you today, you look tired but better."

"Yeah, I'll tell you about it one day. What're we going to do with him?"

" I don't know, I suspect he heard all or part of our conversation."

"Oh fuck! Shit I am sorry, I'm trying not to swear so much." I blushed like a belisha beacon.

The nurse chuckled, "Don't worry, you're not the only one who has felt like swearing at him today."

"So is he just being uncooperative, or is he on hunger strike?"

"We thought the former, nobody thought of the latter. Oh dear, would he?"

"I couldn't say for sure now, since he is so changed, but before all this happened, yes quite easily. He probably would starve you into submission rather than himself, now I don't know. There's barely enough to keep him going as he is. I think he's decided to kill himself."

"Gosh, I'll have to get the psychiatrist into assess him."

"That might be difficult if all he does is glower."

There was the sound of a crash and we both rushed out. The soup and the flask were lying on the floor together with bits of broken china. The nurse immediately went to get something to clear it up, I picked up the flask and shook it, the glass liner was broken.

"Thanks Dad, Mum gave me that when I was in school." I scowled at him, he didn't react at all.

"He done it on purposel," called a man from the other side of the ward, "He kicked it arff."

"Are you sure?"

"Ohyez, I seen him."

"Thanks." I began clearing up the bits of glass while trying to avoid getting my skirt in the mess.

The nurse came back with a cleaner and bin. I left them to sort it out standing with my arms folded scowling at him, the bastard!

As soon as they were gone I spoke very quietly to him, "You miserable old bugger, so you're going to die are you? Fine that suits me, I'll go and clear out your bank account now before the bloody church gets all your money, because I doubt you left it to me. But before you do, if you have plans of joining my mother, don't bother. Suicides go straight to hell, remember."

A look of alarm spread over his face and his dribbling increased, tears also began to fall slowly from his eyes.

I stood watching him, part of me wanted to slap him or abuse him part of me was crying inside. I had just cruelly taken away his only form of rebellion and I wasn't entirely sure of my motives. Was it to save him or punish him? I couldn't honestly tell. I thought I should feel angry but I didn't. Instead I felt a void, an emptiness that was even more worrying.

He looked up at me, "Sozzy Affy."

I looked at him and deciphered what he had said. "Okay, I accept your apology. You spoiled your own treat, all I have is some potato cakes, will you eat some of those with a bit of butter?"

" 'Ess."

I bent over and put my arms around his neck, there was a momentary expression of fear, then I moved my hands and hugged him. "You stupid old fool, you worry me to death, do you know that?"

"Ess," he said.

"Please don't test me again Daddy, I'm not strong enough to pass it again and you'll lose me forever. It isn't a threat it's a promise. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

"Ess," he began to weep more heavily.

"Sozzy Affy."

"Okay, I accept your apology, this time." I walked away to get some butter and a plate.

He ate both the potato cakes which I warmed in the microwave.

" Ov-ee."

"Lovely?" I asked and he nodded. "Good were they?"

" Ood," he said and I smiled.

"Okay you old buzzard, I'll drop some food in tomorrow. I can't stop I have to go to Portsmouth to look after Simon. He was hurt a week or so ago and has only just come home from hospital."

His face immediately fell, and tear dripped from his eyes.

"I'm sorry Daddy, but I have two of you to look after plus my course is getting more demanding. I'm only going to be able to get up here a couple of days a week at best. I am sorry but I can't do everything."

He looked so helpless. My heart nearly stopped with guilt, yet an hour before I'd have happily strangled him. He was still pulling my strings, even now.

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 130

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Fiction

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

A special extra episode 'cos it's my birthday and I can't go out on my bike and I don't feel like doing housework.

Easy As Falling Off A Bike.
by Birthday Girl & Bonzi.
part 130 ("Same as her age," Bonzi).Gonna kill that cat!

I found myself sitting in the car again, seemed to be becoming a habit, it used to be a bike. I had an idea and shot home.

Twenty minutes later I clipped my cleats in and was zipping through the side roads towards the downs. I went down through Avonmouth and back up the gorge with a nice hill climb to get into the city, then home. Altogether I was out about ninety minutes but felt so much better for it. They ought to prescribe cycling on the NHS - cures everything except saddle sores!

I checked the breadmaker, the kitchen almost sang with the aroma and my stomach rumbled. It wasn't quite done, so up to the shower. I dressed in something tidy, a black and gold top with the odd sequin and bead sewn on it, tiny capped sleeves and a deep vee neck. No one would be in any doubt about my sex! To go with this I wore a black velvet skirt, a relatively full skirt, with a gold beaded band of an inch about three inches from the hem. The skirt and top weren't matching but they were close enough.

Makeup sorted, a bit more than usual and a redder lipstick than I normally wore then a good squirt of Opium. To complete my ensemble, I wore my sapphire necklace and earrings, with a silver bracelet and Mum's engagement ring.

Down stairs the bread was ready and I unloaded the machine, washed it out and made up the next batch for tomorrow, then set it going again. Maybe I could get a tax break as a new bakery? I smirked at my own joke and then recalled the earlier experience. No I didn't need to go.

I made some ham and salad sandwiches, ate a couple of rounds and packed up the rest with a flask of what remained of the soup I'd made earlier. Finally, I pulled on my old red boots, they were comfortable and warm - goodness, a couple of months ago if someone had told me I'd be able to walk about in these all day, I wouldn't have believed them. I'd have rolled my eyes at the chance let alone the reality. So much had happened in such a short time, but the truth was, if Stella hadn't set the ball rolling, I'd still be a wannabe dreaming of what I'm doing now. I shook my head and pulled on yet another of her donations, a long thick velvet jacket with a hood and fur trim, all in black. Picking up my bag and the food bag, I set off for the car.

As I was driving back to the hospital I had a thought. My stalker seems to know my car, I had a plan to get around that. I bounced on to the ward.

"Hello Miss Watts, didn't expect to see you here again today."

"Yeah, well there's nothing on telly and I just love 'Casualty', so I thought I'd come and watch it live." Actually that was rubbish, I didn't watch the show at all, had enough of hospitals recently.

"Oh yes, now why did you come back."

"Well I found this unbreakable flask and thought I'd road test it."

The nurse laughed, "He's been good since you went, what did you say to him?"

"Family secret," I smirked back.

"Oh! Be like that then," she patted my arm. "You look and smell nice, going on somewhere after?"

"Sort of, do you think ...."

"Hi Daddy," I effused all over him, took him by surprise and his face lit up like a Christmas tree."

"Affy," he beamed back at me.

"I brought you in some more soup and a sandwich, which you are going to eat, every last crumb, godditt?"

He nodded, "Vues piddy," he managed to emit.

"I'm what?"

"Piddy, ike mmmmm uvver."

"Pretty like my mother?"

"Ess," he smiled and I could feel his genuineness.

"Why thank you Daddy," and gave him a smacker on his cheek, leaving a red lipstick mark. I decided I wouldn't wipe it off just yet.

He couldn't manage all of his soup or quite all of the sandwich, but I could tell he had tried. "Hmm, I suppose I'll let you off this bit, but you won't get curly hair if you don't eat your crusts."

This was a line my mother used to throw at me when I was a kid, in those days I didn't want curly hair and refused to eat them. Until, I met Jane Eastman, she had luscious locks of vibrant curls in a beautiful golden colour, I was so jealous I stared at her all morning. In nursery, they wondered if I was developing a form of autism. I ate my crusts after that, but still have straight as stair rods hair! My mother lied to me - no wonder I'm an emotional wreck!

As we were finishing up, the nurse arrived with a couple of blankets and proceeded to wrap my dad up like Tutankhamun's mummy. He looked uncertain about what was happening. "You ready then?"

He looked even more unsure, and his eyes pleaded with me, almost scared. "Don't worry, we're only going down the pub and I suppose it's my round, eh?"

He stared at me in disbelief and I moved to the back of the wheelchair and after pulling on my coat, pushed him out of the ward and along the corridors to freedom.

The walk to the pub was longer than I thought and he'd nodded off by the time we got there, my feet were pleased I could finally sit and give them a break although we had the reverse journey to do. I did wonder about a taxi, then thought it was nice for him to get some fresh air.

I pushed him right up to a table and with a couple of straws linked together, he could manage to suck up his half of 'Ruptured Ferret' or whatever the brew was called. I sipped a glass of Chardonnay for a price that would get a whole bottle in Tesco. C'est la vie.

He smiled at me, and savoured his beer. " 'Ang goo."

"S'okay," I smiled back, "I thought we could both do with a treat." He nodded in agreement.

"Voos ooti-cal," he said after staring at me for a minute.

"I'm what?" not quite catching what the second or subsequent words were.

"He said you're beautiful," said a voice to my right and I spun around to see who it was.

"Oh," I blushed, it was the archetypal tall dark stranger.

"And he's absolutely right, you are." The ultrabright smile was almost blinding from his perfect teeth, they were encased in the face of an adonis. Six feet tall, dark curly hair, neatly cut, no designer stubble, well fitting polo-necked sweater and cord jacket and trousers. Wow, I'll bet he wouldn't have talked to Charlie at the pub with his dad. Come to think of it, except for a few occasions in the summer, I didn't ever go to a pub with my parents. The last time must be when I was about twelve and we had lunch in the beer garden.

"Can I get you both a drink?"

My father's eyes sparkled, he'd finished his half. I was half way through my wine. "I don't usually let strange men buy me drinks," I said.

"I'm not strange and I don't like drinking alone." He thrust out his hand, "Ben Corton."

I reluctantly took his hand and shook it, "Cathy." I deliberately withheld my surname.

"Pleased to meet you," he shook my hand which was dwarfed in his, goodness his felt warm. "And you, Cathy's dad,"

"Derek," I offered, as he took my father's good hand and squeezed it.

"What're you having?" He said stepping towards the bar.

"I'll have a St Clements please and Daddy will have have a half of Inebriated Squirrel, or what ever they call it."

He laughed, "Nothing stronger for you?"

"No I'm driving."

"Oh okay." He went to the bar.

"So how come he can understand you and I can't?" I asked of my father.

He shrugged his shoulders as best he could, "Voo 'ike 'immm?"

"Dunno, remember I'm spoken for. One man on the go is enough, too much sometimes."

I switched the engagement ring onto my right hand. Well I wouldn't want to give him the wrong idea.

He passed me the drinks and I made sure the stones flashed in the light. "Pretty ring," he said, "You're engaged?"

"Yes," said and watched my father make a funny face.

"Lucky guy, still I hope he won't mind me sharing you for a half an hour or so."

"Should be okay, I've got my chaperone with me."

"But of course, anyway I have a wife and two kids."

"So why aren't you with them now?" I asked, ever the direct Sagittarian.

"I'm running a course at the hospital today and tomorrow."

"Oh, I see. What sort of course?"

"Would you believe, 'Speech and language therapy post hemiplegia'."

"That's why you can understand him and I can't?"

"Probably, it just takes a while to train the ear, I'm sure a bright girl like you would get it pretty quick."

"Me, I'm not very bright," I blushed, thinking, 'Or I wouldn't be blushing over a chat up line like that!'

"Ess seee iss, see at uvi-nersty."

"See I knew you were, thanks Derek, which one?"

"Not here." I blushed mouthing 'traitor' at my dad, who nearly choked himself laughing.

"Oh right, so where then?"

"Orrs-muff," betrayed my supposed protector.

"Portsmouth?" asked adonis, my treacherous dad nodded, pleased with himself.

"What are you doing at Portsmouth?"

"Orrr-mmmm-ice." Was mumbled from in front of me, and I gasped.

"Dormice?" queried my unwanted benefactor.

"If you give him my phone number I'm gonna strangle you, Daddy!" I hissed well aware that our 'guest could hear'. My father giggled again.

"So Miss Dormouse, pleased to meet you." He stood up and bowed.

I pretended to ignore him and he laughed so did my dad, I began to colour up again.

"Prettiest dormouse I ever seen," called some illiterate wag from the bar.

"Yeah, come an' 'ibernate wiv me luv," called another, showing more knowledge of my favourite rodent than I expected.

I sat blushing enough for them to be able to switch off the heating for at least an hour.

"Sorry, I erm seem to have attracted some unwanted attention."

"It's alright, just don't make it any worse," I said tersely.

"But of course."

"So you're actually studying dormice?"

"Yes have been for about three years."

"Are you actually able to find any? They're cute but elusive, I'd always thought."

"Affy's a exxx-putt, see cun fine um."

"I can well believe it, so you're an expert on finding dormice eh?"

"Sort of." I blushed again.

"So what level are you studying?"

Before my father could betray yet further, I answered quickly, "PhD."

"Oh, a real bright spark. Dr Dormouse, I wish you well in your studies," and he raised his glass to me. I nodded and blushed even more.

" Otter orr-muss," my father chanted all the way home, giggling when I threatened to push him under the next bus we saw.

I left him at the ward, still chanting.

"What's he saying?" asked the nurse putting the curtain around before they got him ready for bed.

"Doctor Dormouse," I said blushing.

"We don't have any doctor of that name around here." She shook her head. "He's tiddly, how much did he drink?"

"A couple or three glasses of beer, just halves."

"Who's this Doctor Dormouse, Mr Watts?"

"Affy isss," he chuckled and pointed at me, "seess Otter Orr-muss."

"You're Dr Dormouse?"

"Yes, I'm doing a PhD studying dormice."

"Oh, more brains than me," piped the nurse.

"Annn mmmeeeeee," roared my father, he was ever so slightly pissed.

"I think we'd better get the commode don't you?" she said to Dad and the curtains went right around. I waited for them to get him in bed and I would go. He'd had a bit of fun and I'd had some exercise plus some practice in repelling unwanted suitors, especially married ones. Although to be honest, he was okay. I mean he didn't push anything and he kept fingering his wedding ring. When I asked he showed us a photo of his wife and kids, two girls - Zoe and Beatrice.

He also took my dad to the toilet, all that laughing could have been tempting fate. That was something I couldn't do now without a designated 'disabled' loo. Oh well, that was a small sacrifice.

It had been a better evening than I'd expected, except when I went to the bar, several of the morons propping it up called out, "I'll 'ave a pint o darmouze," or, "Fiona, can yer geddus a darmouze curry?"

"I'll try and save you some fresh dormouse urine, next time I take samples," I smiled as I collected our drinks.

"That'll teach youze, Mick Bascombe, called another and there was general uproar for a moment. At least no one pinched my bum, of which I was glad, at nearly six quid for a round I didn't want to pour one over someone's head.

"Here he is, tucked in and waiting for his goodnight kiss," called the nurse breaking my train of thought.

"Wanna st-rry," he said at me.

"You want a story?"

"Ess," he giggled.

"Okay, just a quickie." I sat down and spoke quietly to him. "Once upon a time there were these two crabby old gits, whose lives were being blighted by a horrible priest..." He went to protest but I shushed him.

"...anyway, they fell out with their son because he disagreed with all sorts of things including their ideas of who he was. He went away to seek his fortune and one day while riding his bike the good fairy bumped into him, knocking him off his bike.

She saw him cry and asked why he was unhappy, and he told her it was because he should be a girl. She smiled and waved her wand and he turned into a reasonably pretty girl..."

"Oot-eeee-vull,"

"Shurrup, who's telling this story?" I insisted and he sniggered. "Anyway," I continued, "She was introduced to this very handsome man, who after apparently falling in love with her, ler drop he was a prince..."

"Ise-ount,"

"All bloody right, a viscount. Look do you want to tell the story?"

"Ohhhhh!" he said shaking his head.

"Anway, the girl went back to see her parents, only her mother was very ill unbeknownst to her, and she died as the girl arrived with the good fairy, thinking they were angels...." my mind took me back to that awful moment and I felt my eyes well up.

"Vey wosss ain-jools," he said, his own eyes wet but smiling.

"Yeah maybe, I think that's enough of a story for tonight. I have to go."

I kissed him goodnight, and saw his expression fall, then he smiled again, "I uvvv mmm-yyy orr-or."

"You loved the story?"

"Nnnnn-oooo," he shook his head, scattering tears everywhere.

"He said he loves his daughter," a quiet voice said from behind us, "and I think I can see why." The nurse bustled away, "Coming Mr Lewis...."

"Ess," smiled my father.

"I love you too Daddy," and hugged him and kissed him again.

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 131

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Fiction

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

Easy As Falling Off To Sleep.
by:West Dorset District Council
part:the bit that comes after the one before.

I was so tired when I got back to the car, I had to sit for a few minutes in order to get my head back to the task in hand. I drove home very carefully and parked up. I weed and went straight to bed, barely managing to get my clothes off first. I slept like a log not even going to the bathroom in the night.

I awoke with the alarm causing the radio to blare. It was 'Classic Fm'with Vivaldi and his 'Four Seasons'. Not one of my favourite groups. It eventually managed to drive the sleep out of me and I dozily made my way downstairs and made some tea. It refreshed me and once I'd breakfasted and showered, I felt pretty good. My acceptance by my father, had lifted a huge weight off me, just as I realised my acceptance of myself with the help of Marguerite, had done similarly, earlier. The sun was shining and the sky was blue, however, for me I felt like a blind woman who was only now able to see colours, cured by some miracle of science. How could she relate to them if she had never seen them before?

How would I relate to this climate of acceptance, of me just for being me. No more worries with the people who mattered to me, it's more than I could have hoped for so maybe my prayer had been answered by Marguerite's God, not the one I'd been brought up with - the jealous God of the Old Testament.

Maybe, the law of averages would and I have just equalled things out a bit. I must have been due some good luck by now. Though, I suppose that many would think I actually had had my share of it and just couldn't see it.

My body wasn't much masculinised if at all, and the hormones I took seemed to change things quickly and effectively. My hips are an inch or two bigger than they were and my waist is a similar amount smaller. My breast growth is good, with nice nipples and areolar formation.

I stood in front of the mirror applying some makeup.My face was heart shaped and there was no sign of facial hair except a peach fuzz, nor of a brow ridge. Puberty had passed me by and I was so lucky. I rubbed moisturiser on my neck, there was no thyroid cartilage or Adam's apple of any sort. Given my situation, I was very lucky, I really did look like a woman, but so I should, I was a woman. I winked at the face in the mirror and she winked back - she wasn't my type.

My GP, Dr Smith, had done some tests when I first confided in him. I was androgen insensitive to a large extent and once the hormones predominating in my body were changed to oestrogens, things changed rapidly. My oestrogen receptors worked even if the testosterone ones didn't. It also meant I didn't need an androgen blocker, so my liver might last a bit longer than otherwise.

Why couldn't I have accepted all this before others pointed it out to me? Probably because I could only see the fear that others would spot some aberration and see me for what I was, or thought I was. They saw me for what I really was, a woman.

I glanced at my watch, it was nine and I needed to sort something out.

A single phone call did it, and I started to pack up my stuff for the weekend. Finally, I made up sandwiches and soup for my dad. Then I moved my car and started up the Mondeo. It had been in the garage for a few weeks but it started first time. I pulled it out on to the drive and parked my own car in the garage. I also spotted the bike rack my dad had bought years ago. I might play with that another day, although I had my own anyway.

I dropped off the stuff at the hospital and leaving my father was a real trauma. Both of us were in tears, but I was able to give him a laugh before I went. The postman had brought my new driving licence, the ones with the holder's photo. I thought it was awful, he thought it was nice.

"I've got your car, and I think the run will do it good."

He nodded but looked a bit worried.

"It's okay, I'll drive carefully and it is all insured." He accepted what I had said more with resignation than enthusiasm. I wasn't that happy either, his car was too big. Or it was for me, I felt like I was driving a lorry.

As I drove back to Portsmouth, I was glad he'd gone along with my scheme, although he was innocent of it. I had a different car, I wondered who now would recognise me from it. Very few for some time. just that I could pass anonymously for a while made me feel safer. I wish I knew who these creeps were and I could tell the police.

On the motorway, the Mondeo was even quicker than my little Mercedes, it absolutely ate the miles and I had to be careful of my speed several times, which is more deceptive in a larger car. I was listening to Abba when some idiot in a Porsche went past at about a hundred and something miles an hour. My own speed had crept up to nearly ninety and I felt myself blush as I realised it. The Porsche however, seemed to have no such inhibitions, it was one of those with the aerofoil sticking out the back. He left me for dead, so trying to calculate how fast he was going was impossible.

Half an hour later, he was on the hard shoulder with a big police BMW, all lights flashing parked right behind him. I tried not to feel a sense of schadenfreude, which if my limited German remembered, was a feminine noun meaning a malicious delight. I wondered if German men didn't experience it? Was being catty a female thing? Not in my experience as some of its best exponents were men.

The traffic slowed and came to a standstill. I didn't have satnav in the Mondeo, so I couldn't do all sorts of detours to avoid it. I called Stella on my handsfree and told her I was stuck in traffic. She philosophised and told me not to forget she was going to do my hair. I had forgotten.

It was an hour and a half later that I got to the cottage. Stella came out to greet me and remarked," Gosh, your car has grown up. I'll have a go later, see how it compares to the Saab."

"Sorry Stella, it's my dad's car and he made me promise only I would drive it."

"Bah! He won't know."

"I will."

"Spoilsport! How is the old sourpuss anyway?"

"I took him down the pub last night, he got pissed on a pint and half of beer."

"Cheap date," she said laughing.

"Where's Simon?" I asked as we went into the house.

"Up in his bedroom refusing to get up until you gave him a blanket bath."

"What? I have no idea how to do that."

"Now is your chance to find out, Nurse Cathy, this is your life. Please follow me to a studio where all your friends have been excluded and only your enemies admitted. It makes for better television."

"Not in my case, I don't know enough people to have friends let alone enemies."

"What about the fan mail?"

"What? Oh, those yeah, well except those. Oh, I also found a priest who may marry me one day."

"Thass no good, I want you to marry Simon not some hard up cleric."

"To marry me to Simon or whoever takes my fancy then."

"What? called a male voice from the bedroom above, "I've got first refusal."

"Too late, she's wearing an engagement ring."

"What? She can't be. I shall just lie here and pine away."

"It's my mother's."

"I thought it was, I'm just trying to wind him up, lazy bugger!"

"Aw c'mon, Stella, he is in quite a lot of pain."

"So much that he managed to move the portable telly from my room to his. Unless he teleported it."

"Well he would wouldn't he, telly-port? Gedditt?" I laughed and so did she hitting me on the shoulder.

"You brute, that hurt." I complained.

"Not half a smuch as your pun."

"I'm not well," the groans were emanating from Simon's room.

"Don't worry, Nurse Cathy is about to do her first enema," said Stella sailing through the door.

"No she fucking isn't," was the reply.

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 132

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Fiction

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Other Keywords: 

  • Loadsa sex in other stories!

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

Like an old married couple, but exactly what is Cathy hiding from Simon?

Easy Peasy Lemon Squeezy.
by Bonzi & Angharad(technical advisor on the cycling bits)
purred: eleven dozen

I was so glad I got through the door in time to see Simon's face when Stella produced the enema bag. If he'd been in critical care, they'd have had to call the crash team by now. I giggled so much I had to run to the bathroom or risk wetting my jeans.

I was still laughing when I returned to the bedroom where Stella and Simon were lying exhausted from laughing. What had I got myself into, these two were completely and utterly barking mad! Part of me hoped it was contagious, because they had so much fun, something which had been missing from my life until recently.

Eventually Stella went off to make some tea and I was left alone with Simon. I jumped on him, which of course made him squeak loudly. "Ouch, that bloody hurts!"

I jumped upright again and blushing furiously, apologised. "I'm so sorry Simon, I didn't mean to hurt you."

"'S okay," he smiled and made kissing pouts with his lips. I moved very gently to share them.

We were so engrossed in our face sucking competition that we didn't hear Stella arrive with the mugs of tea. "Ugh, someone get a bucket of cold water, quick. Like two dogs in the street."

I don't know why I pulled away as if my father had caught me bonking behind the bike sheds, but I did. Once more I blushed profusely, it seemed the one thing I could really do well, apart from finding dormice.

"Stella," Simon asserted himself, "We are both over twenty one and consenting adults. What we do in the privacy of our own bedrooms is our business."

"What!" shrieked Stella, making me jump.

"Sorry," he whimpered, and then we all started laughing again. They really were crazy.

Simon could wash himself pretty well, except his hair which I did for him. He had lovely thick curly hair and I was getting quite excited just running my fingers through it. I think he was too, because he fell off the chair we had wedged against the bath. At this rate he was going to be back in hospital before the end of the weekend.

I insisted I helped to wash his body and he surrendered. I won't tell where I lingered with the flannel, but it wasn't his face, and then I had to wash it again. I was having fun.

I helped him to dress and come down stairs, that was quite scary, he's quite a bit bigger than me and if he'd fallen, we'd have both been in hospital. However, we got down safe and I made him comfortable in his favourite chair. Moments later, Stella grabbed me and whipped me up to the bathroom and began washing my hair.

I ended up with a trim and more highlights, some ash blonde, some strawberry and one or two actually light pink. She also gave me a demiwave to put some more body into it. When I looked in the mirror as she finished drying it, I had quite a shock.

"Wow!" I said otherwise speechless.

"So waddya think?"

"It's certainly different," I managed to exhale.

"You don't like it do you?"

"I didn't say that, it's just erm, different."

"Go and see what Lord Stanebury thinks."

"Yes mam," I curtseyed and giggling went off to my lord and master.

He was watching Top Gear or some other such inanity. "Out the way babes, you're blocking the telly." He gestured for me to move.

"Well what do you think?"

He glanced at me for about two nanoseconds and went back to Clarkson and his lunatic friends, "Yes it's lovely."

"But it's bright green," I wailed.

"Yes dear, it's lovel.... what?" he looked up at me.

"It looks very nice, you're even more beautiful if that's possible." Then his eye fell back on the telly. I was wasting my time.

"Wanna go shopping Stella," I called to the kitchen.

"We can't, someone has to stay with Si."

"It's okay Clarkson is babysitting."

"Who?" she asked walking into the room and saw me arms folded and foot tapping while Simon continued watching the telly oblivious to my presence.

She walked over to the set and turned it off, taking the remote with her. His mouth dropped open. "Hey, give that back," he called after her but she'd gone out through the kitchen and was out on the drive.

"You bring that back," he said as she returned breathing heavily after running through the house.

"What, we have a guest and all you can do is watch television? Simon Cameron, I am ashamed at you."

"But it's only...." he paused and registered the shock and hurt on my face. "Please babes, don't take it like that....aw shit!"

In tears I dashed past Stella and up to my room, slamming the door behind me.

"You dickhead! Everytime she comes here she spends half of it locked in her room because of your big gob! Grrrr!"

I was lying on the bed sobbing, how could I come second to Jeremy Clarkson? Stella knocked gently, and came in. She sat alongside me and gently rubbed my neck. "Hey come on, let's go shopping. He can wait for his lunch!"

It took me a few more minutes to agree and to wipe my face with cold water. I didn't bother replacing the small amount of makeup I'd worn, just some lippy and we went downstairs.

"We're going shopping. Your lunch is on the table," she announced to Simon. All I could see was a can of baked beans and a saucepan.

"Stella, he won't be able to open those," I remarked.

"Good!" she snapped and pulled out the door. I had to go back and get my jacket and bag.

We drove into Portsmouth and spent an hour food shopping, neither of us were in the mood for much else. Spotting some bread, I suddenly realised I hadn't brought the breadmaker.

Stella nodded and ten minutes later we were carrying a new one back to the car, plus a pile of flour and yeast and other ingredients. I sneaked a readymix pack of almond slice into my shopping and wondered if Simon would be able to tell the difference.

The rest of the afternoon, I spent making bread or cakes or sorting out the dinner. As the oven was already on for the cakes, I did a coq au vin and set it to cook.

Eventually, I crawled alongside Simon who was fast asleep on the sofa and snuggled up to him and fell asleep. The timer woke me up and I took the cakes out of the oven, the bread was going to be quite a bit longer.

"Cor, something smells good," remarked the waking Simon.

"Well you can thank Cathy, she's slaved all afternoon," snapped Stella looking for her keys.

"Yeah, thanks babe," he said looking at me.

I hoped that his incapacity was only due to his injuries and not habitual, if it was he had a shock coming.

"Aren't you staying to eat Stella??"

"Nah, John is coming by at quarter to, we're eating out."

"Okay, shall I freeze any leftovers?"

"Oh yeah, that'd be good. You sure you haven't been married before?"

"Before what?" I asked pretending to look goofy.

She laughed, "Well you're so damned efficient, no wonder your dad wants you to become his housekeeper and Professor wotsisname, wants to marry you or adopt you or whatever."

"I think the term is enslave," I offered.

"Whatever, look there's John gotta go, behave you two or I won't let you play again."

We hugged and airkissed, Simon waved and grunted and she ran off.

"What did she do with the remote?" asked Simon lumbering around the room.

"She took it outside," I said.

"Be a good girl an' go an' get it."

"I can't." I shrugged my shoulders.

"Why not?"

"I couldn't see where she threw it."

"What? That woman is off her bloody rocker."

There was another upstairs, but I wasn't going to suggest it unless I got bored, very bored. "Dinner will be ready soon, where would you like to eat?"

"I'll come into the dining room. I can't get over that bloody sister of mine, how could she throw the friggin' remote down the garden?"

"You'll have to ask her that," I said standing a carton of juice in front of the desired object, in the fridge.

"Bloody hell, Leicester and Wasps are playing tonight. Oh shit!"

"Well, in terms of playing, maybe you should just settle for a home match tonight," I purred.

"Why are Pompey* playing then?"

"Arrrrrgh!" I screamed before I ran out into the garden only to find it was raining. I stood in the back porch, sulking.

Pompey = A local slang name for Portsmouth City FC.

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 133

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Fiction

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

Easy As Falling Off A Horse.
by The Lone Ranger & Kimo-Bonzi
part: who cares?

I stayed out by the porch until Simon missed me, it took longer than I expected and it was only because he got himself tangled up with the flex of the portable television, that he called me then.

"Just what are you doing?" I asked seeing the cable wrapped around his legs.

"Just taking this downstairs to watch the rugby."

"As you needed help to get down them this morning, is this a good idea?"

"Of course, I want to see the rugger and this is the only way. Can you bring the remote?"

"Does this not work on the one downstairs?"

"Dunno."

"Shall we try it?"

"Hey that's good thinking Batman!"

I uncoiled the cable from around his legs and he thanked me. I took the TV off him and put it back on the table in his bedroom, he stood waiting for me to discover if it would work.

I dumped it down in the kitchen and got the other out of the fridge. I switched on the big television in the lounge, and clicked on to Sky. The rugby was just starting.

I helped him down to the sofa and poured him some Guinness. "Thanks love, that was a cracking meal. How much do you charge per hour?"

"You couldn't afford me," I winked back and went off to the kitchen to clear up.

I finished and felt knackered. I would have loved to have curled up with Simon, but not with the TV on. It did nothing for me at all.

I sat down with a book in the kitchen and fell asleep over it a little while later. I awoke with someone shouting.

"Cathy, C-A-T-H-Y." I ran into the lounge my head spinning from rising quickly. "Oh there you are, could you get me another Guinness?"

He was lucky I didn't pour it over his head, he may have difficulties pouring it, but he could at least have come out to ask me to get it for him. I suppressed my irritation and took him in another. He kissed me as a form of thanks. Today, that wasn't enough.

Is this how he normally was? Stella said, "it wasn't" and that he was normally helpful. I knew I'd never cope like this, I watched my mother spoil my father and swore I'd never do it to anyone I was in a relationship with, yet here I was, doing it. I appeared to be a walking gender stereotype and that really annoyed me.

I was turning the bread out when he called again. I ignored him, he rang a little decorative bell that was near his chair, and I wondered if I could claim provocation, if I shoved it up his backside. I certainly do not answer bells at all.

When I ignored his calling and ringing, and also his ringing my mobile, he gave up for a few minutes and he was knocking over ornaments and things. I nearly rushed in, but stayed where I was.

Eventually he came out to the kitchen. "Didn't you hear me calling?"

"Yes."

"Did you not consider I might be asking you to come in to me?"

"I knew you were."

"So why didn't you come?"

"Two reasons, I'm not the maid service and if it was important you'd come out to me."

"Gee thanks," he turned on his heel and limped back towards the lounge.

I wondered if this was the beginning of the end. Were it possible, I would marry him tomorrow, or shall I say, I would have done a few days ago. Today I'm not quite so sure. He can be a total dickhead.

I made a cuppa and took him a mug, he was watching some film or other. "Where did you find the remote?"

"By the back door, why?"

"I thought you were out there scouring the garden for it."

"No I found it quite quickly."

"Come and watch this film, it's good."

"Simon I am so tired, all I want is to drink this tea and go to my bed."

"You can't, you have to help me up the stairs."

"I know, or I'd have gone an hour ago."

"Oh, go on then, Stella can watch me up the stairs and help me undress."

"Why can't you watch the film upstairs?"

"It's not such a big picture," he moaned.

"I don't know, I think I get the bigger picture alright." I mused aloud, "You have difficulty with powerful women, or women in power, probably from your childhood. So you have to make a song and dance about it, except with Stella when you go through this elaborate ritual. How am I doing?"

"Not even warm," he smirked at me.

"I'm sorry but I can't cope any longer," I felt tears fill my eyes and I fled upstairs. Once on my bed and doing my world famous impression of a duck with toothache, I felt guilty about not getting him upstairs and undressed. Then realised he'd got up by himself when I caught him with the other television. So he could actually get up them by himself.

I woke up thinking I'd heard someone fall downstairs. I ran out of the room but there was nothing to be seen and Simon was watching the telly in his bedroom. I peeked between the door and the frame and he was in bed watching some programme which seemed inane to me.

I struggled back down the landing and crept back into my room. I fell asleep quite quickly. The next thing I knew Stella was back and washing him down. As a nurse, I was next to useless.

I fell asleep again and awoke the next morning, Stella brought me in mug of steaming tea- pure bliss. "Sorry I didn't get Baby bear to bed last night."

"He said you were tired, eating all those loaves and fishes."

"Yeah, something like that."

"I had a hunk and bit of cheese last night when I came in, kept me awake much of the time.

"Serves you right, you just ate your breakfast early. I baked that loaf for breakfast.

"Wasn't much left when I had the end crust.

"Goodness, who is stealing our bread?"

"It isn't me," resonded Stella.

"I wasn't accusing you, I told her.

"Glad to hear it," She went on to describe the meal she had last night. It was an arm and a leg job and it was crap! She was very disappointed as they spent quite some time choosing where they were going to sit. "They were supernervous about the inspection."

"What inspection?"

"We heard on the grapevine that one of Egon Ronay's scouts was about last night."

"Some secret!" I sighed.

"Yeah, well you know...."

"Yeah, so did the spy turn up?"

"Dunno, we didn't see him or her if they did."

"Conjecture I expect. How is loverboy this morning?"

"All right I think, he says he feels guilty for neglecting you."

"He has a last chance to impress or I'm off big time."

"Wow, have you told him yet?"

"Not yet, but I shall don't you worry."

"I can believe you." She smiled and went downstairs.

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 134

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Fiction

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

This is the second attempt today, I lost two thirds of part 134 when the link went down, it was turning out very well too. If it happens again I shall stop writing direct to website, which will mean a delay in posting, as I'm too stupid to post myself.

Easy As Falling Off A Bike
by Angharad the cyberphobe
part: whatever.

I finished my tea, felt more awake and got myself washed and dressed in jeans and long sleeved top. I tied my now brushed hair back into a scrunchie and popped in some small gold hoop earrings. I could smell the body spray I had used, I hoped it wasn't too overpowering.

"Morning," said Stella as I appeared in the kitchen. I placed my washed mug on the table. "Refill?"

"In a minute, I suppose one of us has to get grumpy up?"

"Yeah, wanna toss for it?"

I declined the offer. "I think I need to have a few words with your brother, about the hired help."

"What hired help?" she asked looking confused.

"Exactly, we do this for love, or from love."

"Good luck Sis," she smiled at me, then registered my amazed look. "Well, you're nearly my sister in law." I decided not to argue and shrugged my shoulders. I liked the epithet anyway.

"I am going to raise the dead," I said and rolling up my sleeves pretended to spit on my palms. She was still laughing as I went up the stairs.

"Right, let's get this show on the road," I said breezily as I went into Simon's room. He was laying in bed, watching some cartoons on the portable television. In two very quick movements, I switched off the idiot box and threw back his continental quilt. He was sporting a tent pole in his pyjama trousers and blushing like a tomato. "Well looks like someone is pleased to see me," I said loudly enjoying his squirming.

"I think I need to use the loo," he said in a little-boy voice.

I helped him off the bed and to the bathroom, "Could you pass the bottle, please?" he indicated the pee pot by the loo.

"I thought it was a funny shape for lager," I quipped handing it too him. "Can you manage?" He nodded and I left him a small amount of dignity, and went to make his bed. When I heard the flush go, I popped back to the bathroom.

I eased his jacket over the plaster on his arm. He had some of those water resistant dressings on the shot marks and as far as I could see they were healing fine.

"What do you want to do?" I asked with ideas of my own.

"What do I want, or what can we do?" he asked smiling.

"I meant in terms of washing you."

"Okay, I'd love a shower but...." he pointed to the plaster on his arm, "Cathy...."

I had an idea and raced down the stairs, good job I was in my flats or I'd have broken my neck. I dashed into the kitchen. "Where's Si...." said Stella to an empty space. I was half way back up the stairs.

"Hold out your arm," I said to Simon," and proceeded to wrap his hand from the wrist upwards with cling film, finishing up near his shoulder and beyond the plaster. "Okay, pop in the shower wet your hair and I'll shampoo it."

"Yes boss," he said, stepping into the shower cabinet.

"That's right and don't you forget it," I laughed smacking his bare behind as he went past.

He did as I asked and I soaped up a flannel for him and washed his back, handed him the flannel and waited. I was treated to a slightly off key rendering of a medley of Abba songs, which tested my ear drums and self control.

"Come on Pavarotti," I called thinking my hair would need cutting again if he took much longer.

The door of the cabinet opened and he stepped out into the towel I held up for him, expecting him to take at least one corner of it, I was caught unawares when he ignored it and instead grabbed me and hugged me to him kissing me.

"Ugh! You're all we.... Mmmm." I started to say before he engulfed me. I think I must have dropped the towel because I had my arms around him and was.... well you don't need to know the details.

As I was helping him to dry, Stella popped her head around the door and said, "Kettle's on, ooh, been in a wet tee shirt comp have we?" I suddenly found it very warm.

I did change my top before helping him downstairs, where Stella made tea and toast and I did some scrambled eggs and bacon. It went down well and she and I washed up together after.

Simon had grumbled because I made him wear jeans rather than his jogging bottoms, I also made him slip on a shirt and sleeveless pullover, and put shoes on his feet rather than slippers. The reason for this became clear when we'd cleared up.

"Okay, you and I are going shopping and grab some lunch. Stella can stay behind and have a soak in the tub or whatever else she wants. There's some leftovers in the fridge, which you can heat up in the microwave." Her eyes lit up and she nodded.

Simon grumbled, "But I can't, I'm injured."

"If you don't you'll be terminal." My smile was deliberately 'painted on.'

"You'll have to drive then," he said conceding defeat.

"Of course I will, you're not insured to drive my car."

"The Mercedes, I am."

"It's not my Merc."

"Oh," he said, "You're not driving the Saab, not after what you did to the Volvo."

"I did nothing to the other car, it was bad engineering, that's all."

"Bad engineering, it's Scandinavian, they are usually regarded as amongst the best."

"Rubbish. Anyway get your jacket on, I'll be back in a sec."

I shot up stairs threw on some make up and grabbed my bag and coat, then dashed back down again. He was standing by the door his arm in the sling visible from the gap in his fleece jacket.

"Let's go," I ushered him out down the drive to the Mondeo.

"Whose is this?" he asked, "Your dad's?"

"Yep, thought I'd give it a run."

"Diesel eh, nice?"

"It's okay and I thought would be easier for you to get in."

"Very considerate of you, seeing as you ignored me yesterday."

"Get in Simon before I start breaking your other arm," I snapped and slammed the driver's door harder than it needed.

"I am not your maid, I'm not even sure I'm your girlfriend at this minute, so don't come the old soldier with me."

I started the car and drove off down the lane faster than I would normally. There was an atmosphere you could cut with a knife in the car. Five minutes or so later he said, "Just take me back home."

"No," I said locking the doors.

"Please," he said.

"No, we are going to give Stella a rest for a few hours."

"Oh. What about how I feel?" he said looking out the side window.

"What about it?" I said dismissively.

"Oh okay, be like that." He then sulked until we got the shopping centre.

"Come on," I urged, standing by his open door.

"Nah, I'd rather go out with my girlfriend."

"You don't have one at the moment," I said back with a little spite in it.

"Yeah, that's what I thought."

"So you'll have to make do with me."

"Dunno, you seem a bit pissed about something."

"Only in being treated like a serving maid by some dumb aristocrat."

"Oh, anyone I know."

"Nah, I doubt it, you look like a nice guy, he was some stuck up twat I met yesterday. I made him a really good meal and all he wanted to do was watch the bloody telly."

"He did that to you?"

"Fraid so, all I wanted was a cuddle and a chance to snooze. I was so tired but he didn't notice, or didn't seem to."

"The cad," Simon blushed.

"So, I've dumped him and thought I'd give you a try."

"Sounds like a good idea, you might be better off without him anyway."

"Yeah, he was only after my money anyway." I said this as Simon was getting out of the car. It wasn't the best time to make him laugh because he lost concentration and banged his head on the top of the door frame and fell back into the car.

"Ohmigod!" I gasped, "Are you okay sweetheart?" I leant into the car and he pulled me on top of him and kissed me passionately.

"I think so," he said seconds later.

"Think what?" I said not being sure what planet I was on. However, there was this little jack underneath me, that seemed to be trying to help lift me out of the car. "Ooh I think someone is pleased to see me," I squealed.

"I am always pleased to see you, and if you think otherwise, tell me immediately, please. I will never take you for granted again, promise."

I snuggled on to his chest and sniffed.

We had to move eventually, someone wanted to park alongside us and the door and our feet and legs were in his way. He did however help me get Simon out of the car.

Once he was walking, he seemed to get stronger and admitted he was enjoying getting mobile again. I walked alongside him, his arm draped possessively around my shoulder, but I was happy with that."

We walked past a jewellers and looked at the shiny objects for sale. "Anything you fancy, in the window?" he asked.

I looked at the window and could see his reflection holding me, "Yeah," I said enthusiastically.

"What?"

"Well I can see this big hunk," I almost laughed as I said it.

"Hunk of what? I can't see anything except watches and rings."

"He's in the window not on a shelf, although he thought he'd been left on one."

He looked at me curiously, "Why do women always talk in riddles?" Then in looking at me he must have caught sight of his reflection. "You mean the reflections?"

"Yeah, I can see this sexy looking guy with his girl and he must like her because he's got his arm around her, and she looks quite contented with it."

"Is he good looking then?"

"Oh an absolute adonis, except his arm's in a sling."

"Is she pretty?"

"Dunno, depends upon taste I suppose, in the eye of the beholder an' all that."

"I suspect she's a beautiful serving maid and he's a demanding aristocrat."

"I dunno," I said, "he looks more like a god and she's nothing special."

He pulled me to him and in front of dozens of passers by, kissed me for several seconds almost sucking out my tonsils, "Marry me," he said, loud enough for a small group of people to clap and cheer. I blushed and nearly collapsed with embarrassment.

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 135

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Fiction

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

Easy As Falling Off a Bike.
by Angharad
part: 135

Eventually I recovered my senses from the embarrassment. It had to be one of his jokes, but he continued staring in the jeweller's window. "Do you fancy any of them?" he pointed at several trays of rings.

"I think we need to talk," I said feeling my colour rising again.

"What about?" he looked puzzled. "I thought you said, you loved me?"

"I do."

"So what is there to talk about?"

"Lots. If you were serious, and I am not convinced you were, there are all sorts of complications involved."

"I am not that stupid even though I do work in a bank."

"Can we go and find somewhere more private and warmer, where we may be able to talk this over a bit more fully?" I asked feeling very uncomfortable talking in a public throroughfare.

"Okay," he threw his good arm in the air in a mild protest, but walked on with me, his arm around me again.

We strolled for maybe a couple of hundred yards when we discovered a small Italian coffee shop. "This do?"

I peered through the tinted windows and net curtains, it was busy but there were spaces. I nodded and we went in. We found a relatively private table and ordered two latte coffees and a cake each.

"You didn't answer my original question." Simon looked accusingly at me.

"Which one was that?" I was playing for time.

"My proposition to change your surname."

"Ah! Erm, well that is easy enough, it's the method which is the problem."

"I'd have thought it was the easiest," he said accepting his coffee from the pretty, dark haired waitress.

"If things were ordinary, that might be the case, although with your background it might not be."

"What's my background got to do with it, I thought it was yours that was the trouble?" He said almost angrily.

"Don't go all huffy on me, I'm doing my best here," I said feeling that wet sensation in my eyes again. "Your family, because of the publicity it's bound to receive upon your engagement or wedding, will be anxious to make sure it's all positive stuff."

"Dunno, there have black sheep in the past, my great uncle Marcus...."

"I'm sure that's a fascinating tale Si, but can we keep to the present issue? So you could imagine what they would feel if my history came out?"

"Not if we tell them first."

"If only it were that simple."

"Of course it is. I'll give Dad a ring," he pulled out his mobile.

"Simon, please wait until we've finished discussing this before bringing in other parties."

"He is family." His expression drooped.

"I know and I liked him very much," I lied but well! "I'm not so sure about your step mum."

"She's okay once you get to know her. Once she knows, she might leave you alone." He looked up at my stony glare, "Maybe not."

"Also look at how much publicity I'll receive, which I don't need right now. Besides I don't know what my dad would think."

"Of what, the publicity or getting married?"

"Either or both. Besides we can't, legally anyway."

"Why not?"

I rolled my eyes, thinking, Simon some days you are so thick it is untrue. "I am still legally male," I said very quietly.

"Oh, until you have your op, you mean?"

"No, even after that, until I go through the process to get things changed, and that takes time. Plus, I have to do the life test which means a year before referral to surgery."

"I think Stella can help there," he smirked.

"You've been talking to Stella, about me?" I felt betrayed, although given the circumstances, it was more inevitable than anything.

"Yeah, don't worry, she knows this surgeon and if I slip him some...."

"Simon, it doesn't work like that, they have protocols to follow."

"I'm sure we can get round that," he smiled.

"I don't know if I want to." I shook my head in disbelief.

"What? You don't want this sorted?" He indicated his groin, "Or you don't want to marry me?"

"Why do we have to decide that now, we hardly know each other?" I pleaded with him.

"I know you're the woman for me, or will be."

"That's very flattering Simon, and I love you for saying it, but I need more time."

"Well at least have your op, and then we could you know," he raised his eyebrow a couple of times.

"Have sex," I said bluntly.

He blushed and nodded.

I blushed too, because while at times it felt like the most important thing on the earth for me to feel my body wrapped around this man, it wasn't an absolute priority, earning a living came before that. There was no way I was going to parasitise anyone, however much they wanted me to. There were also the opinions of Dr Thomas to be considered, she could be at risk if she referred me too early and things went wrong. A psychiatrist in London had been suspended because of exactly that. I respected her too much to put her at risk, even though I felt impatient at having to wait for a year.

"I need more time Simon and please don't take that as a reflection upon you. You are a sweet man, most of the time," he opened his mouth to protest but changed his mind, "And I love you dearly. Were things normal, I'd have made passionate love with you, but they aren't, so I can't."

"I'm sure we could improvise," he said hopefully.

"I'm sure we could, but I don't want to. I want to right, to feel right about myself before I offer myself to anyone, and you in particular."

"Oh," he said, and his face fell again.

"I'm still new to all this Simon, I have much to learn about myself and just being a woman."

He nodded, looking rather downcast. "Does that mean you want to play the field a bit?"

"I hadn't even thought of that," I confessed.

"I said I was happy to wait, and I am, you know."

"Yes I know you did and I respect you for that, probably more than you realise." I felt my eyes well up again. His hand found mine and squeezed it.

"Can we still remain friends, or have I blown it?" he said his eyes looking very worried.

"Of course we can. I know, we can buy each other rings, friendship rings."

"I want you to wear my wedding ring, or engagement ring, not a friendship ring. That's something teenagers do."

"I was going to say, which would be a symbol of our pledge to sort this out when I had overcome the existing obstacles."

" I don't know." With that he stood up and went to pay the bill, I got up and followed, neither of us had eaten our cakes and I hadn't drunk my coffee either.

As I threaded my way between the tables I felt ill prepared for all this. I wondered if things would have been better if I hadn't met Simon or Stella and was still chasing my degrees as Charlie. Then I knew that wasn't true, I was just hadn't got time to worry about relationships when I had so much to do with work and just learning to live as a woman.

There were many people at the university who I hadn't dealt with yet, who would need to be brought on board, and although the rumours were whizzing around the grapevine faster than broadband, I needed to make sure they got the picture from the horse's mouth. I needed to sort out so many things, including having some time for me, but with Dad and Simon, that was impossible.

Some days I wondered just what I had got myself into. I was living the dream, but felt somewhere in the shadows there was this thing lurking which could so easily flip it into a nightmare. The pressure seemed all around me, and then there was the malefactor who was sending me the poison mail. I felt like running away, or better still, cycling off into the sunset.

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 136

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Fiction

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Other Keywords: 

  • The Operation
  • Lotsa crying
  • riding a bike

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

It happened again, I've disabled the touch pad in the hope that that was the problem.

Hard As Posting These Bloody Things!
by Angharad.
part 100 and three dozen.

The sun was shining and although cool, it was nice autumn afternoon, or it would have been had I been able to enjoy it. I felt like a wet blanket spoiling Simon's fun, but I really wasn't up to being the smiling fiancee. I wasn't even sure I was marriage material. In fact there was an awful lot I didn't seem to know about myself.

Just when I seem to be getting a handle on everything, something else happens and I'm completely flummoxed. I felt like the whole world was pressuring me to do it's bidding but no one was asking me what I wanted, which might have been just as well because I didn't know. Right now, I'd settle for just walking around a nature reserve birdwatching or sitting on a beach watching the waves break, but on my own. I was stuck with Simon for the afternoon because I chose to be, it was my own making. I had to cope with it and try and do so cheerfully.

"How ya doing?" I said to him noticing his walking was getting worse.

"A bit tired, is there anywhere to sit?" he asked and I led him over to a bench.

"Do you want me to go and get the car?"

"You haven't been in many shops," he said but tiredness was spreading across his face.

"It doesn't matter, we should have gone somewhere else, I'll go and get the car." I pointed to a road junction about a hundred yards away. "If you make your way there in about ten minutes, I'll pick you up, okay?"

He nodded looking exhausted. I kissed him and he smiled, then closed his eyes.

"Don't fall asleep Simon," I said to myself as I scampered back to the car park. It took me about seven minutes and I knew that it would take me as long to get back through the traffic to the junction I'd asked him to walk towards.

It took another ten minutes and I pulled up on the junction with the hazard lights flashing. He wasn't there. I locked the car and started running back to the bench, he was fast asleep!

I roused him and finally got him to stand, then led him towards the car, half way there, I spotted a traffic warden booking me for parking. I was so angry I felt like running after her and beating her to death. Instead I stayed with my charge and got him back to the car, snatching off the ticket before he spotted it.

I got him in the car and belted him in, then took him home, looking for traffic wardens to run down en route. I didn't see any.

I was so cross, I suppose with myself. If I hadn't made him walk so far he wouldn't have fallen asleep and I wouldn't have got booked. I had no one else to blame, except that bitch and her sticky bloody wrappers. Grrr!

He nodded off in the car and I became a little worried until I got home and Stella enlightened me. "Did he have anything to drink?"

"Yes but only a pint of Guinness."

"That and his medication, off he goes."

"Oh shit, I didn't realise. I'm a lousy nurse, sorry Stella, I wanted to give you some time to yourself."

"I had a couple of hours, and some nice lunch, that coq au vin was delicious, you must show me your recipe sometime Sis."

I enjoyed the epithet even though I didn't deserve it. "They thought he was a war hero in the pub."

"What? Do tell."

Simon was fast asleep in the other room while the conspirators were busy drinking cups of tea in the kitchen. "We wentinto this pub near the shopping centre, you know all plastic panelling and fake beams. Anyway, they saw me struggling with Simon and asked me what his problem was. Without thinking I told them he'd been shot and they assumed it was in Iraq. I tried to stop the barman from taking that idea, but each time he misunderstood me and decided that Simon was SAS and hit while on a covert operation. He wouldn't let me pay for the drinks. We were going to eat there but I couldn't stand the mistake any longer. We left as soon as Simon had supped his pint, the barman saluting him as we left. The look on Simon's face was priceless."

Stella put her hand over her mouth to stifle the laugh. She shook with laughter and tears ran down her face, "How do you manage it?"

I shook my head and laughed too, I was obviously one of those catalysts around which chaos happens. "I dunno," I shrugged and she laughed some more.

"He asked me to marry him," I said blushing.

"Oh how romantic, congratulations." Stella was jumping up and down.

"I said, No." I felt the temperature fall markedly.

"You said what?" her face bore an expression of total confusion.

"I said no." I shrugged again and we both sat down.

"Why?"

"For loads of reasons."

"Well come on girl, it's not everyday someone turns down a Cameron."

"I can't marry him until I've had surgery and got legal recognition as a female."

"Well I told you, we can sort out one of those quite quickly."

"Even if my shrink agreed to it, I would still have to go through the legal process. That could take some time."

"So why not a long engagement?"

"What happens if we break up before then?"

"You get to keep the ring, you can always pawn it."

"Stella, I'm trying to be sensible here."

"So am I girl, so am I."

"What are your parent's going to say?"

"What about?"

"My interim status?"

"What your transitional state?"

"Yes okay, my transistional state."

"They know."

"What?"

"They know, they knew before they met you."

"You told them?" I accused Stella and felt totally betrayed.

"No I didn't, nor did Simon. I only found out the other day when I called Daddy about something. He'd done a credit check and it showed up your previous name. It explains why Monica was trying to bed you."

"He knew, I don't believe it." I felt tears running down my face. "Why didn't he say something?"

"Like what?"

"How the fuck would I know?"

"Catherine, please don't swear it is very unbecoming in a pretty girl."

"You sounded like my mother then," I said and the tears really started to flow. Stella hugged me and held me and I cried away some of my grief.

"So much in such a short time, little girl," she cooed as she held me, "No wonder you saw Simon's proposal as such a huge threat."

"I feel so pressured, everybody wants me to do things for them, but no one asks me what I want." I sobbed again onto Stella's shoulder.

"Okay Sis, what do you want?"

"I don't know Stella, sometimes I just want to run away and hide."

"Is that part of the problem, not setting goals? If you don't you can't reach any of them."

"I suppose getting my degree and being included in the survey project, is one. Looking after Daddy is another, being with Simon is a third and doing some bike riding."

"Where does surgery feature in there?"

"Yeah, that as well."

"And the legal thing?"

"I suppose so," I sighed.

"Is this boring you?" she asked brusquely.

"No, I'm just exhausted."

"We'll be finished soon. What's the priority here?" She scribbled just one or two words for each. "Where does Simon and your dad come, before or after surgery?"

"I don't know, why can't they all be equal?"

"Because they aren't. Here's how I see it. The degree is a long term one and will take three or more years, yes?" I nodded. "Okay, so that's a big one but it doesn't necessarily stop any of the others?" Once more I nodded. "The surgery, where does that come?"

I went blank, "I don't know because it isn't in my hands, it involves others." I felt powerless.

"Right, no wonder you go round in circles. It is your decision and we can organise that in the next few months say."

"But I can't without the referrals."

"We'll get those, so just assume we get them, where does that put it in terms of priority?"

I shook my head unable to see how it could happen, I couldn't answer.

"Okay, we make that number one on the short term list." Stella looked me in the eye as she said it and I just gasped.

"Right Dad and Simon, who comes first?" She stared me down and I dissolved into tears.

"I know who I'd pick, but it's your choice we're dealing with."

I cried again and whimpered, "Simon."

"I'd have put my dad first but there ya go. Okay so Daddy comes last?"

I cried in shame and nodded.

"What about the bike rides?"

"I dunno?"

"Well unless you plan doing the Tour de France or something outlandish like that, let me know I'll get you some EPO." She winked at me.

"I hate you Stella Cameron." I said and poked out my tongue at her.

"So does most of the planet, but I get things done Little Sis, I get things done. Anyway back to the bike, you can ride that any time in between the others if you have time, might actually be good for you. Mind you I suspect surgery may prove to be the exception, I don't think you'll be on it for a week or two after surgery."

I laughed at her matter of fact manner and threw my arms around her, "I love you Stella, I hope we can be sisters in law." I kissed her on the cheek.

"Yeah so do I, just marry the old fart, it's easy enough."

"I'll make an appointment to see Dr Thomas as soon as I can."

"Now you're talking positive. Let's go see if laughing boy is awake."

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 137

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Fiction

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

Simon calls for a celebration, see why....

Easy As Falling Down A Well.
by wassername & cat.
part: yes.

Simon was awake and we had a fresh cuppa and some toast. It was only five, so it was too early to make dinner, not that I was sure who was going to cook what. Tea over, I did up the mixings for the breadmaker Stella had bought and set it in motion.

"Are you making us another delicious dinner?" asked Simon limping out to the kitchen.

"Do you want me to?" I asked, he pulled me to him and kissed me as his answer. "Is that a yes or a no?" I chuckled at him.

"Yes, I want you to make my dinner for the rest of our lives, except you turned me down. I was supposed to get fat and irascible as I got older, now it's just gonna be irascible."

"Glad you warned me, I was going to say yes, maybe I won't now."

"You were going to say yes to what?"

"Oh, I've forgotten the question now, ever since I got blonder, it's affected my brains. I think Stella must have used too much peroxide or something." I feigned an affected manner, brushing at my forehead with my wrist.

Simon grabbed me and pulling me closely to him again, said," I'd go down on one knee if I could but you'd need the fire brigade to get me up again."

I giggled partly at his joke and partly in embarrassment. I felt my colour rising.

"Cathy Watts, I love you. Will you marry me?" He looked me in the eye and I felt he was trying to hypnotise me into agreeing.

I looked back into his eyes, "Yes, but with conditions."

He eyes lit up then extinguished themselves, "What?"

"I obviously have to be eligible for marriage, which means surgery and legal reassignment."

"Of course, anything else."

"I somehow have to incorporate my father into a married life. Quite how, I'm not sure."

"Okay, that's something we obviously need to think about."

"I also want to complete my degree and have some sort of career. I don't want to be some stuffed bodice, having the WI around for drinky-poos."

Simon laughed, "Stuffed bodice, I like that."

"Well the female equivalent of a stuffed shirt, you know what I mean."

"I hope you don't think me a stuffed shirt, do you?" he looked quite hurt.

"No, course not, but I don't want any misunderstandings. If you're not happy for me to finish my degree and this project, then I can't marry you."

"Can't or won't?"

"Okay, won't."

"Okay, I accept your conditions and surrender immediately."

"What are you on about?"

"Conditional surrender. I'd put both arms up if I could," he said raising the good one up.

"You are silly," I said my lips brushing his for a moment. He kissed me lightly back, then I threw my arms around his neck and kissed him as passionately as I could, forcing my tongue in to his mouth and then nibling on his as he followed mine back.

"I thought it went very quiet in here," said Stella's voice from somewhere near the doorway.

"Get your best frocks on girls, we're going out to celebrate," said Simon triumphantly.

"Celebrate what?" asked Stella suspiciously.

"It's november," beamed Simon.

"Yeah, so?" retorted Stella.

"And this little minx has agreed to marry me." Simon had his arm around my waist and squeezed me. "We're engaged."

"Oh wow!" Shrieked Stella, she bent at the knees and jumped up in the air, "Oh wow bloody wow! She screeched, then threw herself at both of us and nearly crushed us with her hug. She kissed me on the cheek and then Simon. "I am really happy for you both, I really am."

Both she and I had tears running down our faces and Simon was grinning like a Cheshire cat. Inside my head was spinning, what had I just done, agreed to marry another man? Jesus, what was I doing? I had just become engaged to another man - I had to stop this now, before it got too complicated.

My stomach was spinning nearly as much as my head, I needed a loo. I managed to detach myself with some difficulty, then headed to the cloakroom. Shutting the door I knelt in front of the toilet and vomitted.

I tried to rationalise my situation: I was high after Stella's pep talk and look what happened. Okay, so I'm living as a female and believe myself to be one, but do I? If I did would I be so worried about accepting a proposal of marriage. Especially from an aristocrat. I stood up and then sat on the toilet, as I peed, I tried to accept what I had done.

That priest woman had hit the nail on the head, I'd accept an awful lot more if I accepted myself first. Well, that was absolutely true in this case, and probably many others, I was in fact a serial doubter. So what do I do now? What is Dad going to say, Christmas, he'll have another stroke!

Can I get out of it? I could but not without breaking Simon's heart, and I couldn't do that to him. I did love him so much. What about becoming Lady Catherine? I nearly laughed again. It was absurd, yet there was part of me which felt it could be used as a very big stick to hit back at those who sneered at me. Lady Catherine Cameron, the Lady Stanebury. It was an anachronism and well past its sell by date, but I had plenty of time to deal with that, if we got married. There was a lot of water to pass under the bridge yet.

I washed my hands, and went back to the kitchen. "I've booked us a table," beamed Simon.

"I hope it's not too posh, I don't have anything that smart with me."

"Stella said to go on up, she'll find you something."

I nodded and went upstairs, pausing to brush my teeth and remove some of the taste of sick. Stella came in to the room. "You are okay with this, aren't you?"

"Why shouldn't I be?" I bluffed.

"Happy fiancees, aren't usually throwing up after being proposed to."

"I just like to be different, that's all."

She walked up to me and put her arms on my shoulders, "Look Sis, I want you to be happy. If that includes marrying the little boy downstairs, fine. If it doesn't, don't let him railroad you into it, nor me. I love you too much for that."

"I know and thank you, sister," I mumbled back and her eyes sparkled.

"I've waited all my life for another girl to say that to me," she hugged me. "Even if you don't marry him, you'll always be my little sister, okay?"

"Okay, even if I am a man."

"Cathy, you never were a man, you simply didn't know you were a woman, or shall we say, didn't know how to let the world know you were a woman. Don't get all screwed up about marrying another man, or being engaged to one, because you aren't one, you're a woman and a very beautiful one."

She hugged me tightly and I wept for sadness and for joy. I was going to get married and my mother wasn't going to be there to see it. The hole, the void got bigger.

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 138

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Fiction

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Other Keywords: 

  • designer dresses
  • claret
  • lemon sole.

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

Cathy has Stella in stitches and also manages to soothe some ruffled feathers when Stella drops them in it!

Easy As Falling Off A Dyke.
by Ang-thingamy & vicious mog.
part 100+2+3dozen = lots.

When we had both calmed down and wiped our eyes with cold water, I followed Stella in to her room. She began sorting through a capacious wardrobe, she pulled out several dresses held them up against me and shook her head, they went back in the closet.

"Ah, this should do," she said handing me a green dress with a tiny floral pattern and beading here and there."

"That is beautiful," I said holding it up to look at it properly.

"Well get 'em off then, and try it on."

Giggling, I stripped down to my bra and pants, I was unzipping the dress when she stopped me. She bent down and looked at my crotch. "What have you done here?" she said pointing at my apparent cleft.

"Um, erm, nothing why?" I blushed like a lightbulb.

"Can I see?" she gave me loads of eye contact, "Purely professional, of course." She looked again and I nodded, then putting down the dress pulled down my knickers.

"That is amazing, how have you kept it up there, some sort of glue?"

"Superglue," I said.

She made a funny face and shook her head, "Doesn't it hurt?"

"Only when I do it at first."

"Goodness, so you've pushed it all up inside you?"

"Sort of then wrap the skin around the erm, and it looks like that."

"Round your clitoris."

I blushed even deeper, and nodded.

"Thanks for letting me see, it is astonishingly real cosmetically. I'm not sure how good it is from the point of view of surgery, because the skin could all shrink, and when you get your referral, make sure it's been down for a few days for the surgeon to see. Can I take a photo for him to see?"

I felt quite nauseous but nodded.

"It really is only for the surgeon to see, when you go for the exam, okay?"

I nodded again, wishing I was somewhere else.

She popped back took a couple of pictures, checked her camera, they had come out, and I pulled up my knickers. Still feeling hot and bothered, I pulled on the dress while Stella looked for something for herself. She zipped me up and stripped down to her own underwear, "That's what a real one looks like," she flashed her fanny at me. I gasped. "See now we're quits." She laughed and I blushed again.

She pulled on a blue dress and I zipped it for her, then as she looked at herself in the mirror, she swore. "Bugger, the bloody hem is coming down and I've only worn it once."

"Let me see," I picked up the end of the dress and examined the hem. "It's only in a couple of places, you could sort that in half an hour max."

"Not me sweetie, can't thread a needle, that's what nannies were for."

"You do have a needle and thread?"

"Probably."

"I've got my 'housewife' in my case. Take it off I'll do it for you."

"Housewife?"

"Yeah, in the services they used to call a sewing kit that, they used them for running repairs. Mine is probably a bit better and does have a few different coloured cottons."

"You can sew?"

"I can do the basics, like repair a hem or take up trousers, darn socks, sew on a button, why?"

"Who taught you?"

"Did a couple of lessons in school, all the boys had to and the girls did changing a plug and stuff. Then before I went away to uni, my mum insisted I learn enough to be self sufficient in cooking cleaning and clothing repairs."

"Wow, I'm impressed," Stella took off the dress and handed it to me. I went and got my 'housewife'. Actually it was a bit more than that, it was a small workbox, a Tupperware sort, with needles, pins, a dozen different cottons and silks, spare buttons, some velcro and a tape measure.

"I'll go and shower then," said Stella as she went off to the bathroom.

I took off the posh dress I had on, and sat in my undies as I measured and pinned the damaged hem, then threaded my needle and got sewing. I actually enjoyed it, although the light wasn't brilliant, but there wouldn't be too many stitchmarks.

I was still engrossed when she came back wrapped in a couple of towels. "How goes it?"

"Nearly finished." I snipped off the cotton and handed her the dress. "You are so clever, no wonder Simon wants to keep you for himself."

"It's not clever, Stella, it's basic housekeeping."

"Not these days, I have colleagues who stick the hems of their jeans up with bandaids, one girl did her's with a stapler."

"It's not rocket science."

"Can you knit and crochet too?"

"Yeah, a bit but I prefer embroidery, or did. That was what provoked my father to beat me."

"What embroidery?"

"Yes, my mother caught me at it and I was cheeky to her. She told my dad and he beat me."

"Yet she taught you to sew."

"Emergency repairs, not for pleasure."

"Oh, there's a difference?"

"It would seem she thought so. I still miss her though."

"I'm sure you do Sis." She hugged me, "And thanks for doing my dress."

"It's what sisters are for isn't it?" I offered quietly.

Her eyes misted, and she nodded,"Yeah," and she sniffed, "absolutely."
She hugged me again, "I'm so glad we're sisters."

"So am I Stella," and I hugged her back.

"Come on, go shower or we're going to be late."

"Yes boss," I said and grabbing my towels scampered to the bathroom.

She did my hair for me, and I quickly threw on some makeup. I'm tempted to say slap, but I didn't use any skin makeup, just eyes and lips and a tiny bit of blusher. Then into the green dress and, thankfully, I had a pair of courts with me. I don't know why, probably left from the last time I used the case, and the matching small handbag.

"Hey you look great," said Stella watching me dress.

"You look pretty cool yourself."

"Do I? Thanks." She primped in front of my mirror again. I squirted some Opium in various nooks and crannies and misted some and walked into it. "Hey girl, it's like a chemical alert!" she coughed and waved her hand in front of her face.

"Keeps vampires and aristocrats away." I joked.

"It's certainly working with me," she said running away squealing.

The meal was delicious and I ate too much. I had melon, lemon sole and roulade. Stella had scallops instead of sole and Simon had steak tartare. He also ordered two bottles of claret, which I discovered were a hundred quid each.

The wine was delicious too, but I can get a quite nice burgundy in Morrison's or Tesco for a fiver when they're on offer. I had one glass, drinking water the rest of the evening.

Stella and Simon finished the bottles and ordered brandies, I asked for tea instead. Simon was horrified but I insisted. They were both getting very tipsy and Stella had driven us in the Saab.

"Whoosh gonna drive?" asked Simon, because he couldn't anyway.

"Me, I sh'poshe," giggled Stella.

"Why don't we get a taxi?" I suggested.

"Why?" asked Stella.

"Because you're just the teeniest bit pissed Sis."

"How, d'you know mish shmarty pantsh?"

"As you have both had the best part of a bottle of wine and a brandy each, I think it's a reasonable surmise, don't you?"

"Here you drive," she threw the keys towards me, except they went over my head onto the next table, landing in someone's meal. She nearly became hysterical, giggling. The person on the next table didn't think it was so funny.

"Just what do you think you are doing?" Said a large man who glowered at us, he held up the keys and they were dripping with gravy.

Stella nearly fell off her chair, she was laughing so much. Simon was trying not to look, feigning some sort of headache. So things seemed to fall to me to sort it out.

"I am so sorry, I missed it when she threw it to me. Can I get you a drink and your wife, of course."

He glared at me and then back at the drunken siblings, "You're not planning on driving after drinking are you?"

"I'm driving, and I haven't been drinking. Now can I get you and your wife a drink and convey my sincere apologies. Okay then, how about a bottle of house red?" I took the dripping keys and wiped them in my napkin.

I summoned a waiter and ordered a bottle of wine and asked to put it on our bill. He dashed off and I apologised once more to our neighbours. Simon had managed to stop Stella convulsing by now, although he was more than three sheets to the wind, himself. He did manage to find his credit card and pay the bill. I didn't like to look, I could have lived on that for a month, foodwise anyway.

Then I walked them one at a time out to the car, sitting Simon in the front and Stella behind him. I got in the driver's side and saw it was another automatic. Oh shit! Why can't Simon get proper cars?

I started it, put it in drive and released the handbrake after turning on the lights. They were both nodding off to sleep as I managed to drive out of the carpark and towards the city centre.

I drove more slowly than I would have done in my little Mercedes or even Dad's Mondeo, but somehow I got us home and in one piece. I was bathed in sweat, and it reminded me of the times I used to go out with my driving instructor. He was a nightmare anyway! 'When I squeeze your leg, do an emergency stop,' he used to say, and when I challenged him, he said all driving instructors did it. I found out later, they didn't, and I was learning as Charlie!

Somehow, I got them both into the house and locked the door, Stella I manhandled up the stairs, took off her dress and laid her in her undies in the bed. Simon, was a different challenge. He was totally zonked on the sofa, so I lifted up his legs and covered him with a blanket. He was snoring 'Rule Britannia' or something similar when I went out to the kitchen and made myself a cuppa and took it to bed with me.

Until they had got bladdered, it had been a nice evening. Stella had proposed a toast to Simon and me, when the wine arrived. I did one to 'sisters' and Simon did one to his 'angels'. We ate a fabulous meal and they just over imbibed. I suspected Stella would be over the limit tomorrow, thank goodness she wasn't working.

I drank my tea as I undressed, the green confection was another designer label. I felt like a model, getting to wear other people's clothes. I hung the dress up and changed into my nightdress, cleaned my teeth and went to bed.

I reflected on the day, I still wasn't sure about anything except that I loved Simon and his crazy sister, now my crazy sister. That felt good, probably the best thing that had ever happened to me. I also resolved to see Dr Thomas at the first opportunity. I would call her office first thing tomorrow.

I drifted in and out of sleep, feeling hot because we'd eaten so late. I dreamt I was getting married and my mother was there holding out something blue - her sapphire necklace and earings, and smiling. When I woke, I was crying because I knew she would have approved of what I was doing and I promised I would wear her jewellery when I got married.

I would need to talk to my father soon too. That was another problem. Just what was I going to do with him? I slept fitfully after that waking when I heard Simon shouting for help.

I ran downstairs and he was struggling to disentangle himself from the blanket, "Need a pee," he said. I pulled off the blanket and pulled him upright, he wasn't very steady but I steered him into the cloak room and held up the bottle for him, he used it as I looked away. Then after clearing up, I helped him upstairs. He's a biggish man and I struggled to push him up, but we made it, then I had to help him undress and pull on his pyjamas, finally he was in bed. He farted and rolled over to sleep on his back. I pecked him goodnight and went back to my own bed. It was four o'clock, with luck I'd manage another three hours.

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Feel free to comment, it makes the story seem interesting, if that's possible. 8)

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 139

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Fiction

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

Other Keywords: 

  • Sissy
  • hangover
  • assault
  • the kindness of strangers.

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

Encounters with animals! The monkeys srike back but help comes from an unexpected source - India! See for yourself....

Easy As ....you know the rest.
by: me again, couldn't sleep.
part: who's counting.

The next morning, I awoke from my troubled night with tired eyes, however, I wasn't quite as fragile as my two house mates. It was quite funny banging dishes and doors and seeing the response. Stella's was the more enjoyable, she actually chased me with a knife at one point, except running made her head ache even more.

At eight thirty I called Dr Thomas and was put through to her herself, much to my surprise. "Hello Dr Thomas."

"Hello, its's Cathy Watts, I'd like to make and appointment to see Dr Thomas. As soon as I can, please."

"Hello, Cathy, it's Dr Thomas."

"Hi, doctor, can I make an appointment to see you, I need your advice."

"It sounds urgent, is it?"

"Pretty urgent, I suppose."

"Let me see, I am absolutely solid today, how about tomorrow....can you come in early, say at eight?"

"Gosh, you start early," I gasped.

"Only when I need to, can you make it or not?"

"I'll be there doctor."

"Good, I'll have some coffee on."

"Thank you."

"Tomorrow then."

I counted myself lucky that such a busy person was prepared to put herself out for me. I decided to take her some flowers or a little thank you gift.

Breakfast was a slice of fresh bread with some jam and copious cups of tea. Stella was muttering and drinking water with soluble aspirins, and Simon was still prone in his bed.

I helped get him up and dressed and left the two hangover sufferers to go into uni and from there to my room. Simon wanted me to stay with them, but I told them I needed to do some work.

Once at the lab, I discovered I had three students who wanted to take part in my study project, two girls and a boy. I left messages for them to contact me. I cleared out my cupboard of the remains of the last night I did field work.

The book, my records, or what was left of them I dumped in the bin along with the remains of my rucksack and the image intensifier. I had no stomach to go out on my own to the woodland sites, unless it was in daylight and even then I felt scared.

I'd arranged a tutorial with Judy and we met as scheduled. I found us a small room that was free for a couple of hours. She brought me her work and I realised we had quite a lot to do to help her catch up. Amazingly, she was okay with the maths, the bit that always tripped me up, it was the biology that seemed to overwhelm her. Takes all sorts I suppose. She was a mathematician essentially from her A levels, she hadn't done any biology since her GCSE levels, and that was pretty scant.

"Why did you want to do zoology? It looks as if mathematics is your bag?" I asked her over a cuppa.

"Dunno, it all got a little too abstract and I wanted to help fight global warming. I saw something about Professor Agnew in the paper and decided I wanted to study under him."

"Well it's a good department, and I hope will have an impact on understanding climate change through its effects on habitats and those in turn of the mammals living there."

"Do you think it's too late to turn things around?"

"I don't know, it's not my job to decide that, only to feedback what I can from my own study. But the bigger the overall picture, the more understanding there will be. So it all helps."

"Yeah I guess," she sighed and we went through her difficulties. I felt they weren't insurmountable, just time consuming. We set up the next meeting and I set her some prpearation to do beforehand, rewriting an essay which had got poor marks. We were going to resubmit each of them after I'd helped her understand the processes each explored.

"I like working with you," she said, "you take your time to make sure I understand, like having a big sister."

"Don't you have any siblings?" I asked.

"No, Mum and Dad decided they only wanted one child and to give me all they could. Unfortunately no one asked me what I wanted, which was a sister, or even a brother."

"Yeah, I know the feeling."

"Dad said your mum died recently."

"Yes, about a month ago."

"I'm sorry, it must be tough."

"Well, these things happen but my father having a stroke hasn't helped."

"Oh my goodness, that's awful."

"Yeah, for him it is, he was quite active before, at present he's still awaiting full assessment at Southmead."

"How often do you get to see him?"

"I try and get up weekly, make him some soup and bread. He won't eat hospital food if he can help it."

"Do you like cooking?"

"It's okay, my fiance seems to enjoy it."

"You're engaged?" She looked startled, then blushing said, "Is that like to a man or a woman?"

"I'm a woman, okay?" she nodded with open mouth. "So I'm engaged to a lovely man who wouldn't take no for an answer."

"Like wow! Have you got a ring yet?"

"Not yet, he only put the thumbscrews on yesterday. I wanted to wait until I'd got my doctorate, he wanted to go ahead. I weakened."

"So this like happened yesterday?"

"Yes."

"Oh wow, congratulations." She jumped up and hugged me, kissing me on the cheek.

"Yeah, can you keep this under your hat. I have enough to deal with at the moment."

"Yeah, course I will."

"Go on clear off, you'll be late for your lab work," I gently scolded her.

The rest of the day I spent working on my survey, playing with figures, it looked as if my colonies were increasing in size albeit slowly. That left me feeling happy as I drove back to my room. The mail box soon dissipated that feeling, I recognised another poison pen letter.

I'd pinched some latex gloves from the lab and put them on before opening the letter.

'Hello Sissyboy,
Still prancing about in girly clothes then? Not for much longer though. The day of reckoning is coming, and the count down has started.

An ill-wisher'

I placed it in a plastic sandwich bag to hand to the police tomorrow.

The other mail was boring bills or junk. I decided to pop to the shop to get some fresh milk and ironically some bread. Simon had consumed all of the loaf I'd baked helped by Stella and my own couple of slices.

I was wearing jeans, a polo necked jumper and a denim jacket along with my trainers, okay they were girly ones, Reeboks with pink trim. As I walked along my mind on going to the police after seeing Dr Thomas meant I was too self absorbed to notice Big mac and his sidekick Tiger approaching. Ha Tiger, Tigger would have been more appropriate, he was about as dangerous as Winnie the Pooh's friend.

"Oh look it's our own sissy." The words hit me like a bucket of water. I stopped in my tracks. "That's right isn't it Cathy, or is it really Charlie?"

I had nowhere to run, Bigmac was stood to one side and Tiger was at the other with a wall behind me. I had to stand and take their insults and hopefully talk my way out of a beating.

"To think you nearly fooled me, Charlie, I even half fancied you. But the uni is full of the rumours of our pretty sissy."

"Excuse me, I have things to do," I said trying to push past them.

Bigmac pushed me back against the wall. "I hear sissies like to give blow jobs, is that right?"

"I wouldn't know, I'm a woman," I said trying not to shake too much and show how frightened I was.

Big mac laughed. "I'm a woman," he repeated in a silly voice. "No you're not, you're a sissy, some prissed up little boy, who wants to be a girl. Well maybe we'll help you!" He grabbed at my crotch which hurt, but the expression on his face was shock. "He ain't got none."

"What!" his friend exclaimed, what no balls.

I pushed him away from me, slapping his hand from the crotch of my jeans. "I told you, I'm a woman."

"Are you having trouble?" said a voice from behind the two thugs, it was the shopkeeper.

"They were just going," I spat at the two would be assailants.

"Oh good, but I have telephoned the police just in case, they are on their way."

The two half-wits walked away back towards their rooms and mine. I was still shaking and tears were forming.

"Come into my shop and sit down for a moment," the shopkeeper assisted me down the road a few yards and into his shop. He took me through and into the backroom, where I plonked myself into a chair. "I will get us some tea, the cup that refreshes." I sat feeling shocked, yes shocked, and the shaking and the tears began in earnest.

"Here, drink this," he handed me a mug of hot,strong tea. Far stronger than I normally drank, and when I tasted it, it had several sugars. Oh God, I can't drink this.

He sat with me and watched as I forced it down. Somehow I managed it, without doing a reprise, all over his room. "Thank you."

"You don't have a brother do you?" he asked.

"No, I lied to you, I'm sorry." The tears flowed again.

"There is no need to apologise, you were protecting yourself. I understand."

"I'll stay away from your shop if you want me too," I offered feeling ashamed of myself.

"Don't do that, you are one of my favourite customers, I like to see your pretty, smiling face."

"Thank you."

"You are most welcome. How is your father?"

"I haven't seen him for a few days, but he was okay the last time I saw him, except he refuses to eat hospital food when he can get away with it."

"So what does he eat?"

"When I go home I make him soup and bake him bread."

"Like a true daughter would."

"Yeah, I suppose."

"Your father is a lucky man, to have such a beautiful and dutiful daughter."

"Hey that rhymes," I said laughing, although tears were still flowing.

"My goodness me, so it does. I am a poet, no?" He laughed back at me.

"I'd better go."

"Where were you going, when they accosted you?"

"I was coming here to get some milk and things."

"Well come on then, I can't turn down my favourite customer." I wiped my face, which thankfully had little or no make up on and followed him out to the shop, his wife was serving a customer and smiled at me.

"Are you better now?" she asked in a very Indian accent.

"Yes thank you."

"It is good, I am glad," she chirrupped.

I got my milk, some more tissues and toilet paper, and some rolls along with a box of six eggs. I was going to do some egg rolls for myself.

"Will you be alright with those boys or should I walk you back?"

"I think you should walk her back, Raj, you do not know what they might try again."

"I'll be alright honestly, they only stopped me because I was thinking about other things and didn't see them until it was too late."

"They could be waiting in the doorway of your building, Raj you must go with her."

Despite my protests, he walked me right up to my room. I thanked him and pecked him on the cheek, whereupon he did a little dance and smiled at me. Then he went back to his shop. I went into my room chuckling, he was such a nice man, compared to the two tossers along the corridor.

I shut the door and secured it with my patented device. It didn't make me feel any more secure really and I did wonder about moving elsewhere. I knew I could move in with Simon and Stella, but I didn't want to do that, not yet anyway, I needed somewhere I could come and think without distraction.

I made myself some tea, as I liked it, not too strong and no sugar. I then reflected on my eventful evening. The nasty letter and its envelope were before me in the plastic bag, and my run in with the clowns along the corridor. They had both used the word 'sissy' I suppose it's a common enough term of derision towards less than masculine men. So I should expect it, except my dangleless crotch had them confused.

I presumed that Bigmac had intended to injure my genitals, to help me achieve womanhood! Only he was surprised to discover no dangly bits. Now he may decide I had them tucked away with a gaff or whatever they call them, or he may just consider I don't have any. His Crocodile Dundee method of deciding sex, was very crude if not cruel, although I suppose I did grab Tiger there a week or two before, when pulling him out of my way. I giggled at that which meant I needed a wee. I had some bruising starting around my groin, but it was better than it would have been had I really had something to grab hold of.

Later, eating my egg rolls, I did wonder if the letters and the boys were connected and decided they weren't, they only seemed to realise about me when they learned from uni, the grapevine was working well. Oh well as long as the press didn't find out, I hoped I would cope with the innuendo or strange looks I was going to get for a few weeks. I knew that all I had to do was stick it out for a few more weeks and it would cease to be news. I just had to hold my nerve, and let's face it, I didn't have a choice. This was my bed and I had to lay in it.

''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

Feel free to comment, we don't charge for the service.

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 140

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Fiction

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Other Keywords: 

  • plotless
  • boring
  • clueless
  • pointless? but look at the word count!

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

Doctors and detectives, the plot doesn't get any better, in fact it sucks!

Easy As Falling In Love.
by: Angharaddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddd!
part:eleven dozen and eight.

Much to my surprise, I awoke, showered, dressed and managed a bite of something and was outside Dr Thomas' office at five minutes to eight. I'd had an awful night, but I'd survived the dreams and the tears and the hours of wakefulness in between. I had make up on, but I knew I looked as bad as I felt.

"Come on in Cathy, black or white?" she asked pouring a coffee. "What happened to you?" She had spotted the drop in my appearance.

"I had a bad night."

"How often does that happen?"

"Now and again."

"What happens?"

"I sometimes have bad dreams, sometimes I can't sleep or am worried."

"Worried about what?"

"All sorts of things, getting married, my dad, finishing my degree, the poison letters, you name it."

"What's this about letters?"

I had opened it again and placed it in the bag so it could be read without removal. Dr Thomas read it, "This isn't the first is it?"

"No about five I think, the police have the others."

"Okay, that's the correct thing to do. This sounds as if it's heading for some sort of confrontation, so just be careful that you don't put yourself at risk. Do whatever it is you have to to get away and call the police. As soon as you know who it is call the police. I know a chief inspector, I'll have a quiet word with him if you have no objections, he may spur them into doing a bit more than they seem to be doing."

"Thank you." I picked up the letter and placed it back in my bag.

"What else kept you awake?"

"Simon has proposed to me and I accepted. I wanted to wait until after I finished my degree, he didn't."

"Do you feel pressured into accepting this?"

"A little, but I set some conditions, like finishing my degree and sorting out what to do with my dad, as well as surgery and getting legal status sorted."

"So it's going to be a while yet?"

"Yes, he knows that and agreed to it, he wants me to live with him, I'm not too sure just yet."

"Mightn't be a bad idea with the 'ill-wisher' around."

"Yeah, but I just like having some space to think. I know when he's back to work, he'll be away some of the time so it won't seem quite so claustrophobic."

"Are you sure you want to marry him, you sound a bit ambivalent to me?"

"Yeah, I want to be his wife or partner, not sure I want the rest of his family except Stella, who I love like a sister."

"Like a sister, so you have no sexual feelings for her, or she for you?"

"Good gracious no, we even call each other 'sister' now."

Dr Thomas nodded, "And you still see yourself wanting surgery."

"I'm glad you brought that up, what's the minimum I have to wait for that?"

"You are supposed to spend one or more years living in role full time before I refer you."

"So Christmas would be too soon then?"

"What! Good lord yes."

"Oh, that's a pity."

"The waiting list for reassignment surgery on the NHS is a year or two, depending on where you live. Here we refer to London. Don't tell me boyfriend knows someone in Thailand or the US who can do it at Christmas?"

"No, Stella knows someone in Portsmouth who could do it at Christmas."

"Portsmouth? I'm not aware of anyone who works in this area who is competent in sex reassignment. It's not everyone's cup of tea."

"Stella is a nurse specialist in urology, she said one of her surgeons used to do them in London or somewhere else."

"Did you get a name?"

"No, I think Michael something, but I'm not sure."

"If this guy was experienced and I don't know him, so I have no idea, and he offered to do it at Christmas, would you let him?"

"Only if you agreed to it. I'd have it done this afternoon if I could."

"What if I said no?"

"I'd be sad about it but respect your advice."

"You'd have to find a second psychiatrist or psychologist to agree to the referral."

"I know."

"It would be awfully short, what three or four months maximum."

"Yes I know. I didn't think you would wear it."

"Have I said no?"

"Not yet but I suspect you will."

"Well you may be right, or you could be wrong."

"What?"

"If I did refer you and you subsequently regretted the surgery, then I could be in a difficult position."

"I don't think I would."

"You're not certain, then?"

"Oh I am certain I was meant to be female, so in that regard getting shot of some superfluous skin, doesn't worry me. However, if I was left incontinent or in pain after surgery, I could regret it then."

"I see. Would you like sex with Simon?"

"I would love to have sex with Simon, when he's recovered."

"Of course, he was shot."

"Yes, he's getting there."

"Good. So why can't you have sex now?"

"Because he's been injured."

"When he heals."

"I don't want sex with him as I am."

"I'm sure you could improvise."

"Look, I've had a little, heavy petting that sort of thing but not penetrative sex."

"Why not, you love him and fancy him, don't you?"

"Because I want him to make love to me as a woman, not just have sex. Besides, I'm not sure I want something shoved up there."

"Why not, lots of woman do it."

"Am I not allowed to choose what I want?"

"Of course you are, it's very important that you do. I'm just surprised you haven't tried it."

"I'm not gay." I blushed.

"You sure?"

"Yes, I don't fancy women." I knew that I had stepped outside her line of questioning and it was deliberate. I watched her face, there was the mental slap I gave her, then her eyes crinkled and so did the corners of her mouth, then she roared with laughter.

"Very good," she said, "I suppose I asked for that."

I simply shrugged my shoulders.

"Okay, I need to know more about this surgeon, ask Stella to give me a ring. I also need to think who I can refer you too for a second opinion."

"You mean you might go with Christmas? Wow, what a present that would be!" I almost danced I felt so boosted.

"Don't get your hopes up too high, we are sailing very close to the wind here and I need some support before I yay or nay it. I also won't refer you to someone who isn't going to do the best job possible, I want you to enjoy the rest of your life as a woman, not carry some awful mutilation because you were in a hurry."

"Thank you doctor, you are absolutely right."

"Christmas eh? Jesus, you'll get me struck off at this rate."

"Well don't do it then, forget it, I'll have to wait like everyone else."

"You would do that to save me any risk?"

"Yes, I would. You've been there for me so often, like today. I couldn't ask you to do anything that puts you at risk or makes you compromise your standards."

"This isn't just to make me feel better about things is it?"

"I feel sad you ask that, because I have never lied to you. You saved my life, you keep me alive. Without you I would be dead or much less happy. You mean a great deal to me Dr Thomas, I wouldn't endanger that for anything."

"Not even to feel complete in yourself?"

"Not even that."

"Okay, that means you have to wait then."

"Okay, I have to wait. I'll tell Stella."

"Is there anything else?"

"Yes, it's got out at the university and two students who previously made overtures to me, confronted me in the street and it got a bit ugly."

"Did they threaten you?"

"Not quite although the one made a grab for my balls, except he couldn't find them, which confused him."

"Where are they then?"

"Pushed up inside."

"Is that wise, it can lead to cancer of the testes?"

"Does it matter, a year or so and they'll be gone anyway and good riddance."

"I see. Okay Cathy, I want to see you next week, can you make an appointment with reception."

"Okay Dr Thomas, thanks for coming in early to see me."

"That's okay."

"Can you accept this as a thank you." I handed her bottle of good red wine.

"Bribery and corruption eh?" she smiled.

"No a small token of my respect for you and what you do for me."

"Thank you young lady, and congratulations on your engagement, I hope it brings you all the happiness you deserve."

"Can I hug you doctor?"

"If you want." I did, and I did.

I made another appointment for the next monday, I could see her first thing before I went into uni and after seeing Simon. Well it seemed like a good idea at the time. I don't know why she wanted to see me in a week, maybe it was because I looked like shit or about the letters. Even though I had learned I had to wait for a year for surgery, I had to accept her advice, I loved the woman, she was like an informal mother.

I went to see the plod. The DC I'd seen before wasn't there and instead I saw a young woman, she went and got the file. "We sent them down for examination, it's copier paper could have come from anywhere and the print is an inkjet printer. The only fingerprints on it are yours and we suspect another woman."

"Oh shit, I showed them to Stella, my fiance's sister."

"Well if we had her prints it would confirm or deny that. I see you have another."

"Yes, I got it yesterday although I haven't been home for a week." I handed it to her.

"They seem to be increasingly confrontational."

"That was what my consultant said."

"Consultant?"

"Yeah, my shrink. When you transition you have to be supervised by a shrink, to make sure you aren't crazy."

"Well I suppose it's a huge change to make, I think you're very brave, you're also very pretty for someone who was supposed to be a man. Looks like you made the right choice. You're engaged then?"

"Yeah, to a wonderful man."

"What's his name?"

"Do you have to have that?"

"Are you ashamed of it?"

"No of course not, he's Simon Cameron."

"Not the Simon Cameron?"

"What do you mean, 'the Simon Cameron'." I asked.

"The banker's son, Lord Stanegate or whatever."

"Stanebury."

"It is, isn't it?"

"Yes," I blushed, thinking that I should have refused to tell her.

"Well, well."

"Do you know him then?"

"No, but I've met his dad a couple of times, professionally of course, what a sweet talker he is."

"Yes, he is a bit of a smoothie."

She gave me a very knowing look, then smiled. "Okay, these couldn't be coming from a jealous ex girlfriend of Simon?"

"I can't see how, because they started before he knew."

"So let me get this straight, he went out with you not knowing about your history?"

"He didn't know I was transsexual, no."

"That doesn't exclude someone else knowing, just because he didn't."

"No, that's true, his sister knew."

"So could she have sent them?"

"I very much doubt it, she is like a sister to me, and I hope I am to her."

"Sisters can do horrible things to each other too, perhaps she's jealous of you?"

"I can't believe that. No not Stella, she's crazy in a nice sort of way, but not jealous. It was her who set me up with her brother in the first place. She's also been wanting me to marry him because we get on so well."

"Okay, well take care, anything suspicious call us. Don't try to handle it by yourself, this person is mean and has already broken several criminal laws by posting threatening and offensive items through the Royal Mail. He or she is a criminal, and we don't like criminals walking about annoying people."

"What even people like me?"

"I'm not sure what makes you different from any other young woman who's received threatening letters, except the Cameron's money could make life difficult for whoever when we catch them."

"In what way?"

"You could sue them for damages."

"I think I'd just be happy to know there wouldn't be anymore of them, it's quite upsetting for me to open my mailbox these days."

"Well, we shall do our best to help you achieve that end."

"Thanks," I said and shook hands with DC Sheila Scott.

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Keep the comments coming, they brighten up my sad existence! 8)

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 141

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Fiction

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

Cathy shows off her dormouse handling skills and misses the point of the exercise.

Easy As Falling Off A Trike.
by Angharad
part 1+4+1 = half a dozen 8)

I got back to the university by about half ten, I felt exhausted but I had three students to interview about the project. I was just finishing my tea when they arrived. It was obvious they'd heard the rumours because while they approached me they were whispering and exchanging glances. I thought we'd get the sniggering over fast.

"Hi I'm Cathy Watts," I reached out a hand to the first student a buxom girl, with unruly dark hair. She was taller and wider than I was, and her hand was larger.

"Zoe, Zoe Tripp. She blushed as her hand seemed to engulf mine. I felt quite good about it.

Next was, "Denise," a redhead about my size with masses of freckles and brown eyes, quite a pretty girl.

Finally, "Nick," was the young man who brought up the rear, wearing those ridiculous jeans that show the wearer's underpants, in this case made by 'Ben Sherman'.

"Okay, I saw the sniggers and funny looks, care to share it with me?"

"They said you were a transvestite," offered Zoe.

"A transvestite?" I shook my head.

"And what do you think, are they correct?" None of them made any effort to say anything.
"If we're going to be working together, I think we need to resolve this, okay?"

The three students nodded. "I'm going to ask you in turn what you think, okay?" they all nodded.

I looked at Zoe, "You look like a woman to me, prettier than I am."

"Yeah, I agree. Those trousers would show if you were a boy," contributed Denise.

"Doin' anything tonight?" said Nick, smiling.

"I don't think you could afford me, Nick, but thanks for the offer. The other thing is that my fiance may not take it too kindly and he's quite a bit bigger than you." I watched him blush.

I then spent half an hour outlaying my project and the data I was collecting. They asked a few questions and I answered them. I explained how important it was and that they had to be committed to it or leave now.

I showed them our captive breeding programme, where Neal was cleaning out some containers. "Hi Neal, how's it going?"

"Hi gorgeous," he said, flirting with me enough to make me blush. The three youngsters were laughing at his fooling around. He did manage to steal a kiss though and went off pretending he was drunk.

"See what I have to put up with, Nick you should be okay, I don't think he's gay." That made Nick blush and the girls titter. I explained what we were trying to achieve and how the programme had already cost over twenty thousand pounds a year to run.

We went back to my room at the lab and I explained some more. At the end, they all wanted in, which was good. We agreed to meet on the next evening at the university and I would show them how to do a site check. I gave them a pile of paper about the project results and the two papers I'd published with Prof Agnew. I also gave them a photocopied article on dormouse signs and habitats, plus a couple of gnawed hazel nut shells, showing how they differed from mouse or squirrel gnawed shells. They seemed quite impressed.I hoped they would be responsible and reliable, this thing was my baby.

The nutty professor had insisted I meet him for lunch at a pub about four hundred yards away, I walked there. He waved from the lounge bar when he saw me at the door. "Hi Cathy," he gave me a peck on the cheek.

He ordered me a St Clements, and asked me how things were going. I explained that I had been to see Dr Thomas, the police and then interviewed three students for my project.

"That all?" he laughed when I went to strangle him. "They any good?"

"I won't know until I get some results back from them, I just hope they have stickability."

"Yes, quite a commitment, still they could also get mention in government circles and a mention in some big journal papers. 'Nature' have agreed to do a peer review when we have something to show them and the Journal of the Mammalian Society are also interested. I also told the BBC Natural History magazine that you'd do them a piece with some nice piccies of dormice, about a thousand words. Oh you'll get a fifty quid fee for that."

"The money would be nice, but when am I supposed to write it?"

"What about this afternoon, I know you have some amazing pictures of dormice. Email it to this guy at this address."

"Bristol, that figures."

"Oh you could have dropped it in on thursday, never mind." He laughed at me and once more I made to strangle him. "Never bite the hand that feeds you." I moved back. "Talking of which, what do you want to eat?" I settled for a jacket potato with tuna in mayonnaise. He had a chicken curry.

"Tomorrow morning I need you to look tidy, I want you to show someone around your captive breeding set up. Have you still got your tame vermin?"

"What Spike?"

"Spike, what sort of name is that for a bloody dormouse?"

"Well she has a small spike of hair where she got bitten when she was young, it stands up a bit."

"I'll bet they've all got names haven't they?"

"So, what's wrong with that?"

"Geez woman, you're supposed to be a scientist, not a nursery nurse."

"These are my babies," I pouted at him and he nearly choked on his Guinness, when he'd stopped coughing, he shook his head and rolled his eyes at me, "I knew we shouldn't have had women on this project."

"You seemed quite pleased to have me at your house the other night, your impromptu dinner party, remember."

"Oh, all right, I suppose you do have your uses."

"You're only jealous because I slept with Simon."

"Yes I am, damned impertinence, that!"

"Well at least he had the grace to ask me to marry him, you wouldn't have." I pouted again.

"I'm your employer, if I married you Mary would kill me after the ceremony." He laughed drawing his hand across his throat. "Besides, he's better looking and has more money and probably more staying power," he winked at me, "if he hasn't give me a shout," he winked again.

"You are a dirty old man Agnew," said a male voice. We both looked up to see Dr Andrews stood beside us. "Well aren't you going to get me a drink Tom?"

"He does this to me every time," sighed Prof Agnew, "here, get him a gin and tonic, no ice," he thrust a fiver in my hand. I sighed and went and got it for him, bloody stereotype again!

"Right any more nasties in the post?" asked Agnew.

"What's this?" asked the Dean.

I explained about the letters and that I had been to the police that morning again. They both made reassuring noises of support, but there wasn't much else they could do. We all walked back to the university and I sat and wrote a simple account of the dormouse recovery programme and gave little other information. I included some rather good photos taken with infra red, some close ups of Spike, who is quite happy to pose in daylight as long as I give her a brazil nut. I know if ever she gets to South America, she'll destroy the rainforest in about three weeks. She'll also do tricks for coconut, but I don't tell the professor about that, she's too tame to put into the wild unless it was next door to Waitrose or Sainsbury's.

I went home feeling a bit anxious in case there was any more trouble with the two morons on my floor or more hate mail. There was neither. I ended up having a quiet night, a couple of rolls and some tea, a quick call to Simon and I went to bed. He wanted me to go back to the cottage, I declined. I needed an early night and had one.

I awoke at about six and decided to get up, I showered checked my legs for hair and after shaving them decided I'd get them waxed next time, shaving was a drag every week or two. I did under my arms as well. I did my hair in a down style and put on a bit more makeup than I'd usually wear to work. I wore a suit Stella had given me, with a scoop necked top and a push up bra. I showed a bit of cleavage. I ummed and ahhed over it for about quarter of an hour. I wondered who the mysterious visitor was that Agnew had given me instructions to impress. I added my mother's sapphire necklace and earrings then a silver bracelet and her engagement ring, on my right hand. A squirt of Chanel no 5 in various places and I was ready.

The suit was a straight skirt which came to above knee, and fitted jacket which made the most of my bust and smaller waist, making the one look bigger and the other smaller respectively. It was in a cornflower design on a darker blue background and made by some French company in Paris. It fitted me like a glove and with my navy pumps, looked quite smart. Too smart for the office really. I had tea and toast for breakfast not feeling very hungry and concerned I might get jam on my outfit.

I popped in to see Mary Miller, "Wow Cathy, you look great, you going somewhere nice today?"

"No, Grumpy told me to look tidy today," I nodded at the professor's door.

"You look like a model."

"I'm too short and not curvy enough."

"I don't think so. I think you look beautiful."

"Thank you Mrs Miller, I think you look pretty good too."

"Call me Mary, Cathy, you're far too polite you know."

"Thanks Mary, if that's okay."

"Course it is pet. Let's have a cuppa before bighead gets in."

We had just finished when the Professor came in, I was stood with my back to him when he came in, looking at some photos Mary had of her son's wedding. "Is that the person from the ministry?" he hissed at Mary.

"No, it's Lady Stanebury," hissed Mary back, I'd told her of my engagement while we had our coffee.

"Who? Is she with the Department?"

"Yes, friend of the Secretary of State," hissed Mary.

"You'd better introduce me." I heard him say and felt him walking closer.

"Lady Stanebury, can I introduce the nutty professor," said Mary to my back. On hearing Simon's name I turned around.

"Jesus, Mar...., bloody hell it's Cathy, you look amazing, every part the lady of the manor. He took my hand and kissed it.

I stood there blushing and glaring at Mary who was cackling like an old witch.

"Is this the ring?" asked Agnew, looking at my hand which he still held.

"No, it's my mum's, we haven't got one yet, haven't had time."

"Get a good one girl, he can afford it," advised my boss.

"I shall know the one when I see it."

"Right, has our visitor arrived yet?"

"Not yet, you said ten." Mary didn't allow him all his own way.

"Okay, it's half nine now, you in my office," he pointed at me, "You make me some coffee," he nodded at Mary."

"One grain or two?" she called back.

"What?" he looked puzzled.

"Arsenic, one grain or two?"

"I wondered why it always tasted so foul." He ushered me into his office. "We have some quite important guests coming, God but you do look fabulous this morning," he scratched his groin. "One from Natural England, another from the Department of the Environment, and some creep from Brussels."

"The last one from the EU was a lovely man, looked liked a film star." I sighed a deliberate deep sigh and pretended to look starry eyed.

"You silly cow, this one is likely to be bald and fat."

"Like you?"

"Cheeky bitch, you just watch that pet rat of yours doesn't jump down that cleavage because I might be tempted to help find him."

"Spike is female and she's a dormouse not a rat."

"All the bloody same, hairy tailed rats!" He loved to wind me up, but today I wasn't going to play.

"Some zoologist you are, don't know your arsefoot from your elbow!"

"My what?" he spluttered at me.

"It's an American grebe, also called a helldiver I believe."

"The birdwatching I do is usually in pubs and clubs and infinitely more satisfying than those feathered things you like."

I shook my head in mock disgust, "Still you look tidier than usual," I said appraising him. He just glowered.

Mary came in without a coffee, "There's a cab pulling up outside, I think your visitors are early."

"Oh hell, make them drive around the block, I need my caffeine."

"Can't you have one with them?" I asked.

"What the stuff Mary makes, you're joking."

"It hasn't killed you yet," I observed.

"It's only a matter of time," he said and slumped in his chair. "I had hair till she came to work for me."

"You're an old drama queen," I quipped.

"Taken you a long time to discover that," he said his eyes twinkling, "Elope with me before they get here," he said his eyes pleading.

"Sorry, not today, I left the cooker on."

"Oh bugger!" he said and we laughed.

"Where do you want me, with regard to your vistors?" I added quickly.

"Here by my side, no better still where you are, I can see more of your cleavage."

The door opened and Mary ushered in, "Dr Hill from Natural England, Dr Smythe from The DoE and Professor O'Malley from the EU." In walked a middle aged man, a woman about forty but in good condition, and a tall red haired man with a huge bushy beard. He was as Irish as they came and he had a voice like liquid chocolate, I nearly melted under the table when he introduced himself.

"Tom Agnew, and my post grad colleague, Cathy Watts. I've asked her to accompany us because she's running the rodent element of the survey. She's also set up a captive breeding programme for dormice, which we'll go round presently." I shook hands with all three of our visitors, the mad Irishman kissing my hand. What is it with professors?

Agnew did eventually get his coffee and we talked about the survey and the costs, or at least he did. Then about half an hour later, we went to go down to my lab and the dormouse project, and Dr Smythe asked if we could take some photos to report to the minister. I could hardly refuse, expecting her to produce a small digital camera, instead she beckoned over a young bloke with a camera bag.

We went down to my lab and I explained my own survey and showed some of my computerised data, then we went to see Spike and her buddies. I had a brazil nut and she happily sat in my hand feeding from it, storing bits in her cheek pouches.

"Can we get a picture of you holding the dormouse?" asked Dr Smythe. I could hardly refuse when she had agreed to fund some more equipment, night vision stuff and more laboratory equipment. The cages we used were quite expensive built especially for us in darkened glass. "Just to show the minister." I stood there like a lemon smiling while Spike tickled my hand."

"Hold her up just a little higher, lets get the cages in the shot as well, that's great. Now one with you as well Professor," and Agnew stood alongside me, his arm around my waist. Then it was with the mad Celt, and the Natural England bod. Finally one of us all together with me in the middle, still holding Spike, although she was now on a hazelnut.

At last it was over, I think during the visit Spike had eaten half her bodyweight in nuts. Oh well she's so good, blinking in the daylight. I love her to bits, and she's had so many babies, and reared them all. I get broody when I see her pregnant again, but I can never have babies of my own. Sigh!

The phone in the lab rang, "Are you coming to lunch with us?" It was Agnew.

"Do I have to?" I wasn't really hungry.

"But of course."

"Okay, I'll be right up." I nipped in the toilet and freshened up, afterwards I walked up to his office, then accompanied the mob to a nice restaurant about a mile away, ferried there by a large Mercedes.

After lunch, where I was pretty well forced to have some Chablis with my tuna bake, the visitors were collected by the Merc again and Agnew and I got an ordinary cab, back to the uni.

"Thanks for doing the photos, they'll look really good on the poster, there'll also be one in the local rag tomorrow."

"What? You are going to use those photos for the poster?"

"Yes, why do you think they took them?"

"She said for the minister."

"Yes, he's the one who wanted the pictures for the poster, to keep your boyfriend's bank happy."

"If I'd known that was what they were doing I wouldn't have agreed to it."

"Who else could hold your tree rat for half an hour?"

"Neal, she's quite fond of him and Sharon."

"Sharon is on leave, besides, you looked really dishy today."

"I hate you!" I pouted, "I just hope there won't be any negative feedback from them via the tabloids."

"Can't think why."

"The grapevine is on broadband speeds," I explained.

"Publish and be damned," he said and put his arm around me, "we could still elope if you'd prefer."

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Comments are welcome, tell me what crap it is!

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 142

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Fiction

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Other Keywords: 

  • designer labels
  • awkward questions
  • red light district.

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

Cathy fields questions on her field work. See what her answers were.

dormouse.jpg

Easy As They Come.
by Angostura Bitters
part: eleven dozen and ten.

"I can't believe I let them take photographs without asking what they were for," I told Simon as soon as I got back to my room.

"Don't worry, I'm sure you looked stunning."

"What I looked like is the least of my worries, no, let me rephrase that, what they do with it is the most of my worries, how I appeared is a partial worry. If I look like a dog, then I'd prefer they don't use any of them."

"I didn't think you could photograph angels anyway."

"Well I have one on my drivers licence."

"Ah, maybe it's a likeness of someone similar to you."

"Nice try Si, I'm not in the least angelic. Try Stella."

"If Stella didn't come out on photos it's because she's a vampire!"

"She's your sister Simon, have some respect."

"What, she used to be before she got bitten by the worst sort of vampire."

"What one's that?" I enquired knowing I was setting myself up.

"The shopping vampire, feeds on credit cards and charge cards. Sucks 'em dry in minutes."

"That's a dreadful thing to say," I chided him.

"It's true though, just make sure she doesn't bite you."

"Okay Simon, I'll try and wear a crucifix or some sort of protection."

"Just keep away from shops and the internet. That's the best protection."

"Okay. I have to go back into the department, so I have to go lover."

"Oh, that's unusual."

"Yeah, gotta show some students the ropes."

"You're going out to those woods again aren't you?"

"Erm,"

"You are, I can smell it."

"No that's my deodorant, Eau de Dormouse, Spike tinkled on me."

"Don't change the subject."

"I have to go."

"Call me when you get back, I won't be asleep."

"Don't be silly, it could be two or three o'clock before I get back, depends on how quick this lot are to pick it all up."

"Ring me." He put his phone down and I felt myself blushing. My autonomic nervous system was obviously in fine fettle.

I drove the Mondeo into the university and they were sat waiting for me outside the department. I had already loaded the equipment and checked it all. We had torches and two lots of night vision equipment. I held up the new hardback book.

"I've made columns and all we have to do is make the measurements and counts and write them in here. Then I'll stick 'em on the 'puter. When you do them on your own, just follow what I did before, it's straightforward enough. The hard part is taking the measurements in the dark. You need a red light to see what you're doing without dazzling yourself or scaring the animals. For some reason, red doesn't seem to worry them."

They giggled, "Okay, I know, it's the red light district. Let's go play zoologists."

We chatted as I drove to the woodland. I'd arranged for them to get a spare key for the foresty gate. I showed them how to open the gate and move the pole aside, then we drove through and up the woodland track.

"Gosh isn't it dark?" said Zoe.

"Yeah, it's cos the sun went down," quipped Nick.

"Yep, Appollo is driving his chariot somewhere else, okay let's get started. Keep the noise down, and you'll be surprised what you see and hear."

Using only red lights we walked to site one and I showed them what to do, it was slower going than usual as I had to repeat things, but they seemed to be enjoying it.

Site two and three were equally slow as I let them do the recording and measuring. By site four, they had some idea and two hours later we'd done the lot. I was shattered and they looked to be quite tired.

"It's harder work than I thought," said Denise.

"You used to do this on your own didn't you?" asked Nick.

"Yes I did, but because of what happened, we won't allow anyone to go on their own, so it has to be at least two of you. If you want to recruit others, that's fine as long as I have met them and agreed. It's a serious bit of work and it could get you a chance to work in survey stuff after you graduate. It's also about the most prestigious project going on in Europe at the moment, and just to say you were part of it, will look good on your CV."

"Weren't you scared out here on your own?"

"No, I knew the area in daylight before I came out here at night. I've combed practically every square metre looking for signs, so I think I can say I know it intimately. Some time in the next month or so, before Christmas, I'm going to be surveying some additional areas in daylight. If you want to come along to see what's involved, let me know, or anyone else you think might be interested."

"You enjoy your work, don't you?" asked Zoe.

"No, I love my work. For me, this is what biology is all about, not chopping up things in labs, although that is necessary to see how things work, but communing with nature out of doors. Seeing it as it is, being a part of it."

"You're quite a romantic, aren't you?"

"It shows does it Denise?"

"It's a bit unusual for a woman."

"Oh we're back to that are we. Okay, I used to be a man, end of story, so now you can tell all your friends. But before that think about Jane Goodall and Diane Fossey and tell me women don't do this sort of stuff!"

"I'm sorry," said Zoe, "but they told me to check."

"Check what?"

"That you were female."

"Why, for God's sake, what difference does it make."

"My friend says the most beautiful woman I'll ever see will probably be a man, a drag artist because they do everything down to the smallest detail."

"They possibly do, but like most other women, I have neither the time nor the inclination. Do you?"

"Course not."

"Okay, are you wearing any make up?"

"Yeah. So what?"

"To come out and walk through a forest in the dark?" I asked her. Denise and Nick seemed very quiet, presumably watching what was going on.

"Have you got any on?" Zoe asked me.

"Nope, just some moisturiser in case it gets cold later, that dries my skin."

"I think you're very brave."

"What coming out here with three body guards?"

"No, changing sex."

"Thank you, as far as I'm concerned I always was female, it's just my body didn't know, so I changed my body."

"Where did you change it, and do you think they'd change mine for me?" asked Zoe, her tongue deeply embedded in her cheek.

I was tempted to say all sorts of nasty things, but didn't. I needed to learn how to cope with this sort of thing without it blowing up and apart from anyone else, upsetting myself. I was sure it would stand me in good stead.

"Right before I close this topic for ever, are there any more questions on my gender identity disorder?"

"You're engaged, does your fiance know about you know?"

"Yes and no he isn't gay, he sees me as a normal woman who can't have children. His family are okay with it too, and so is my father. My mother is dead, so I can't ask her. The university is okay with it and apart from one or two exceptions, it seems so is the whole world. If you're not, then say so now because we're going to have to work together quite a bit."

"Have you had plastic surgery done on your face?"

"No I haven't," I felt quite irritated.

"You must have been a very pretty boy, were you gay?"

"Yes I suppose I was, although I didn't think so at the time. I thought I was a nothing that people ignored, and no I wasn't gay, I wasn't anything until I got kissed as a woman and that seemed to unlock the door."

"Wow, so you were what, celibate?"

"I think asexual, or I thought I was. I changed my mind, maybe the hormones helped, I don't honestly know. But living as a boy, I had no sexual feelings at all, just a sadness that I couldn't be who and what I wanted to be."

"That's awfully sad, I've never thought about it like that before." Offered Denise.

"I wasn't too worried about being a pretty woman as long as I was acceptable as a woman."

"You're not pretty Cathy, you're beautiful." Nick hadn't said much at all.

I was blushing and went all dithery, I still had a problem with compliments. "Erm, that wasn't a question Nick, but shall we finish it there."

"Why do you have a problem with compliments Cathy? That was a question." He was pressing his initiative.

"Do I? Okay, I do. I was brought up in a very strict household. I was expected to always do my best and not expect praise. When my father found out what I was, he beat me badly. He nearly killed me and I then tried to finish the job, you still with me Nick?" He nodded.

"I was saved only because some electrician who was testing appliances came into my room and found me. I can't use paracetamol ever again. My consultant psychiatrist, then gave me back my life and taught me not to be ashamed for what nature or life had made me. Since then I haven't looked back, well not too often. Life doesn't aways go smoothly, but I seem to cope.

Three weeks ago, I was out here with my fiance, doing the survey, he came because he didn't like the idea of a woman out here on her own. I'd always felt safe, never thinking about danger other than falling over a tree root or in a hole. He got shot by poachers and was very lucky not to have received lethal injuries."

"And you came out here again?" asked Denise.

"Yeah, my dormice need me, or now us."

"You said your dad now accepted you, yet he beat you before, what changed?"

"I did, and so did his circumstances, he had a stroke. He now needs me, that meant he had to eat humble pie."

"Gosh you are brave," Denise changed the subject.

"No, the risk of getting shot is higher in town than out here at night. It's a nature reserve, a protected area. The poachers should get long sentences for all sorts of offences. My fiance's dad also has some clout, so it should happen. Provided you don't fall over something or walk into a low branch, hence the hard hats, you are pretty safe. But only in groups of two or more."

They all agreed. "So now you've done a real life test, what do you think, good fun or what?"

"What about bad weather?"

"Do it as soon after as you can, it's important then because very cold weather can kill those animals with insufficient bodyweight. Strong winds can bring down trees and disturb colonies, they can also kill you, so that's a no no. Snow, not usually a problem. Rain, you get wet the department has waterproofs you can borrow, they're horrible, I have my own Gortex stuff. Expensive but excellent. But then, this is my priority, I spent my money on field kit and a bike, not flashy clothes."

"Wasn't that you we saw earlier, with the visitors?"

"Yes, why?"

"In the YSL suit."

"Yes it was."

"You don't splash on clothes?"

"No I told you I don't."

"That was over a thousand quids worth of stuff." Denise was obviously well up on her fashions.

"Well I was given it, I didn't actually pay anything for it."

"What for Yves Saint Laurent?"

"Of course, that's what YSL stands for. I knew it was rather nice, too nice for work, but it did the job. I'm sure Next or Topshop, would have done just as well."

"Can I have your friends name, Cathy in case she chucks out anything else?"

"Who is KC and DK...." I was just winding them up, but well they'd asked for it.

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Comments please, if only to show you stayed awake through it.

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 143

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Fiction

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Other Keywords: 

  • pornographs or was it photographs?

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

How do you tell your father you're engaged? What was it that Cathy told Simon she rolled in the grass with? And what about the photos, and the story in the local paper, or was it Spiked?

Easy As Falling Off A Bike.
by Bonzi's Mum.
part: 143 (just wait for the next one all you dozen fetishists!).

I dropped off my charges at the university and came straight home. I showered and called Simon, it was half past three, in the morning. How did I used to do this and then turn up for lectures - well I needed the sleep! If they showed any slides, ie darkened the room, I was gone, zzuzzing away like a baby.

We spoke very briefly, I dried my hair, had a quick cuppa and bit of toast - crikey that bread was stale, it was like biscuit before I put it in the toaster, but I needed my surviving roll for breakfast.

I fell into bed about four fifteen and died until about nine or half past, when a heavy lorry or something woke me up, the whole building was vibrating and at first I wondered if we were having an earth tremor.

It wasn't and once awake, I got up and tried to rescue my hair. Of course sleeping on it had made it all stand up one side, so my shower instead of saving time had cost me some. I showered again, ate my brekkies and then dried my hair. It looked okay, but I was getting some dark rings under my eyes. I would sleep tonight at my father's house if it killed me.

I dressed and threw on some makeup to try and hide the tiredness marks. It didn't really work, it never does. I packed and set off for Bristol arriving there some three hours later.

I stripped my bed and filled up the machine, got the bread machine loaded and chopped up the vegetables I'd bought on the way in. He could have some soup, but it would be commercial bread until tomorrow, unless I went in again tonight. I yawned and decided I'd make up my mind later.

I vacuumed around and cleaned up the kitchen, the soup was done and eventually so was my washing. It was dry and breezy, and I hung it on the line. I had some stuff to take into Dad, spare jammies and hankies, why he couldn't use tissues like the rest of the planet, God alone knew. I just cringed at the thought of bogies in my panties!
So I used to soak them in bleach in a bucket and wash them by Marigold, my rubber gloves - well I wasn't going to do them by hand! Ugh!

I was almost tempted to cycle in and show him the bike that cost me an arm and a leg. I had a small backpack. I shoved all the stuff I had to take, including his clean clothes and the flask of soup and the part of a French stick I'd bought - the rest was mine for tea. It all went in and was quite heavy, but I'd cope, I thought.

I pulled on my team GB strip - Victoria Pendleton, I was not, sigh! Then keys and small handbag with money and so on tied to the back of my backpack, bike out of garage, and off.

I got to the hospital in twenty minutes, without the extra weight, I could have saved maybe three or four, but I wasn't counting. Well I was actually, it took the average speed down point one of a mile per hour, my average was now 17.8MPH. Go down a nice big hill, that tends to improve things, poor old Cat's eye, easily fooled, a bit like me.

I rode up to the nearest entrance to my Dad's ward and clomped along pushing the bike with me. I then had to plead with the ward Sister to allow me to bring the bike in with me. Was my father surprised, his eyes were on stalks at me in something sporting, although I had told him I rode.

He was so busy looking at my bike, then back at me in racing skins, that he didn't seem to notice the bread was shop bought. In any case by the time it's all been broken up and dunked in the soup, I'm not sure many folk could tell the difference. He cleared the bowl and downed a cuppa.

He called me over and tried to whisper in my ear. "V-ulls, voo got none."

It didn't make much sense, so whispered at him to show me. He prodded me in the crotch, thankfully without anyone seeing. "Gone!" he declared.

"Looks like," I shrugged and he rolled his eyes.

"Voo woss way."

"I've lost weight?"

"Ess."

"Dunno, I think this makes me look skinnier."

"Ice bummm."

"Ice bum? Oh nice bum, gotcha. You're my father, your not supposed to make personal remarks like that. He giggled like a schoolkid.

I stayed for the hour and was leaving with my lighter backpack, when the ward Sister stopped me. "He really misses you, you know. When you call in to see him it lifts him like balloon."

"I'm sorry, but I do have other commitments, including to my employer, the government, my students, the EU and a few dozen dormice."

"Oh, that's what he was saying the other day, you are the dormouse lady."

"That's me."

"I don't now how you find them, like a needle in a haystack, isn't it? I mean they're quite rare nowadays, aren't they?"

"They take a bit of finding, but once you get your eye in, as the birdwatchers say, they can be found. I suppose I'm looking for potential habitats whenever I go out in the countryside, once I spot one I look for any signs, and off you go. It's almost an obsession these days. But they are increasingly rare, like so many things.

I belong to a probus group, would you come and talk to us about dormice or wildlife in general?

"I don't know, it's about time as much as anything, when do you meet?"

"Usually on a thursday evening."

"Get me some dates and I'll see what I can do, but I won't promise anything."

"Does your dad know you're engaged?"

"How did you know that?"

"Like you with your dormice, I spot the signs."

"What signs?"

"Well they're very subtle, a mood thing, a twinkle in the eye, a difference in posture."

"You're winding me up," I grinned.

"No, I'm not it's all there for the trained eye, oh that and you're wearing a ring."

I laughed and so did she, "It's my mother's - so there."

"But you are aren't you?"

"Yeah, haven't had time to get the ring yet, and he's injured, so it's going to have to wait."

"Congratulations."

"Thanks."

"Have you told your dad?"

"No, not yet."

"Why not, shouldn't he be told, he is your next of kin."

"I'm concerned he may see it as a way of avoiding him, long term."

"What, abandonment?"

"Yes, I don't intend to and I have made it a condition of marriage that we try and integrate him into our lives. But I'm a scientist not a miracle worker and it might not happen for all sorts of reasons."

"I can see that, he could also live another twenty years, he's not sixty yet."

"You see my dilemma."

"I do. Oh well, have a safe ride home."

"Thanks."

I remember reading some stories of a transgendered kid called Gaby or Drew, who liked to think on his or her bike, and when she had a problem, she went for a ride to resolve it. Well, the rest of the stories were, shall we say you had to suspend belief, to allow to happen, but they were good fun. It was all fiction obviously, but the bit about riding a bike to think, absolutely true. It worked for me each time.

By the time I got home, and had showered and changed again, I was washing myself away, the bread was done and the washing was dry. I dressed smart casual, long cord skirt and thin jumper with my fur trimmed hooded jacket. Some make up and I finished the French stick with the remains of the soup for my meal. I made Daddy a ham sandwich and wrapped it up. I was just putting the last of the dishes away when the phone rang.

"Hi babe, you're gonna love the pic in the local rag, I've ordered you a copy."

"Oh hell, I'd forgotten all about it, thanks for spoiling my day.I was just about to leave to tell Daddy about our engagement."

I paused trying to remember how many they took. "Which one did they use?"

"I'll take a copy with my mobile and send it on."

"Will I actually be able to see anything?"

"Doubt it,"

"Can you get Stella to take a digital photo and email me?"

"Yeah, good thinking, I can see why you're a scientist."

"Can you, oh well you can explain it to me later, because I'm blowed if I know why."

"You love small furry things."

"Not all of them, rats do very little for me at all."

"They got a bad press, that's all."

"If you say so, I'll call you when I've seen the email."

"Okay, byeeeeeeee."

That was all I needed. I catastrophised as usual, thinking all it needs is someone to write into our local paper and.... I tried not to even think about it in case it became manifest. Oh bugger!

I drove to see Dad and took him his sandwich. He managed about two thirds of it, so I let him off the rest.

"I have something to tell you." I had difficulty holding his gaze. "Simon has asked me to marry him and I said, yes."

I could see the conflict immediately, the desire to congratulate me and the worry about himself. I waited for him to say something, but he seemed to drift in his thoughts.

"It's going to be a long engagement, I want to finish my degree first. I also told him I needed to resolve your situation as well. For all our differences, you are still part of my life. I don't want that to change, unless you do. I still hope and pray that you will one day become more independent, but I'm not holding my breath. I'm sorry that Mummy isn't here to help me plan a wedding one day, but I dreamt of her the other day and she seemed content with things, she showed me this necklace and earrings, as if she wanted me to wear them, so I will. It will feel as if part of her is there with me."

He nodded.

"When Simon is better, remember he was shot by those idiot poachers, I'll bring him up to see you again. Remember you got on well last time." I saw him looking at the ring, "Nah, this is Mum's ring, we haven't had a chance to look for one yet, maybe at the weekend, when I go back down to babysit."

He gave me a questioning look, "I mean look after Simon, like all men he's a big baby, but he likes my cooking."

"Voos ood gook."

"I'm a good cook?" I asked and he nodded. "Thanks Daddy, but I'm nothing special in the cookery department. But I'm better than Simon, so he thinks I'm good, and I suppose you like my food too."

He nodded and rubbed his belly, "Mmm mmm."

"Yum yum?" I asked.

"Ess," he said nodding.

"Any more physio or speech therapy?"

"Ess, is ee o, moggo."

"Physio, tomorrow?"

"Ess."

"Okay, I'll call by lunchtme, if I have time to make you some soup. I have to go to Bristol Uni to see a man about a dog - fox."

He laughed, "O- ay."

I kissed him and drove back. Then after switching on the lap top, I went to make some tea while it warmed up. The picture was of the whole group with me in the middle, the rest towering over me, despite my heels, even Dr Smythe was taller.

There was short story with it.

'Portsmouth University's zoology department today became the leader in a massive project funded by the EU and British governments, plus some investment from the private sector, to see what damage global warming is having on the wildlife in this country.

The project leader is Professor Tom Agnew, who said that mapping and distribution was essential to understanding the expansion or decline of species. With larger species it was easier to get some sort of estimate, but with small, nocturnal or rare species it was much more difficult, such as for species like dormice, which were under threat from habitat destruction by farming, development and other human activities.

He was pleased to say that his team included Cathy Watts, a leading expert on dormice, who would also be coordinating the survey of rodents. Cathy showed the government team around the dormouse breeding project, which she also runs, with her assistant 'Spike' who posed with her boss for the camera.

Prof Agnew, explained that this was the biggest survey of its sort attempted and is the leading wildlife project in Europe. It is due to last at least three years, by which time Spike will be a grandmother several times over.

They will be looking for volunteers at some point in the spring. Contact them on www.wildlifesurvey/ports .....'

I phoned him. "I suppose it could have been worse."

"Well if they do one in three years time, you might well be Lady Catherine and Princess Spike."

"Oh don't, I don't think I can cope tonight," I yawned.

"Well that'll teach ya to go looking for the teddybear's picnic."

"Yeah, I think you may be right, except we found it, didn't I tell you, that's why we were late back, stopped for drinky-poos with the teddies."

"Damn, I knew there was something you were holding back on."

"Yeah, had a roll in the grass with a two foot teddy."

"I didn't think teddies had, you know whats," he said.

"They don't."

"Oh, so what was the point of rolling in the grass with a teddy bear."

"Na, this wasn't a teddybear, it was a teddy boy and the two foot didn't relate to his height or his bike chain.... I have to go to bed now, night." I switched off the phone and left him up in the air. I'm sure he knows I wouldn't cheat on him anyway, not that I could, but it doesn't do him any harm to be teased occasionally.

'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

Your comments are special, they make the story look longer and then Erin doesn't shout at me for writing short ones, and I don't cry and Bonzi doesn't get wet while sitting on my lap, and I know you don't believe a word of it, do you?

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 144

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Fiction

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Other Keywords: 

  • gross
  • grocer
  • grossest ;) dodecaphiles.

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

Life is sometimes difficult to bear.... see why.

Easy As Falling Down the Stairs.
by: usual suspect.
part: (12+12+12+12+12+12+12+12+12+12+12+12) Gross innit?

I awoke just before John Humphrys began to dissect the leader of the opposition on the radio. Normally I would stop and listen for such an interview to finish, it was about the only bloodsport to which I would subscribe, the culling of politicians.

Instead I was in the shower before Humphrys had drawn much of Dave the Chamaeleon's blood, getting myself tidied up to go and talk to Bristol Uni. I had to liaise with their rodent people and also get agreement to use their facilities when I needed them, like library real and online, although Portsmouth had a reasonable one Bristol was an older possibly more prestigious establishment. Even one of Tony Blair's sons went there.

I dressed in my pinstripe suit, well I might as well get some use out of it before it dated or the moths had it (it's viscose ha ha), together with a black lacy, long sleeved top. I wore my heels with black stay up stockings. I then quickly made some sandwiches for my father, and put in a new lot of breadmix.

I'd just finished my makeup and was combing my hair when the door bell rang. It was not quite nine o'clock. Who the hell was that, the postman?

I scrambled down the stairs in my heels and opened the door. It was a delivery from one of those courier vans, you know, white variety knock cyclists off their bikes, cut up motorists - I'm not being stereotypical here am I? Diddums!

"Lady Catherine Stane something or other?"

"Stain remover, yes that's me." I was going to kill Simon one of these days! I know I'll build my own guillotine!

"Sign here please." He handed me somesort of handheld device and a stylus. I signed it Minnie Mouse. He handed me a package.

Despite the fact I should be getting my little blue girlymobile out of the garage, I was curious about what was in the package. It could only be from Simon.

I took it into the kitchen and slit the packing tape on the box with the kitchen scissors. Opening it, inside I found a large Paddington bear, it was easily two foot tall. There was a note with it - 'Next time you go for a roll in the grass with a two foot teddy, take me! Love Paddington xxx.'

I nearly fell over laughing, and decided he could come out in the car with me. The traffic was abysmal and the parking at the university, worse. Thank goodness I hadn't taken the larger car, I'd never have managed to get it in. As it was I had an hour, that was all.

I rushed in and was guided to the people I needed to see. I advised them I was on limited parking, so the coffee and preliminaries were dispensed with and we got down to the nitty gritty.

I wanted someone to take on board some of the other mammal groups, and finally managed to get them to agree to collate the Sciuridae, that's squirrels to the uninitiated, he finally agreed. Maybe I should go for the cleavage next time, I mean showing mine, it seems to make men more amenable, although I was desperately trying to avoid sexual cliches. You know, pretty woman =low intelligence = bimbo. Rubbish, tell that to Condominium Rice or whatever she's called, you know the US secretary of state, or Meryl Streep, even good ol' Hillary with two LLs, its the name of a semester at Oxford, but Bill would know that, remember in his smoking but not inhaling days, or was that Monica?

Anyway, my femme fatale managed to get what I wanted, but I suspect he might have been gay or something, he was just so into Sciurus vulgaris, and he simply hated S. carolinensus. Okay, so I had to agree that red squiggles are cuter then grey imports. But did he have to quote me the history of their introduction?

I managed to sort out the matter of access to their facilities, Agnew had written to someone there I only had to pop in and get a visitor's card, so that was done. I dashed out to the car, to find Paddington involved in a life and death struggle with a traffic warden, beating her to death with a marmalade sandwich. Actually I was lying, although you nearly believed me, admit it. He was merely chatting her up and about to flash her by opening his duffle coat. He looked so disconsolate when I pointed out he didn't have any dangly bits, although I did offer to sell him mine. At the rate they were shrinking, they'd probably be about the right size too.

I drove from the university and did a trip to Asda, to the hypermarket at Cribbs Causeway. It's a very large store with a big food shop and equally large household shop. I topped up on all the things we needed and loads of things we didn't. But I did get a new printer cartridge and copier paper there. I also bought a pair of shoes for a tenner, and a plain black top.

Then it was off to the hospital and travels with my father. He was with the physio when I got there and when he wanted or she demanded, he could walk with a zimmer frame. Mind you I think the whip sort of encouraged him.

I waited for a half an hour while he had a snooze, he was always tired after the physio-terrorists had been to see him. I chatted with the ward sister and she was suggesting dates for my proposed talk to her probus group. I looked so efficient writing it in my diary, of course academic ones run from september to august, so I had mine already and wouldn't have to get a new one from january. I'd have to borrow a digital projector from the uni and do a powerpoint thingy with my pretty slides. Should send 'em all to sleep, crikey, I hope it doesn't send me to sleep, that would be embarrassing. I projected the scenario: 'And this is, (yawn) the great furry thing also called the (yawn) oujamaflip, zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!' That woke me up! Well I laughed out loud, I'm sure they all think I'm totally doolally.

I fed my father his sandwich, he was half a sleep so he ate it before he came to. I then had to explain why it wasn't soup. I told him that I was going to do cottage pie for my tea. I'd bring him some in which he had to eat, or else! He laughed and shook his head.

If you promise to behave and eat your dinner when I bring it in, I'll take you out this afternoon.

"Go oo vub?" he almost shouted.

"Go to the pub?"

"Ess," he sparkled.

"I don't know about that, I was just going to push you around the hospital grounds as it's such a nice day."

His face fell. He looked at me imploringly and said, "Eeze, go oo vub, eeze."

How could I refuse? Maybe it's just as well I can't have children, they'd have me wrapped around their little fingers by the time they were a week old! Maybe I'll get a kitten or something soft and cuddly, except that kittens grow into cats, and they'd be running me ragged too. Dogs have masters, cats have servants, yeah I can believe it.

He agreed to get in the car, so I drove up to the access point for the ward and managed to get him into it. "Ice gar, is it voor?"

"Nice car, is it for?" I asked not making out the last word.

"Voor," he said pointing at me.

I began to wonder if he could speak Dutch, because I couldn't, the only world I knew was 'drol' or 'drole', which means a turd. It's amazing what you can learn in school, we had a kid whose dad was Dutch.

"My car?" I suddenly got what he was saying.

"Ess, voor gar."

"Yes, it's my car. Simon got it for me at a knockdown price. Apparently, cars which are written off and welded together from half a dozen others, are really quite reasonable."

"Vot, dane-jus."

"I'm only joking Daddy, I may be a dumb blonde, but I'm not a stupid one. It's actually pristine for its age."

I drove him to the same pub we went to before, only this time I didn't have any alcohol, just a St Clements, and Daddy had a half of Shrew's Scrotum, or something similar. A friend once brought me a bottle of wine with a label saying, 'The Dog's Bollocks'. So who was I to criticise the names of local brews.

He enjoyed himself, which was what I wanted and he was practically asleep in the car when I manhandled him back into the wheelchair. That woke him up but not for long. I left a bottle of Johnny Walker in his bedside cupboard, special offer in Asda.

The beef mince was simmering nicely and the potatoes were boiled and waiting for me to mash and cream them, by adding butter and milk and a little salt and pepper. I cheat, I use low fat spread, but it tastes okay.

After thickening up the gravy, in the mince and onion mix, I poured them into an ovenproof dish and spread the spud on top, then browned it under the grill.

I divided it into two, put one in the freezer when it was cool and plated up the other half, with some cooked mixed veg. This I packed for my dad. I had a jacket potato with tuna and a green salad. I love tuna, well I wouldn't want to marry one, I prefer Simon, but you get my drift.

Back at the hospital, I nuked his cottage pie in the microwave. He ate it much to the astonishment of the nurses, and he rubbed his tum afterwards, then winked at me, before burping. We both fell about at that, because he wouldn't do it at home, he was far too anal!

I stayed for another half an hour and he was getting so tired, he was nodding in front of me. I kissed him and left, pointing out the Scotch in his locker to the staff nurse, 'for purposes of bribery and corruption'.

She laughed and nodded. "You know, he is so much more cooperative and outgoing when he knows you are coming."

"Only because he hopes I'll take him up the pub."

"I don't know, he was on about your bike yesterday."

"You weren't on yesterday?"

"No, day off."

"I came in on my race bike complete with racing skins."

"Sister let you bring the bike in?"

"Yes, he hadn't seen it before and I wanted to show it to him."

"Crikey, she must have been in a good mood."

"I did point out it was worth four thousand quid."

"What! You're jokin'?"

"Actually, the latest model, is nearly four thousand seven hundred."

"What are they made of gold leaf?"

"No, too soft, carbon fibre. The other dear ones are titanium. Litespeed an American company I think, do a titanium frame which is three grand."

"Well how come Halford's can do one for ninety quid then?"

"Which would you rather ride, a ninety quid clunker from Halfords or a carbon fibre thoroughbred? I know which I'd rather have."

"Yeah but you know what your doin', I'd rather catch the bus." She cackled and I left. How can any able bodied person not want to ride a top class bike? Cor, there were some strange people about.

I drove home and called Simon. "I have an ugly natured Peruvian, illegal immigrant, who is threatening me with a marmalade sandwich. He tells me it's loaded and cocked."

"What does he want?"

"I don't know, I can't speak Spanish."

"How do you know about the sandwich, then?"

"I saw him cock it."

"Do you need a team of negotiators?"

"Dunno, no wait a minute, he wants a new pot of marmalade, thick cut peel, Seville oranges, peptin, sugar...."

"Hey, you're reading that off the jar!"

"Course I am, I don't know what's in marmalade, I don't like it."

"Don't you?"

"No, I prefer jam, so if he stays here, he'll have to adapt, I'm not putting myself out for an illegal immigrant."

"You'd better send him back then, at least we eat marmalade here, Keiller don't ya know."

"He's shaking his head, says you'll make him do cheap labour with a gang master."

"How did he know that?"

"Hang on, he said Winnie the Pooh told him."

"Anybody listening to this conversation would think we were completely barmy."

"We are, I caught it off Stella."

"Yeah, so did I."

"When are you coming to babysit?"

"Tomorrow morning, after I pop into see Dad."

"How is he?"

"Happy, I took him up the pub lunchtime."

"Miss you," Simon said to me.

"Only because you're not working, making millions for the bank.

"But I am, I'm using a phone and internet, made them two million this afternoon."

"Just like that?"

"Slightly more complicated than that, but essentially, yeah, just like that."

I shook my head in disbelief.

"Talk to me," he said.

"Sorry I was shaking my head."

"Fraid I missed that bit, watch you don't get sawdust on your neck."

"Did I tell you I'd ordered a guillotine?"

"What for cutting paper?"

"No a full sized one, oh and they're waiting on a new delivery of tumbrels."

"Socialist dormouse!" he hissed down the phone.

"Capitalist turkey," I spat back.

"See you tomorrow then, love you."

"Yeah okay, love you too."

12.12.12.12.12.12.12.12.12.12.12.12.12.12.12.12.12.12.12.12.12.12.12.

Don't forget to comment. No aristocrats were actually injured in the production of this episode, although one or two were consulted, sorry, insulted. 8)

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 145

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Fiction

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Other Keywords: 

  • At last something's happening!

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

EAFOAB
by:AaG
part:OFF.

It was saturday morning already, boy doesn't time fly when you're enjoying yourself? I looked at my bleary eyes in the mirror, poked out my tongue, then returned it to my mouth, I needed a cup of tea before seeing things like that!

Into the shower, perhaps I was washing too much. Nah, cleanliness is next to Godliness - so when does God get to take a shower, and where? I knew that goddesses did, well okay, one goddess - Aphrodite, cause I've been to her bathroom. I mean I've visited her bathroom. Damn, it all sounds as if I used her bathroom, I haven't but I have been there. It's on Cyprus, a relatively dry island in the Mediterranean, and the spring which is attributed by legend as her bath, apparently never dries up. There is supposedly a huge eel which lives there too, but I didn't see him when I was there, perhaps he went to the bathroom?

Damn, the time was getting on. I towelled my hair, combed it to remove the knots, squealing each time I did, well it hurts. Okay, I'm a wimp, but I admitted that ages ago, I am allowed to be, I'm a girl.

I dressed in a skirt and top, I like to look smart when I see my dad and the skirt reminds him I'm his daughter, just in case the boobs, makeup, long hair and nice smell don't. Can't be too careful.

I chopped up some veg added a little of the mince I kept back from the cottage pie and put it on to cook, then emptied the bread machine, the loaf smelt good enough to eat, which was just as well I suppose, because that was what I was going to do with it.

I made myself a banana sandwich, goodness, I haven't had one of these since - ooh, erm last week. So, I like black sandwiches, what's it got to do with you, I'm not making you eat them? Hey isn't abanana or something one of the rivals to Hillary with two 'LLs'. See I keep myself up to date on what is happening in the colonies. Ha bloody George the third, "Good night Mrs King," God I love that film, even so the moron lost us the Americas, that and the French! Fancy blockading us, we should have complained to the United Nations, next time someone from the EU comes to the uni, I shall complain - well better late than never.

I mean how could a bunch of ragamuffins beat one of the best armies in Europe? I mean, they lost to a better organised group of ragamuffins in Vietnam. See science is based on logic, women are just so much more logical than men think we are. I mean matching nails and lipgloss, what could be simpler? Not wearing stripes with a swirly pattern next to them, easy eh? So how come my professor comes in wearing a swirly patterned tie with a striped shirt, in colours that clashed? I am sure he is colour blind, not just red-green, but all colours. Hey maybe that's what it is, he sees everything in black and white or grey or something. Hmmm, see that's logic, so how come I'm not sure about it? Perhaps he doesn't see it at all, not switched into colours and patterns? I shall have to ask Mary, she'll know, although I have heard her groan when he walked in. I didn't think it was a spontaneous orgasm. Okay, I did once, but then realised he was wearing purple checked trousers with pink socks and Jesus sandals. None of it was helped by his red and white striped shirt. If he cycled, I could understand it, but he doesn't, he has his ancient Landrover and his Barbour jacket.

I did a quick make up, and dried my hair. The veg and small amount of meat were cooked, so into the blender and instant soup. I checked it for taste, it was okay. I poured it into the flask. Theoretically, there was enough for two meals. I also cut a round of bread and popped it into a plastic sandwich bag. Then cut two more rounds and made a chicken sandwich for his tea. That went into a bag too.

I ran upstairs and packed a few things, you know tennis dress, ball gown, wedding dress and bikini. I'm lying again, I left out the bikini. Packed up my dad's car again, and went off to the hospital.

I had a big sign inside the car which said 'DIESEL', just in case my scientific logic distracted me and I put petrol in it. I nearly did, thank goodness, there was a little slopping out when I took the cap off the tank. It felt greasy and thick and of course smells rather strongly. Oh shoot, and I was just about to fill up with petrol.

I'm sure everyone in the filling station forecourt could see my mistake, if I'd felt any smaller, I could have walked under the car to hide. I switched hoses and put a tankful of diesel in, wow, how much? Geez, I only want to pay for my fuel not buy the garage! No wonder Tesco have profits in the billions, most of it is mine!

At the hospital, I parked in a doctor's space and zipped into the ward and dropped off my Red Cross parcel for Daddy. I kissed him told him what he had to eat, and that there was enough soup for the next day too, plus the rest of the loaf. Then promising I'd be back on thursday, I trotted off just before the clamper could get a Denver boot on my car.

He made threatening noises, and I pulled out a hammer from my dad's car.

"You had better not be threatening me with that," he said nervously.

"I am not threatening you in anyway. I will however promise if you put that thing on my car, you'll be stuck here for the rest of the day as well."

"So you're going to smash my windscreen are you?"

"No, nothing so violent."

"So what ya gonna do?"

"Remove four valves from your tyres."

"You wouldn't dare?"

"Try me!" I said and my eyes bored straight through his and into the small area of his skull which was populated with braincells.

"You'll get prosecuted."

"You'll get sacked."

He stood and glared at me and I stepped closer to his van. He glared some more and I took a swing at his wheel.

"NO!" he shouted.

"No what?" I asked pausing in mid-swing.

"Just get the fuck out of here, quick!"

"I just knew we could settle this amicably," I smiled at him then jumped in the car and shot off with a squealing of tyres. Phew that was close!

The hammer rattled on the floor beside me, Paddington had slipped slightly off the upright and seemed to be shaking with laughter. I know it was the vibration of the car, but it seemed exactly what I needed to break the tension, and I laughed too.

Thankfully the remainder of the journey was non-eventful and I made very good time. The incident reminded me that I hadn't paid for the parking fine from last week, which was thirty quid - robbery, and that was the reduced fee, pay in fourteen days or it gets doubled. I still felt cross about that, which might have been what caused me to stand up to the clamper, total parasite, yuck!

Paddington was still shaking with laughter, and at the next set of traffic lights, I stood him up and put the seat belt around him. The man in the lorry next to me was watching and laughing. I didn't care, I was responsible for Paddington's well being, apart from the supply of marmalade, and Simon had promised that. I take my parental responsibilities seriously.

Talking of which, hell! It was my turn to go in and feed the dormice. Oh bugger, I nearly forgot, and again on Christmas and Boxing day. The burden of authority, as project leader I didn't ask anyone to do anything I wouldn't do myself. We each did it one weekend in eight.

It was easy enough, just make sure they have nuts and fruit, clean out the mess, we have special pull out drawers for that like a poo sump. Check the water bottles and give Spike a quick cuddle, then off. Max one hour, except it takes me that long to get to and fro the uni from Simon's. So that is two hours. Bugger!

I drove straight to the uni and did the biz, cutting short my cuddle with Spike, she doesn't mind, just goes back to sleep after eating a nut or two.

Driving like Hakkinnen was trying to pass me, I got to Simon's at half twelve, not bad at all.

"Where's Stella?" I asked carrying my bag into the house.

"I told her she could have the rest of the day off."

"Generous of you?" I sidled up to him and kissed him.

"Well that's me all over, generous to a fault."

"So I'd heard." I kissed him again, sucking his bottom lip. His trousers began to bulge and I giggled. I touched the bulge and ran off, giggling.

"Cock tease!" he shouted after me.

I made a quick lunch, tuna jacket potatoes, I know I eat too much of it, I have so much mercury in me, that when I get warm I grow! Okay, so don't believe me.

"So what is it we have to do?" I asked washing up the plates. "Do I need to change?" I was wearing the red and black skirt that Stella had given me that first day she tried to kill me, with the new black top I'd bought in Asda.

"No, you look absolutely delicious, I suppose I could cancel my meeting and we could make love all afternoon."

"Sorry, can't."

"Why not?" he pleaded with his eyes.

"I'm on."

"You're what?"

"I'm on.... to you, I know what you're after mister. I'm not just a nursemaid, I'm well edjumucated!" I stood with my hands on my hips and rocked my hips once again. Simon stood and laughed so hard he had to grab a chair to steady himself.

"You get more like that loony sister of mine everyday," he said when he caught his breath.

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"I, erm, I'm not sure I offered it as one," his eyes sparkled as he spoke. "Damn, but I feel better when you're here. Come on chauffeuse, help me get my coat on.

"Where to Sir?" I asked when I'd started the engine.

"Towards the town centre, I'll tell you where to go from there."

We ended up in a small side street near Gun Wharf Quay. "In there."
I looked over to a non-descript shop which looked like an arty-farty place, there were original paintings in the window together with various objet d'art. I held the door for Simon, feeling odd about the role reversal. I'd got used to him doing it for me.

"Hi Simon, how ya doin' mate?" A tall thin man wearing a tee shirt and patchwork trousers walked over and shook hands vigorously with my fiance. It still feels a novelty to think that, but it's a nice one and I get a warm feeling each time I think it.

"So this is Cathy?" said the stranger.

"Yes, Cathy, I'd like you to meet Tim Collins, with whom I was at Millfield."

"Pleased to meet you," I said proffering my hand.

He took it and pulled me into a hug, "Not half as much as I am to meet you, young lady. If he doesn't treat you right, gimme a shout, I'll be straight over."

"What to sort me out?" asked Simon jocularly.

"No ya silly sod, to take her away with me."

"I'd like to get to know you better first," I said blushing.

"Oh I think that could be arranged." He looked at me for a moment, then said, "You're not really going to marry this dickhead are you?"

"I have to now, if only I'd met you first," I pouted.

"Elope with me now, while he can't run after us - hey, Si, they didn't shoot off any erm moving parts did they?" he winked.

"No they bloody well didn't, everything is in working order, so just watch it, find your own girl."

"Girl!" He looked at me and I blushed dreading he'd just seen right through me, he knew I was a boy, maybe he was gay? "Girl, this is no girl!" I knew it, his gaydar was on and working, I went very hot and got very bothered. "This is a goddess, a beauty so rare and delicate, her skin like the petal of a spring rose, her hair like corn - except the pink bits - her eyes like emeralds, so what the fuck is she doing with a dickhead like you?"

At this point my tension was so great that when the punchline came, I giggled hystericaly, the tears running down my face. "Is there a loo I can use?" I asked a hint of urgency in my voice.

As I walked back from the toilet, Simon and Tim were stood with something between them. "So that's it then?" said Simon.

"Yep, okay?"

"This is the real McCoy."

"Ninety per cent pure."

I froze, they sounded as if they were talking about drugs, cocaine or something. Shit, was I marrying a drug abuser? My stomach flipped and I felt quite sick. Surely not, please God. I coughed, and Tim turned around as if he was a bit guilty, hiding something with his hand.

I smiled pretending I hadn't heard any of the conversation, walking towards them trying to make light of things, "I knew I shouldn't have had that extra cup of tea."

"Good job it's me she's marrying, can't hold her drink," Simon said and they both chuckled.

"Makes two of you then," said Tim as Simon blushed.

Simon held out his hand to me and I walked quickly to him and he pulled me to his side, his arm around my waist in a proprietorial way.

"Go on then show her," urged Simon.

"It's okay darling, I don't need to see it. Shall we go we have some shopping to do?" I said nervously.

"It's alright you know, just don't make a habit of it." He said, and I knew they were going to show me some drugs, I'll bet the joss sticks were burning to hide the smell of cannabis.

"I'd like her to make a habit of it, more money for me, and you can afford it you jammy sod."

"I don't do drugs," I said trying to pull away from Simon.

"What!" they both said in unified shock.

"Well, that's what you're talking about isn't it?"

"Show her Tim," said Simon grinning.

Tim, with a smirk, the size of a battle cruiser, pulled something from behind him. It was a small padded box, which he proceeded to open.

"Oh! I gasped and swooned.

Tim caught me and led me over to a chair. He then got me a glass of water. I felt so stupid, how could I have doubted Simon? Was I really worthy of his love?

He was perched on a stool, looking concerned at me, "Feel better?"

"Yes thank you," I pulled off my coat,"I just got so hot. Sorry about that." I looked at Simon's tender eyes and then at Tim and began to cry.

"Hey, what's the matter?" said Simon grasping my hand and squeezing it.

"I'm sorry, I've made such a fool of myself, I overheard your secrecy and thought you were buying drugs or something. I am sorry," and sobbed. "I suppose you don't want me to marry you now, trust and so on."

There was a short pause before he said, "I'm afraid after that I have to withdraw my offer, you leave me no choice."

"I understand," I sobbed, my heart now totally broken. Tim handed me a tissue.

"You okay?" Tim asked when the tears started to dry up.

"No, but I'll live," I said with a wavering voice.

Then Simon seemed to fall down and I gasped and tried to get up to help him. But he pushed my hand away, "I'm alright." He struggled to get his one leg up from a kneeling position. Then grabbing my left hand he said, "Catherine Watts, will you marry me?" slipping the ring on my finger as he spoke.

My heart stopped, or felt like it did. What had he just said and done? He was kneeling in front of me, and had proposed....but I thought that was all over. Oh my God.

"But....I....but...you? Yes, yes of course I'll marry you." I threw my arms around him and held him tightly. "I love you Simon Cameron."

"Oh shit! Here Tim, gi's a hand up." He was so romantic.

"This ring is so beautiful, I absolutely love it." I said, unable to believe the beauty of the jewellery upon my finger. "How did you know my size?"

"Ah that was Stella, when you took your mother's ring off to shower, she did an impression in some plasticine."

I shook my head in amazement, it was like a dream.

"I asked Tim if he'd design something for me with sapphires and diamonds. I knew you liked sapphires and I believe it's also a birthstone for Sagittarians."

"Depends upon the reference source, but blue stones seem to be. Certainly turquoise is."

"Not for an engagement ring, surely?" said Tim almost with disdain.

"No, I didn't mean it like that. I'm sorry, it's all been something of a shock. But a lovely one," I added quickly.

"Tim is one of the leading goldsmiths and jewellery designer in Europe, I was lucky he was going to be here for a few days."

"So this isn't your shop then?" I asked.

"God no, it's my sister's. I have a place in Bond Street, above one of the big jewellery shops. I also have a place in the Hague, which is where I am most of the time.

"How did you know I liked sapphires, Simon?"

"You wear that necklace a lot, I got a photo of it when you were cooking and sent it to Tim, he used it to base his design on it."

"It's my mum's or was, so it's special to me."

"I know, and it's a beautiful necklace and earrings."

"It is lovely," said Tim, "so I was delighted to work from it. Never let anything happen to it, it's a beautiful piece of work."

The only time I was more conscious of my hands was the first time I wore nail varnish, and I primped about the house while my parents were out. It was my mother's and a bright red colour. I used half a can of air freshener getting rid of the smell of it and the subsequent remover. But I spent an hour doing things around the house looking at my fingers.

I thanked Tim and pecked his cheek as we left. He seemed really quite nice once I'd got my facts right. How could I have been so stupid?

We drove back to the cottage, Simon had upset his knee and was limping quite badly and I felt exhausted and almost in a trance. Rather than drive, all I wanted to do was sleep with Simon cuddled around me, his arm around my waist, maybe gently stroking my breast and....

"Watch out!" shouted Simon, and I slammed on the brakes, an old lady had wandered out on a zebra crossing. I felt myself go red and a tear formed in my eyes.

He touched my leg and squeezed it, a bit like that driving instructor I had, only this was nice. I got us home in one piece and collapsed in a chair. Simon phoned for a take away - thank God it was Chinese, I hate pizza.

After we cleaned up, and I made up a new breadmix, we went and cuddled together on the sofa, and I fell asleep, feeling like I'd won the lottery, only better.

The next morning after turning out the bread, which Simon pigged out on, I told him I had to go and sort out the dormice cages. He was slightly miffed, but understood. I invited him to come with me, but he declined, his knee was still sore and swollen. I promised that I would get a joint of meat on the way home and do him a traditional roast dinner with all the trimmings. His eyes lit up immediately and he nodded.

I set off for the university. I have key codes for access when it's closed. Yesterday, there had been one or two students about, sunday mornings, it is like a grave.

I let myself into the laboratory area and began cleaning the cages and replenishing the food stocks for the dormice. I stopped and held my breath and listened. I shook my head, it was probably one of the rats in another room, running on his wheel. They are worse than hamsters and they seem to have a cadence as fast as Brad Wiggins.

There was no sound, just a fridge coming on. I was letting my imagination run away with itself, just like I did yesterday at the shop, I admired my ring as it sparkled in the daylight outside the cages. It was really beautiful, I wasn't I was in jeans and a sweater although they did show my body was changing for the better, the results of the hormones.

I had just cuddled Spike and showed her my ring, put her back and closed the cage, when I definitely heard something. It was neither a fridge nor a caged animal. I felt the hair on the back of my neck stand up and I wished Simon were with me. If only he hadn't done that stupid gesture of kneeling, he could have come with me. I felt afraid.

I picked up my mobile and was about to dial Simon, when the noise got closer ....

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Oh dear I ran out of time, never mind, leave some comments and I might just find some tomorrow.... perhaps! Hee hee(sounds of demonic laughter - oh it's Bonzi.)

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 146

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Fiction

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Other Keywords: 

  • At last something happens
  • so they tell me.

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

Is cleaning cages a dangerous occupation, it seems likely that Cathy could find stamp collecting dangerous....see what I mean?

Easy As Falling Off A Bike.
by Angharad.
part:146.

I held my mobile clicking off the lock on the keypad, then switched off the ringtone, opting for vibration only. I slipped it into the pocket of my skirt.

I closed the cage I was working on as quietly as I could, and walked around the cages, which are quite large, towards the source of the noise.

"Ah there you are," Mary Miller came walking into the department with a mug of coffee.

To say I sighed with relief was an understatement. "Phew, Mary you frightened the life out of me."

"Sorry about that, Cathy, I knew from the rota it was your weekend to do the cages, so I thought I'd bring you a coffee."

"That's very kind of you. You don't come down here very often, do you?"

"No, I'm usually too busy with grumpy's typing to get around very much. In fact I'm behind at the moment, that's why I'm in today, while it's quiet. Well drink your coffee before it gets cold."

I took a sip of the dark fluid, it was actually much too strong for my taste and I had visions of twitching later on, I do when I have too much coffee, my legs get twitchy. Ugh, it was horrible, but with her watching, I had to drink it.

"Thanks, I'll just wash the mug."

"It's okay, I have to do mine, see you later."

"Yes okay, thanks." I went back to my chores and was glad that they were almost finished. The last cage done and dusted, I sat down, I felt really strange. I was dizzy and confused, not even sure how to get out of the room let alone back to my car. Did I have a car? I couldn't remember.

"Hello Cathy, remember me?"

I looked at the woman, she was familiar, but what was her name, Mary? I felt myself almost falling off the chair. I somehow managed to press a button on my phone when the vibration started, but it all get's hazy after that.

"Come with me, Catherine," she lifted me off the seat, "don't be alarmed, it was just a little rohypnol I put in your coffee, so you won't remember who it was who modified you. Ha ha, well I think it's funny, but then I'm not in your predicament am I?"

I felt someone pulling me and then making me lie down on something hard. "Before I start to modify you, I'll tell you why I'm doing it. You see, essentially, I'm jealous. Yes jealous of you, with your designer clothes and youth, yes bloody youth.

I've spent fifteen years slaving for that man, doing his letters and his typing, keeping his diary, making his coffee. He doesn't even notice me unless I'm off, when he has to get off his big fat arse and do things for himself.

But then I love him, I do, I actually love the tiresome old prig, but he doesn't notice me, not one bit, not one fucking bit.

When you first came here, I recall you had a good rapport with everyone, we all liked Charlie, nice boy a bit of a pansy, but we all liked you. The Prof liked you too, he could see potential in you and he wanted the university to develop it. I thought it was a good idea too.

You rewarded his interest in you, by doing one of the best surveys and dissertations he'd ever seen, he was ecstatic with your initial draft because he knew he could use it in his government report. Your potential was being achieved.

Then you had a long chat with him one day after you were off for a couple of weeks with so called, food poisoning. You were in a loony bin, weren't you, tried to kill yourself after your father called you a fucking poof and beat you up! Well we all knew you were as queer as a four pound note, my little pansy, we all knew it was common knowledge. Never seen with a girl, so we all knew.

Then there was the phone call to Dr Thomas. Oh yes, I listened in on that, just in case there was anything going on between my Tom and that shrink woman. There wasn't, but there was with you wasn't there?

He said he called her with your permission, to confirm you were transsexual, ha ha a girly poof! He asked how he could help you when and if you were to changeover, transition they call it, don't they? Ah but you can't think of anything now can you my helpless little girlyboy.

Well I was intrigued, I mean we'd had one of your sort before, not in this department, but in the computer lot, seems it's epidemic amongst geeks and nerds. Must be all those electromagnetic waves, turns their brains.

Anyway my little girlyboy, the professor was very fond of you and wanted to help. Fond of you, the bastard, what had you done for him? Sod all, whereas I slaved for him daily, I loved him, and he gets fond of you, you bloody fairy!

And then what happens, you seem to getting girlier by the week and I was sure you were growing breasts and that little bum was waggling all over the place. The only thing that was waggling more were the tongues, they were beginning to think that Tom was gay. My Tom a fucking queer like you? Bah! He's a red blooded man, unlike you. I watched him sniffing around young, nubile women. Well I could hardly compete with them could I, too long in the tooth for that.

But then he comes into the department late from a meeting, they've been looking for him all over the place and he tells me to cancel his meetings, he had an important call to make. He calls the Dean. I decide I'd better be appraised of this. So I intercept and listen, the wonders of modern technology, I can do this without the microphone on my handset being active. He didn't know, in fact he still doesn't know. Silly old fool.

It seems he's only telling the dean that he has just run into one of his students in the town wearing a dress and makeup. Well I wonder who that could be? Ha ha, it was so funny. Or it was until he said, he thought you were going to change over, and that it appeared imminent and that he thought you were quite a convincing girl, quite pretty too.

So, you were making a play for my man, were you, you disgusting creature. Then the next thing, you come bouncing in here in bloody dresses and he's taking you out to lunch at any opportunity. When does he take me out to lunch? On my birthday if he fucking remembers, that's when!

So I thought I'd warn you off, but you were too fucking stupid to get the message, weren't you? You kept coming in here with ever more sexy outfits and he was drooling over you. Do you know how it feels to be ignored by someone you love? And worse, for that love to be shown to some filthy degenerate? Do you know how that feels? No of course you don't, you're a man, no a boy, a dirty arse-bandit boy. A shirt-lifting deviant! That's what you are, masquerading as a woman, you make my flesh creep!

Then, he says you remind him of his daughter - how can a boy remind someone of their daughter? You must be turning his mind or something. He has the big meeting at his house and he invites you to be the hostess - you, how dare he? Why didn't he send for me? At least I'm a woman, and have acted as hostess many times at different functions. Oh yes, when I was younger, he'd have asked me.

Why didn't he ask one of his other staff members, we have two or three nice women here, and a lovely technician, but no, he asked you, and you spent the night there didn't you, you bitch! You slept with him didn't you? I know, I watched the house. You left at lunchtime without any knickers on, you filthy whore! I'll bet your arse was sore, you filty pervert. What had you done to him, corrupted him?

Then he wants to make you the pin-up for the survey project, you a boy, he wants to have you grinning like a jackass from posters all over the country, showing a bit of tit, which I bet is all bra and padding. There are a thousand proper women in this department of biological sciences, why does he have to pick on a fornicating fairy like you instead of one of them?

You didn't heed my warnings, so the time of retribution is at hand. I am going to modify you, so your horrible habits will bring you no more fun. I am also going to feed your genitals to the rats. Lets see them sew those back on.

Let's move your expensive skirt up, just out of the way, wouldn't want to get blood on it would you, then we pull your pretty little panties down and....ARRRGHH! You are a woman, you little trollop! You are a woman, NO NO NO! It's not fair! It isn't fair!"

"MARY! Put that knife down."

"Oh, come to save your little whore have you? You bastard, you made me think she was a boy, but she isn't, she's a girl, a woman. You lied to me."

"I didn't want you to think I was interested in anyone but you Mary, and I'm not."

"You lied to me, I'm going to carve up her pretty face and body."

"What for Mary, she's engaged to be married, to someone else."

"A likely tale, she slept with you, I saw her leave the house, without any knickers."

"She slept with Simon, her fiance. Look on her finger, she's wearing a ring."

"I'll bet you gave it to her, the whore!"

"Take a look at it Mary, take a good look and tell me if you think I could afford a ring like that."

"Yeah so, it's not real stones."

"They are Mary, she's engaged to a millionaire, she's going to become a Viscount's wife. She doesn't want me, except as a teacher and guide. I want her as a pupil to develop to eventually lead a department like this, perhaps even this one. But as for love, It's you I want Mary, so come on put the knife down."

"What about your dinner party? Why didn't you ask me? I could have been a perfect hostess, instead of that little trollop."

"I needed her there for her knowledge of the project, it was all hush hush, the under secretary was there, only members of the team or funders were invited, remember we had to switch it from Bristol at the last minute, their mammal expert was down with some bug. Cathy was the next best thing."

"And why are you using her on you posters and not one of the other students, or even a model?"

"Because the bank who are funding the campaign want her on the front, the under secretary wants her on the front, and at least she is involved in the scheme, not just some brainless bimbo from an advertising agency."

"How do I know I can believe you?"

"How about if I ask you to move in with me Mary?"

"Ha, you're lying, I know you are, you just want to save this little whore, so you can continue your affair."

"Mary, if you harm her, I shall send you away from me. I shall banish you, you'll never see me again. If you harm her, I shall hate you with all my being, is that what you want?"

"No Tom, it isn't. I want you for myself for ever."

I'm told that the police marksman made one hell of a shot, he hit her in the head as she stabbed at the professor. He got a nasty shoulder wound, but he's doing okay.

Apparently, he phoned me because he knew I was going to the university to do the cages. He didn't know I'd actually be there, but he wanted some notes he'd left on Mary's desk, he needed to modify them. He heard her talking to me, and became aware she was making threats, he called the police and rushed over to the labs.

They decided as he'd heard the conversation about her jealousy of me, he'd try and talk her down, once she was disarmed, they could take her in and get her checked over by a shrink, they thought she had paranoid delusions. Because there was a weapon involved the Hampshire Constabulary had an armed response team attend, including a marksman. He was in the nextdoor building and could see down into the lab through the window.

The Superintendent in charge issued an instruction to stop her if it looked as if the Professor or I were at risk of a wound. They saw the knife flash and he popped her.

We all attended her funeral, she was a sad and sick woman. I missed out on all the action, I still don't know why she didn't try to mutilate me, unless of course she thought she saw something that isn't there yet. If she looked carefully, she'd have seen what it was, a simulacrum. So my life might have been saved by some superglue, because I was unconscious, I suppose I'll never actually know.


Well me dears, waddya think of that then? Comments on a twenty pound note, usual address, my bank.

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 147

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Fiction

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

Cathy starts to appreciate what happened and how much she is indebted to Tom Agnew, Professor of Zoology extraordinaire. She agrees to pay back some of the debt.

Easy As Falling Off A Bike.
by: Angharad
part: 147.

The details of my attack were hazy to me, and it was only what the professor was able to tell me later that brought home to me how close I'd been to serious injury or even death. Had she found my genitals and hacked them off, I could have died from blood loss or infection.

Had Professor Agnew not responded so promptly, she could have slashed or stabbed my drugged body or face. His calling me, because he was bogged down with paperwork, saved my life. Sadly, his paperwork had to wait.

I woke up in hospital, sleeping off the effects of the drug, which is one of the benzodiazepines and designed for treating insomnia on a short term basis. I slept for a full twenty four hours, awaking to find Simon snoring in the chair alongside me.

"Where am I?" I asked completely confused by my surroundings.

"Um, what, where, erm?" said Simon, looking completely stunned.

"What am I doing in hospital?" I plucked at the hospital gown I wore.

"You don't remember?" said Simon.

"Don't remember what?"

"See I knew you wouldn't."

"Wouldn't what?"

"Remember." He grinned at me, but my mood was not influenced by it at all.

"For God's sake Simon, stop messing about and tell me what happened."

"I can't, I wasn't there. All I know is Mary apparently tried to kill you and the Professor tried to stop her and got stabbed."

"Oh no!" I shrieked, he isn't dead is he?" I felt tears running down my face.

"No, it was in the shoulder, he's in hospital, but he should be okay."

"Mary, why would she want to harm me?"

"I dunno babe, maybe she was jealous you were marrying me, I do have this affect upon women," he grinned.

"I thought your last three girlfriends took holy orders and went into a monastery."

"Monastery, don't you mean nunnery or convent?"

"No a monastery, they'd have more fun fulfilling the orders from the monks there."

"I'll bet!" He laughed, "Have I told you you're crazy?"

"Yes but agreeing to marry you has confirmed the diagnosis, it's in the DSM IV."

"What is?"

"It goes something like, 'All young women agreeing to marry a member of the peerage, want their head examined and should be sectioned immediately, as they are likely to be barking mad'."

"Absolutely, but I love you, crazy as you are." He stood up and kissed me.

"How's the knee?" I asked seeing him walking more or less normally.

"Oh it's painful," he said limping.

"You big baby," I accused.

"Ha, hark who's talking. I actually get shot and you call me names. You only nearly get stabbed and you're in bloody hospital."

"I got poisoned."

"Drugged." He corrected me.

"Poisoned, you should have seen the colour of the coffee she gave me, it was like something they dredge from the dockyard."

"So you do remember it?" he asked.

"Oh God, Spike! She didn't harm my dormice did she?"

"I don't know, I wasn't called until after it was all over."

"Where is she now?" I asked feeling a little apprehensive even though Simon was with me.

"In the mortuary."

"What?" I felt the colour drain from me, as I fell back on the bed in a faint.

I came around with a nurse patting my hand and calling my name. "What happened?"

"You fainted because I told you Mary Miller was dead."

"I didn't kill her did I?" I felt my heart rate rocket.

"As far as I know she was shot by a police marksman as she tried to kill old Agnew."

"Oh my God, how awful." I felt sick and only just managed to get the receiver in place in time. Simon turned a pale green and abruptly decamped.

I was eventually checked over by a doctor who discharged me. Once I had my clothes on, I asked Simon if we could go and see Professor Agnew. He made some enquiries and, the sister on our ward called his ward. They said I could go and see him.

Simon forgot about his limp until he saw me watching his gait, then he began to limp badly. I slapped him on the arm and he laughed and walked normally again, claiming that the pain in his arm overrode that in his leg, enabling him to walk normally. I shook my head, I was sure the whole family were mad as hatters.

Once we got to the ward, we were shown to his bed. He was asleep and looked awful, there was a blood drip attached to his arm. I pointed at the drip, "It should be Cabernet Sauvignon," I said.

"A good choice, please ask them to order it immediately," said a voice from the bed.

"Sorry Prof, did I wake you up?"

"Oh what a thought that would be?"

"What?" I asked blythely.

"Waking up to you each morning. I feel better already." He looked over at me and smiled, I blushed like a tomato.

" 'Oy watch it," growled Simon, "She's mine."

"Children please," I said, "no fighting. I am nobody's. I am a human being not some sort of possession. I am, full stop, there is no owner's name after it."

"Just ignore the feminist diatribe, I'll beat her later," said Simon.

"Good thinking, since we stopped that they've outgrown their station," agreed the professor.

"I refuse to be involved in this puerile conversation," I said pouting. Simon sniggered and the professor smirked.

"Right, how are you boss?" I asked.

"I've felt better."

"Would a kiss help?"

"Oh I'm sure it would do immeasurable good," he winked at me.

"Thank you for saving my life," I said before pecking him on the cheek.

"That's okay."

"I'm sorry you got hurt because of me, and I'm sorry that Mary was killed."

"Yes so am I. If she'd really wanted to kill me, she could have you know. This was just to pay me back for all the pain I caused her."

"Rest now," I instructed, "You can tell me about it another day, when you feel better." I squeezed his right hand, the wound being to his left shoulder.

I kissed him again, Simon shook his hand gently and muttered, "Thanks". When I looked at him oddly he said, once we were outside the ward, "I thanked him for saving the life of my future wife," he put his arm around me.

"That was nice of you."

"Well I'll send him a case of his favourite tipple when he gets home, should help kill the pain."

I had the next day off and cooked Simon and Stella the roast dinner they'd missed the day before. It went down very well. We were just basking in a post prandial glow, when the phone rang.

Stella answered it and called me, "It's your university."

I shuddered hoping nothing had happened to Prof Agnew. "Hello, Cathy Watts speaking."

"Hello Cathy, it's Dr Andrews."

"The prof is okay, isn't he?"

"As far as I know, oh I see. Yes he's okay, however the department isn't. Both the stalwarts who run it are missing, if you take my drift."

"Yes, I understand, how I can I help?"

"Well, until Tom returns, can you take over managing the survey project? You know as much as anyone else does, except the Prof. The other admin stuff, we are sorting. I've got a temp coming in tomorrow to help you with the typing, letters and so on."

"I don't know?" I felt somewhat overwhelmed at the prospect.

"Can you have a look tomorrow morning and let me know as soon as you do know? This is a priority for the Faculty, we can't lose the funding now, it's critical we keep it running until Tom comes back."

"Okay, I'll do it, I'll do it for Prof Agnew."

"Good lass, I knew you would, give me a report on it sometime mid week okay?"

"Erm, yes okay, I'll do my best."

"Thanks Cathy, oh by the way, we'll come to some sort of agreement on remuneration."

"That'll be alright, I owe him big time anyway."

"If I understand, one of the reasons this happened was lack of recognition of the lady who perished. I won't allow that to happen again, so we pay you, I'm sure it'll pay for some cycling gear, not that you're going to have much time for riding a bike for the forseeable future."

"No I suppose not," I agreed whistfully.

"What did they want?" asked Simon.

"They want me to run the project until Prof Agnew comes back."

"Whose bright idea was that?"

"The Dean."

"Want me to ring him up and say you can't?" said Simon looking cross.

"No! Sorry, no thanks, I need to do this for the prof."

"It's too much."

"I'll have some clerical help, I'm only going to do the minimum to hold it together."

"Yeah, famous last words, I said something like that in a previous job and cut my hours from fifty a week to sixty five."

"Simon, I know maths is not my strong point, but that was an increase not a cut."

"I know, but that is what I said, and what happened after it."

"Well it isn't going to happen to me."

"Bloody right it isn't!"

I gave him a Paddington hard stare, but he ignored it.

"You are staying here."

"Simon, I make my own decisions, I'm a big girl now."

"Are you? Well I'm a bigger than you and I say you stay. Please?"

"Okay, I will for a few nights, but if I need to go back to my room, I decide not you, agreed?"

"Hmm dunno."

"Okay, I shall go back tonight."

"No, agreed."

"You are my fiance Simon, not my owner, I thought we'd sorted this already. This ring," I waved my hand, "means I am not available for marriage to someone else. It doesn't make me a chattel, and if you say 'pity' or something similar, you get the jewellery back too."

"I wasn't going to say anything. I'm a great believer in the libido, I mean liberation of women."

"One of these days Simon Cameron...."

"One of these days, what, Catherine Watts?"

"You'll live longer not knowing," I said trying to sound mysterious except I didn't think it had worked.

"Oh, like that is it?" He grabbed me and pulled to his knee and holding me with his bad arm, tickled me with the other. I hate him!

Angharad.Angharad.Angharad.Angharad.Angharad.Angharad.Angharad.

Don't forget comments, they make the author come to life, or should that be story? Nah it doesn't matter.

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 148

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Fiction

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Other Keywords: 

  • rite of passage

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

Easy Over Eggs,
Angharad Golden Hand & Peredur.
part: 100 & 4 dozen.

I thought I'd better look tidy, dunno why, universities are bastions of non-conformist thinking and Bohemianism. But, was I non-conformist or Bohemian? Not really, if I was I'd have just turned up wearing whatever and telling people to call me, whatever. Instead, I wanted to be accepted as a female, a normal one, and have relationships and do my other things as a normal woman. Which was why I was clattering into the professor's office at eight in the morning, wearing a suit and smart blouse. I was carrying my laptop, because I might need stuff I had on it.

It felt really strange seeing Mary's desk deserted, she was always there, I felt really sad. I thought back to her funeral at the crematorium, it was quite moving. Her family were there, although the prof and I sat at the back holding each other up, trying to avoid them. They had heard a sanitised view of the tragic incident. They were told, she had somehow flipped and threatened me and the professor with a knife, knocking me out and stabbing the professor, hence the shooting. Apparently, she had a history of bi-polar disorder and wasn't taking her medication, so the day she ran amok, she was manic.

We tried to slip away from the service, but were asked to wait by her mother, who was pushing ninety. To our astonishment, the old lady apologised to both of us. I gave her a hug and said, " The Mary I had known and worked with, was a lovely lady, who wouldn't hurt a fly. What had happened was an outbreak of her illness and it was so sad that they hadn't been able to disarm her before someone got hurt and she was killed."

"Thank you my dear, you are very kind. It was her illness that killed her, not you or the policeman who pulled the trigger, it was her illness."

I walked her to her car, whilst the rest of her family waited to thank the mourners for attending.

"Do come and see me, I live in Salisbury these days," I shook hands with her, "and it would be nice to hear how you are getting on. Mary said, you were an up and coming talent, and very beautiful. That was how I recognised you, by your beauty."

She held my hands and feeling my ring looked down at it. "What a beautiful ring for a beautiful girl, I hope your husband to be appreciates you, it looks like it from that ring."

"I'm very lucky Mrs Mallory, Simon is a really good man."

"With a good job by the look of it," she winked at me.

"Yes he has, he had the ring made to match these," I showed her the necklace and earrings, "they were my mother's."

"Your mother has gone?"

"Yes she died a couple or so months ago."

"Oh I am sorry, my dear. I'm too old to adopt you now, but if you want an adoptive grandmother, I'd be delighted to assist."

"That's really sweet," I thanked her and we embraced and air kissed.

"That's a lovely suit," she said touching the outfit, the same one I had worn to my mother's funeral.

"Thank you," I blushed despite the cold breeze.

"Do come and see me," she said pushing a card into my hand,"Salisbury isn't that far away unless you're on a bicycle or something."

"I ride one of those too," I grinned back.

"Hence your lovely figure." She got back into her car and it slowly drove off, with her waving to me as she went.

I went back and rescued the professor and took him home, before I went back to the cottage and the crazy siblings.

I shook myself, and walked away from the empty desk. The office key had been loaned to me from the front office and I went inside Agnew's office. It felt very strange too, like I was a child playing in my parent's bedroom and probably doing something naughty. I half expected him to walk in at any moment and tell me off for sitting in his chair.

So instead, I set up on an empty table, my wi fi being able to access a hot spot and get on the net. I sent him an email asking if there were any priorities I should clear first. Then I went off to make myself a cup of tea.

Coming back I saw a woman from reception with another woman, the receptionist said, "Ah here she is, the lady you'll be working with." I almost looked around to see who she meant. "It is Cathy, isn't it?" she said to me.

"Yes, that's me." I put down my mug of tea, "How can I help?"

"This is Pippa, your temp."

"Oh okay, welcome to the madhouse, I'm Cathy Watts."

"Pippa Knight," she took my extended arm and we shook hands, well fingers really.

"Cuppa?"

"Oh please." I put mine in the office and took her through to the small room which acted as our kitchenette. It had a sink, and a kettle plus the raw materials for making tea and coffee. She was a tea drinker, I knew we were going to get on fine.

She found a pile of letters to do and started typing them, whilst I explored the list the professor had sent me back. He'd also advised me, 'Top drawer, green filing cab. chocolate biscuits.'

Well I couldn't turn down an invitation like that, could I? Chocolate digestives, plain chocolate too, my favourite. There was also a bottle of Scotch, but that was not on my agenda one bit. I don't even like the smell, let alone taste.

"Ms Watts?" she said knocking and entering.

"Yes Ms Knight," I replied.

"Oh please call me Pippa," she said blushing.

"I will when you call me Cathy."

"Okay, Cathy it is."

"Right Pippa, what do you need?"

"I love that suit," she said, handing me some letters for signature."

"Yes, my sister in law to be, gave it to me. She has wonderful taste, and I have an empty wardrobe." I smiled and she chuckled. "Am I supposed to sign these?" I flicked through them, "Oh they're all to do with the project, I suppose I better had. oh I like that, 'Acting Project Coordinator.' I think we're going to get on fine, how long are you here for?"

"They didn't give me a date, but it was suggested a month or so. I hope it lasts, it's handy for me, I can get back and give my kids lunch and tea."

That surprised me, she didn't look any older than I was, and she has kids - in the plural. Then I'm supposed to be a career woman, so the fact that I can't have kids, could be a bonus. No it wasn't, if I though that I was deluding myself, but there's little point in crying over spilt milk, so I pulled myself together to do what I was there for.

I suddenly remembered I had an appointment with Dr Thomas, first thing tomorrow. Another early start, damn! So I needed to get as many things done today as I could.

Pippa left at five, calling 'bye' as she went, I'd told her I had a meeting first thing and would get in as soon as I could, but I'd leave her some stuff to do.

The prof had started a report, which was the first priority, he asked me to finish it. I phoned him. "You want me to finish this report?" I said swallowing hard.

"Yes, or I wouldn't have said so. I know women tend to say anything but what they mean, being a man, I actually say exactly what I mean."

"But I've never done one this important before," I said weakly.

"Well it's about bloody time you did. Now stop whining and get on with it, send me an email and I'll change anything I don't like."

That actually felt better, at least he was able to correct it. He should have been resting, but I knew he wasn't, probably walking his dozy spaniel.

I had a tutorial with the Potter girl, I texted her to come to the prof's office. Her essay was much better second time around, so we looked briefly at her next assignment. She was beginning to get the idea and she wrote furiously, making notes as we ran through the previously submitted work.

"This is so much easier the way you explain it," she said, "I'm so glad they assigned me to you for my tutor. When I told Daddy, he wasn't too impressed until I showed him my reworked essay. He told me he had misjudged you, as I did at our first meeting. I'd listened to the rumours and foolishly believed them. Now I know they were wrong, I don't believe anyone as natural and beautiful as you, was ever a boy. You're far too nice."

I said nothing, just smiled.

At seven I had just finished redoing the report to the prof's liking, when Simon phoned. "Where the hell are you?"

"I'd have thought that was obvious, or I wouldn't be talking to you on this phone." Men - duh!

"That's what I mean, why are you there?"

"That is a different question, Simon."

"Don't get arsey with me Lady Catherine, or I'll have to smack your lovely buttocks when you get home."

"With one arm in plaster? You just watch I don't break the other one!"

"That's fight'n talk Missus!"

"Yup, I guess it is," I replied with a pathetic attempt at a John Wayne drawl, why I have no idea, sounded more like Jerry Hall with a cold!

"You step outside gal and git what's comin' to yah."

"Oh yeah, and what'll that be?"

"Six inches of something hard."

"You what?" I squealed, probably damaging his hearing for life.

"I was referring to ma Colt."

"You haven't got a horse," I challenged still sniggering from the previous line.

"It's ma gun not my horse."

"I was going to say, I had a 'My Little Pony' and that was taller than six inches." By now I was becoming helpless with laughing.

"I'm calling you out Missus, ya shouldn't be laughin'."

"Why not?"

"Because it's fwightfuwy wude, and hurts my feewings!" he replied in a silly lisping voice.

"Well why didn't you say, Okay Desperate Dan, I'll grab a cow pie on the way home."

"When will that be?"

"I am just about to leave, is Beryl the Peril going to be there?"

"No she's gone out with John, so it's just the two of us, romantic eh?"

It was, after we ate the fish and chips I got on the way home, I fell asleep while cuddling with him. Another day in the life of a sex goddess-career woman!

 £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £

Don't forget, comments please, good, bad, indifferent - all welcome.

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 149

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Fiction

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • Teenage or High School

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Other Keywords: 

  • psychiatrists
  • drug induced psychosis
  • marmalade.

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

Cathy has a tough time with her favourite shrink, upsetting the good doctor in the process. Still no plot to speak of, but what's new?

Easy As Turning Out This Drivel.
by Angharad & Virginia Creeper.(A bit of a social climber).
part: 150-1

I must have gone to bed the previous night because I woke up in one, my own. I was so tired, the night before, I hadn't remembered climbing the stairs and getting undressed. My mouth felt as if I hadn't cleaned my teeth and my tongue seemed to have more fur than the average dormouse.

I showered and started to get the breakfast, aware I had to see Dr Thomas, although I really could have used the time for the project. I was going to have to speak to Bristol uni again, and try to set up a meeting when I was there theoretically, tomorrow or friday. I had so much to do.

I took Simon his breakfast, Stella was away last night, I suppose she's earned the odd night off. Simon was still asleep. "Wakey, wakey rise and shine," I trilled, "Good morning campers!" I said in a very poor Welsh accent which was supposed to be a rendition of Ruth Madoc's, from a sitcom based in a holiday camp.

I gave him a tray of toast, cereal and coffee. He smiled and we kissed, "I have to go, lover," I purred.

"I'll bet that bloody professor of your's doesn't start this early," he said looking at his watch.

"I'm not, I've got to see Dr Thomas."

"What for?"

"I told her I was engaged to you, she told me to get my head examined. I am."

"Bah, shrink wrapped, bloody shrinks. What do they know about madness? Now if they came and lived with Stella for a few days....", he grinned at me.

"You are so ungrateful to that long suffering sister of yours," I chided him.

"Me ungrateful! Ha! You should see her side of the bargain."

"Well I think she's done a super job of nursing you," I said.

"She ought to, she's supposed to be a professional. I'll bet your guinea pigs, get better care."

"Dormice," I corrected him.

"Whatever."

"I have to go," I kissed him and pinched a piece of toast, "Ugh it's got marmalade on." His reply was to laugh.

I was wearing my suit again, this time with my boots and a red blouse. I got to the good doctor's office a few minutes before my appointment and knocked on the door.

"Come," was called from within, so I opened the door, "Did you smell the coffee?"

"No doc, but I can now."

"Okay, I did promise you a cup." She poured me one and I accepted it and sat down in a comfortable chair alongside the small cofee table.

We sat and sipped the coffee for a minute or two. Then she leant forward and grabbed my left hand, "Is that what I think it is?"

I nodded, having taken a sip of coffee. "Yes," I said after swallowing.

"It's a lovely ring."

"Yes, he had it designed and made for me."

"What without your prior knowledge?"

"Yes."

"He took a risk then?"

"A calculated one." I went to explain about the design and my mother's jewellery. I also told the story of them conspiring and me thinking they were talking about drugs.

"So you wanted to withdraw as soon as you thought they were doing drugs?"

"Yes, I won't have anything to do with them."

"I wish that some of the young people I see with drug induced psychosis or schizophrenia, had done the same."

"Do you see much of that?"

"Too much I'm afraid, far too much. Anyway enough of that, what sort of week have you had?"

I told her about the incident in the department and subsequent funeral.

"Gosh you do lead a busy life, any after affects, nightmares, anxieties?"

I held up the cup, "Only when strange women offer me coffee," I smirked.

"Somebody nearly kills you and you make a joke out of it, you do realise the threat you were under?"

"I was out of it on rohypnol or whatever they call it. So I wasn't scared. I've been too busy since, covering for the Prof."

"What? You are doing his job?"

"Only the bit relating to the survey project."

"The last time I spoke to Tom, he seemed to think that was about two thirds of his current workload. He'd already offloaded much of his day to day admin to his admin assistant. I hope they're paying you."

"They said they would."

"Tom will see you right, he's a good man."

"I owe him my life."

"Oh, yes I see your point, however, I'm sure he doesn't see it that way."

"No he doesn't, in the same way you don't Dr Thomas."

"So how are the mad siblings?"

"Mad."

"I spoke with Stella a few days ago."

"Oh!" I gasped and felt myself getting hot. "What about?"

"Her surgeon buddy."

"Oh!" another gasp, her face looked very serious and I knew it wasn't good news.

"I spoke with him too."

"Please just give it to me straight," the suspense was killing me.

"Anyone would think I was tormenting you Cathy? I am merely explaining why I had to make the decision I did."

"Look Dr Thomas, we discussed this before and it crossed the guidelines and we agreed it could get you into trouble. So what decision was there to make?"

"I needed to discover if the Surgeon a Mr O'Rourke, was prepared to accept referrals and how we'd fund it. I have more patients seeking reassignment than you, you know."

"I'm sorry, I assumed...." I blushed and cringed at the same time, at this rate she would refer me in time for the Olympic Games in 2012.

"We had a very interesting discusion and in fact we ended up meeting for dinner. He's a lovely man, very cultured and very good looking too."

I wondered where this was leading, she didn't normally discuss that sort of thing with me, maybe she's in love and has to tell everyone, especially as I sort of brought them together. It still seemed very unlikely.

"It seems he had heard of you through Stella, and indeed did suggest to her that he could possibly help you. I pointed out to him that you had only been doing your life test for less than six months and he said he didn't know."

I knew it, come back in two years time and so on. My heart dropped even though I knew it was never on in the first place.

"I'm glad he's a nice man anyway, I hope if he's available that you see him again." I said, jumping over her boundaries, but I didn't care.

"I have to remind you Cathy that we are here to discuss your life not mine. Mine is quite acceptable at the moment."

"He is available, isn't he?"

"Would you like me to terminate this appointment? Yes I think I shall, you'll have to see Dr Winthropp next time."

"Dr Thomas, please, I am so sorry I was out of order. Please can I continue seeing you, I don't want to see another doctor, please."

"No, you will see Dr Winthropp on next monday."

"My birthday," I sobbed, I was really upset that she had dumped me, even if I had deserved it.

"Yes, I know."

"Some present that is," I sniffed.

"On the contrary, we need his agreement to refer you for surgery."

"What?" my head was spinning, did she say referal for surgery? I felt myself getting very giddy and....

"Cathy, Cathy, come on, take deep breaths, that's good now open your eyes. Good, how do you feel?"

"Phew! Strange." My head was still reeling. "I'm sorry, I think I must have gone off a bit then, I dreamt you were referring me for surgery, even though it's not possible."

"Why is it not possible?"

"Well because a moment ago, you were telling me you wouldn't see me again."

"When did I say that?"

"You told me, you were making me see Dr Win somebody instead. I asked for it because I got familiar with you, because I knew you were seeing the surgeon chap."

"How did you know that?"

"I just did, your eyes sparkled when you talked about him, I dunno, I guess I just knew it. Anyone could."

"No Cathy, not anyone, any woman might, but the average bloke wouldn't know until he saw it in writing."

"What does that mean?"

"You are catching up on your intuitive skills, some of the things which perhaps make women different to men, although there is dispute about whether these differences are societal role plays rather than sex differences."

"Is that good?"

"I think so."

"So can I see you again?"

"Of course you can."

"So why have I got to see Dr Windbag or whatever he's called?"

"Winthropp, Dr David Winthropp, because I need his agreement to refer you for surgery."

"What in a year's time?"

"You can wait that long if you prefer, but I was counting on using a space Mr O'Rourke has on New Year's Day."

My head went funny again, "I'm dreaming this, aren't I? You didn't say that did you?"

"Say what?"

"New Year's Day, you can't have said it, ooh...."

"Cathy, please wake up, Cathy, come on wake up."

My head was buzzing. Shit I had to get to the university, so much work to do. "I have to go Dr Thomas, I have lots of work to do." I stood up on wobbly legs. "Was I asleep for long? I'm so sorry, it's very rude of me."

"Cathy sit down, NOW!" her voice got louder at the end of that instruction. I nearly crapped myself, she had never shouted at me before. "Now I want you to repeat after me, got that?"

I nodded my understanding.

"I am going to see Dr Winthropp on monday, for my second referal for gender reassignment surgery."

I repeated what she said and felt tears welling up inside me.

"Wait no crying, now repeat after me, assuming he agrees, I will see Mr O'Rourke for surgery on Ist of January."

I repeated the sentence and burst into tears, shaking my head in disbelief.

"You'll have to see him before that obviously for an exam, but he thinks he can do something for you."

"I don't know what to say, thank you, seems inadequate." I was still sobbing and unable to look her in the face.

"Convince David Winthropp that my haste with you is reasonable and not my impatience to see you complete."

"I will. Thank you doctor."

She helped me up, gave me a handful of tissues and a hug, "Better sort your make up out in the loo, oh and Happy Birthday."

"Thank you," was all I could say, my head was still spinning.

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

Usual request for comments on how bad this has got, you watch she'll be picked to Ride in the Olympics next! What a load of tosh.

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 150

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Fiction

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Other Keywords: 

  • Does size matter? Are bigger ones less tasty? Tomatoes I mean.

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

Some days there is thick and double thick, then there is Simon - maybe he's clotted or just a clot?

Easy Street
by Angharad & Claude Balls (he annoyed Bonzi).
part:149+1

I got back to the professor's office in something of a dither. I had tried to phone Simon and Stella, but they didn't appear to be answering. I had this wonderful news but couldn't share with just anyone, it would have to wait. Pippa made me a cuppa as soon as I arrived and showed me some calls that she had taken. I spent the next half an hour returning them.

Then it was a call to Bristol and, I spent an hour on a conference call to them, talking to three of their senior lecturers. It seemed astonishing to me that I was the least qualified and experienced, yet they were happy for me to continue leading, both my own section and the project until the professor came back.

When I saw mounting paperwork, I realised why they'd not volunteered. I called the nutty professor.

"I hope you're going to be back by New Year's Day?"

"That depends upon how my shoulder feels, why?"

"I'm not going to be available for several weeks afterwards."

"Why, where are you going?"

"Hospital."

"Why what's wrong?" he sounded quite worried.

"I have a long standing medical condition which I'm hoping they can finally sort out."

"Oh dear, sorry to hear that. I'll have to try and see what I can do about getting back by then."

"I thought I'd better warn you, I got notice of it this morning."

"Might I ask what it is?"

"A gynae problem," I said wanting to chortle.

"A what?" he said sounding surprised.

"Vagina inverticus, I'm getting it sorted."

He laughed for several moments, "I'm delighted for you."

"Thanks Professor, mind you I have to convince a second shrink, on my birthday of all days."

"Oh, I shouldn't think there'll be any difficulty with that. So when is your appointment with the shrink?"

"On monday."

"I'll keep my fingers crossed for you girl, but I can't believe you'll have any problems. Now did you speak to Bristol, and they're happy with the new arrangements?"

"They didn't seem to be queueing up to take over."

"I didn't think they would, did you write to Sir Alan?"

"I did, told him I wanted a pay rise and a chair of my own."

"Why, what's wrong with the three in my room?" He refused to rise to my baiting.

"Nothing, except Spike gnawed through the leather one, and peed on one of the others, and I got tomato soup all over the other."

"If that bloody tree rat of yours damaged my chair there will be a patch about the same size as her repairing it, a furry patch!" He pretended to sound cross but I knew he wasn't.

"It wasn't her fault, she followed one of the other three that escaped in here, she was only chewing the same as them."

"I think while you're away practising how to sit comfortably, I'm going to get some new furry slippers."

"You wouldn't dare!" I said horrified.

"Those bloody vermin are eating us out of house and home."

"What about the award we got for the breeding programme?"

"Will the certificate cover the hole in my chair?"

"Nearly."

"Don't forget you have a second appointment on monday."

"Not according to my diary."

"Well write this in now."

"Okay, who and where, and what is it about?"

"Lunch with me at Grainger's at twelve thirty, block out two hours."

"Erm, I may be too busy with all this paperwork, I have three lots from the government."

"That wasn't an invitation, it was an instruction, bring your shorthand book we'll do some dictation."

"I can't do shorthand, I'm a scientist, remember?"

"Oh damn, I thought you could. Bring a voice recorder will you, give the temp something to do."

"She has plenty already, and she's doing really well."

"What's her name?"

"Pippa."

"Sounds like one of your bloody dormice."

"I'll tell her, I'm sure she could work more slowly, especially when you come back."

"Don't you dare. So she's doing all right is she?"

"Yeah, we'll never replace Mary, but she's doing pretty well."

"Okay, depending upon how she does for the month, we could look to extend the contract. Sadly, if we took her on ourselves we have to pay the agency a large fee."

"Yeah I know."

Lunch was ham roll Pippa got for me, when she popped home to her kids, then the afternoon, we spent sorting out a ream of stuff for her to do for the next two days, while I was away in Bristol.

I checked up on my field project and my understudies were doing okay, they had one lot of data for me, which I showed them how to load on my programme. I simply had no spare time any more.

I got home and discovered that Simon had had his plaster off and was now wearing a bandage on his arm. We had a little kiss, then I set about doing a chicken casserole for tomorrow, in the slow cooker. Once it was on I shoved some pork chops under the grill and did some potatoes and veg. It was nothing special but Stella and he enjoyed it.

"I have a bit of news for you," I announced.

"You have a dessert?" said Simon.

"You'll get your just ones, one of these days!" Snapped Stella.

"I have to see a second shrink on monday."

"What happened to the first one, did she shrink?" Simon was now on a roll, I could tell.

"No, in fact she is alive and well. I have to see a second one...."

"To get your referral. Oh Cathy, that is wonderful news." Stella leapt up and hugged me. "Are you going to let Michael do it?"

"That's the plan, can you organise an appointment, to you know....?"

"Sure, as good as done, you'll like him he is gorgeous, looks a bit like George Clooney."

"Wow, no wonder Dr Thomas had a sparkle in her eye." Then it occurred to me, Stella had said he was saving for his daughter's wedding, so was he, married, and how did I ask?

"Oh so that's who he's been seeing? John mentioned he was dating someone. It'll be good for him to get over losing his wife."

"What happened to her?" I asked.

"She divorced him, he came home from work one day and found a 'Dear John' letter. She ran off with a millionaire businessman."

"What is this second referral business?" said Simon looking puzzled.

"I need to see two shrinks before I can be referred for surgery."

"What, the erm, erm operation?" he asked blushing furiously.

"Yep, but these days they call it gender reassignment, or adjustment. Effectively, it's a vaginoplasty and clitoroplasty with penectomy and bilateral orchidectomy." She looked him in the eye and said, "They chop off the unwanted bits, snip snip." She made scissor shapes with her fingers to emphasise the point.

"Oh God, that's awful!" groaned Simon, covering his groin in a very Freudian response.

"Not if you don't feel they're part of you. To me it's like the removal of a small tumour, something I don't need and would prefer to have transmogrified into something I do want, and I thought you wanted me to have as well."

"Of course I do, I want you to be happy sweetheart, I just hadn't thought about it before, it sounds painful to me."

"We do use an anaesthetic," quipped Stella.

Simon grimaced, "Won't it hurt afterwards?"

"I'm told that dilating isn't much fun to begin with."

"What's that?" asked Simon.

"Shoving a plastic dilator into the cavity to maintain it and stretch it."

"Oh hell, that sounds awful, you don't have to do that do you?"

"Yes, otherwise, it will close up and your honeymoon will be boring."

"What, you're doing this for me?"

"I'm doing it for me," I smiled to Simon, "So I can be as complete as possible. If I didn't know you, I would still want it done, but because I do know you and love you, I want it even more. I want to be your wife Simon, in every sense."

I placed my hand under his chin and pulled his lips to mine. After a sensual kiss, he asked, "When did you say you're getting it done, monday was it?"

"No silly, although it would have been a nice birthday present," I said to no one in particular.

"It's not your birthday on monday is it?" said Stella picking up on my
unintentional disclosure.

I blushed and nodded.

"It's December first on, let's see.... saturday, yeah, saturday. So it's...."

"I know which day it is, pass me your plate Simon." He did and I collected up Stella's. "Look it's no big deal, okay, I've got to go out with the nutty professor for lunch. I haven't got time for it. I really haven't."

"But we have to celebrate," said Simon.

"We'll see, if Dr Winthropp refuses my referral, then I may not feel like celebrating at all." I sloped off to the kitchen and checked on my casserole.

Simon came out and put his arms around me from behind. "How can he fail to see you're a woman, even I can, and I'm not the most perceptive of blokes." He kissed me on the neck.

"I hope you're right lover," I said, as I felt tears from in my eyes. "All my life I've felt I was I female, now I get the chance to achieve it, and I feel frightened. What if he says, 'no', I'll just die."

Simon hugged me, kissing the back of my neck again, "If he says no, we'll find someone who says yes. Surely, your normal shrink will have primed him just by sending you to him?"

"I hadn't thought of that." I felt a little reassured from his words and his hug.

"I'd have thought the big problem was believing you weren't a natural female. I know it surprised the hell out of me."

I turned in his arms, "I hated doing that to you, but you wouldn't go away, I did try to stop you."

"I know, and that just made me love you even more. Why did you stop trying to dump me?"

"Because I fell in love with you silly, why did you think?"

"I just like hearing you tell me," he said gently.

"Yeah it saved him saying it to himself, coo that casserole smells nice, is that for tomorrow." Stella had joined us in the kitchen, "Right show me how to do this bread machine."

"Oh shit, you're off to Bristol tomorrow?" Simon posed a rhetorical question. "Let's leave this hag to do the dishes and make mad, passionate love all night."

"Sounds like the best offer I've had all day." I smiled and kissed him.

"That's right, leave the gooseberry to clean up as usual," grumbled Stella.

"I'll bet you weren't washing up all night last night were you?" asked Simon rather pointedly.

"Off you go then," she blushed.

 £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £ £

Don't forget to comment on the size of it! The length I mean, do you have a preferred one? Oops! I mean the word count on this episode, what did you think I was talking about?

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 151

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Serial Chapter

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Other Keywords: 

  • Dolls/Dolls' House
  • periods
  • snoring
  • you asleep yet?

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

Easy As Writing This.
by: Mother Christmas.
part: 150 + 1. (12 dozen plus 7).

I cuddled down with Simon, wishing I'd brought some sexier nighties, a long tee shirt with a picture of a yawning mouse on the front, is hardly seductive nightwear. Then did I want to seduce him? I wasn't sure - dammit, I was absolutely sure, yes I did want to seduce him, but not before I'd had God's cock-up, maybe slip up would sound better, otherwise it could sound like the problem the Virgin Mary had!

Hell I was so randy, but I had to control myself. Another few months and ...., what if it hurts? Arrrgh! What if I can't feel anything except somebody trying to give me a sore throat by another route? Oh hell, more to worry about.

Simon put his arm around my waist and pulled me into him, I could feel something growing, it was almost stabbing me in the buttocks. "I love you Lady Kate," he said suggestively, and kissed my ear.

"Who? You're not talking in your sleep I hope?" I pretended to be outraged.

"Wha', who, what's going on?" he pretended he was asleep and we both giggled. I like men who can giggle, I don't feel quite so stupid when I do it then.

"So what are you going to do tomorrow?" I asked him.

"Oh I think, play, like your dormice, you know, when the cat's away...." He chuckled to himself and and the hard thing in my back wobbled up and down.

"I think there's the loose spring in this bed," I said.

"I hope not, it's less than a year old," he commented with indignation.

"I'm sure there is, I can feel it sticking in my back, here...." I grabbed behind me and gasped with mock surprise, "Ooh it's not a spring, you were quite right."

We laughed as I turned around to lie on my back, still holding on to something. "I think this is the first time, I've ever had someone by the short and curlies," I said almost choking on my laughter.

"I see, and what do you mean by that?" he asked quite assertively.

"A girl I knew in Sussex used to say, 'Lead 'em by the balls and their hearts and minds soon follow.' I sort of knew what it meant, but that was in a literal sense, I've just had a second insight into what it meant."

"Oh, so she didn't lead you around then?" He asked gently rubbing my breast and squeezing my nipple.

"No, she was just a friend, more an acquaintance, probably thought I was gay anyway."

"Why would she think that?" he continued massaging my chest.

"Because I didn't date anyone. I didn't know how, does that sound awful?"

"No, unless you have actually tried something, how can you know how to do it? I think I commented on your gauche efforts the first few times."

"Probably, I was running on so much adrenalin the first couple of times I met you, that I probably would have tested positive for something in a drugs test."

"Why was that?" he continued to stroke my nipple and then before I could answer him, he kissed me.

I wanted him so badly, I was almost twitching with lust. Then when he leant over and sucked my nipple through the cotton, I almost squeezed his appendage right off! He had to move his hand to mine to get me to relax my grip.

"Sorry," I squeaked and sniggered.

"It's not funny," he groaned, "I didn't realise you had so much strength in your fingers. Coo!"

"Would you like me to kiss it better?" I asked coyly.

"Not just at this minute," he said lying on his back, and putting his arm under my neck.

I turned to face him, and started kissing his nipple.

"I can't believe you were frightened of me, looking at you now," he observed.

Recalling my fear of the first few times we met, I shrank back from him. "I was terrified, like I said, I'd never dated anyone before."

"Frightened of me, how could anyone be frightened of me?"

"Simon you are twice my size. My experience of men finding out about me, usually resulted in violence."

"Why who else knows?"

"I mean my dad."

"Oh that. Have you forgiven him for it yet?"

"I try not to think about it, he's apologised and he returned my dolly."

"Returned your dolly?"

"Yeah, when I was about eight, I swapped a football for a doll with a girl in school."

"What did she want with a football?" he asked.

"She was a tomboy and probably had more use for it than for a doll. After Christmas, we were asked what Santa had brought, and I said a football. Actually what I said was this long list of things like pencils and colouring books, and a stupid football.

She came up to me at break time and said, 'What do you want to swap for your football?' I asked her what she was offering and she said she had a new doll she didn't want. We swapped surrepticiously the next day.

Daddy found me playing with it, some weeks or so later. By that time I'd swapped my football kit, Chelsea I think it was, anyway it was blue, for a few different outfits for my dolly."

"What happened when he found you with your dolly?"

"He got very red and demanded to know where I'd got it. I told him I bought it off a girl in school, who had too many. Then he snatched it away and all her clothes and told me he'd smashed her and chucked her in the bin. I went to run to the bin screaming, and he caught hold of me and ...." I felt a tear escape.

"I think I can live without the details, hey," he kissed my tears," no need to cry, you can have as many dollies as you want."

"Thank you," I sobbed, and he held me tightly, whispering sweet nothings. Suddenly my lust and nerve had deserted me, and I was back to the gauche schoolgirl again.

"You're safe now, no one will ever hurt you again, I promise." He spoke gently but with enough edge to let me know he meant it.

I nodded feeling even more stupid and embarrassed than usual. I was never going to be a seductress, so I might as well give up now and enter a convent.

"I love you Lady Kate," he said, and kissed my tears again.

"When you sent that Paddington," I sniffed, "the bloke who delivered it was a real moron. He couldn't read the address."

"Well how did it get to you then?" he asked, suddenly getting all rational.

"No, he couldn't make out the addressee. He asked for Lady Stane something or other."

"Oh yes, my little joke," Simon sniggered, "just trying to get you used to it, that was all."

"Well I said to him, Stain remover is it?"

"He said, 'could be,' so I took it."

"It's an old joke. They used to call me 'Dabitoff' at school."

"Why you're not Russian?" I said innocently, whereupon he fell back on the bed and convulsed with laughter.

It was some minutes later before he could control himself, and I felt more stupid than ever. "What did I say?" I asked and he curled up with laughter again. I was laughing too, because you do, even though you have no idea for what.

"You have never heard of a solvent you could get for spot cleaning, called Dab-it-off?"

"No, why."

"I think they've probably withdrawn it now, stop kids sniffing it."

"I don't understand?" I was genuinely perplexed and embarrassed.

"Stain remover, Dab-it-off, was I Russian?" He fell back and once more laughed like a drain, only this time, I could understand why, and laughed with him. I was still embarrassed, but it was acceptable now.

We spooned together, and I felt his warm body pressing against mine, only now he was asleep. It felt good, I was safe with him, in all senses and I felt a tear roll down my cheek and drip onto the pillow. I was crying because I was happy, stupid isn't it, but I couldn't help it.

The next morning, I arose early and went off to shower, Simon was still asleep. I wanted to pop into the office to see Pippa about a few things. I dressed and dried my hair, I was in jeans for the drive back, so I didn't bother with makeup. Besides my eyes were sore, I hadn't slept too well, I was too warm to be really comfortable and I had thoughts and memories rattling around my brain most of the night. Simon also snores when he lies on his back, so I had to keep poking him too. I think I shall buy some ear plugs when I get the chance.

I took him his breakfast and kissed him goodbye. He gave me a hangdog look and I nearly cried again, but I think my lachrymal glands must have run dry.

"God you look rough!" exclaimed Pippa, quickly putting her hand up to her mouth. "Oh I'm sorry, I didn't mean it to sound like that...."

I gave her a Paddington hard stare, and said, "Simon snores, enough said?"

She nodded and sniggered, "Tea?"

"Yes please."

I did an hour's work and passed the results on to Pippa to type and send off. I was beginning to see that working for the government was more of a curse than a blessing. But as the professor said, it was how we funded the things we want to do, rather than they want us to do, which benefits the most. I remember him joking once that he called his reports to the Department of the Environment, his 'periods', they came monthly and were a curse! I could see what he meant.

At ten, I set off for Bristol, yawning like mad and hoping it was a straight forward drive.

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Don't forget, comments aren't just welcome, they're mandatory! if you don't believe me, ask Erin.

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 152

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Fiction

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

Easy As Getting Back From My Party.
by: Angharad Houdini.
part 140 + dozen.

The drive back to Bristol was as tedious as ever, it always seems that way when you don't feel in the mood for delays. The problem with motorways is that they are fast when they are moving, when they are slow, they become stationary. The latter happened three times, at one point I was sat for ten minutes without moving an inch.

I sat yawning and listening to the car radio, mostly radio four, which is primarily talk radio, news and drama and documentary. There was something on about pandas and I suddenly fancied going to China to see them in the wild. Then I remembered some picture I saw on the internet of a domestic cat in a Chinese market, whose fate was to be killed and eaten. How can they eat moggies? That would be worse than eating dormice, I shuddered as I thought about it, and the pandas lost their appeal.

I called in Morrisons on the way in to Bristol and after filling up the tank, which almost required a mortgage, I did some shopping for food as well and crawled into the house about half past one, exhausted.

I defrosted some soup I'd frozen and also some bread, and got them ready to take to my dad. I meanwhile ate a pasty I'd bought in the supermarket, as much for quickness as anything else.

I changed into something more presentable and slapped on some makeup, then I tidied up my hair and swapped the cars over, taking my little Mercedes to the hospital. It felt so small after the bigger Ford.

Daddy was pleased to see me and ate his soup and bread without a murmur. He also seemed happy to listen to me explaining how things were for me. I showed him the ring and he called the nurses to see it. They oohed and ahhed quite a lot, so I suspect they were suitably impressed. Certainly Daddy appeared to be, especially when I told him that it had been modelled around Mum's jewellery. He kept telling me that Simon was a 'vood ban.' It sounded like some decree from Brussels, but I discovered it meant, good man. I wasn't going to disagree.

Eventually I got home and fixed myself something to eat after setting up the bread machine, and putting a load of laundry in the washer. I do love the glamorous female role, yeah, don't I just!

I had just sat down with a cuppa when Simon rang, he'd seen the physio who said he could start driving again in a few days depending upon doing his exercises. That was incentive enough, I could see him driving Stella up the wall rather than out in the car, plus she was going to resent giving up the Saab for her old banger.

He told me he was going to get her a newer car for Christmas, but not to tell her, because he was going to enjoy the month's wind up first. I am really surprised that either of them has lived as long as they have, I half expect to come one day and find they have killed each other. I hope they are insured.

He told me that the markets were very volatile and he'd lost five million by lunch but had recouped it all by tea and turned in a profit of another million, this time playing with oil and gas markets. I had no idea how he could do any of this, the stress must be horrid, coping with what I had to do now, was bad enough.

I checked my emails, there was nothing that needed urgent action, thank goodness. Finally, I changed and went to bed, and this time I zonked in no time. In my handbag were some earplugs I'd bought in the supermarket pharmacy, I was ready for Simon next time.

The next morning, I was still eating my toast when Stella called. "Hi Sis, your appointment with Michael is next monday at three o'clock."

"What, oh my goodness, I'll not get anywork done that day at this rate."

"It is your birthday, dear."

"Oh hell yes, but that is three appointments now. Two quacks and a nutty academic."

"Four if you count dinner with Simon, John and me."

"Oh no, I'll be as fat as a pig."

"Get the bike out girl, burn some carbs."

"Yeah, I wish."

"Why can't you?"

"I have to see them at the university then make some food for my dad and go and see him."

"Why can't you go on the bike to the university?"

"I've got to take my laptop with me."

"Haven't you got a rack and saddle bags?"

"On my road bike!" I screeched, "That's like holding a drugs party in a cathedral, it's sacrilege."

"Oh, I was just trying to help."

"Yes I know. I have to do a presentation to them, I suppose I could download it to a disc and just take that. I could I supose."

"Do you absolutely need your lappie?"

"No it's just the way I've always done it."

"Well now's the time to try something different Sis."

"I'd better not go in cycling kit."

"Is that the yellow one, we replaced?"

"No that's in my room, this one is a GB racing team copy."

"Ooh, I'll bet that's pretty."

"It is actually, red white and blue, but not for a presentation. I'd need to take a change of shoes, possibly clothes. Nah, it's all too much bother, I'll take the car."

"Hypocrite," she snapped.

"What do you mean?" I felt very defensive and hurt by her attack.

"Well you're doing all this stuff about global warming and using a car when a bike would do."

"Okay, I'll go by bike and do the presentation in cycling skins, happy?"

"Don't be like that, I'm just your conscience, like the cricket in Pinochio."

"Sure, I can see your nose growing from here."

"It's like these international agreements to cut CO2, it takes a hundred jumbo jets to ferry all the government odd-bods, and they can't agree anyway, having put thousands of tons of muck into the air for no reason."

"You won your point Stella, leave out the overkill. I'll go by bike, but I need to get ready because it takes longer."

"Oh okay."

"Thanks for organising the appointment with your friend, I do appreciate it."

"That's okay, see you on saturday, which may be the last time you need to baby sit anyway, if he can drive again. I'm back to work on monday, so he can do the same."

I did my disc and got it and the other stuff I'd need into a small backpack I had used before with the bike. I'd also arranged to take the bike into the office to keep it safe, I wasn't going to lose it twice.

I cycled in a top and jeans, with a cycling jacket on top of that. It wasn't the most comfortable gear, but it worked and I got there safely and in good time.

Bob Smart, my liaison, was impressed that I'd cycled. "I try to practice what we're preaching here." Ever the hypocrite, but with Stella's coaching, I was getting better by the day.

The presentation was to about thirty or forty students and teachers who were running the survey. We at Portsmouth had agreed a system with Natural England and their counterparts in Scotland and Wales. This had been backed by government, so it was how things were going to be done.

I'd contributed a small part to the original draft, and Prof Agnew had included some of my survey work. Now I was selling it, like a politician on the stump. Talk about change of role, this was bigger than my gender change, coming from being a backroom boy to a front line girl.

I know I got some stares from the men in the audience, they were expecting a professor and instead of the organ grinder, here was the monkey!

Bob introduced me and pointedly asked how many had arrived by car. All but two had. He then told them, I had cycled, practising what we were all preaching. I reckoned I'd saved about a couple of grams of CO2. One cow fart would neutralise that, but I suppose his point was to get them thinking.

Then it was my bit, oh boy, was I nervous and sweating more than I did on the bike. I went through the chapter and verse, then fended questions.

"Where is Professor Agnew?"

"He's unavailable," countered Bob.

"Yeah, playing golf, while we get his saturday girl."

I decided to intervene. "Yeah, that's about it. I didn't write the protocol for the system, that was Prof Agnew with a colleague. I did however, prove the system, it's based on my survey techniques, which we've honed over two years. The interim results have been published in the Journal of the Mammalian Society, and therefore peer reviewed. So I'm not quite the saturday girl, Girl Friday, perhaps.

Professor Agnew can't be with us today because he was attacked and stabbed while trying to disarm someone who had a mental breakdown and threatened one of his students with a knife. He is recovering and hopes to be back in harness again by New Year."

"Miss Watts, how do you know that what works with dormice, a relatively sedentary species, will work with say, foxes and badgers?"

"We've tried it, so have you. One of your leading Professors has used my system and found it worked in these larger mammals, it's also been piloted with roe deer."

"What do you need us for then?" called some wag from the back.

"Several reasons, firstly, my expertise is with rodents, particularly the Common Dormouse, you are all experts in your own specific area, either of geography or species. Nothing is written in tablets of stone, but we need to make any tweaks to the system pretty quickly. This is going Europe wide, or at least EC wide within two years, and unlike the politicians, we are going to be a major factor in controlling it. This is the biggest survey ever undertaken in Europe, having mention of it on your CVs is going to be very useful. Finally, I can't get everywhere on my bike, so I have to ask you to get on yours."

The combination of kudos and humour seemed to work and I got a standing ovation. I was nearly in a swoon after what seemed like a hostile period. Then several came up and chatted with me afterwards.

"Well Batgirl, I think you sold it as well if not better than Tom would have done. If you'd come in in your riding lycras, they'd have hung on every movement and gesture and not taken on board one word of it. So you'd have had loads of emails tomorrow. Good job done, I'll make sure Tom gets to hear."

"Thank you, but don't make it too glowing, or he'll send me instead of doing his share."

"Okay I won't, how about some lunch?"

"I can't I'm afraid Professor I have to dash back and see my dad in hospital. If he knows I'm in town, he won't eat hospital food, I have to cook something for him."

"That sounds like hard work."

"It is, but he knows if I cooked it or not. I even have to make the bread, using one of those machines."

"Yeah, they're really good, my daughter has one. It used to be ours but we were eating too much bread, so we gave it to her."

I made my goodbyes and rode home as fast as I could, to make him a sandwich and then dash off to the hospital, in the car and wearing a skirt.

''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

I did make it back and here are the results. Let's hear your excuses for not writing comments.

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 153

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Fiction

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

Easy As Falling Under A Bus.
by:Angharad Llaw Euraid.(see The Mabinogion)
part: 153.

At the hospital, Dad played up. He wouldn't eat his sandwich and he wanted to go to the pub. I didn't. I was tired and I had work to do. When I told him I was expecting to go for surgery around New Year, he got quite cross with me.

"Why are you doing this to me, you knew what was going to happen once I told you? I am not playing at this, this," I pointed at myself, "What you see is what you get."

He didn't want to discuss it. But I did.

"You seemed to accept that I was going to marry Simon, but you didn't contemplate I was going to have to alter something first? Did you think I was joking about Simon?" I played with my engagement ring.

"Daddy, this ring is real, it's probably worth over a thousand pounds knowing Simon, I don't know and sometimes I'd prefer to stay ignorant. It isn't a joke, it isn't some civil partnership ceremony. I shall be married as a female to a male. I would like you to give me away - I mean, as my father at the ceremony. Would you do that?"

I looked across at him, and he was sat very still, a tear was running down his face. I didn't know what to do. I was caught in that dichotomous tension of wanting to slap him and love him at the same time. He seemed to be able to do this at the drop of a hat.

"Will you at least think about it, because if you don't I know someone who would be pleased to do it."

He glanced at me, another tear followed the first one, then he looked away.

"I'm going Daddy, I love you, but some days you make it very difficult." I stood up and walked out, I had tears of frustration in my own eyes by the time I got to my car. I didn't know if this was deliberate, or his strokes or unconscious. I suppose because I was vulnerable to him, he pushed my buttons. I did the same to him. The only difference was that he needed me, I didn't need him any more. Yet I knew I couldn't abandon him, not without him giving me great cause.

I drove home, whimpering and when I got indoors, I had a real bawling session. Of course Simon called before I'd got my breathing back to normal.

"You've been crying, what's the problem?"

"Nothing, just tiredness."

"Don't give me that, what is it?"

"Daddy played up, he wanted to go to the pub and I said ,no, I was too tired. I was going to do a whole mass of work, but I've done nothing except cry. I might as well have taken him to the damned pub."

"Let it go babes, he's probably had a naff day too. Let's face it, he doesn't do anything does he, so the highlight of his day is when you visit."

"And I let him down, is that what you're saying?"

"No, not at all. I suspect it was a miscommunication, that's all."

"Maybe. I'm exhausted, so I'm going to bed with Paddington."

"If he makes one move on my fiancee, tell him he's an ex bear!"

"Before or after the move?"

"I'll let you decide."

"I think I'll pass on that, the idea of being seduced by someone wearing a duffel coat and wellies, is just too much."

"Oh damn," he paused for effect and I half suspected what was coming, "I've just bought new ones, why do ya think I sent Paddington, to smooth the way."

"Simon, if I thought for one moment, that any of that was true, I would show you where you could stick your ring, and it would be somewhere above and between your wellies, at speed!"

"Ouch!" was his only retort.

"Before you say it, "Yes I am a cruel woman, but I meant it. I am too tired to think, so I am going to have a cuppa and go to bed. If you wake me up for any reason, then I will personally grind your bones to make my bread! Goodnight."

I unplugged the phone and went to bed. It was about eleven by the time I'd taken my makeup off, cleaned my teeth and washed. I decided I wouldn't call into the hospital on the way down to Simon's, I would give Dad some space, and take some myself. If he saw it as punishing him, tough, I didn't give a shit. I was in a no compromise mood. If someone upset me tonight, annihilation would follow, knee jerk fashion. Good job I wasn't PM or US President, because if one of our soldiers got shot in Afghanistan, the way I felt, I'd have nuked Kabul, or maybe just Southmead Hospital.

I got cross with myself for such a silly attitude, maybe I should just nuke myself, except I was too big to get in the microwave. I slipped into bed and then couldn't sleep. Life's a bitch....and then you get insomnia.

It was two thirty, the computer had just won it's first game of Scrabble, but only because it cheats. It wouldn't allow me a two letter word, then played it itself and went out. I checked out the window, it wasn't a full moon.

After another cuppa, only this time a milky coffee, I went back to bed and finally slept. I woke hearing lots of traffic noise, when I looked at the clock it was nine thirty.

I showered, packed, dressed and threw on some lippy, at half ten, I was on the road. I'd not prepared anything for my father so I went straight to the cottage as I'd planned. I felt very guilty, but I'd live.

Simon was out when I got there, he was driving his car. Fortunately Stella was there, so I unburdened to her.

"I'd just let it go Sis, it's not worth the effort of the upset. If you knew if he was playing you up deliberately, then you could take action to thwart it, because you don't, you can't. Let it go and see what happens."

How come everyone else was a better expert on my life than me? We had some more tea and I went for a walk in the garden to get some air. The garden to the cottage is large, as is the cottage, a misnomer by any standards.

Near the French windows, is a patio giving way to a lawn and flower beds. Beyond that is a pond with small fountain, one of those solar powered things. Past the pond is a vegetable patch, with some sprouts and leeks still in situ, the rest had been dug and spread with manure.

Once past the smelly element, there was a large garden shed plus compost heap and water butt, and so on. There was more lawn, then a wild bit, with apple and pear trees and a hawthorn and hazel hedge, with various other trees and shrubs growing in it. The hedge was probably ten feet high and almost as deep. I could just about see, though it, bearing in mind it was autumn/winter time. Then I saw something I could not believe.

I ran back into the house to get my camera, and called to Stella. She came rushing out, "What's the matter?" she asked thinking there was an emergency.

"Who does the garden?" I asked.

"Why?"

"Who does it?"

"An old boy called Sam, why?"

"Tell him to do minimal work on this hedge."

"He chops a bit back each spring or winter or some time, I don't know, Simon arranges it all. Why, what's the problem with the hedge?"

"It isn't a problem, see this green leaved stuff, ouch!" I pricked my finger, "this is hawthorn, very good hedging material. Properly laid, nothing will come through without armour plate. This really needs relaying, but there could be a problem."

"Oh why is that?"

"The other dominant growth here is hazel, it's been coppiced in the past by the look of things, that provides fire wood and stuff for hurdles, bean sticks and so on. It also provides catkins and hazel nuts, favoured fare of...."

"I don't know, squirrels, we get them in the garden fairly regularly. Even had one get in the house few years ago, what a mess."

"Quite, no not squirrels."

"A bird of some sort?"

"The hedge presumably gives food and shelter to dozens of birds at different times of the year. No, look there," I pointed.

"What am I supposed to see?"

"See that clump in the hawthorn?"

"Oh yes, bird's nest is it?"

"Yep, Muscardinus avellanarius, to be precise."

"What bird is that then?"

"A dormouse bird."

"What? A dormouse, we have dormice in our hedge?"

"Yes."

"Hooo-weeeh, wait till Simon finds out. How did you spot that?"

"See the footprints?"

"You can identify them from that?"

"Pretty well, plus the gnawed hazel shells, then look for the nest. there it is. The shells are jagged not round like mice eaten ones."

"Oh wow, this is brilliant, you really are an expert aren't you?"

"Sort of," I blushed.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Comments please, this was nearly lost when the site went down as I was posting it.

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 154

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Fiction

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

The girls go shopping with consequences neither could foresee!

Easy As Killing Things!
by:Black hearted Bonzi.
purred: 154.

With Simon out, I wished I'd brought my bike down with me, however Stella suggested we went shopping instead. "Let's get some Christmas prezzies," not my favourite phrase.

I tidied myself up, if I was going out with a glamour puss, I'd better not let the side down. I pulled on a knitted woollen dress in a silver grey colour, and my red boots. The dress was another Stella cast off, but as the forecast was for cool weather, I thought I'd be ready. The material was very fine cashmere, and probably cost an arm and a leg. It was as soft as snow, and emphasised my growing breasts, helped by a booster bra - well, a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do!

I pulled on my black cord hooded jacket and grabbed my bag and gloves, my make up was simple, mascara and lip gloss.

"That dress!" exclaimed Stella.

"Is there anything wrong with it?" I blushed back.

"Only that it looks better on you than it did on me, s'not fair." She gave me her best pout and I began to giggle.

"Oh damn, now I have to go for a wee," I declared running off to the cloakroom.

We went to Portsmouth and joined the throng, it was absolute mayhem and I held tightly to my bag, so many thieves about in these large crowds.

An old lady fell down a few yards in front of us. Stella decided she had to assist, and while she was doing so, her bag went. I spotted the bastard who took it and racing after him jumped on his back knocking both of us down. A policeman, coincidentally happened to be strolling by when I brought off my rugby tackle, and he came to see what was going on.

Thankfully he listened to me and on searching the guy, found Stella's little handbag in his poacher's pocket, a deep pocket inside some sporting coats.

He arrested him on the spot and after taking my name and address, instructed me to call by the police station to make a statement. A colleague of his took the thief away and the arresting copper came back with me to where Stella was dealing with the paramedic. The old dear had had a MI - myocardial infarct - heart attack to you and me. Stella had given CPR and kept her alive, the paramedic was giving her a hearty thanks as they took the old lady away in the ambulance.

"Have you lost anything?" asked the policeman to Stella.

"Oh my goodness, where's my bag?" she had a look of near panic.

"Can you describe it madam?"

"Yes, black, small, fold over top with button fastener and internal zip, shoulder strap. Inside a black leather purse, my car and house keys, my ID badge."

"There's an ID badge in it?"

"Yes, from Portsmouth General Hospitals Trust."

"Your name?"

"Stella Cameron, Nurse Specialist, Urology."

He opened the bag and found the card. "It seems to be in order, your friend stopped the guy who took it, maybe she should try out for fullback now Jason Robinson has retired from the England team?" He smiled at me.

"That's my future sister in law, soon to be Lady Catherine Cameron."

"You're not related to Viscount Stanebury?"

"My dad, soon to be her pa in law."

"So you're actually Lady Stella Cameron?"

"If you must."

"Well I can see your breeding wasn't lost on you two, one catches a thief and t'other saves an old lady in the street. Maybe there is a future for the House of Lords after all."

He had a good chuckle while I blushed like a beetroot, it appeared someone had captured my apprehension on a mobile, the copper asked to borrow the phone to download it. I had just given the press free rein to go to town on me. Oh hell!"

I persuaded Stella to go and do our statements immediately, I wanted to get home and hide there. She seemed slow on the uptake.

She got back into the car in less than a good temper. "Right, now tell me the real reason why you want to run off."

"My escapade was captured on camera, so was yours. The copper only shouted out who we were. Once the press gets wind of it, they'll link with my past and we'll be under siege by tomorrow." I began to shake.

She pulled out her mobile, and speed dialled. "Daddy we have a little local difficulty."

I listened as she described what happened and then listened to her father's advice. They talked for five or so minutes. Then she passed me the phone, "He wants to talk to you."

"Hello Lord Stanebury," I said in a tremulous voice.

"Look dear girl, it's Henry, we're practically kin ya know."

"Yes, I know."

"I hear they want you at Twickers*," he chortled.

"I doubt it, if I broke a nail, I'd be livid." I tried to talk down the moment by being silly.

"You're not convincing anyone my dear girl. Go back and do your shopping, I'll leave this to our legal department to sort out, if they run a story, it will be a minimal one. So don't worry, we'll deal with it."

"But isn't that like, erm...."

"Corruption, absolutely. Don't tell the proles anything more than they need to know. Works everytime."

I wanted to say, I didn't approve, but I did. "Thank you."

"Thank you for saving droopy drawers' bag."

"She was saving somebody's life."

"I keep telling her she has her priorities all wrong, money first and second, self preservation third, then the others." He laughed after he spoke probably at my shocked silence. "I wish I could see your face, mainly because you're such a good looker, and secondly because I'll bet it's a real picture."

"I don't know what to say," I managed to splutter at last.

"Say goodbye Henry, and pass me back to bossy boots." I did as he bade me.

Stella talked to him for a few minutes longer then, rang off.

"Feel better now?"

"Dunno, this time next week, I might."

"You realised you saved, the credit card?" She said emphasising the last bit.

I looked blankly at her.

"Simon's spend me one. You know, we spend he pays."

"Oh," was all I could say.

She persuaded me to go back shopping with her, which I did reluctantly. I didn't buy anything, neither did she but we looked and then had some lunch.

We went to the police station and made our statements. Then back to the cottage. Simon was snoozing on the couch when we got there.

"Hello Sleeping Beauty," I kissed him.

"Oh Princess Charming, what a nice surprise." We kissed again and I snuggled up with him.

"Hoy, the cook is missing," said Stella loudly.

"She's on strike for better pay and conditions," I called back.

She came in with mugs of tea and we told Simon what had gone on. He sat up and asked if we'd spoken to his dad. Stella crowed with pride as she said it was the first thing she had done.

"So now we wait and see what happens. I think I'll go and lock the gate into the drive, just in case."

I adopted a very low profile for the rest of the weekend. Cooking, doing some prep work for the course I had to teach and when I had a moment, cuddling with Simon.

Suddenly, it was monday morning and I was awake hours before I needed to be. I was showered and dressed and drying my hair before seven. Makeup on, I wore the smart suit, I'd used for the meeting with the project team.

I was eating my cereal, more for something to do than appetite.

"You look nice," offered Stella.

"Thought I'd better look tidy for Dr Winthropp, or whatever his name is."

"Where do you have to go to see him?"

"The hospital."

"He's not with Dr Thomas then?"

"Not according to the note she gave me."

"Oh, fair enough. Parking is a pig, I'll give you a lift in, get a taxi to the uni and I'll pick you up on the way home."

"Girls!" Simon announced his presence. Then he broke into song, "Happy Birthday to you...." eventually he stopped assaulting my ears and kissed me, giving me a card.

I opened it, and gasped. "I can't accept this Simon."

"Why, is it not your birthday?"

"No, but this is ridiculous."

"Why have I put the wrong date on it or signed it Mickey Mouse?"

"It's for a thousand pounds, I can't accept this amount of money from you."

"Why not, I'd only have bought you a Rolex or something equally ostentatious, this way you get to choose instead."

"It's too much."

"Just stick it in the bank, if you haven't needed to spend it by next birthday, I'll have it back. How's that?"

I pouted then nodded, then kissed him, "I love you."

"I love you too, but you are far too middle class at times, far too moral."

"Isn't that a good thing?" I felt he was mocking me.

"Absolutely, but I already have a conscience if the money is good enough."

"Are you saying I'm not good enough for you?" I began to feel very undermined. "Do you want this back?" I started to take the ring off.

"No I do not, that stays there until you die, got it?" He almost snapped at me. He saw my bottom lip quiver and held me. "Cathy, you are too good for me, not the other way round. I love you and don't want to lose you. Banks operate in a twilight zone, perhaps I need some of your moral rectitude to make me human again."

"I doubt it Simon, you are one of the nicest people I know, all your family are."

"Even Monica?" he grinned.

"Yes even Monica, she was terribly nice."

He laughed and his face lit up. "Accept your prezzie in the spirit in which it was given."

"I will," I said and kissed him again.

"Another card," Stella handed me a card and a box. The box was covered in gold coloured cardboard and had a gold ribbon around the one corner. I opened it and inside, wrapped in tissue, was a beautiful silk blouse, in cream with thin gold pin stripes and gold edging on the seams.

"Oh Stella, that is so lovely. I can't wait to try it on."

"Go on then," she sniggered at me.

"We have to go, I'll do it tonight, maybe wear it if, and I repeat if, we go out."

"Yeah, it's not really yours till you get dinner on it," said Simon chuckling behind me. "I have to go kiddiwinks, see you tonight." He kissed me on the neck and left.

Not long after, Stella and I left too. The drive wasn't heaving with paparazzi, although I was so keyed up with my appointment with Dr Winthropp, I had momentarily forgotten.

As we left the car, Stella asked me to let her know what the good doctor said, I promised to text her. She wished me luck and I set off for the mental health department. What a lovely start to my birthday?

* Twickers is a diminutive of Twickenham, the home of the Rugby Union and thus English Rugby.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Comments please, they improve the story believe it or not. Okay don't believe me!

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 155

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Fiction

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Other Keywords: 

  • psychiatrists
  • referral
  • defining being female!

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

Do they really make doctors that big? How does the blood get all the way up to his brain and against gravity? Poor Cathy gets her knickers and her tongue all twisted!

Easy As Starting A Diet.
by: Angharad chocolate chomper.
part: After Eight thin chocolate mints.

I entered the automatic doors of the Mental Health Unit, my stomach started to churn. I had so much riding on this interview, my whole claim to being female. It seemed farcical, that I had to convince a man I was a woman. Oh well, if I had to convince a hungry tiger I was a cabbage to get my surgery, I would.

I showed my appointment letter to the receptionist, she logged me in and asked me sit in the waiting area. In most hospitals, you get a chance to see the clinician you are waiting for, when they come out to get their 'next one'. In this, there was a bleep and the receptionist called your name and told you to go to door number so and so. It felt more like a bank than a hospital.

I was in plenty of time, and I didn't feel like reading ten year old Sunday Times magazines, so I pulled out my Blackberry and worked through a few more functions. It was really good, I was checking my emails from Pippa, when my name was called. Of course I didn't hear it.

"Miss Watts, please go to door three, there's a good girl, put down your toys and see the doctor will you." The receptionist could obviously see me, I blushed and went to the appropriate door.

At least until that moment I had been oblivious to my worries, getting engrossed in the little electronic device. Now I hurriedly shut it away and dumped it in my bag. I didn't want him thinking that playing with gadgets was a boy thing.

My butterflies came back, a whole squadron of them and I think they might have been dog-fighting with moths or something, several were shot down in the time it took to walk thirty or forty feet to the door of the consulting room. Then there must have been a collision and the butterfly-moth exploded causing me to burp. Bloody insects!

"Come in," called a male voice from inside the room. In fear and trembling I opened the door, and stepped into the room.

"Miss Watts, do come in." He stood up and towered over me, he must have been well over six feet tall, maybe closer to seven. Did I feel intimidated or did I feel intimidated? No I was just scared shitless!

He held out a hand and it swallowed mine, well not in a literal sense, but it dwarfed mine by a factor of several. He pointed to a chair in front of his desk, hmmm, he needed barriers? Were they to protect him or me?

"I'm Dr David Winthropp, in case you didn't know, and yes I am very tall, six foot seven inches." He said smiling.

"Sorry, was I staring that much?" I blushed.

He smiled and shook his head. He was probably fortyish, greying at the temples, with a big face and large intelligent, grey eyes. he was wearing an expensive suit, I suppose he'd need to get them made for him. His white shirt was immaculate as was his Daffy Duck silk tie. It looked incongruous with his otherwise perfect appearance.

"You're staring again, tell me at what and why?" He said gently but firmly.

"Sorry," I blushed even more profusely. Talk about embarrassed, the word didn't even begin to describe how I felt.

"Please, I'm intrigued."

"Your tie...." I was tongue tied I was so nervous, "I erm...., this is so silly."

"No do go on, please, my tie is what?" He leant forward on the desk.

"Oh this is so silly," my eyes were starting to go bleary as moisture collected in them. "Your tie doesn't go with the rest of your clothes." I gabbled this out quite quickly. "I'm sorry, that's very rude of me."

He smiled a very warm smile. "Only a woman or a gay man would see that. I take it you are the former."

"Yes, I am." I decided to be decisive about that.

"But not quite a complete one yet, I understand?"

"Erm, no."

"Hence your visit here, today?"

"Erm, yes."

"Well I have to say you look every part a female to me. I love the outfit, did you choose it?"

"I did to wear today, but my fiance's sister gave it to me, she'd finished with it."

"Very nice. She has good taste."

"Very," I emphasised.

"But so must you if you chose to dress to impress me, it works, I am impressed."

I noticed he had no wedding ring on his hands, but a small stoned ring on his left little finger. I wondered. He saw me looking at his hand, and smiled again.

"Yes I am," he said.

I looked him in the eye and think I went white. This man could read my mind! Shit this was dangerous!

"The tie was a present from my secretary's daughter, and as I am going to dinner there tonight, thought I'd better wear it. Several people have noticed it as out of character, but not on first meeting. you are very perceptive of appearance and your 'gaydar' is on."

"How long have you wanted to be a woman?" he asked me after a small pause.

"Can I answer that differently, because I don't think the question is very well phrased?"

He looked taken aback at my affrontery, but he nodded for me to continue.

"Ever since I was a small child I wanted to be like my mum rather than my dad. It was only when I went to nursery and discovered that boys and girls were different, that I realised I should have been a girl. Then I wanted to be a teenage girl and finally a woman. So with regard to your question, a lot less than I wanted to be a girl. Does that make sense?"

"Perfect sense, I apologise for my poor question. How long have you lived as female?"

"Only a matter of months, six at maximum."

"That's below the guidelines, you realise?"

"Are you pointing this out so you can refuse to confirm my referral?"

"No, I'm simply pointing out the guidelines, I haven't decided what to do just yet."

"Oh," I sat and worried.

"You said you had a fiance? I presume he knows?"

"Yes, he has for about a month now. He didn't initially and fancied me as an ordinary female."

"I doubt you'll ever be ordinary Miss Watts, you make, no let me rephrase that, you are a stunningly beautiful woman."

"Do I take that as a compliment?"

"I should hope so, because as an insult it would be rather counter productive, don't you think?"

I nodded and felt a smirk happen on my face.

He looked at me and smiled back. I liked him, even though he had this huge power over me, and I could make him smile. It didn't exactly even things out, but it did give me some hope.

"Are you having sex with your fiance?"

I blushed and looking at the floor answered, "Not penetrative sex, we mess about, petting that sort of stuff."

"Has he seen you naked?"

"Yes."

"And your appendage, doesn't put him off?"

"You can't see anything, I glued it up inside me and used the scrotal skin to hide it."

"So what does it look like?"

I hoped he wasn't asking to see it, because I wasn't at all sure I wanted to show him. "It looks like a pudenda, unless you start to poke around beneath the outer 'labia'."

"Does it indeed, and you did this yourself?"

"Yes, I saw it on the net and decided that it was worth a go."

"Doesn't it hurt?"

"Initially, and sometimes it isn't too comfy when riding a bike."

"I'll bet," he said, "You cycle?"

"Yes, for pleasure and fitness."

"You won't be able to once you've had surgery, not for several weeks."

"I'll live with that."

"What if you couldn't cycle again because of surgery, would that worry you?"

"Yes it would, but I'd have to adapt, try several saddles and so on. If I still couldn't, then I'd wait and try again some time later, if it was obvious I'd still couldn't, I'd have to find another way to exercise. I'm a woman who cycles, not a cyclist who wants to be a woman."

"What if I said, you weren't suitable for surgery?"

I felt myself go red and at the same time felt cold. "I'd say you were wrong and I'd want to know your reasons. I'd also want to know how as a man you can know what it feels like to be a woman?"

"Couldn't I ask you the same question, as you don't have all the necessary bits, do you really know, or is it all about clothes and make up and sex?"

"I can only speak about how I feel. If you think it's some outrageous role play, where I get off on wearing pretty clothes and makeup, and dream about being shagged, then either I'm not communicating things very well or you have absolutely no idea of what women are about."

"As a gay man, I probably don't, so enlighten me." The eyes weren't smiling now, this was life or death stuff.

I stopped, allowing my heart which felt as if I was cycling up Mont Ventoux, to slow a little. He kept watching me, had I blown it by being too assertive?

"I don't know if I can, lots of it isn't hard data, it's almost nebulous stuff."

"Okay, try your best and take your time."

"I've never liked boys things, football and sports, until I saw a programme of cycling on telly, they showed that women could do that well too. I felt I'd like to try it. So I did, I wasn't very good and couldn't compete with men, they told me to go play with the girls."

"And did you?"

"No, least not until I was actually transitioning. I've raced once for the university against Southampton uni."

"How did you do?"

"I came sixth."

"Not bad, but then you have an advantage, men have bigger hearts and lungs, more muscle per body mass."

"I'd been on hormones for some time, so I don't think I had much if any advantage. One woman I've trained with is an international level triathlete, she left me for dead."

"Doesn't this make you a failure as a man rather than making you a woman?"

"I can see why you said that, but that is a small thing. When I think about my fiance, I feel all gooey inside and I wish I could have his babies. There is this deep longing, this yearning inside me that wants to carry his children, yet I know I can't."

"So you fancy him then?"

"Yes, it's funny because until I met Simon, well just before that, I was out with his sister and I got kissed by a man. Until then I thought I was nothing, asexual, no libido at all. Then suddenly I discovered, maybe I wasn't."

"So on the basis of one kiss, you went from being asexual to being a fully heterosexual woman?"

"No, I went from being uncertain about anything, to being even more uncertain."

He looked confused and I felt completely tied up in knots.

"I discovered I was perhaps a sexual animal after all."

"You didn't have crushes on boys or girls at school then?"

"No, I was just so uninterested it was untrue."

"And this whole thing just released it self with a single kiss?"

"No, it caused me to think. When Simon asked me out the first couple of times, I didn't want to go. I hadn't transitioned very long and was so nervous he'd find out."

"What that you were a man?"

"No because I didn't see myself as such, but that I wasn't a complete woman either."

"How did that make you feel?"

"Dreadful. It wasn't that I couldn't have sex, because I didn't want it without something more meaningful anyway."

"So he proposed and gets his leg over?"

"No, he has to wait as long as this takes. He wants me to marry him, he says he loves me. I love him and I want him so much...."

"In a sexual sense?"

"Yes, but not until I can make love as female."

"So if I say 'No, comeback in a year', he has to wait another year?"

"Yes. I won't have sex until we're married."

"Goodness! Okay, so how long will that be?"

"I don't know."

"Best outcome scenario?"

"Were I able to get this done on New Year's day, I have at least two years to go for my PhD, more likely three."

"So poor old Simon has to wait for three years, why are you bothering me now, come back in two and we'll discuss it."

"It isn't about sex, it's about me. It's about something I feel inside, my body is malformed, I need to sort it. If you won't help, I'll have to find someone who does understand. I know I'll never be female in a literal sense, but I'd like to be as near it as I can get and that means sorting my body to reflect what I feel inside.

Whenever I see a beautiful woman, I am jealous, I want to be her, to know what her body feels and how she feels, is it the same as I feel? Whenever I see a woman who is pregnant or with children, I am green with envy. I can never have children, yet I yearn for them, do you understand that? I can never have a family."

"You could as a man."

"No I couldn't. I don't want to be a father, I want to be a mother, to experience all the things about carrying a baby, feeling it kick, giving birth, watching it grow up and become a child, an adolescent and then a young adult."

"Isn't this all a bit unrealistic, even if they give you a fanny, you can't have kids."

"I know that," I rolled my eyes, "You asked me what I felt that's what I feel. Yes, I love the man who gave me this," I flashed the ring, "but as a woman. I want to look after him, and have him look after me, to share all the things couples share. Look this it is obvious that you aren't going to support the referral so why am I wasting both our times? I have loads of work to do, I could have been doing it."

"Whoa, hold your horses. Sit down Miss Watts. There are so many contradictions in what you say, that you haven't done your research in GID have you?"

"I'm a zoologist not a psychologist and no I haven't researched anything, I've told you how I felt, if that's confused, then that is how I feel. I don't believe it is black and white being male or female. I am me, that's all I can ever be and that me, is female. I'm sorry if you disagree." At this point the dam burst and the tears came.

Passing a box of tissues across his desk, he said, "That's all I needed to hear. You've got your supporting referral, even though I would have preferred a bit longer for the life test. You are a stunningly beautiful woman and it's a crime that nature didn't complete the job, let's see if the NHS can do better, eh?" He winked at me and I burst into tears afresh.

##############################################################

Comments then, how was it for you? oh that bad eh?

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 156

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Fiction

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

Everything is coming up roses, so why does Cathy only see the greenfly? Read the next exciting episode of this enthralling saga (you're not supposed to laugh! Pout!)

Easy As Falling Off A Bike.
by Usual suspect.
part, twelve thirteens (one for the trisdekaphiles)

I sat in the taxi, my mind in complete turmoil. I felt as if I'd had my soul pulled out and shoved back in. I got what I wanted, my second referral, just the last two stages, seeing the surgeon and getting it done. Shit! I was seeing him this afternoon - Oh hell, I'm still all stuck up!

I got the taxi to stop at a pharmacy where I grabbed a large bottle of nail varnish remover and cotton wool, then continued my journey to the department.

Pippa noticed my mood immediately and rushed off to make me a cup of tea. I didn't notice, I went straight into Agnew's office and sent Stella and Simon a text.

"You seem upset about something, not bad news?" said Pippa handing me my tea, "Oh and Happy Birthday." She handed me a card.

I burst into tears and she closed the door to the office, standing inside it. "Wanna tell me about it?"

I wondered if it was wise, but then surely by now the grapevine would have told her things about me, I took a long deep breath and sipped some tea.

"Have you heard the rumours about me?" I said, looking at her from watery eyes.

"I've heard some gossip, but I don't take notice of that, I go with my own experience of people."

"What did the rumours say?"

"Two things, one that you're a man, which clearly you're not, and that your boyfriend is Lord Somebody or other." She shrugged her shoulders.

"Sit down Pippa, this could take a few minutes."

She did as I asked and I told her my story, edited highlights only and now my confusion.

"Thanks for telling me, I only know the woman I'm seeing now, so as far as I'm concerned you're going for a gynae op. I think it's the right thing for you."

"I think so too, so we have a majority verdict. Must be right then." we both laughed.

"You don't have any doubts, do you?" she asked.

"No, just the trauma of having my head turned inside out. The problem is that rationally there is no justification for wanting to change my body, it's all emotional stuff. I tried to mix the two with the good doctor this morning and it seems to have upset both."

"That's a bit deep for me, I'll make some more tea."

"I'm going to pop to the toilet - might be a few minutes, so don't hurry." I grabbed the pharmacy bag and went off to try and recover something.

The place stank of nail varnish remover, and I suspect I'd stripped the polish off the floor in one or two places, where it had dripped. I got the skin free and just about managed to get all the debris off it. Then a wash in luke warm water and towelled dry with paper towels, this was like a torture. Finally, I took out the little tube of handcream and applied it gently to my now abraded skin. I tucked my bits between my legs, what shrivelled bits there were left.

It was eleven o'clock when I got back to the office for the second time. "Hi, I'll make the tea, Oh Simon rang, he said he'd booked a table for tonight. Is he the Lord....?"

I nodded.

"He sounds really nice, hasn't got a friend, has he?" she giggled as she went back to the 'kitchen'.

I looked at a few letters, but my head wasn't in it, neither was my heart. I wanted to get on my bike and ride away from everything, especially Portsmouth, and not stop until I was on another planet.

"Don't forget you have a lunch appointment, and another medical appointment this afternoon at three."

"Yeah, I know. I'm going to walk to Grainger's, clear my head a bit."

"Okay, I'll hold the fort here, there's nothing that can't wait until tomorrow. Have a nice rest of the day."

"Thanks Pippa, I'll try. I suppose so far it's been okay, just exhausting."

She smiled her response and waved as I pulled on my coat and walked out the door.

The restaurant was further than I thought. I'd never been there before although I knew where it was. I turned things over in my head until it felt as if the whole thing would become detached at the neck and fall off. I actually walked past the restaurant, jumping when someone knocked the window. It was Prof Agnew.

"Where were you going?" he asked when I joined him at his table in the window.

"Sorry, a bit preoccupied."

"Is that business or personal?"

"Personal."

"Everything okay with Simon?"

"Yes, he's as good as gold."

"And your dad?"

"Crabby as usual, but yeah."

"So is this the medical stuff?"

"Yes, I saw Dr Winthropp this morning."

"And?"

"He was nice enough, but he challenged me."

"Isn't that his job?"

"Yeah, I suppose so."

"Not having second thoughts are you?"

"No, not at all, just I feel so traumatised by it all. I feel as if I've been turned inside out."

"Oh, in what way?"

The waitress arrived with the drinks, and I had a glass of wine. We ordered, mine a tuna salad, his another curry. Predictable or what?

"I felt he was trying to get me to rationalise something which is purely emotional."

"To make sure you have thought it through?" he offered.

"Yeah, I can see that, it's just so difficult to do trying to grasp smoke or air."

"And you struggled?"

"That's an understatement, struggled, it was like knitting with water."

He chuckled at my analogy. "Did he support the referral?"

"Yes, yes he did. He's gay and I spotted it. He told me only women or other gay men pick up on it."

"Well as you're not a gay man, he got his answer." Said the professor, "What gave him away?"

"His tie." I said and smirked.

"His tie, why was it pink or something?"

"No it was out of step with the rest of his clothes, they were immaculate and his tie didn't fit. If it had, I might not have noticed, or maybe I would have done. I don't know. He was too tidy for an average bloke, and I noticed."

"Women do, didn't you know that?"

"Yes, erm no, I didn't, I only knew that I noticed these things."

"Cathy, your naivete is at times so refreshing." He put his hand on mine on the table and squeezed gently, I blushed.

"Why do I find everything so hard?"

"Do you? You are the most natural person I know, it's dealing with the schemers and plotters, the hidden agendas, the double dealers which is difficult. At times you are too honest."

"Honest, me? Ha! Look at me, I'm a walking deception, pretending to be something I'm not."

"Is this the last vestiges of Charlie, trying to cling on?"

"I don't know, excuse me." I grabbed my bag and walked quickly to the toilets, where I locked myself in a cubicle and sobbed silently to myself for several minutes.

Was Charlie fighting back inside me? Was I doing the right thing? Oh God, why do these things happen to me?

I imagined Charlie was stood in front of me, and asked him for his cooperation and help. He asked what was in it for him, and I told him nothing except seeing me happy, he would grow fainter and fainter but would never disappear from my heart, nor would I forget his sacrifice.

He looked back at me and we hugged, "Okay," was all he said and vanished.

"Are you okay Miss Watts?" called the waitress knocking on the cubicle door.

"Yes, I'm okay, I'll be out in a moment."

"Very well, I'll tell the professor."

I waited until I heard her leave then went out and tried to restore my makeup once again.

I apologised when I returned to my meal. I was glad it was a salad, only eating the tuna and the tomato. I did drink the wine, which the prof had refilled. I asked for water as well to dilute it.

"Okay now?"

"Yeah, had somethings to sort with Charlie."

"And?"

"He's okay with it."

"Good. Here's to Charlie," he said raising his glass, "A nice boy."

I felt the tears run down my face again, and nodded my agreement.

"He was the cygnet from which the beautiful swan is emerging, his sacrifice was inevitable, he was incomplete a stage in your development or evolution. He knew that, which is why he's gone, his part is fulfilled, his legacy is your freedom. It was his decision as well as yours.

Each decision we make has consequences, they follow each other like day and night, intertwined in spirals of life, each affecting the other."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wow! Heavy or what? I thought this was supposed to be a romantic comedy? Where are all the jokes? Complaints to, I mean comments....

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 157

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Fiction

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Other Keywords: 

  • blood and lust in the afternoon!

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

"So what do you think of Mr O'Rourke then?"

"He's very nice," I allowed.

"Only very nice, haven't you fallen in love with him yet?"

"I love someone else, but I fell in lust within twenty seconds." I joked.

She laughed, "I thought this blood felt hot." She continued removing it from me and labelling the little vials. "So you're Stella's little sister?"

Easy As Writing two a day.
by: Verbal Diarrhoea
part 100 + Heinz.

I left the restaurant at half past two, the professor and I talked about many things, most of then concerning me. He tried to reassure me that everything was going so well, except my father's attitude, in which case he'd just have to lump it. Had I got to such a state that I couldn't see all this?

It appeared I had, was I becoming a depressive? Oh boy, I thought of Mary and felt a shudder. Depression wasn't catching was it?

"Come on I'll give you a lift to the hospital," said Prof Agnew and we set off towards his Landrover. The ancient four wheel drive clanked into life, it was so noisy, it was impossible to have any sort of conversation, so he was unlikely to be done for using a mobile phone whilst driving.

He dropped me at the main entrance and I looked over the plan to find the Department of Urology, so this was Stella's realm, bladders and prostates and the rest of the urinary apparatus. Fancy spending all your time looking at men's, oh gross! Well okay, Simon's was rather nice, but it did come with the rest of the package. But then, worse, dealing with women's ugh!

I was glad I wasn't a gynaecologist either, mind you, I'd have had difficulty operating on myself anyway. Obstetrics, they could be fun, helping folks make babies, but then I remembered, I'd need a miracle rather than an obstetrician.

"I have an appointment to see Mr O'Rourke," I told the receptionist.

"What's the name please?"

"Watts, Catherine Watts."

"What time was it?"

"Three o'clock."

"Please take a seat, he's running a bit late."

I sat down on a scruffy plastic stacking chair, designed to give work to the spinal surgeons. I pulled out my Blackberry to check my emails.

"Catherine Watts," a nurse in white top with red edging and red trousers called my name. I stood up, and walked towards her, closing down my little electronic wonder. "Are you Stella's sister in law?"

"Nearly," I said my answer being multi-levelled.

"We all like Simon, he's such a brick. What a lovely suit?" She led me into a consulting room with desk, computer and examination couch, a screen to obstruct views from the door, and a second room or cupboard off to the left. "Have a seat, someone will be with you in a few minutes."

I put my coat over the back of the chair, this time a slightly more expensive stacking chair, but padded enough to be comfortable for up to half an hour's sitting. A bit like some bike saddles I'd encountered.

Stella had told me this guy looked like George Clooney, which could be true or he might look like Shrek, Stella and her jokes. Quite honestly I didn't care what he looked like if he could do the job I wanted him to do, and she seemed to think he could, as did my shrink.

"No sugar in mine," said a voice that came louder along with the soft footsteps of rubber soled shoes. "Hi, You're Cathy, Oi'm Mike O'Rourke," this was accompanied by the most amazing smile I think I've ever seen. It was an Irish George Clooney, with a slightly deeper voice and sparkling blue eyes.

He was talking but I wasn't taking on board the words, I was simply looking at this beautiful man in front of me. He suddenly clapped his hands.

"Cathy Watts, you have not listened to one word Oi've just said, have you?"

"No sir," I blushed.

"Why not?" continued the soft brogue, I felt all woosy inside.

"I was thinking of Dr Thomas."

"Why wouldya be t'inking of her now?"

I shook myself and tried to concentrate. Thank goodness, I'd be unconscious when this demi-god was playing around with my genitals, otherwise I'd be asking him to road test it before I left the theatre.

"It was her who referred me, with a supporting referral from Dr Winthropp."

"D'at was t'day?"

"Yes," I checked my mouth in case I was drooling. Those eyes were dancing a tango with me.

"Right, so you're Stella Cameron's sister in law?"

"Not until you correct the plumbing," I smiled, "but that is one of the desired outcomes."

"Well you certainly look d'part. Oi am obliged to ascertain d'at you understand what's involved, and for me own satisfaction, to ensure you are truly transsexual."

"I'll do my best," I smiled at the twinkling eyes now doing a samba.

"Okey-dokey, how long have you t'ought of having a sex change?"

"Since I discovered girls and boys were different, and mine were the wrong ones. Since I was about four or five, although in those days, I believed if I wished hard enough, they would change spontaneously. They didn't."

He smiled. "So plan B?"

"Find a nice, understanding surgeon, who can do it for me." I gave him my best smile, usually reserved for Simon.

"Roight, assume ya just found him, what d'en?"

"To convert what I have into something more appropriate for my life style, and which I hope will allow me to live fully as female."

"You realise d'is involves cuttin' off bits, which won't grow back."

"God I hope not," I shuddered at the thought.

"It's amazin' what some people t'ink."

"Basically we remove most of d' penis and your testicles, create a cavity and turn it into a vagina, we then use part of d'penile tissue to make a clitoris. Until Oi've examined ya, Oi can't be sure how we'll do it."

I nodded, wondering when that delight would happen.

"Oi can't guarantee anyt'ing, because even your own body parts can be rejected, and d' transplanted clitoris, doesn't always give you much sensation. D'ere can also be urinary problems as well wi'd d'e operation."

"I appreciate that Mr O'Rourke," I kept it respectful.

"Okey-dokey, let's have a look d'en. Hop on d'couch, skirt up an' panties 'n any toights, down." As I was undressing and hopping onto the couch, he called in a nurse, who stayed out of the way but was I suppose a chaperone protecting both of us.

He pulled on some latex gloves, like the ones I used in my lab, why did that surprise me?

Then he began pulling and prodding my genitals about, feeling the area behind my genitals and infront of my anus. It suddenly occurred how different things were going to be. Cycling could prove to be uncomfy for a bit.

"Okey-dokey, d'ere is just about enough tissue t' do it, I mioght have t'graft skin from elsewhere if d'ere isn't."

I nodded, although I think he was talking to himself as much as me.

"Roight, if ya loike to get dressed again," he went off and I heard the removal of rubber gloves and washing of hands.

Dressed, I returned to my seat, he took his the other side of the desk. He pulled out a photo from my file, and showed it to me. I blushed.

"How on earth did ya do d'is t'yerself?" he asked.

"With superglue." My throat felt very tight and dry.

"Whoy fer goodness sakes?"

"To hide something I was ashamed of." I hung my head and stared at his shoes.

"Cathy, please promise me ya won't do d'is again, if ya do, Oi won't have enough skin to work wid, you understand?"

I nodded, "I'm sorry."

"D'at's alroight, it looks quoite convincin'at a glance."

"Oi have to ask again, are ya sure, ya want me to do d'is to ya?"

"Yes I am."

"Roight, we need to do some bloods, are you havin' or had sex recently wi'd anyone?"

"I'm still a virgin," I blushed, God it was hot in there.

"Good f'you," he smiled, "Oi knew Oi'd meet one oneday." He started to chuckle and so did I.

"We test everyone for HIV and Hepatitis, and we swab for MRSA. Oi've done yer groin, Oi need to do yer nose." With that he wet a swab and gently poked it up my nostrils.

"Assumin' all is well, Oi'll expect t'see ya on New Year's day." He looked at my notes, "Oh, Happy Birt'y. Wait outside, 'n d'nurse'll do yer bloods."

I thanked him and we shook hands, he winked and said quitely, "Oi wouldn't ha' known until y' dropped yer panties. Oi'll do me best for yer."

"Thanks."

I waited for only a few minutes before the same nurse came and led me into a different room and took half the red stuff I had circulating around my body.

"So what do you think of Mr O'Rourke then?"

"He's very nice," I allowed.

"Only very nice, haven't you fallen in love with him yet?"

"I love someone else, but I fell in lust within twenty seconds." I joked.

She laughed, "I thought this blood felt hot." She continued removing it from me and labelling the little vials. "So you're Stella's little sister?"

"No, I'm her brother's fiancee."

"Ah, sister in law."

"Not yet," I insisted.

"You will be, she doesn't give up once she's fixed an idea in her head."

"I'd have thought, that was for Simon and me to decide."

"You have a bit to learn regarding Stella, Cathy, she always gets what she wants."

"Well that is mutual, so I don't foresee a problem."

"You are so fortunate."

"What with Simon, I know, he's lovely."

"So is all that money, and a title. Wow, talk about the jackpot!"

"It may sound odd, but I find the money an obstacle rather than an incentive and titles are anachronistic. Have you ever heard Stella use hers."

"You strange girl." She shook her head at me, and walking off said, "If you go back out into the waiting room, I'll tell her ladyship, we've finished with you."

"Okay." I pulled my jacket back on, making sure the plaster stopped any blood getting on my sleeve, not that there could have been much left. Since when did they collect it in buckets?

"Hi Sis," came a familiar voice somewhere behind me. Once more I put away my electronic toy.

"C'mon girl, we've got to beautify ourselves and paint the town red."

"I think a shade of pink would be sufficient for me Stella, it's been a long day."

"It's your birthday, we can't let that pass without a celebration."

I'd have preferred a quiet night in with a nice book or a cuddle with Simon, or both.

"Where are we going?"

"Home you silly goose."

"No tonight?"

"God knows, and I hope Simon does too, 'cos he's arranged it."

"If he's done anything stupid like a kissogram, I will kill him."

"Oh, I'm sure you'll forgive him eventually."

"Oh geez, he hasn't has he?"

"I don't know, he's organised it. Just be thankful he remembered, he usually doesn't."

I thought back to the last night out with the demonic siblings, I hoped they wouldn't drink as much tonight. I really did.

We had a cuppa and a biscuit, then went upstairs. Stella helped me decide what I was going to wear, a greenish floral patterned shirt dress, with a collar and dropped waist. It made my hips look bigger and gave me some extra shape. I opted for black shoes and a small bag which nearly matched them. I would use my pashmina instead of a coat.

I showered and washed my hair again, glad to wash away the cares of the day, emerging a little refreshed. Stella was doing my hair when we heard Simon come home.

"Hi girls, everything okay?" he poked his head around my bedroom door.

"Yes, shouldn't it be?" asked Stella.

"Of course, but only because I organised it."

"You couldn't organise a pair of clean underpants." She retorted.

He blew her a raspberry and left. Shortly afterwards we heard the shower running and I felt Stella sniggering.

"What have you done?"

"Wait and see," she sniggered.

"S-T-E-L-L-A!" boomed his voice, "Where are my underpants?"

"I thought you were organising them."

"What have you done to them?"

"We've only just come in, wasn't us." She was sniggering almost to giggle point.

He came in wearing just a towel, "Okay, you've had your laugh, where are they?"

"It's not my problem," she shrugged.

"You can borrow some of mine," I offered and his expression just set us off giggling even more.

##################################################################

The comment collector is round again, please leave them here for her.

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 158

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Fiction

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Other Keywords: 

  • Dresses
  • dances
  • dinners
  • embarrassment
  • newspapers
  • birthday cakes
  • death threats.

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

"Well borrow some of mine."

"Don't be ridiculous, you are several sizes smaller than I, so if I did borrow them, I'd end up singing bloody soprano. Besides what if we had an accident? No thanks, I'll stick with the chaffing."

"I'll kiss it better for you." I said suddenly realising what I had said.

"You'll what?" His face positively lit up.

Easy As Falling In Love.
By: Shhhhhhhhhhh you know who.
part: 13.17 dozen.

"What have you done with them?" Simon fixed the giggling Stella with an icy stare.

"They're in the wash."

"What all of them?"

"All except the ones in the freezer!" That set us both off again. It was cruel really, but I had now caught infectious giggles from Stella.

"Sod you then, I'll do without." Simon turned smartly and went to leave the room, when Stella grabbed the towel and his bare buttocks were exposed. Actually quite nice buttocks, we both wolf whistled, well sort of, it's difficult to whistle and giggle at the same time.

I checked my makeup, as Stella finished my hair, we both had to touch things up, the tears of laughter smudging things a little. Then some smellies and my mum's jewels and we were ready.

Simon walked down the stairs a little awkwardly, I tried my hardest not to giggle. Stella just lost it and nearly fell down them after him, she was laughing so hard.

"Bitch!" was all we heard as a response, yet we knew there would retribution, even Newton knew about equal and opposite reactions.

As far as I was concerned, the joke was over and I wanted to make my peace with Simon, he wasn't too interested. "Her I understand, you I am very disappointed."

"Ooh Simon lover, don't be cross with me, I didn't know about it until you were caught by her, and it was funny."

"The fact that this bloody zip is chaffing the skin off me, isn't bloody funny."

"Well borrow some of mine."

"Don't be ridiculous, you are several sizes smaller than I, so if I did borrow them, I'd end up singing bloody soprano. Besides what if we had an accident? No thanks, I'll stick with the chaffing."

"I'll kiss it better for you." I said suddenly realising what I had said.

"You'll what?" His face positively lit up.

"Erm is it time to go yet?" I said picking up my pashmina.

We ended up at the Yacht Club, they had a dinner dance on, and who should be waiting for us, but John, as in Stella and John. She seemed as suprised as I was.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded of him.

"Simon invited me, why? Oh happy birthday Cathy," he passed me a card and small present.

"Thank you John," I pecked him on the cheek.

Stella and he went off while she presumably got the thumb screws out and tortured him for not telling her. A waiter led Simon and me to our table. He ordered a couple of bottles of champagne.

"I got your first text, how did the second quack go?"

The music was quite loud, so I had to lean over and shout in his ear, "It was okay, he thinks he has the technology to rebuild me," I smiled parodying the Bionic man, or Six Million Dollar Man, whatever it was called. It would probably cost him that to get his teeth fixed these days.

Simon smiled and nodded, good. "Once you are healed, we are going away for a holiday."

"Are we?" I said whilst thinking, don't I get a say in anything?

"Assuming you want to go of course," he must have read my expression better than I thought, or it was a lucky guess. On the other hand,
maybe he's psychic? Nah psychotic maybe , not psychic.

John and Stella arrived back just in time for the champers to come and we each had a glass. Of course they had to toast me, God, I was embarrassed, but nothing compared to what happened later. If I had known that I'd have died.

Simon disappeared ostensibly to go to the toilet, he'd wondered if a condom would help. Seemed a good idea, two might be even better in the protection stakes.

"Have a good day so far?" John shouted over the noise.

"Tiring but satisfying."

"Has the Echo been to see you yet?"

"What about?"

"Being a one woman crime catcher."

"They haven't run anything have they?"

"Yeah, a short piece entitled, 'Lady Cate catches robber', or some such rubbish, and a picture of you with a dormouse? Is that right?"

"Oh no! I'll never live this down." I felt physically sick. I should have let him take Stella's purse.

Simon came back and I asked him if he'd seen the echo, he shook his head, but he'd organise a copy for tomorrow. I did think about looking on line, but I'd left the Blackberry behind.

"Does that feel better?" I asked Simon.

"Loads, why?"

"I was worried about you."

"What in case I took you up on your very generous offer?"

"No," I lied and blushed at the same time, more multi-tasking."I worry about you."

"Oh!" Now he blushed.

"Cor, thanks a lot!" I humphed and sat with my back to him.

I felt his hands on my shoulders and he kissed my neck, I melted. "Come on let's have a dance."

He led me off to the dance floor and we smooched to a slow one. "Can you ballroom dance?" he asked.

"Not really why?"

"Just follow my lead," he said and kissed the side of my neck. He apparently then did a slow waltz with me, without stepping on my toes once - I did his several times, but he didn't complain.

We did two or three dances and then the dinner gong rang, and he escorted me back to our table.

It was a set menu, Stella cussed because there were no scallops - you'd think she was paying for it!

I didn't, I tucked into my French onion soup, my fillet of sole, and raspberry roulade, then coffee and mints.

We were just enjoying the afterglow of a reasonable meal when the DJ walked up with his radio microphone. I assumed he was coming to see someone, he was me!

"Ladies and gents, we have a birthday girl here today, who has also just got herself engaged. Before I ask everyone to join me in singing happy birthday to Cathy, I suddenly realise where I've seen her before, she's on the front page of the Echo, our very own crime fighting dormouse queen, soon to be Lady Catherine Cameron."

"Stand up," he hissed at me off mike.

'Fuck off!' I mouthed back at him and smiled a completely false smile.

"Stand up or I'll make it worse for you!"

"Fuck you!" I snarled as I reluctantly stood up.

"Please do," he smiled back. "Wave to them," he hissed, so I did. The whole room applauded and then the bastard launched into "Happy birthday to you...." and to make things worse, the maitre de brought in a large cake with candles on.

I felt like running away, instead I glared at Simon, who shrugged then grinned.

I felt like shoving the cake in his face, Stella was smirking.

Then I had to ceremonially blow out the candles, then they all sang, 'For she's a jolly good fellow,' I tried to cringe under the table.

Just when I thought it couldn't get any worse, I was presented with a huge bouquet of flowers by the Commodore of the yacht club.

All night, I had people come up and wish me happy birthday, or congratulate me on my engagement and ask to see my ring. I wished I'd left it at home and brought my Blackberry.

Afterwards when Simon dragged me back to the dancefloor, the bloody DJ played the anniversary waltz. What was so embarrassing was the rest of them cleared the floor while Simon whirled me around with a fixed smile on my face.

Several times, people called out, "Lady Catherine," or "Look this way Lady Cate," each time there were flashes of digital cameras.

"I am going to kill you when we get home, and your father is next on the list - leave it to me he said, we'll get them to keep it to a small story! It's on the front fucking page!"

"I'm sure it's a very nice photo," he said and shrugged his shoulders.

"What happens if someone from the uni says anything?"

"We brazen it out."

"Can't we run away now?"

"What and leave your professor in the lurch?"

"He'd understand."

"I thought you were made of sterner stuff Cathy?"

"Yeah but they're cutting it off in three weeks."

Simon chuckled, "Come on," he said, "Eat drink and be merry, for tomorrow we deal with scraping the shit off the fan!"

He held me closely and kissed me on the neck, and we danced like Fred and Ginger, that's Fred Astaire and a ginger snap biscuit!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Don't forget the d'comments or d' dormeece gets it!

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 159

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Fiction

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

"Why have you bought cat food?" asked Stella, "We don't have a cat."

"It was on special offer." I said defensively.

"We still don't have a cat."

"So, if ever we do, we have food."

"It can eat dormice, there's a hedge full of them out there," countered Stella.

Author's note: Version one was lost during posting, thanks Bill, I'll kill you later!

Easy As Falling Off A Bike.
by Angharad the Angry.
part:159.

Simon pulled in at supermarket, some of them stay open all night. I dashed in and saw they still had some of the evening papers. I grabbed a handful and a can of catfood.

The woman on the checkout, saw the five papers and gave me a peculiar look. "The cats like to read something when they're eating." I offered superfluously.

"Why can't they share one paper then?" she shot back.

"Can't have that, they are so spoiled, each one has a separate litter tray with wash basin so they can wash their paws."

She looked at the paper and then at me. "Here, that's you in the paper. Hey girls we have a real live celebrity, here in the shop. Lady Muck crimefighter and dormouse lover."

I blushed and pulled the purse out of my little bag. I slapped the five pound note in her hand and pushed past the group of store workers.

"Lady Catherine, you forgot your change."

"Piss off," I growled, as I nearly trampled a young couple who were coming in, an echo of cackling followed me from the store.

"I shall never shop here again," I said slamming the car door.

"Why, what happened?" asked Simon.

"Cheeky bitches!" I fumed.

"Report them then."

"Let's just go, take me home please Simon," I pleaded.

He was ready to go and play hell with the store's duty manager, and I suspect the woman would have lost her job. Maybe she deserved it, but I doubted she was there for the social life. I would just avoid adding to their profits in future.

Simon took us home, and I placed my purchases on the kitchen table.

"Why have you bought cat food?" asked Stella, "We don't have a cat."

"It was on special offer." I said defensively.

"We still don't have a cat."

"So, if ever we do, we have food."

"It can eat dormice, there's a hedge full of them out there," countered Stella.

"Well you can have it for dinner tomorrow, I'll make cottage pie."

She groaned and Simon, who was reading the paper said casually, "I like cottage pie."

"Aaarggghhhhhh!" yelled Stella going off to make tea.

Simon and I went into the sitting room. "Nice picture," he said.

I was about to interrupt when he added, "You can see why they call her Spike," I threw a cushion at him.

I sat down with the paper, 'Lady Catherine Catches Crook' said the headline, I groaned inwardly. The story had to be awful too.

'22 year old Catherine Watts, soon to be Lady Catherine Cameron when she marries her fiance Lord Simon Cameron, son of Viscount Stanebury, caught a bag-snatcher whilst Christmas shopping with her sister in law, Lady Stella Cameron.

According to eyewitnesses, an elderly woman collapsed with a heart attack, and Lady Stella, a nurse specialist, rushed to attend. While she was saving the elderly woman's life, a sneak thief, attempted to steal her handbag. Unknown to him, Lady Catherine tailed the offender and apprehended him with a rugby tackle. Community constable, PC Bob Dixon, who was nearby at the time completed the arrest. A 25 year old man has been charged with theft.

"I told her she should try for the England fullback position now Jason Robinson has retired," joked PC Dixon, "Was as good a tackle, as I've ever seen on a rugby pitch."

"I seen the whole thing," added Kevin Merchant 24, "I seen the bloke running away, and this young woman chasing him, then she jumps on his back and knocked him down in front of the copper. I think she was lovely, she could tackle me any time. I filmed it all on my mobile, but the police have lost it."

Asked what he thought of his soon to be daughter in law, Viscount Stanebury said, "We are enormously proud of Cathy and look forward to having her join the family. She has loads of bottle, and as a racing cyclist, is very fit. The thief would never have outrun her."

Lady Catherine, is a leading researcher at Portsmouth University, and is helping to run the forthcoming mammal survey of the United Kingdom, one of the biggest projects ever to look into populations and global warming, then in two years time, it enlarges to include the European Union, which will be the biggest European survey of all time. Portsmouth University will be leading the survey coordination.

Lady Catherine is also, one of the world's leading experts on dormice, which she breeds at the university, for release into the wild. The picture shows her with Spike, one of her breeding females.'

"Leave it to me," said your dad, "they have a bloody quote from him."

"It is a nice quote though, he is immensely proud of you," said Simon, before I threw another cushion at him.

"I'm still deciding who I shall kill first," I said, "you or your dad."

"Gee thanks, some reward for organising a birthday treat," said Simon his expression very down.

"If that was a treat, I'd hate to see what you'd do if you didn't like me."

"How was I to know the DJ had seen the Echo and was going to recognise you, I was up in Town."

"He was still going to embarrass me, singing bloody birthday songs, and what about the cake and the flowers? You organised them didn't you?"

"Prince Phillip and Dad are the patrons of the yacht club, so when I phoned them up, I asked them to make it a memorable evening for you."

"Oh it was that okay, I shall have nightmares for years to come."

"You can never please some people."

"Going for a meal down the pub, would have been sufficient, staying home and me cooking us a dinner would have been enough. I don't need to be spoiled."

"I like to spoil you," he said and kissed me, "Especially on your birthday."

"Teas up!" yelled Stella, just as life was getting interesting, she'll have to go.

"Can't you pay her to marry John?" I asked quietly.

"The bank only has about a hundred billion, it won't be enough!" he shrugged his shoulders.

"I heard that, I know you two are plotting, bloody Batman and Supergirl. The caped crusaders, ha!" She slammed down the teas and went back to the kitchen.

"I'm developing a nervous tic, living with her," I joked.

"You are, imagine what it's like after twenty seven years of living with Tigger."

I liked the analogy, I could see Stella bouncing up and down filled with enthusiasm, 'cos that's what Tiggers do best'.

"What did he say?" asked Stella returning with her tea and the paper.

"He was saying how much he'd enjoyed living with you?" I tried to say innocently.

"Usually he only says things like that when he's thinking of getting rid of me."

"Who me?" said Simon.

"Did he tell you he tried to have me sectioned one year, because he wanted his girlfriend to stay.?"

"Oh come on Stella, it was a joke, I was only sixteen at the time. You did get your own back."

"What did she do?" I asked, they were serious practical jokers.

"Tried to enlist me in the Parachute Regiment. Dad had to sort it out, she got a bloke who looked a bit like me to go in and sign up, he'd been practising my signature."

"Yeah, but then you forged a letter from me to the Pope, saying I wanted to join a nunnery and take holy orders."

"He wrote you a nice letter back," beamed Simon.

"I'm going to bed, don't forget your knickers are in the freezer or they could be a thaw point tomorrow!" With that Stella wandered off to bed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The comment fairy will be around, don't disappoint her, she reports directly to Santa!

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 160

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Fiction

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Other Keywords: 

  • Dormouse / Dormice / Dormeece

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

She sat quite happily in my hands for the CCTV, there were offers of a DVD for anyone who needed it for a TV station. Of course the photographers came up and started snapping away. Spike did not like the flashes and began to get agitated. I reached for her box and as I did so, she shot out of my hand along my sleeve and down the neck of my blouse.

Easy As Feeding A Donkey Strawberries.
by: Her wot writes 'em.
part: 2xtriple twenty & double tops = erm!

My birthday ended with a kiss and a cuddle with Simon, although because of the surgeon's advice, something had to be left dangling, I very much kept my knickers on. When he fell asleep, I slipped back to my own room and bed. I had loads to do and needed to get some rest.

Tuesday morning arrived and I dressed casually, for work then had a text message as I was about to leave from Pippa.

'Press r here, ring me, Pip.'

My stomach flipped. Stella and Simon had gone to work already, I had little option but to call Pippa.

"Hello, Professor Agnew's Office."

"Hi Pippa it's me." I could hear voices in the background.

"Can you hear the noise?"

"Yes, what should I do?"

"Don't ask me, speak to Prof Agnew or the Dean. I just thought I ought to warn you."

"Yes, thanks. I'll text you back when I decide what to do."

"Okay Mrs Smith, she is very busy at a meeting at the moment, I don't know when she'll be in again...." Obviously Pippa must have been in a position to be overheard and pretended to talk to someone else. She was good at her job.

I dialled the professor's home. No answer then ansafone. I decided to leave a message. "Sorry to bother you Prof, but we have rather a lot of the press at the department following the article in last night's paper. Should I go in and face them or lie low? Advice please."

I then tried the Dean's office, he was constantly engaged. I decided to go and face them, but first a quick makeover. I ran up to the bathroom and stripped off my jeans and top, put on some makeup, not a lot but enough to make me look half tidy. Then I grabbed a blue suit and a white blouse, and some fairly low court shoes. I kept the jewellery simple and then called a taxi. I didn't want them recognising my car. It was going to be expensive, but probably worth it.

I packed up my lappy while I waited, I looked more like a civil servant than an academic, I wanted to look professional but not sexy just in case there were cameras about. One photo had got me into enough trouble. The sun was shining and I got my sun glasses from the car. I heard the car approach and pulled on my coat.

The taxi driver pulled up outside the department, there were quite a few bodies milling around plus a van with BBC on it. Oh hell! I pulled my hair back into a pony tail and slipped on a scrunchy.

The taxi driver noticed me, "They waiting for you, or something?"

"Fraid so," I adjusted the scrunchie, the pony tail high on my head.

"Was that you in the paper last night, caught the sneak thief?"

"Fraid so."

"You gotta get through that lot?" he indicated the throng blocking the doorway.

"Yes, no, take me round the block will you, there's a side entrance."

He did and although I was spotted, I was in the building before anyone could get to me. I virtually ran to my lab, almost knocking Neal over.

"Hi Cathy, how did you get past the lynch party?"

"Side entrance, can't stop need to call Pippa." He nodded and went off.

"Hello Professor Agnew's Office."

"Hi Pip, it's me I'm down the lab."

"How did you do that Mrs Smith?"

"A secret map and a good compass, oh and the side door."

I heard her chuckle, "Professor Agnew will be here for a press conference in one hour. So I should wait till he gets here Mrs Smith."

"You think I should stay here for the moment then?" I repeated to her.

"I think so Mrs Smith, the professor won't be long."

"Where are they holding the press conference?"

"In lecture theatre three."

"Okay, thanks Pippa, sorry I left you to deal with it all."

"It's my pleasure Mrs Smith, maybe next time." She put the phone down and I wondered what the last bit of the message was about, and decided it meant nothing other than the pretend conversation.

I went and looked at the dormice, Spike was pleased to see me, well she was for the Brazil nut - tart! I wondered if I should produce her for the press conference, if the Professor wanted me to attend, and her too. I just thought, she would steal the show, an exhibitionist dormouse, whatever next?

Some ten or so minutes later, my phone rang. "Cathy, how are you?"

"I'm fine," I lied, I'd been to the loo twice.

"Okay, this is what we're going to do......"

"Should I bring Spike?"

"Great idea, see I left a place for you to make a contribution, as I knew you would."

"I have a suit on, is that okay, or should I wear a lab coat?"

"What make it look as if you've just been interrupted dissecting dormice?"

"Okay, I'll leave off the lab coat."

"Look as sexy as you can, I don't want anyone questioning what you are, other than a beautiful young woman. Is it the same suit as you had on yesterday?"

"No."

"Pity, because you wore that one for the government visit." Yes and the bloody photo that's caused all this.

"You know the staff entrance to the lecture room?"

"Yes Prof."

"I'll go in the student entrance, which should draw off the hounds while you sneak in like a technician."

I agreed and we arranged to meet in twenty minutes. I had just about enough time to go to the toilet another fifteen times before then.

I slipped out of the labs and down the corridor carrying my favourite rodent in a small darkened cage. Actually, it's a perspex box with air holes in it and a carry handle. I had a supply of nuts with me.

There was hardly anyone at the tradesmen's entrance, just a technician in a lab coat, who passed me as I got to the door. I slipped it open and went in. Professor Agnew emerged from the door to the podium a low murmur following him in. He closed the door.

"Not as sexy as before, but it will have to do, let your hair down girl."

I untied it and brushed it out.

"That's better. The Dean should be here in a moment or two, he is going to chair it. There will be nothing personal asked, except the robbery and the forthcoming marriage. I'm afraid that's already in the public domain. So what we try to do is to hi-jack it for free publicity for the project."

"Okay," I agreed shaking from fear. "Thanks for coming in and taking over."

"It's my job and allows me to show off my department and my life's work, also one of my very talented team, who is also so beautiful she will captivate them all."

I began to blush and looked away, "Not you, the bloody tree rat," he said and roared with laughter.

Dr Andrews arrived and the murmur if anything was louder than when Agnew had come. "If you're ready, lets get it over and done with. Oh by the way Cathy, you and Spike have appeared in about twenty newspapers here and on the continent, and led to a hundred enquiries by young women thinking of doing biology or zoology, since last night.
If we handle this well, there could be another thousand by the end of the week."

"How many do you usually get?" I asked.

"One or two from girls, more from boys."

"Coo!" I was overwhelmed, were people that ill informed, or just looking for inspiration? Obviously, they thought it was all about wearing YSL suits and handling dormice! It isn't, this suit came from 'Next'.

The Dean went out and was greeted by a round of applause. He asked for the noise to be kept down as I had brought a dormouse with me, who could actually die from fright. It would probably be true for most of them, but not Spike. She'd performed at a conference of six hundred delegates who cheered and clapped her. She just chomped away on her brazil nut, unconcerned, while I held her and kept my buttocks clenched. Gosh, I was multi-tasking even before I transitioned. I tried not to laugh, I was in danger of wetting myself.

"I should like to introduce Professor Tom Agnew, who is head of this department of Zoological science and leader of the Mammal Survey of the UK and eventually Europe. This is an enormous honour for the university and is only possible because of the reputation of Professor Agnew and his team, which is internationally renowned.

Finally, I would like to introduce Cathy Watts, soon to become Lady Cameron, a postgraduate member of the team, with responsibility for collating data on rodents, and one species in particular. I think without any shadow of a doubt, she is one of the world's leading experts on the common dormouse, and she has brought along one who is called 'Tyke' I believe. She is also now well know as a local crime fighter." A ripple of applause went around the room.

Agnew grabbed his sleeve, a roar of applause errupting as I stepped onto the podium. The Dean did his best to quieten things down.

"I stand corrected, our esteemed colleague's name is Spike." He chuckled and the room rumbled with laughter. I slipped a Brazil nut into the box and tiny pair of hands accepted it.

Tom Agnew and the Dean fielded most of the early questions, which were about the project. I was invited to comment on two, which related to the problem of global warming and rat populations.

"There is anecdotal evidence to suggest that numbers are increasing with environmental change. But whether the two are related, we don't know for certain, which is one of the reasons for the survey, remember as well that we are changing the environment with development through increasing populations of humans, with all the complications that brings -food production and waste disposal, plus places for them to breed more effectively. Rattus norvegicus is a very successful and adaptable animal, perhaps second only to some insects, oh, and humans."

Then one about dormice, which I answered without being to technical. I'd forgotten all this was being filmed until I was asked to show them Spike.

We have a CCTV system worked by a technician, so I could hold her on the table top and she would be seen on a large screen behind me. I carried the box over to the bench. I'd used the system before, so it wasn't too worrisome. Of course I got a round of applause for just walking across the podium. Spike was still munching, she was practically bomb-proof and I loved her to bits.

She sat quite happily in my hands for the CCTV, there were offers of a DVD for anyone who needed it for a TV station. Of course the photographers came up and started snapping away. Spike did not like the flashes and began to get agitated. I reached for her box and as I did so, she shot out of my hand along my sleeve and down the neck of my blouse.

The laughter was deafening as I felt the little furry body working its way down inside my blouse towards the waistband of my skirt. The technician came to assist, I grabbed the moving lump and he then held it while I turned away from the tittering crowd and reached inside my blouse and grabbed our escapee. To make life even more embarrassing, she peed while she was in there.

Finally, the Houdini of dormice was safely recaptured and after being put back in her box, Dan, the technician took her into the prep room.

Once the rumpus died down and I returned to my seat, the Dean asked if there were any further questions. A hand shot up, a woman journalist near the front. "When are you and Lord Cameron getting married?"

"We haven't set a date, we're both very busy and haven't had a chance to sort it out yet."

"When did you decide to catch the purse snatcher?" called a man from the back.

"I didn't really think about it, I saw him grab Stella's bag and move off, and I just chased after him. I think he saw me, so I had to try and stop him. I just jumped on him and he fell over."

"Are you going to play ladies' rugby?"

"I don't think so." I smiled back blushing.

"Was it Lord Cameron who was shot by poachers a while back?"

"Yes we were out surveying the dormice, I do regular checks on numbers and weights of individual animals."

"So this survey work is potentially dangerous."

"All field work is. In the dark you can fall into holes or over tree roots, into rivers and so on. We do have guidelines to minimise risk and fieldworkers are expected to gain a knowledge of their site in daylight if they do night work. Also no one goes out alone, and they have emergency equipment which they are trained to use."

"Viscount Stanebury said you were a race cyclist, who do you ride for?"

"I have ridden for the university once in a friendly, I don't race for a club at the moment, not enough time to get race fit." I was praying the Dean would call a halt.

"Did you enjoy your birthday party at the yacht club last night?"

"Yes thank you." What a silly question I thought, then realised it was the DJ, he obviously worked for a radio station as well. He winked at me and I blushed.

"Right that's it ladies and gents, I think Cathy and Professor Agnew have been very helpful, not to mention Houdini the dormouse." There was a round of applause.

A man about twent eight or thirty ran to the podium and accosted me. "Hi I'm Des Lane, I'm an independent film maker who does stuff for the BBC natural history unit, I'm interested in doing a film on dormice for them. Would you be prepared to help, there'd be a consultant's fee for you or the university, not a lot but a couple of thousand I expect, depending upon how they want to do it. Personally, I'd love to see you present it."

"What do you mean?"

"You know do a David Attenborough, help me write the script then film it then do some bits walking about the countryside while reciting the script."

"Gosh, I don't know. I don't know if I'd have time. Can I get back to you Des?"

"Yeah course," he handed me his card, "Check with them, the Beeb I mean, I am kosher, and I think it could do lots for your survey."

"I'll need to speak to my Prof."

"Okay, thanks for your time, give me a ring anyway, especially if you're ever in Bristol. Oh, I cycle too."

"Who was that?" asked Agnew.

"Some film maker chap, with the BBC natural history lot."

"And? God it's like pulling teeth!" he said exasperatedly.

"He wants to do a film on dormice and he wants me to help him, including presenting it."

"What about this project and the little matter of a doctoral study?"

"If I handled it correctly, the film could become part of both."

"Cathy, you're a hopeless romantic, be careful you don't over commit yourself, and remember you're going to be unavailable for a couple of months from January."

"Yes, I hadn't forgotten." I became aware of the cold air on a wet patch on my blouse. I loved that little critter, just couldn't think why?

*************************************************************

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 161

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Sequel or Series Episode

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Other Keywords: 

  • Dormouse / Dormice / Dormeece

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

"Only because I recognise suitable habitats, but the vandals who farm these days, with their bloody flail cutters, make it harder and harder." I was on my soapbox. Normally, Agnew would light the blue touchpaper and enjoy the fireworks, but in front of Pippa, the Dean was not going to let that happen.

Easy As Falling Down A Hole.
by: her, that's the one.
part: the latest one

Managing to contact her mother to look after her children for lunch, Pippa agreed to accompany the Dean, Prof Agnew and yours truly, to lunch. Amazingly the Dean agreed to treat us, Tom Agnew nearly fainted. "Thirty bloody years I've known him, first time he's ever paid for anything, I'll bet the university is paying," he mumbled, "Tight as a duck's arse."

We went by taxi to a pub half a mile away, we could have walked there, although the time factor was something which was against us.

The dining room of the pub, was clean and welcoming and I was torn between a jacket potato and a salad, either with Tuna of course. In the end I opted for the salad, Pippa had one too, Dr Andrews had chicken Kiev, and predictably, Agnew had his curry. Maybe biologists are boring?

"Well that was a good morning's work," said the Dean, "you all handled it really well."

"David Attenborough here," Agnew nodded at me, "wants to make a film about bloody tree rats."

"Squirrels?" asked the Dean looking mystified.

"No, her ruddy dormice."

"Why not, could get all of us lots of publicity."

"Haven't you had enough?" I asked, because I had.

"Can't have too much. Do you realise how many prospective students who'd never heard of Portsmouth University before, are now thinking of coming here, especially females."

"They all want to hunt dormice!" winked Agnew, "make fur coats."

"Don't listen to him, Cathy, if it wasn't for Daubenton's bat, he'd probably be working in Tesco." Dean Andrews smirked and Agnew shot him an evil look.

"That sounds interesting," offered Pippa, obviously waiting for more.

Having heard the story before, I tried to put her off. Thankfully, she caught my eye. "So, how many applications will you get from all this?" I asked changing the subject.

"Far too many, but the more we receive the more we can look at getting funding to improve and expand our departments. Sadly, chemistry and physics are the victims, their numbers seem to be falling, which is a pity because we still need those disciplines to help us understand everything else."

"So the dormouse thing has helped then?" asked Pippa.

I nodded, but in mid munch was too polite to say anything. Tom Agnew wasn't. "Yes, I have to admit that Cathy's vermin have helped raise the profile of the department, and the university."

"Yeah, how about we have a rampant dormouse on the university's logo?" I mocked.

"Or someone wearing a dormouse fur coat," countered Agnew.

"Can't they're protected, I mean, even that foreigner in Tring, is protected." I snapped back at him, he loved verbal sparring, it had taken me nearly two years to appreciate it.

"Who's that?" asked Pippa.

"Rothschild," quipped the professor.

"The edible dormouse, Glis glis." I explained, "A different species introduced in about 1902. Native of Italy, it's protected too both here and in Italy, they still eat it there, albeit illegally."

"Introduced by Lord Rothschild, to Tring Park, as Cathy said, about the turn of the last century, apparently they escaped from the house and now occupy the surrounding countryside," added the Dean.

"They're not as interesting as the common ones," I opined.

"Are they common then?" asked Pippa.

"No and getting scarcer," I informed her.

"You seem to be able to find 'em alright," Agnew said to me.

"Only because I recognise suitable habitats, but the vandals who farm these days, with their bloody flail cutters, make it harder and harder." I was on my soapbox. Normally, Agnew would light the blue touchpaper and enjoy the fireworks, but in front of Pippa, the Dean was not going to let that happen.

"I think farming and the effects on wildlife is fascinating, but now is not the time and place to debate it." So saying he closed down the subject and Pippa looked almost disappointed.

"I'm learning such a lot from you three brainboxes, I'm a real townee, wouldn't recognise a dormouse if I fell over it."

"Sounds like you need Cathy to introduce you to Spike," said Agnew chuckling.

"Our show stealer," laughed Andrews.

"I hope they got that bit where she hopped down your blouse on camera." Agnew and Andrews were now laughing enough to draw attention from other tables.

"What?" gasped Pippa, so they recounted my failure as a mouse trainer interspersed with pauses for helpless laughter. I blushed like a toaster and unconsciously felt that the wet patch on my blouse was now dry and stiff.

"The dormouse went down your blouse?" she asked looking at me. I nodded.

"You should sent it to that TV show that uses clips like that, it could win you a couple of hundred," said Pippa.

"I'll bet Dan has already done that," I thought was a reasonable response, still feeling rather warm despite it being winter. This was not helped by my consumption of a glass of Chablis, well I wasn't paying for it.

"I'm thinking that I'll detail someone else to teach that school stuff Cathy, how do you feel about it?"

Relieved was probably the main emotion but I was waiting for the other shoe to drop. "Why do I think there could be an ulterior motive here?"

"You can do some extra tutoring and project work, especially if you're going to be replacing David Attenborough."

"Ooh a real celebrity!" squeaked Pippa, "Just think in a few years time, I'll be able to watch your documentaries and when the titles show, no pun intended," she giggled at her own joke, "I'll be able to say, Lady Catherine Cameron, I know her."

"The acceptable face of dormice," said Agnew, then catching Andrews' eye, the two cracked up again.

"Bah!" I said sounding like a depressed sheep.

"They're only jealous," comforted Pippa.

"Wait till the posters and leaflets go out."

"What!" I gasped, "but we hadn't agreed on that, had we?" Obviously he decided we had. "I'm far from happy about that."

"Sorry Cathy, executive decision."

"You sound like George Bush invading Iraq," I said which I knew would annoy him, we'd both marched in the anti-war demonstration in London.

"Not at all," he shrugged it off, "With the newspapers gobbling up the story, we went ahead using the same photo, to maximise it's impact. You are officially our page three girl."

At this Andrews choked on his wine and sprayed it all over the floor, he began coughing and went very red. This was not helped by my response.

"I see so for the next one, you want Spike and me posing in just bikini bottoms?"

"Good idea, now you're thinking," teased Agnew. Andrews nearly expired and even Pippa choked on her drink.

The taxi back was relatively quiet, I felt sleepy as I always did after drinking at lunchtime. "So are you back to work now?" I asked Agnew.

"I supose I'd better stay this afternoon and see what mess you two have made of my office. Mind you this one makes a mean cup of coffee, better than you." He indicated Pippa then me respectively.

"I don't make you coffee," I said indignantly, I was about to say, I'm a research scientist not a bloody lackey.

When Agnew ended the conversation with, "See, no respect for an old man. Good job you were there," he said patting Pippa on the knee and she wasn't moving it away. Hmmm!

==================================================================

Comments please, let's see how many we can get this time? Or of course you can always send a donation to Erin for her new server.

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 162

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Fiction

Genre: 

  • Romance

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Other Keywords: 

  • Viagra
  • bicycles - mentioned.
  • Dormouse / Dormice / Dormeece

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

"Don't worry Cathy, I'm too bloody old anyway, I'd probably need Viagra which would give me a heart attack, and serve me right. So, then you'd have to run the project on your own and I couldn't leave you to do that."

"Thank you for that," I smiled back.

"Well I don't want it cocked up, do I? My reputation is riding on this."

Easy As Falling Down A Lift Shaft,
by: Gravity Girl
part: (32ft/sec)squared.

We got back to the office and Pippa went off to make coffee and tea and I followed the professor into his office. "Nice girl," he observed of his temp secretary.

"I think she is married," I said and looked away.

"Don't worry Cathy, I'm too bloody old anyway, I'd probably need Viagra which would give me a heart attack, and serve me right. So, then you'd have to run the project on your own and I couldn't leave you to do that."

"Thank you for that," I smiled back.

"Well I don't want it cocked up, do I? My reputation is riding on this."

"Gee thanks, and there was me beginning to think you cared."

"Well if you can't look after a bloody field mouse...."

"Dormouse, please!"

"All bloody vermin," his eyes were twinkling and I kicked myself, he'd done it again.

"You are a tw.." I was interrupted by Pippa entering with the drinks.

"There are loads of phone calls, some of them are about dormice, there's one from Simon saying, 'He saw the clip with the dormouse and was on his way to help you find it.' One from Des Lane, saying 'He has an outline proposal which the BBC seem happy to go with.' Someone wants you to do a talk to a school, and take a dormouse if you can. There are one or two from other universities as well regarding the project. I'll type them all up and you can decide who deals with what."

"Just like old times, eh Prof?" I smirked, "Being bossed around by a woman."

"Don't you start, you're not practising the black arts on me, so you'll be an expert by the time you get married. Practise on Simon, then he'll have a chance to protect himself."

"Huh!" I pretended to be ignorant of what he was saying, "Li'l ol' me, black arts?" I batted my eyelids at him.

"Bugger off!" he said back, "Go and do some work."

"Yes boss, straight away boss, what would you like me to do?"

"Go and feed those tree rats of yours," he waved me away.

"Der's more dan tree of dem," I said in a poor Irish accent, and he spat coffee all over his desk. At this point I fled, taking my tea with me.

Spike was fast asleep, doubtless exhausted from this morning and her ordeal with the cameras and my deodorant. I examined my blouse, there was a definite stain, I hoped it would wash out, bloody dormice!

Dan had left me a DVD of the dormouse episode, yes it was as awful and funny as I dreaded it being. Oh well it will get replays all around the world, whenever I do a talk or give a paper, I'll be the woman the dormouse hopped down the blouse of. Still if it stops them thinking, I'm the transsexual who had a dormouse looking for my nuts! Oh God, I hope no one thinks of that - I'll just curl up and die.

I was doing some emails when Pippa came down to my lab. "I've brought you your list and some more tea. I've never been down here before, can I see the dormice?"

"I don't know, you have to be vetted by the RSPCA and the college ethical committee, these are extremely valuable animals who are kept in a sterile environment, so they are uncontaminated by humans."

"So that's a 'no' then?" she shrugged.

"Don't be silly, just joking. They're probably all asleep, they're nocturnal, and the only one who is used to handling is Spike, the one who starred in the press conference this morning."

"Did it really jump down your blouse?"

I nodded, "Not only that but she left me a little message too," I showed Pippa the stain. She of course laughed and I made a thing of frowning.

"If you're not careful, I'll tell her to attack. One of the technicians only has three fingers, where she savaged him."

Pippa looked at me as I told this blatant lie, it was total nonsense but she wasn't sure about it at all. Dormice can nip you, but I haven't met a carnivorous one yet.

When I took Spike out, Pippa was a little nervous about holding her. "Here, give her a hazel nut, she'll be too busy to eat you."

"She is so small, I always thought they were bigger. Ooh she's tickling my hand. Coo, look at her tiny little hands."

People who are not familiar with animals which have hand-like paws, many of the rodents do, holding food up to their mouths like we do, so all sorts of anthropomorphic comments get made. And yes dormice are very cute, unless you get some of the edible ones in your house and they eat through your wiring or strip wallpaper, then householders don't find them quite so cute. Mind you that's only near Tring, elsewhere you have to rely on grey squirrels do do it, or the odd house mouse or even a rat. Would people make such friendly comments if the animal sat on their hand was a brown or black rat? I very much doubt it.

Spike made short work of getting at the kernel of the nut, and I put her back in her cage, she felt quite fat, she should be on her diet, I would be!

I held the empty shell for Pippa, "See the way it's rough on the outside edges and smooth inside?"

"Oh yes,"

"A fail safe way of identifying dormice in the area."

"Really?"

"Absolutely, here you can have that, show it to the kids, now you're an expert."

"I don't think I'll ever be that," she said blushing, "and having seen you in action, I know I won't."

"What do you mean?" I was puzzled.

"I saw the video of you talking to the press, you're a natural."

"Natural what, though, that's the question?"

"Don't keep on about that, it's being sorted. You should be on telly doing animal programmes, like what's his name Attenborough?"

"Yeah, someone said that this morning."

"Des somebody or other, he's phoned again. Wants you to call him urgently."

"What for, most sensible dormice are fast asleep in hibernation now. So he can hardly film them, they sleep half the year away."

"What about, Spike, is it? How come she doesn't?"

"She's adapted to living in an artificial world where there is plenty of food and constant temperatures, she wouldn't survive in the wild, too imprinted on humans."

"So are all these here for their naturals?"

"The ones in here are, but the babies they have we move and they are handled as little as possible, and allowed to act naturally. They have been going out into a site which lost its dormice about four years ago. They've been doing alright for the last two, plenty of food and cover, as long as we don't have any weasels or squirrels find 'em, they should do okay."

"Squirrels kill dormice?"

"Grey ones will and eat small birds or steal eggs. Real pests, but very cute looking ones. But then so are deer, they can damage trees and eat as much grass as a sheep. Bambi is a pest in numbers."

"I'd never thought of it like that, gosh working here is so interesting."

"It can be, sometimes it's boring too, like dealing with Grumpy's project. I'm a field biologist pushing bits of paper around." I shrugged my shoulders, the project was after all a huge fieldwork exercise.

"Can I ask you something?" Usually when someone asks that they want to know about me. I prepared myself for an embarrassing question. I nodded. "Can I bring my kids in to see the dormice one day? They'd love it."

I hope my sigh of relief wasn't too audible, "Yes of course you can. Have a look at the rota, and when I'm in on a weekend, come in then. If Spike is okay, they may be able to have her sit on their hand, that's when they remember."

"Oh great," she said exitedly, "thanks so much for the guided tour."

Part of me felt good, I love showing off what I do, but I also love showing people the animals that they never see because they aren't looking for them. When you see their faces light up, then you know they've really learned something they won't forget. Oh they'll forget the data I give them, size 6-9cms, weight, that sort of stuff, goes in one ear and out the next. But they remember Spike sitting on their hands, and it tickled.

I picked up my list of jobs. I dialled and held the phone to my ear, "Hello, can I speak to Des Lane? Yes, Cathy Watts from Portsmouth Uni. Thanks I'll hold."

I listened to the overture from the Marriage of Figaro, I'd heard worse on phone lines.

"Hello, Des Lane here."

"Hi, it's Cathy Watts, we met this morning."

"Oh yeah, great you could call back. Can we get together sometime? When I saw my overlords at the Beeb, they were excited by the campaign you're going to be running and think it's a brill idea to have you fronting the prog."

"They do?" I croaked in shock.

"Yeah, I showed them the DVD your technician did, which is brilliant plus the film I shot, for their news bulletin. I'm afraid you're gonna see that dormouse hop down your jumper a bit longer yet, it's on the news tonight."

"I'm not doing fancy tricks with them, if that's what they want they can prosecute someone else. I've got a licence to handle them. They're protected you know."

"Don't worry Cathy, I know. Look can we get together sometime?"

"Yes, I'll be in Bristol on friday."

"What this coming friday?"

"Yes."

"Wow, ask and it shall be given," he said to himself. "Fancy a bike ride?"

"What sort of bike are we talking?"

"Road, MTB, unicycle....."

"I'll settle for the first if that's okay, I need the exercise."

"Okay, I'll look forward to it. Wow!"

"I'll call you thursday evening or friday morning." I offered.

"Great, yeah, great." He sounded so excited, couldn't think why.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Comments please!

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 163

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Sequel or Series Episode

Genre: 

  • Romance

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Other Keywords: 

  • students
  • beef stroganoff
  • no cycling yet.
  • Dormouse / Dormice / Dormeece

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

"From tears? I don't think so. But if I was in your position, I think it might be nice if someone simply held me for a moment, just so my body knew I wasn't entirely alone." He allowed me to hug him and he sobbed in my arms, I wanted to cry too.

Easy As Falling Off A Kite.
by: Angharad
part 163

Simon and Stella teased me rotten when I got home, I'd asked her to pick me up. It got so bad that I threatened not to cook dinner if they didn't behave, which just meant that everytime I went into the sitting room from the kitchen, they both sniggered. I was in half a mind to poison both of them.

I did a stroganoff, and while it and the vegetables cooked, I sorted some more emails. I had another one from the bloke in Bristol, 'Looking forward to seeing me again.' I wondered if he was as interested in dormice as he was in me? If so did he know something from my past, well I spent quite a lot of time there, and until very recently, it was all as a boy.

If he did his research, or somebody at the BBC did, they may find that my degree at Sussex, was awarded to Charles not Cathy Watts. I had contacted them, and they had agreed to alter it, but I knew they'd have more important things to do, and it would take time.

We ate and drank a bottle or two of red wine, it always leaves me feeling heavy, so I only had two glasses, the rest being diluted with lemonade. Then it was straight lemonade on the rocks! I'm such a hardened drinker, I thought a screwdriver was something for putting screws in things and Tequila sunrise, is something that happens in Mexico every morning.

Simon was merry and fell asleep on the couch, Stella helped me, or rather she tried to help me clear up, but she actually got in the way more than assisted. I sent her off with a flea in ear, assuming she could locate her ear, which was doubtful as she'd missed her mouth twice and had gravy and red wine on one of her favourite tops.

She finished her meal sat in her bra, the top was in the wash - we needed to do one anyway, and Simon kept sniggering at her. I sat in the kitchen, the sound of the dish washer and the washing machine was preferable to Simon's snoring, which sounded like wild boar on heat - probably regulo five!

Stella went to bed before the two machines finished, I left the dishes but took the laundry out and folded or rolled it. I was too tired to put it in the tumble drier tonight.

I think Simon spent most of the night on the sofa, from the noises he was making it sure wasn't the tonic sofa! I went to bed and read for a bit, I was asleep by eleven. I was awake early too.

I had woken to hear Simon staggering up the stairs sometime in the middle of the night. I simply turned over and zonked again, until I had the dream.

I was back in school and handling a pet rat I had in those days, when it hopped down my jumper. It was in front of an audience of the entire fourth form, about a hundred and twenty kids.

I appeared to be doing a talk on rats, or keeping them, mine was a lovely champagne colour called, Goldie. She ran up my arm when someone frightened her and hopped down my jumper. I should have been wearing a shirt and tie under my sweater and a blazer on top of that. Instead I was wearing an open necked dress under a cardigan, the girls' summer uniform.

Suddenly, someone noticed, "Here sir, Watts is wearing a dress and his rat's gone down his bra!" This was followed by noisy laughter and the rat bit me on the breast. Yes I had breasts, and it hurt, then I saw the blood spreading over my dress and screamed in horror.

I woke up sitting bolt upright in my bed with sweat pouring off me, and it took a few moment for me to orient myself. Had I screamed? I couldn't hear any movement outside my door, so the inebriate siblings were still asleep. I went for a pee and eventually fell asleep again, hoping it was just my own cooking that was the problem.

Stella called me, just before she left, Simon had gone already How could they manage it? They'd drunk enough to float a battleship and were fully functioning, I was still sleepy and had drunk very little, it seemed ironic.

I showered and dressed, and after a piece of toast and a cuppa went to work. Agnew was already in. I checked my watch, I wasn't late, I began to wonder if the clocks had changed last night, but knew they hadn't and mine was showing the same time as everyone else.

I spent half an hour with the prof, he assigned me a group of first year students to tutor in a group! Oh boy anarchy will reign, maybe I could go sick, yellow fever! Yeah that's it I'm too yellow to face a group of first years. I had to see them this morning, oh shit!

"You are a household name Lady Catherine," said Pippa when she brought in a coffee for his nibbs and a tea for me.

"How do you figure that?"

"Seen this?" She handed me a copy of 'The Sun' with a caption of, 'Now you see me - now you don't.' There were three photos, one of me holding Spike, a second of Spike running up my arm, and the third of the tail and hind legs disappearing down my blouse. In the Mail, it was, 'Ready, steady, gone!'The Guardian, described it as the,'Disappearing Dormouse trick,' 'Don't try this at home kids, they are a protected species and need a special licence to handle them, or in the case of Dr Watts, wear them!' The Daily Express had a further picture of Dan the technician helping me to remove Spike, captioned, 'gotcha.'

The same pictures were in most of the London papers, the tabloids all called me Lady Catherine, the Guardian called me Dr Catherine Watts, and the Times called me Lady Catherine Watts. The Independent, didn't mention the story at all.

We had calls about cruelty to hamsters, hamsters I ask you! The RSPCA were visiting my unit this afternoon - who invited them? Somebody wanted to know if the dormouse was real, and another wanted to hire me to perform for their kids party. The last one had the professor and Pippa almost on their knees laughing. I enjoy a joke but this was fast becoming unfunny.

I finished my tea and the mince pie, Pippa had brought from home. Maybe I'd make some of those for Dad, when I went home on thursday evening.

I had arranged with Agnew to finish on lunch time on Thursday, I usually take stuff with me anyway, and as I was meeting this film maker bloke, he thought I deserved the time off, he also asked me do an extra tutorial with a young man from the first year that afternoon. "He was doing very well, but we think he has some issues he's not telling us about. He was seeing Dr Perris as his tutor, but I wondered if your lighter touch might get answers quicker."

Dr Perris was a cold fish, which was his specialty, sea fish. He'd worked at Southampton for some time helping with their oil spills team, studying the effects upon fish stocks and so on. He'd managed to transfer a grant from the government to continue his study on breeding stocks of fish and environmental change, from Southampton to Portsmouth. As there was money on offer, Andrews grabbed him with both hands. He could be a bit gruff by all accounts, and maybe frightening for younger students, especially girls.

I went off to do my group tutorial, there were six of the monsters waiting for me, two boys and four girls. I was in jeans and trainers with a polo-neck jumper and cardigan.

"Hi I'm Cathy Watts and I'm going to be doing this group for the foreseeable future." That was a lie, because I wouldn't be with them after Christmas, but they didn't need to know that.

They introduced themselves, Tim, Ivan, Siobhan, Louise, Sharon and Lesley. They seemed a nice enough bunch, although we had to get the disappearing dormouse joke out of the way.

All of them were having a slight problem with course work, in particular practicals. We spent an hour running over dissection of the rat and it's anatomy. If only they knew how squeamish I was? I hated chopping up things that resembled animals, once they'd been made small enough to go under a microscope, I could play all day.

It turned out two of the girls had similar problems, the boys were either thick or lazy, probably both, and the other two girls didn't like their lecturer. Takes all sorts I suppose.

I ate a sandwich while doing some more emails, another of Pippa's lists which Agnew had delegated to me. Thank God we weren't doing an entomological survey, with my luck I'd get to supervise beetles, of which there are more species than any other group.

I was still busy at the 'puter when there was a knock at the door. For some reason I didn't remember my afternoon tutorial, I was so involved in sending snotty replies to stupid professors in different universities, of which Oxbridge seemed to have their share.

"What now Pippa?" I growled and turned around to see a trembling student.

"Lady Catherine?"

"Dat's me, who are you?"

"Steven Naylor, I was told to come and see you."

I looked blankly at him, "Why?" Then my brain cell fired, "Tutorial?"

"Yes ma'am."

"My students call me Cathy, are you a Steve, or Steven or Stevie?"

"I like Stevie," said this very quiet almost mouselike voice.

"Shut the door and pull up a seat."

He walked over to me and gave me the limpest handshake I'd ever had. It made mine seem butch.

"Tea?" I asked and made us each a cup. "Okay, I hear you're having problems with keeping your work up to scratch?"

"Yeah, it's nothing, it'll pass."

"But you won't according to the marks I was shown."

He went pale and looked at the floor. I gave him a few moments. "I'll be okay, I just got behind a bit."

"Why was that?" I was trying to give him a chance to open up.

"It's personal."

"Okay."

"Is that all you're going to say, okay?"

"Yeah, if it's personal, it's personal. I can get the thumbscrews and rubber truncheon if you like."

"I'd prefer you didn't." He blushed.

"So would I. They made me clean the blood up last time."

"Ugh," he answered. We paused for a few minutes and I decided to test some hunches.

"So how long have you known?" I asked him.

"Known what?" he said.

"About yourself?"

"Jesus, is it that obvious?"

"What's his name?"

"Fuck! How do you know?"

"Have you had blood tests done?"

"I'm scared." I watched tears roll down his face.

"So would I be."

"They say you used to be a boy, is it true?"

"What do you think?"

"I don't know, I can recognise another gay from across the street, but you seem to be giving out straight girl vibes. You're also too pretty to have been a boy."

"Nah, that's just the makeup."

"You're not wearing any, are you?"

Oh shit, I'd forgotten to put any on I was in such a rush. "So are you going to tell me about it?"

It turns out that Stevie is gay as I suspected and has had a fling with a sailor, who has now gone back to his ship and someone told Stevie, the guy has HIV. How did I know, I didn't, it was a guess.

"How did you know?"

"Female intuition, I don't know, it struck me as a possibility and I tested it."

"They say women are good at picking up on gay men."

"I suppose you're quieter than most young men of your age group. Also you didn't make any comments about me or my juggling trick with a dormouse, which the papers liked. It was at a press conference."

"I didn't see it."

"So are you feeling ill?"

"Not really just shit scared."

"They have counsellors at these clinics."

"Yeah, I know but how can they prepare you to die. I'm too young, I'm only eighteen." He sobbed and I moved to hold him.

"Careful, you don't want to catch anything," he snapped pulling away.

"From tears? I don't think so. But if I was in your position, I think it might be nice if someone simply held me for a moment, just so my body knew I wasn't entirely alone." He allowed me to hug him and he sobbed in my arms, I wanted to cry too.

I held him for a few minutes before it suddenly occurred to me that Stella may be able to help him. "I have someone who works at the GU unit. Like me to give them a call?"

"I dunno, once they test me, if it's positive, my life is over."

"No it isn't, with the drugs they have now, you'll be able to live a normal life for years."

"I won't be able to have relationships, huh! Relationships, first one I have and it fucks me up big time." He sounded angry now.

"Until you have the tests, you won't know. So you're running around in circles. If you have the test, it might be negative and you can just get on with life as before." I felt like saying, but use protection.

"Would you like me to come with you?" I offered.

"I dunno, dunno if I'm gonna go yet."

"If you wait until you get ill, it's probably going to make things harder, surely the thing to do is to deal with it as soon as possible, and that's assuming you are positive. It might just be malicious gossip." I almost said, you know what gays are like for that. Thank God I didn't.

"Would you come with me, to the clinic I mean?" he asked.

"I said I would, so yes I will."

I made the appointment there and then, for tomorrow afternoon - my early finish! Oh bugger, but I suspected Stevie's need was greater than mine. And I thought I had problems.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Post a comment or we send the dormice round - not the cute ones, the house destroyers!

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 164

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Sequel or Series Episode

Genre: 

  • Romance

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Other Keywords: 

  • Dormouse / Dormice / Dormeece

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

Easy Come Easy Go.
by: she's gone!
part:100 plus 4 cubed.

The drive home was subdued, I decided I'd better visit my rooms and check any mail. There was a handful, I snatched it up and chucked it in my bag. I decided that the next time I was there I'd need to clean out the fridge. I took my wet weather riding gear too, the forecast was not good, and it had already become colder in the last day or so.

I was tempted to take my MTB to Simon's too, but decided there wasn't room in the car and I wasn't going to take wheels off, it was too cold. I grabbed a few more things and left.

It was sleeting when I drove home, and my mood remained subdued. Stella asked me what was wrong, but I couldn't tell her. Her department and the GU clinic are different although, the clinic may refer on to Urology.

We went for a meal, Simon was stuck in London on business, so Stella and I drove to a local pub. I was still in my jeans, and no makeup. Okay so my overall bodyshape was female-ish and I had long hair.

"Cathy, seeing you without makeup, reminds me of the first time we met. You've come a little since then, my girl."

"Yeah, it's all your fault," I joked.

"Omigod," she said, "I created a monster a la Frankenstein."

"Yep, soon to be the Bride of Frankenstein." I said giggling.

"Hey that would be a good theme for the wedding, when you have your op, I wonder if they can stick a bolt through your neck."

"Eh!" sometimes she was weird and sometimes she was very weird.

"Well, we could get it gold plated."

"Are you mad or just stark staring bonkers?"

"Maybe silver would look better, could do it in solid silver."

"Earth to Stella, no one is sticking anything in my neck. Marrying into your family is going to be crazy enough."

"Yes, quite possibly. we're distantly related to the old Queen Mum, something about descendants of MacBeth, the real person not the Shakespeare character."

"Oh well that explains the lunacy," I said casually, "next time I hear you saying, 'Out damned spot, out I say!'I'll...." There was a round of applause from others in the lounge bar. I blushed, bowed and sat down quickly. I hadn't really realised that I'd stood up to do my Lady Macbeth.

"You've done that before, haven't you?" she gloated.

"In school. We used to read bits of the plays to get a feel for the words and their meaning. We had a good English literature teacher. She used to make us take all sorts of parts, so although I went to a mixed school, she picked on me to read Lady M., one of the girls did Macbeth."

"And..."

I blushed thinking back to the memory, "I apparently did so well, she made me read it all the time, well with the help of a large group of my class mates who thought it was good fun to belittle me."

"Looks like you had the last laugh," she said smiling.

"Yeah, I suppose it does."

We ate, I suspect it doesn't take much to guess what Stella had for her meal, scallops? Yep, and I had a tuna pasta bake. I must get checked for mercury poisoning one day.

"So you're off early tomorrow?" she said as she finished her meal.

"Sort of,"

"You haven't got yourself lumbered have you? You said you wanted to get finished to drive up in daylight."

"I promised someone a favour."

"Not that old grump of a professor?"

"No a student. He has to go to the hospital and has no one to go with him."

"So he asks Auntie Cathy to go with him, poor widdle boy."

"Not quite, he could have a life threatening complaint." I was in danger of saying too much and Stella given half a scent would be off on the trail like a bloodhound.

"What's the problem then?"

"I'm not sure, but it sounded pretty awful."

"Tell me then," she commanded.

"Can you give me chapter and verse of your patients today?"

"Don't be silly, I'm obliged to maintain confientiality."

"So am I with student information."

"Well you're hardly identifying them are you?"

"Not if I don't say anything at all, no."

"Spoilsport!" she poked her tongue out at me. Then she smiled, "You are absolutely right not to say anything. What time is the appointment?"

"Stella, I am not saying any more period!"

"Talking of which, I have mine, just going to the loo." She disappeared and I paid the bill ordering two coffees while I did so.
Back at our table, I remembered my post and pulled the sheaf of envelopes from my bag.

Most of it was the usual stuff, do I want a double glazed credit card, for which I'd won a new BMW if I would only ring this premium rate number for two and half hours at four pounds a second, it would be mine. There was letter from an old friend who wanted to visit Portsmouth - oops, that could be awkward. A letter from Mr Potter thanking me for helping his daughter with her assignments, which was most unexpected, plus twenty five quids worth of Marks & Spencer vouchers. I didn't know if that constituted bribery or what? I'd have to check.

Stella came back and thanked me for the coffee. "What ya doing?"

"I called by my room, lovely, my student loan statement."

"How much do you owe?"

"About eight grand."

"Not too bad then."

"Not if you say it quickly."

"I'm sure Simon could get the bank to do it for less."

"It's okay, I can do things for myself. He already gave me a thousand pounds, this week, remember?"

"He's got plenty."

"Stella, it is okay. I am capable of looking after my own debts, end of conversation." I felt quite angry, I know she was trying to help, but spending other people's money and meddling were not things which I enjoyed in others.

"Okay okay, I get the message."

"And you are not to tell Simon, okay?"

"You make your rules, I'll make my own." She said quite sharply.

I shook my head, if he did anything, I would insist he took it back or he'd get a ring he'd never be able to wear, and neither would I again.

I opened the last letter, it was from Mary's mother.

'Dear Cathy,
I have learned a great deal more about what happened that fateful day and more about you. I think you are a very courageous young woman and I wish you every happiness in your new life, especially in your forthcoming marriage to Lord Cameron. I'd be pleased if you could come and see me before you get married, please don't leave it too long, remember I am getting on a bit.
yours sincerely,
Cynthia Mallory.'

I showed the letter to Stella, "Who is she?"

"Mary's mother, the woman who was shot by the copper."

"Oh her, oh right. So how does she know you?"

"I went to see her at the funeral, pay my condolences, you know."

"Oh right, and..."

"We hit it off and I walked her back to her car."

"Just like that?" she made a Tommy Cooper gesture as this was one of his catch phrases.

"More or less." I shrugged my shoulders.

"Cathy do you realise the gift you have?"

"What gift is that then?" obviously I didn't or I would have known, wouldn't I?

"This ability to put people at their ease, you should be working with people not bloody dormice, who only jump down your cleavage and pee on your best blouse."

"I am quite happy with my dormice and remember I do work with first year students too."

"Taking them for medicals."

"Stop fishing."

"St Catherine," she said smuggly.

"Well at least we have wheels in common, only mine are on a bike."

The conversation petered out and we went home. Simon texted to say he wouldn't be home, I sent one back reminding him I'd be away for the next two nights. He sent one back, it was just four letters beginning with 'D' and ending with 'N'.

I slept well and was up with Stella, I was in work before the nutty professor, and drinking my tea when he arrived.

"I don't pay you to drink bloody tea, go and make my coffee," he ordered.

"Bugger off, I'm still in my own time, make your own."

"Okay Miss Watts, but don't say I didn't give you a chance to avoid it."

"Avoid what?" I asked but he'd gone to the kitchen.

He declined to tell me anymore so I assumed he was pulling my leg. We spent the morning sorting out admin stuff, having got well into it before Pippa arrived, apologising that one of her kids was sick and she had to wait for her mother to come.

The joys of parenthood, which were never likely to happen to me. Oh well back to work. I went off to my lab with a list of things to do and finished them just in time for Stevie to arrive.

"Ready?" I asked.

"I dunno, I'm frightened," he said.

"So am I, maybe you'd better give me a hug to comfort me."

He smiled and squeezed me half to death.

"C'mon, let's do it." I said thinking of the final moments of the Butch Cassidy film. I found out later that it didn't happen, when I saw a documentary on him. He didn't look like Paul Newman either!
I suppose Thelma and Louise would be more my style, but Stevie might have found it insulting.

We parked up and I paid for two hours. Then we walked into the clinic and waited for twenty minutes. It was a pleasant enough place, but I couldn't help thinking about the numbers of people who'd been here and received bad news. The place felt heavy in atmosphere and I couldn't wait to get away.

Stevie was eventually called and I went outside for some fresh air.

"If that's your girlfriend, we'll need to speak to her as well," said the nurse counsellor.

"She's my tutor at uni, I don't have girlfriends, I'm gay."

"Oh okay."

I wandered about for an hour, the light was fading fast and the trip to Bristol was going to be horrible, there was talk of sleet and snow showers with drifting on hills.

I'd packed my walking boots, and over trousers and in the cupboard in my lab, I had one of those folding shovels, sort of military type. I'd grab it when I took Stevie back.

He appeared with red eyes. I didn't ask why, I knew. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I have to go back in two weeks for the results."

"Want me to come?"

"Could you?"

"I suppose so. Yes, of course I can," I had no idea whether I could or not, I just decided I would.

He hugged me again, "Thank you so much Cathy, you're like a big sister to me."

"Hang on a minute, if that were the case, I'd have to buy you a Christmas present. No way Jose!" I winked.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Allay my paranoia leave a comment!

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 165

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Sequel or Series Episode

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Other Keywords: 

  • Interviews with the press
  • vehicle fire
  • life saving
  • cake making.

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

I ended the call and managed to get past the tanker. It was a pyrrhic victory, because once past him I couldn't go much faster, the sleet was thickening to snow, just what I needed. I noticed that the concentration of seeing where I was going and keeping the speed and direction safe, was making me grasp the steering wheel much harder than usual. My wrists were aching, and I relaxed my grip, but a few minutes later, I was doing it again and the tension across my shoulders was aching too.

Easy As Falling Off A Bike.
by Angharad
part 5x33 (well ya gotta keep your brains active, especially reading this mush).

"Why did I have to study so far from home?" I said to myself as I tried again in vain to overtake the milk tanker. It was still sleeting, and making visibility worse than usual, but the car was warm and I had all the emergency things they tell you to take.

Well a variation on them, I had walking boots instead of gumboots or wellies as we Brit's call 'em. I had gaiters and waterproof trousers if I needed them, plus a warm weatherproof coat and gloves, a hat and scarf. I had the folding shovel and something to eat and drink.

I kept a torch and spare batteries in the car, one of the Mini-maglites, so I could deal with darkness to some extent too, and there was a travel rug on the back seat.

The boot of the car carried my wet weather riding gear and the overnight bag of clothes I might wear or needed to wash. I was going to be too late now to see my dad, so using my handsfree called the hospital and asked them to tell him I'd see him tomorrow, weather permitting.

I ended the call and managed to get past the tanker. It was a pyrrhic victory because once past him I couldn't go much faster, the sleet was thickening to snow, just what I needed. I noticed that the concentration of seeing where I was going and keeping the speed and direction safe, was making me grasp the steering wheel much harder than usual. My wrists were aching, and I relaxed my grip, but a few minutes later, I was doing it again and the tension across my shoulders was aching too.

I stayed with motorways as much as I could and 'A' roads after that, of which Dorset and bits of Somerset have loads, with poor surfaces and lighting. Finally, I got to the M5 and headed north for Bristol.

I find motorway driving a pain, it can get very boring unless you are belting along above the speed limit. I tend not to do this too often now as they have speed cameras all over the place and the traffic is often too heavy. On a night like this, I was lucky to be moving at the forty miles an hour that we were doing. The traffic was solid on both sides of me and in front and behind. We moved like a gigantic organism, a giant linear amoeba, the protoplasm made up of hundreds of cars and trucks.

Then it stopped altogether, and hazard lights came on, then people were getting out of cars, and then I saw the flames. I grabbed the extinguisher and locking my car as I ran towards the fire, I began to get an idea of what had happened.

Somehow a 4x4 had gone off road and up the bank, rolling and catching fire, there were screams coming from inside the car. People were stood around looking helpless. Jesus, what are they waiting for?

"Switch the engine off, " I shouted at the driver who was banging on the window, I gestured the cut throat gesture to him. For a moment he carried on banging then turned off the engine. It was diesel, so there was less chance of it exploding, and the wind was blowing the flames from the car, although both front tyres were blazing and the stink was awful.

I emptied my extinguisher into the engine compartment, it wasn't going to stop it but at least it would buy time. Two men had brought their wheel braces and were smashing at the windows of the inverted car, and I helped them to pull out the three adults, all of whom where very dazed.

I heard a baby cry, just as the fire regained it's intensity. "Oh no, there's a baby in there." I screamed and ran to the back of the car.

"Come back, wait for the fire engine," called a man's voice, "It's too dangerous."

"Yeah whatever," I knelt down and began to look inside the car, the smell was awful, the fumes would get the baby in no time. Everything was upside down, and at last I could see the child stuck in it's seat by the harness, it was crying bitterly, really frightened, something we had in common.

The mother had now regained enough of her wits to be screaming behind me. I hoped my arms were long enough. I rolled onto my back, bumping my head on all sorts of bits that had been shaken onto the ceiling of the car, which was temporarily the floor.

I could see flames now coming through the dashboard. I wriggled as quickly as I could, pulling myself along on the tops of the headrests of the front seats.

I could hardly breathe and the baby went quiet, "Shit, I have to move faster," I told myself.

"Get out," voices were shouting at me interspersed with screams from the anguished parents.

The harness wasn't anything I had seen before and my eyes were streaming from the smoke, I couldn't see much at all. I pulled at the clasp in all directions, my head was spinning and I felt sick and almost blinded.

I don't know what I did, but the baby suddenly dropped into my arms and I tried to move back the way I'd come. I was slipping on the rubbish in the car and the wet from the sleet and a broken water bottle. I began to think I was going to die, as things started to go black, when somebody grabbed my feet and started pulling.

I felt them pull me out onto the wet grass and the rain felt wonderful on my face, I coughed and after sitting up was sick. Someone who seemed to know what he was doing was administering CPR to the baby, while others were reassuring the parents. Ten yards away the car was burning fiercely. Someone helped me up and we moved further away.

A fire appliance arrived, and I was given oxygen after the baby. Because of the traffic pile up the ambulance had difficulty threading its way through, but finally, the baby and its parents were taken away. By now, I was breathing okay and the nausea had gone. I accepted the water that someone offered and went to go back to my car.

"My keys!" I felt around for them, I felt completely gutted, I'd dropped my keys somewhere, and my car was blocking the road, or one lane of it.

"But I need to get my keys, they must be in the car." I pleaded with the fire chief.

"No way love, You are not going near that until it is safe."

"But my car," I pointed at it.

"Sorry," he shook his head. I was glad we managed to get the baby out, but this I did not need, besides my coat and things were in my car and I was getting cold and wet.

Then I spotted something on the grass, I dipped past the firemen and checked it out. "Phew," I sighed picking up the metal and plastic item, with the three legged Mercedes logo on it.

The police eventually arrived and for some reason took my name and address, I gave them the Bristol one. I slipped off the wet sweater and turned up the heater, and finally managed to filter into the moving traffic and get on my way. I got home at after eleven, I was knackered and my throat hurt like hell, plus I was coughing.

The phone was ringing, it was Simon. "Where have you been?"

"I stopped to help at an accident, helped to get a baby out of a burning car," I said all this interspersed with coughs and wheezes.

"Have you been checked out?"

"No, just got home."

"Get yourself to hospital and have them check you out."

"I'll go in the morning."

"Go now, or I'll call for an ambulance."

"You would too, wouldn't you?"

"Hell, Cathy, where you're concerned I'd send for the SAS."

"That's sweet," I said in between coughs.

To avoid the ambulance, I drove to Southmead, yeah the nearest casualty unit, ironic or what? I waited and was eventually called and seen by a doctor.

He made me sit with an oxygen mask, whereupon I fell asleep, I was so tired. He woke me an hour later. "Are you the woman who pulled the baby out of the car?"

"What?" I mumbled trying to wake up.

"Did you pull a baby out of a burning car?"

"Why, did I do wrong?"

"No you saved her life, she's critical but she's alive in the ICU. Her dad wants to thank you. Can he speak to you?"

"Yeah, I suppose so," I coughed and he handed me a receiver to spit into, it was horrible grey muck, no wonder I couldn't stop coughing.

A young man, perhaps twenty-seven or so came into my cubicle. His eyes were red and wet with tears. "I don't know how to thank you."

"It's okay."

"No, it isn't. It's all my fault, I must have nodded off and next thing we're upside down and on fire. I panicked."

"So would I," I admitted, coughing.

"You told me to switch off the engine and helped to keep back the fire."

"I did what anyone would have done."

"No, you didn't you took charge."

"Not really, it was just the others had to get something to break the windows with. I already had the fire extinguisher in my hands."

"You saved my baby."

"Only just, I think you have to thank whoever it was pulled me out, they saved both of us."

"But you risked your life, for my baby girl."

"I didn't think, there was a baby crying in a dangerous place, and I was the smallest one to be able to wriggle in and grab her."

"No the rest were moving away, they were too frightened, only you and the bloke who pulled you out stayed."

"I think I need to thank him, myself."

"We don't know who he was."

I shrugged, maybe I'd find out later, from the police or something. "Thanks for coming to see me, but hadn't you better get back to your wife and baby?"

"Yes, I'm Brian Ford," he said shaking my hand.

"Cathy Watts, what is your baby's name?"

"Meredith," he said, beaming.

"I hope she's okay soon."

"Thanks again," he said and went.

I spat out some more of the crap from my lungs, coughed and spat some more.

"How'd'ya feel now?" asked the doctor.

"A bit better." I did, I only felt half dead now.

He gave me an inhaler and some expectorant tablets, he also gave me antibiotics. "If it doesn't feel any better tomorrow come back here, see your own doctor as soon as you can."

I calculated that would be monday, assuming I wasn't dead. It suddenly occurred if I'd buggered up my chest, the surgery might not happen. Oh great. But then, I couldn't live with myself if I'd let the little girl die without at least trying to save her. Wasn't sure about the choice of name, but there ya go.

I got home at five, and called Simon, he was up and relieved to hear me speak. I was still coughing and spitting, but it did feel easier. He went off on one about calling a favour in and getting me to see the Queen's chest physician on Saturday. I managed to tell him I was okay and would be fine by the time I got back down to him.

I crashed on my bed and zonked out until the phone rang, it was nearly midday.

"I thought we had a bike ride booked."

"Oh yeah," I croaked, my throat sore and dry, desperately needing a cuppa.

"Hey what's the problem, you sound rough," said Des, sounding concerned.

"Yeah," I croaked, "smoke inhalation."

"What, like in fire?"

"Yeah," I croaked and coughed, spitting into the tissue. It wasn't quite as dark.

"Can I come round, we can talk, it's a bit cold for a ride anyway."

"You'll have to give me an hour to get myself ready."

"I'll bring some lunch, how about some French bread, cheese and a bottle of wine?"

"I can't drink, tablets," I said before a bigger eruption of coughing stopped me. More gubbins in the tissue, this time it was dark grey, and I frowned at it.

"See you in about ninety minutes, is that okay?"

It was, I made up some sponge mix and bunged it in the oven before dashing into the shower. I don't know why I wanted to make an impression on Des, I mean he needed me more than I did him. But I had this frisson inside me, I couldn't explain.

I wanted to appear girly, but my chest and head felt differently, I ate some fruit and had some tea, then took the sponge out, "Let him eat cake," meaning my father, I said to the fridge, but it wasn't impressed.

The coughing had largely stopped by the time the doorbell rang, and I had managed to put on some mascara without removing an eyeball - you try it when you're coughing. I'd also dressed in some embroidered jeans and a mohair top - with a tee shirt underneath, otherwise, it itches.

"Wow, you look good for a fire survivor, here, these are for you." He handed me a bunch of flowers.

"Thank you," I said accepting the roses and carnations, all in yellow, "You shouldn't have." Why do we women say that to someone who gives us flowers? If they said okay and took them back, we'd kill them!

"I got some fresh soups too, is that okay."

"Yes super." I laughed realising my unconscious pun, super soup.

"I heard on the radio that someone pulled a child out of a burning car on the motorway last night."

"Let me take the food," I said putting the flowers down on the hall table, I was also blushing.

"They said it was a woman."

"Shall we sit at the table?" I ignored him laying places at the kitchen table, the two soups were the same, great, I could save some for Daddy, he may not notice, and pigs will fly.

"It was you, wasn't it?"

"What?" I feigned ignorance.

"Pulled the little girl from the car."

"I can't remember, what time did you say it happened?"

"Cathy, it was you," he said loudly. I shrugged at him, I couldn't lie at the best of times, well I could but I didn't want to.

"So, let's eat, I'm starving."

We did and he asked me about the fire. I told him what I could remember, thinking I was going to die with the baby, was the worst bit.

"Can I do an interview for the BBC, it would be a nice scoop and I'll get you a fee."

"What for?" I was genuinely appalled.

"It's what they call human interest, it makes people feel good because everyone survived, and that sort of thing must be everyone's worst nightmare."

"How much?"

"I'll see if I can get you a hundred. Most people do them for free, but I'll say you're a special case."

"And if I say okay, I'll have the press around tomorrow."

"Not if we have an exclusive, and I'll give a copy to the agency to distribute, it tends to take the impetus out of things."

"Okay then."

"I'll go and get my camera."

What had I got myself into this time? Maybe I should just go round in my Superman tee shirt. Nah, don't have the red cape.

"For the exclusive, they'll give you two hundred and fifty."

"What?" I gasped, "Just for talking to you?"

"Ah no, they'd like you to come into the studio and do a formal interview with one of the news team."

"Don't mention the disappearing dormouse," I said quickly.

"They already know, and your engagement, and the bag snatcher."

"Oh shit. Why can't you do it and we'll forget the money."

"I can't, I said I'd take you to the studio."

"What if I've changed my mind?"

"They'll still run some sort of story, but the tabloids will be around sniffing for something, especially with your other form."

A sense of panic flashed through me, "What do you mean?"

"Well, the dormouse and the bag snatcher and your engagement."

"Why is that interesting to anyone?"

"Oh come on Cathy, in the last week you've done more than most people do in a lifetime, you're like some superhero."

"But I don't want to be, I'm just an ordinary woman doing what anyone would do."

"Your modesty is quite charming, but it isn't deserved."

"I have to go and see my dad at Southmead, if I don't take him food, he won't eat. He refuses hospital meals." I looked at him, "Don't you even think about it."

"I wasn't, look I'm not some chancer, it was just coincident that I put two and two together and realised you made them four. You're an amazing woman, and I feel privileged to know you."

"I need to get somethings ready to take to the hospital, I'll follow you in your car." I looked at my watch. "I am leaving that place to go and see my dad at four whether or not they've interviewed me."

"Okay, I'll tell them."

"I mean it, Des, I walk at four no matter what," I said firmly.

ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

Comments please, smoke signals are acceptable.

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 166

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Fiction

Genre: 

  • Romance

Character Age: 

  • Teenage or High School

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Other Keywords: 

  • TV interview
  • engagement
  • occasional swearing oh bugger!
  • Dormouse / Dormice / Dormeece

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

I was introduced to the producer of the programme, who was a woman. I always thought they were men who went around in beards and sandals shouting 'cut', or was that directors? Shows what I know. Well Des had a beard and sandals, even in the rain. I was wondering what Simon would look like with a beard. Hmmm maybe I like beards?

As Easy As Falling Off A Bike.
by Angharad.
part (14dozen less 2).

I followed Des's Landrover into the BBC carpark, finding a visitor's space. He led me into the studios holding on to my arm. To say I was terrified was an understatement, like Pearl Harbour was the Japanese being unkind!

I was introduced to the producer of the programme, who was a woman. I always thought they were men who went around in beards and sandals shouting 'cut', or was that directors? Shows what I know. Well Des had a beard and sandals, even in the rain. I was wondering what Simon would look like with a beard. Hmmm maybe I like beards?

Polly, the producer took me into an office and we had a quick chat, she asked me if I was worried about anything?

Nah, just the rest of my life.

"Don't worry, we're only going to look at the car rescue, although the other bits may be mentioned. But we won't have pictures of dormice jumping down your cleavage."

"Okay," I said taking a deep breath.

"We'll pop you into makeup, and then Helen will do the interview, it's not a live one, and we'll be mixing it with the footage of the burned out car and an interview we did with the father."

I nodded, "Do you know who pulled me out of the car?"

"No, not as far as I know."

"Okay, can I thank him anyway?"

"Course you can."

"Thank you."

"That's okay, now because we're paying you an expenses fee, Des told me you lost a day's work to get here, I'll need you to sign here and here," she pointed at a form. "Do you want a copy of the interview?"

"Yes please," I don't know why, vanity I expect.

"I was in makeup for two minutes, she just wanted to make sure my skin wasn't too reflective of the studio lights. I brushed my own hair, and was led through to the studio where Helen would do the interrogation.

They wired me up, with a small microphone attached to a power pack transmitter around my waist at the back. I was still in jeans and jumper.

"Can you say something, love?" called some bloke.

I looked around but anyone else seemed to be busy, so I pointed at myself and mouthed 'me?'

"Yes you love, need to do a sound check."

"Oh right." Of course my mind went blank until a nonsense rhyme came to mind, and then sort of fell out of my mouth assisted by my lips.

"The boy stood on the burning deck
His legs all covered in blisters,
He didn't have his trousers on,
So he had to borrow his sisters."

"That's great love, thank you."

I sat there feeling like a spare mmm mmm at a wedding. Eventually Polly arrived with Helen. Ah, I'd seen her doing the main news, gosh a real live celebrity.

We were introduced, and we talked for several minutes then she asked me about the accident, so I told her. She asked if I was frightened and I told her only when I thought the fumes had got me and the baby. Then the real hero, the man who pulled me out, saved us both and I'd like to thank him. She asked if I knew the baby was going to be okay? I didn't but I did now, and felt a tear run down my face, I thanked her for telling me.

"That's a wrap," called a voice and I started.

"Thanks that's it," said Helen and shook my hand again.

"What, you filmed that?"

"Yes, why?"

"I wasn't ready, I mumbled and rambled and cried."

"You were fine, and natural. We'll tidy it up, splice it with the father's interview and it will go out for six on the main news bulletin and probably again at ten."

"Cathy, can the local news people have a word?" called Polly running into the studio.

Another reporter person, this time a man called Toby, came and talked to me. I was much more self conscious this time aware that they would be filming as soon as he sat down. However, once we got talking I forgot about the camera and the mic I was wearing. He asked me about the bag snatch, and I told him like I remembered it, then he asked about Simon and my engagement and we talked for a couple more minutes. Then he thanked me, and Polly led me back out through the maze of studios and technical rooms to a bathroom where I could take off the make up and wash my face.

"Des is waiting for you through there, we'll send you a cheque if that's okay?"

"Yes, fine."

I looked and there was my own bearded collie wagging his tail, okay, well he is an outside sorta guy, a bit like me, except for the beard.

"That was great Cathy, now we can put, 'as seen on TV' next to your name."

I nearly said, that I had been on telly before, then realised it was as someone else. So I stumbled into, "Erm, how do you know it was okay?"

"I watched it with the producer."

"You did?" I blushed.

"You were great, so natural. Every man I know will be wanting you to marry him and have his children. Well maybe not the marriage bit, but certainly the procreative bit."

"You are joking?" I gasped.

"I'm not, you are one of the most natural, sexy women I know. You don't just talk to your audience you seduce them, men and women, they love it."

"What!" I exclaimed, blushing so red and so hot, I'm sure I was giving off gigawatts of energy.

"Some women have it, most don't, you are something else, girl."

"I have to go," I said, actually registering that the clock I'd been looking at for the past few minutes was telling the time. It was quarter past three. "To the hospital....my dad....feed him....bye."

"Don't I get a....obviously not," he said to my fleeing body.

I was still breathing deeply when I got to the ward, "Hi Cathy, loved the trick with the dormouse," offered the ward sister laughing.

Damn, I knew that was going to haunt me. "Hi, Daddy," I purred trying to take my mind off things.

" 'Affy," he exclaimed and started smiling. Maybe absence does make the heart grow fonder?

"I have some soup and fresh bread, I didn't make the bread okay?"

"kay," he grunted, but smiling.

I warmed the remains of the soup and took the bowl into him, he ate it without a murmur and the bread disappeared too. Finally he had a piece of the sponge I made with a cuppa.

I sat and talked to him holding his hand, and he smiled and made the odd remark or question. Before I knew it, the news came on the television, I wasn't listening until the nurse called, "Cathy, you're on the telly." Excusing myself, I ran to watch.

'I dunno what happened,' said the driver of the car,'I must 'ave nodded off and next thing we're like upside down and everyone is screaming. People were stood around and I couldn't get the doors open. Then someone shouted fire, and I panicked.

That must have terrifying? asked the interviewer.

It was, I really thought we were all gonna die, there was smoke and stuff in the car and the smell was 'orrible. Then this woman runs up with a fire extinguisher and tells me to cut the engine. I didn't even know it was still on. She starts putting out the fire and some men arrived and broke the windows and she and they helped to pull us out.

We were all so dazed and so glad to be safe, we forgot about my baby daughter Meredith, she started to scream, and the woman goes back to car and starts to climb in to rescue her.

I couldn't like believe it, the car is on fire and she wriggles into it to save my baby. My wife was screaming and I was just paralysed with fear. Then it all went quiet and some bloke grabs her feet and starts pulling her out, and she has the baby.

And how is baby Meredith? asked the interviewer.

She is doing just great, thanks to our rescuer.'

Back to the reporter, 'We managed to track down the mystery woman rescuer, Cathy Watts, who was able to talk with Helen in the studio.'

The picture cut to me, looking like a nervous squirrel, 'You arrived on the scene with your fire extinguisher, was your's the only car with one?"

"I don't know nor stopped to ask. It was more a morale booster for the rescuers and a life line for the passengers, they were looking very anxious. I called for him to switch of the engine, and shouted at the people watching not to just stand there. Then I began hitting the windows with the empty extinguisher and two men appeared with wheel braces or some other tools and we managed to get them out."

While we were talking they did a split screen with a fire brigade video of the actual car. Jesus, I didn't go into that did I? I felt the colour drain from my face.

"You heard the baby and climbed into the car to rescue her?"

"I wasn't thinking other than the baby would die if I didn't do something. I suppose I didn't think too hard and just went for it."

"You went into that?" asked the interviewer as they showed the car consumed with flames.

"The biggest problem was the smoke, I couldn't see and the baby who was screaming suddenly went quiet, I managed to undo her harness and then I started to black out with the smoke, and some chap grabbed my legs and pulled me out, thankfully I had the baby in my arms."

That man is the real life saver, he saved both of us. I'd like to thank him if I could."

The camera panned back to Helen, "This is the same woman who last week captured a bag snatcher in Portsmouth and got engaged to Lord Cameron, I wonder if he knows he's marrying a superhero?"

"Oh shit!" I flopped into the chair by the side of Dad's and felt awful, the tabloids were bound to be around now.

" Ossamarra?" said my dad as if he'd just spotted a famous terrorist.

I processed what he'd said. "I just did something very dumb."

"oh?"

"I helped get a girl out of a car on the motorway that turned upside down, no big deal. The BBC wanted an interview and for some stupid reason, I gave one. Now the whole bloody world will be knocking on the door."

"No big deal!" exclaimed the nurse, "She forgot to mention the car was on fire at the time."

"No No No," said my father.

"Yes, she is a regular girl scout. You must be very proud of her?"

"Essss," he said beaming, and dribbling just a little.

"Cathy, you're on again."

"Oh no!" Some morbid curiosity drew me to the screen again.

They showed the pictures of the dormouse diving into my bra, "How do you get from this to this?" the pictures were replaced by the firebrigade video. "The answer, via one very special lady, soon to be literally a Lady, as in Lady Cameron, I mean our very own down to earth and sexy superhero, Cathy Watts, dormouse expert extraordinaire."

They cut to the interview and with tears welling up, I walked out of the ward and stood out in the cold. Life was never going to be quite the same again, but what options did I have?

Could I have let the bag snatcher go? Yes I could, but I knew that I wouldn't not with Stella's bag. As for the car fire, how could I have walked away and left a child to die? Again, I could have done but I knew inside I wouldn't, I'd rather die attempting to save her, why? Because, that's why, that's who and what I am. Now I'm likely to have to pay for it. Who said life was fair?

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Leave a comment if you please. Thanks.

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 167

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Sequel or Series Episode

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Other Keywords: 

  • racebikes
  • press intrusion
  • Royal Family.
  • Dormouse / Dormice / Dormeece

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

"I did some research on the net, looking for material to use with the dormouse prog. I googled you and got very recent stuff, and then dormice and found three things by C. Watts. I opened them and the name was Charles Watts. I checked that out and found a reference to an old school reunion and there was a photo. To be fair it didn't look much like you, then I saw it was a Bristol school. I made an assumption and you confirmed it. The coincidences were too strong, it had to be you."

Easy As Falling Off A Bike.
by: Angharad.
part 167.

I drove home from the hospital after teary farewell to my father, he understood my position I think, I simply told him, that if I was interesting then the press would be looking to do features, which would mean research. He nodded. Whether he understood the full implications, I don't know, but I did. I almost felt like applying for a shotgun licence, for killing vermin, but I don't think tabloid journalists are covered, or lawyers.

Driving home, I tried to feel positive, I wanted to accept that I was living the dream and in a month's time, I would have achieved something I'd wanted for many years, to match my body and mind. Maybe my prayers were being answered or my wishes granted, it had taken a bit longer than I'd wanted.

I was suspicious as I turned into the road, thankfully there seemed to be no unusual cars about. I thought about hiding mine away from the house, but then it could get stolen or vandalised, so I left it.

I dashed into the house and after making a cuppa, checked my emails.

'Hi Cathy, several requests for interviews from press, have told them you are unavailable. Can you call Prof Agnew? Stay low, Pippa.'

'Cathy please call me, Tom Agnew.'

'Saw the news, what can I say? My heroine, Simon.'

'I'd still like that bike ride, Des.'

"Haven't you done enough damage?" I asked his email. I felt like writing back 'Foxtrot Oscar!' But I didn't, I didn't want to sink to his level.

Thinking about preparing for a siege, I checked the store cupboard and freezer. I could do with some stuff. I grabbed my bag and rushed off to Tesco. I was back an hour later with a car full of fuel, a freezer with enough in it to last for a couple of weeks, and supplies to make fresh bread or soups. I hoped my dad would understand if I went to ground.

I called the Professor. "Hi, Prof it's Cathy."

"Hello, young lady, how are you?"

"Wondering if I did the right thing."

"About the interview?"

"Yes, everything else was right."

"I agree, I think too that sometimes it's better to give them some words than let them make them up. You're welcome to come and stay here if necessary."

"That's very generous of you," I felt almost moved to tears.

"Well, they'll find Simon's place, they'll do the same with your parents, and your college rooms. Stay away from the university until we have some idea of the interest of the media. Students have been asked to close ranks and to be fair, they see you as being hunted for something you haven't done. Some were actually quite incensed for you."

"Wow, I'm impressed by your levels of persuasion."

"Me, it wasn't me, it was your tutorial groups and Pippa who organised things. They got everyone to agree to refer people back to the university press office, who have a prepared statement. It mentions nothing about your history. I've also taken the liberty to speak to Sussex, who sounded supportive and have asked their press office to make a similarly bland and gender-neutral statement, they said you had asked for your records to be amended, they have been."

"That is brilliant, thank you so much. I'll try to do what I can online to help with the project. I'd like to see my dad tomorrow and warn him about my going to ground."

"Well, I'll leave a key under the large flower holder on the right-hand side of the front door. The burglar alarm code is the same as the STD code. You have fifteen seconds to punch in the numbers and press 'off'.

"But the STD code is only three numbers," I stated worried I was missing something."

"From abroad?"

"Ah, got you, so is that five or six numbers?"

"Five, anymore and this ageing brain would forget them."

"I doubt it."

I clicked in the number on my mobile, purely as an aide-memoire of course. Well in the heat of the moment, who knows what my brain would do?

"Right, wait to hear from us before you turn up at work, and park your car around the back, the big gates open from the inside, go through the house to open them, and don't let the dog escape will you?"

"No of course not. I'll contact Pippa when I expect to be down there. Would you mind if I have visitors?"

"I presume you mean Simon and his sister?"

"Yes."

"No problem, as long as they don't bring a tail with them."

"I'll tell them to be careful."

"Okay, well see you soon, take care and drive carefully."

"I will, thanks so much, Prof."

"It's about time you called me Tom."

"Yes, Prof."

"I don't know why I bother, bloody women," he put the phone down, and I roared.

Next stop Simon. He wasn't in, but I did speak to Stella.

"They've been around looking for you. I told them you didn't live here and to ask the university, so hopefully, they are staking out your rooms and getting very bored."

"Very good, Stella. I'm going to stay at the professor's house for a bit. I can work from there and hopefully will be able to see you two as well. Please make sure you aren't being followed and tell Simon the same."

"Cor, this is like cloak and dagger stuff. John le Carre isn't about is he?"

"Who?" I knew perfectly well who she meant, I just wanted to play her up.

"The Soldier, sailor, spy blokey."

"That was Alec Guinness."

"No, he was the star of it."

"George Smiley."

"Yes, two series and he barely moved a muscle, now that is acting." She offered.

"Think I prefer George Clooney to George Smiley," I joked.

The doorbell rang and I froze. I looked at my watch, it was nearly ten, who would be calling at this time? With my stomach churning, I asked Stella to hold. I nipped upstairs and looked out of the bedroom window. Somebody was standing about in what looked like cycling gear. The bell rang again.

"I think I know who it might be, if it isn't I'll call you back."

"Why don't I just wait, and if there's any problems, let me know and I'll call Daddy and get him to send some reinforcements."

"Or the police."

"Yes okay, I'll wait until you know who it is." Stella hung on the phone and I put the receiver down on the table.

"Hello Cathy," greeted me when I opened the door.

"What are you doing here?" I wasn't hostile just not friendly, "It's ten o'clock."

"I know about Charlie," he said.

"My brother? What about him?"

"Come on, Cathy, I'm not stupid."

"I'm not doing any more interviews, with you or anyone."

"I'm not asking for one, I'm hoping I can help you avoid some." He smiled disarmingly.

"I thought what we did was supposed to do that?" I felt a tear run down my face.

"That was my intention, I just didn't expect to find anything unusual about you. Except you didn't exist last year, but somebody called Charles Watts had an article about dormice in Hampshire, in the 'Proceedings of the Hants Natural History Society.' So maybe we'd better talk?"

"You'd better come in." He took his bike around the back of the house and locked it, then came in through the back door. He dumped his coat, gloves and helmet in the kitchen, and also took his cycling shoes off.

While he was doing this, I told Stella it was a friend.

"What sort of bike is it?" I asked him.

"Colnago," he replied.

"Good?"

"Excellent. Goes like the proverbial off a shovel."

"Okay, tea or coffee?"

"I brought the wine we didn't have earlier," he held up a bottle of red wine.

"Is that wise when you're riding?"

"Yeah, do it all the time."

I got some glasses and a bottle of water. He looked quizzically at me. "If I drink water and wine, I don't get sick."

"Not together, I hope?" he pleaded, "cause then I'd know you were weird."

"Separate glasses," I answered laughing.

"Sounds like a follow up to Separate Tables."

"Is that a book or something?" I risked showing my ignorance.

"Dunno about a book, but there was a film, couldn't tell you who was in it, saw it about a thousand years ago, when I was a nipper."

We sat down in the lounge and he opened the bottle with his own corkscrew. I brought out some cheese and biscuits and necessary crocks and cutlery.

I sipped the wine which was good even though it hadn't 'breathed'. It was from Chile, which surprised me.

"So how do you know about Charlie?"

"I did some research on the net, looking for material to use with the dormouse prog. I googled you and got very recent stuff, and then dormice and found three things by C. Watts. I opened them and the name was Charles Watts. I checked that out and found a reference to an old school reunion and there was a photo. To be fair it didn't look much like you, then I saw it was a Bristol school. I made an assumption and you confirmed it. The coincidences were too strong, it had to be you."

"So you're a clever dick. So once you push off from here, you sell my story do you?"

"No, believe it or not, the last thing I need is for the excrement to hit the air con. I want to do the dormouse programme and I want you to present it."

"Why?" I asked dumbfounded.

He loaded a cracker with some Brie and crunched it around in his mouth before he responded. "I could say, that you are a beautiful woman with a television-friendly voice and a lovely, natural manner of seducing an audience."

"You told me that before."

"See, I'm a consistent liar," he said and ate the rest of his cracker, chuckling as he did so.

"Liar, you were lying?" I blushed with anger.

"Yes, I'm madly in love with you and want you to have my babies."

"Very funny, besides Simon is half as big again as you and has a violent persuasion. He is also very jealous."

"Yeah, and stinking rich. I know, I googled him too, and his sister, the nurse and his father the fourth richest man in England."

"What Henry? he isn't is he?" I gasped, then took a good shot of the wine.

"Depends on which list you look at, but it's fourth or fifth."

"I had no idea. He's a lovely man."

"I'll bet, lots of old money are, let me film on their land and so on. Then if they get anything interesting I get calls to come and film it. Not all of them shoot birds of prey."

"Including a certain royal, who of course knew nothing about the hen harriers." I spat.

"Well, without evidence there is no proof, pity though."

"Why can't the press go and piss all over him?" I asked feeling spiteful.

"They do, especially when he's pissed. Just look at any tabloid. He lives in a goldfish bowl."

"Yeah I suppose, but he's such an arsehole, I can't find any sympathy," I confessed.

"Yes, but which came first, the arsehole or the pressure." How could he sound so reasonable? Hen harriers were rare birds by any standards and whoever did it got clean away, even though loads of people suspect they know who did it. Such is the law.

"Look," he said, "how about we concentrate on your problems rather than trying to condemn an heir to the throne because he's of questionable intelligence."

"How can we do that?" I was just getting on my soapbox and he was changing the subject.

"Well let's look at possible scenarios...."

We talked for two hours, at times he was very serious at others we fell about laughing. We ate all the crackers and cheese and drank all the wine, I also drank some of the water. The more wine I drank the funnier he became, or his jokes did.

I went off to make coffee while he popped to the cloakroom. He was back in the lounge by the time I walked in with the tray and some sponge.

"Hey that looks homemade," he said, licking his lips.

"Yeah, well, make the most of it, because Daddy has the rest of it."

"You made it?"

"Duh? No, it was the scullery maid, but because I knew you were coming I gave her the night off." I answered sarcastically.

"Hmmm," he said after taking a bite. "If I get you to elope with me, will you make me cakes like this?"

"Look stop the silly questions, I'm engaged, see," I flashed the ring at him.

"Yeah, but we could be in Gretna Green by daylight." He said his eyes dancing.

"Don't be silly," I chided him.

"I'm being deadly serious. I fancy you like mad." His eyes showed something other than a sparkle.

"You realise you've just killed your dormouse programme?"

"For one night of passion with you, it would be a fair trade."

"Sorry. I'm spoken for."

"He wouldn't have to know?"

"No. I'm not interested."

"Damn!" He drank his coffee.

"Maybe you'd better go," I suggested.

"Okay, tell Simon you passed with flying colours."

"What?"

"I bet him I could get you to go to bed with me. He said you wouldn't."

"You know Simon?" I asked appalled that he had indulged in such nefarious activities.

"Yeah, we were at school together, and I know Stella, a bit. She is lovely but crazy."

"So tell me about this bet?" I asked him.

"I said, I'd met you at the university and wanted to do a programme with you. He told me to keep my paws off you, that you and he were an item and going to get married. I told him that no woman could resist my charms, he told me that you would. He was right. I owe him a rather nice case of Scotch."

I stood and fumed. "Please go."

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Comments? Is it worthy of them?

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 168

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Sequel or Series Episode

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Other Keywords: 

  • In Hiding
  • escape
  • tabloid journalists.

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

I wrapped my scarf around my face and pulled up the hood on my coat, then sunglasses, I wanted to look inconspicuous. I ran into the shop and bought some sandwiches and a drink, plus some chocolate for me and some bread for my dad to have with his soup. I also bought an aerosol of furniture polish. I paid for my items and walking back to my car spotted the occupants of the Audi getting restive.

Easy As Falling Off A Bike
by Angharad
part 14 dozen!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

"Simon!" I said sharply into the phone.

"What, it's one o'clock?"

"Were you asleep?" I asked almost biting my tongue.

"Yes, yes I was, why?" He yawned sleepily.

"Well I am not and I have just sent that that snake in the grass, packing." I had just turned my temper up to simmer.

"What are you on about?" but he sounded more awake now, by the time I was finished he'd be on higher alert than the military in Afghanistan.

"Your bosom buddy, Desmond, that's what!" Part of me wanted to cry but not before I'd vented my wrath.

"Oh fuck!" was said quietly but distinctly, at least to my hyped up senses.

"Your little friend will be sending you a case of Scotch. I hope you enjoy it. I'll be sending you a certain piece of jewellery, just thought I'd warn you in case it gets lost in the post, or out in my garden because that's what I FEEL LIKE DOING WITH IT, YOU BASTARD!"

"Cathy I can can explain," he tried to say.

"DON'T YOU TALK TO ME YOU, YOU BASTARD.... what did you say?" I suspect I might have impaired his hearing as I ranted in a semi screech. God, I sounded like my mother, on the one or two occasions she'd let rip at my dad. I blushed.

"What!" I snapped down the phone, not having heard it because I was lost in my own thoughts about my mother.

"I had nothing to do with it."

"You could have warned me you knew him, you, you PIG!"

"He said he was going to see you to help avoid the press, he also said he would flirt mercilessly with you."

"He did the arrogant arsehole."

"I wondered if he was just trying to wind me up, about you I mean. I told him he was wasting his time, that could have been a mistake, he saw it as a challenge."

"You should have told me." I was calming down a little, but still angry or maybe just hurt. I couldn't decide, my emotions were all over the place.

"I didn't really have much chance. I sent you the email but it was in between meetings, it's been hell the last few days."

"All you had to say was you knew Des,"

"I know, I know, or at least I do now."

"What would you have done if I had gone to bed with him?"

"Been very surprised and disappointed."

"Now you know how I feel, goodnight darling." I put the phone down and unplugged it. I made a cuppa and went to bed.

I suppose I was living on adrenalin, because I was awake some four hours later and taking the wheels off my bike. I was still dark when I packed the car, with all the clothes I had with me including my cycling kit.

Then I made some soup. I would have to buy bread, but that couldn't be helped. I cleaned up everything and did a machine load of washing, then tumbled it dry.

I checked every hour, there were still no strange cars near the house. That almost disappointed me. I suppose I was spoiling for a fight and the enemy hadn't arrived. I hated to think what free radicals were swishing about inside me, set off by the stress and the adrenalin.

I packed the remaining stuff in the car, including the food for the hospital. Ten minutes later I was on my way. As I pulled out of our road, I spotted a car pull out from the kerb and follow me. The adrenalin rushed again.

I let it follow me, making a mental note of the make and model and the number if it got close enough. It was likely to be faster than mine, being an Audi A4. There were two people in it.

I deliberately went the long way to Tesco, anyone who then went into the car park behind me was likely to be following me, not making a three mile detour - unless they really were Bristolians, who have to be some of the worst drivers around.

I indicated and turned into Tesco, so did the big Audi. Oh shit!

I wrapped my scarf around my face and pulled up the hood on my coat, then sunglasses, I wanted to look inconspicuous. I ran into the shop and bought some sandwiches and a drink, plus some chocolate for me and some bread for my dad to have with his soup. I also bought an aerosol of furniture polish. I paid for my items and walking back to my car spotted the occupants of the Audi getting restive.

There was no doubt that they were tailing me. I got in my car and drove off towards the exit, which is a like a single lane onto the major road. They followed me. Once I saw they were stuck behind me with another car behind them, I got out of my car and advanced towards them as menacingly as I could, waving the claw hammer I still had in the car. I heard the door locks of the Audi click.

I then sprayed their windscreen with enough polish to clean a complete dining suite twice over. I then removed a valve from their front tyre and ignoring the horns hooting behind, got back in my car and drove off in the opposite direction to the hospital. Round one to me.

If they went for criminal damage, I would go for stalking. I also had the number of the car.

About an hour later, I got to the hospital and parked the car where it wouldn't be seen except from within the car park, alongside another A class Mercedes, although a different colour to mine.

I saw my dad and gave the soup to the nurses. I explained why I was there early and couldn't stay, he was clearly sad but he said he understood, or tried to with his limited capacity to speak.

"Affy,"

"Yes Daddy," I said knowing the conversation was coming to an end and I had to go and play with the traffic and the press.

" Avooo unny?" he said to me.

"Have I honey, what for the bread?"

"Noooo, no no. Unny."

"Money?" I asked and he nodded. "You need some money, sure how much do you want, a tenner?"

"No no no, vuuuu unny."

"Do I need money?" I asked and he nodded.

"I'm okay at the minute, but thanks for asking."

"Noo, vuu ake some."

"You want me to take some?"

"Esss," he smiled and nodded.

"Why?"

"Nnn case vuu etaway."

"In case I need to getaway?" I guessed.

"Ess, otle."

"Otle? Oh hotel, yes got you."

"Ess."

"Look Daddy it's awfully kind of you but I'm okay."

"Noo, no, vuu ake unny."

"I don't need...."

"Noo vuu ake," he interrupted me.

"Okay I'll take fifty quid, how's that?"

"Noo," he shook his head, "mmm-or," he nodded.

"More?"

He nodded.

"Okay I'll take more, a hundred."

"Mmm-or, a ousan," he said.

"A thousand Daddy? Crikey, for that I could go abroad for a month."

"Ess, vuu gggo."

I didn't know where to look, my eyes were filling with tears and all I could do was hug him and cry against his shoulder. He put his good arm around me and hugged me.

He was weeping too, "I an't rotec my ddor-or."

"What?" I said sniffing.

"He's upset because he can't protect his daughter," said the nurse who'd obviously come to see what I was doing to her patient.

"I'm a big girl now Daddy, I can take care of myself." I tried to pretend, hoping if I said it enough I might start to believe it.

"Mmmy gob," he said and pointed at himself.

"My job, he thinks it's his job and he's letting you down."

"Thanks Sister, I wouldn't have got that one."

"You okay Mr Watts?" she knelt down and asked him.

"Ess, ell Affy ake unny."

"I have to tell you to take the money, is that right."

"Ess," he nodded, and so did I.

"Okay Daddy, I'll come and see you as soon as I can."

We hugged and, he squeezed me. "I love you Daddy," I said breaking the embrace.

"I uv vuu ooo."

I kissed him and left.

Over the next four hours I made my way slowly to Portsmouth and to Professor Agnew's house. I achieved entry with the key he had left for me. It was a Saturday afternoon and neither he nor the dog were there. It wasn't hard to work out where they were.

I unpacked and went to the room I'd used before. I took the milk and tea bags I'd brought from home and made some tea, I also put away the cornflakes I'd brought. Sitting in the kitchen, I called Simon.

"Where are you? I tried phoning your father's place," he sounded concerned.

"I'm safe, in Portsmouth or near by."

"Keep away from here, they're watching it."

"I expect the same at the uni, although I wouldn't be there anyway on a weekend.

"I feel we need to talk, and I want to apologise for not warning you about Des."

"Okay, where do you suggest?"

He named a pub I knew and I agreed to meet him there, I would take a taxi.

Agnew came home shortly afterwards and made quite a fuss of me, as did his silly dog. Spaniels love people and this one bounced all over me, or tried to.

We had a long chat and we decided that If I kept low for a week, the news-worthiness would probably disappear. It meant that any pretensions I had about doing the documentary, except in a consultant's role, were now zilch. I suppose if that was the price I paid to be me, I would have to pay it, I just hoped there was no tax to pay on it as well.

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Feel free to comment or donate to Erin's hatbox fund.

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Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 169

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Sequel or Series Episode

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Other Keywords: 

  • Spies
  • cloaks and daggers - okay Barbours and wellies.

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

"Should we be talking about this in a pub, there could be enemy agents anywhere."

"I had to give two the slip earlier, I think the same two who tried to kill Scott with the snowplough."

"Not the snowplough?" said Simon.

Easy As Forgetting My Welsh.
by: Angharad llaw euraid.
part: cant a'n drigain'n naw.

I had asked Simon to be careful he wasn't followed to the pub. To make sure, well it is Simon after all, I got there early and watched from a park opposite. He had taken a taxi too, which I saw go past and then return two minutes later. It barely stopped and he hopped out and it flew off again. He ran into the pub, the quickest I'd ever seen him move.

I watched and waited. No one seemed to be tailing him. Then I nipped across the road.

He was stood at the bar watching the door. I slipped in and closed it quickly. I had a scarf tied around my head to keep my head warm, disguise my hair and hide some of my face. I was also wearing my Barbour coat with jeans and trainers. I suppose I looked more like a dogwalker than the photo with Spike which had appeared in the press.

Simon hadn't immediately recognised me, but then as I took the scarf off he rushed up to take my hand. "What do you want to drink and do you want to eat?"

"Tom Agnew is coming in an hour, we're going to eat then, are you going to stay?"

"Yeah, I can wait an hour. You know since the cook left, I don't think I've had a truly decent meal."

"Why do you think she left?" I asked as we found a table which enabled us to keep an eye on the door and yet be relatively private. I sipped my wine as he thought of an answer.

"I'm not sure, she said they were after her, which we put down to paranoid delusions."

"And now?" I prompted.

"We are satisfied she is paranoid, but that they are out to get her."

"Can't you think of a better line than that?" I whined, shaking my head.

"Give me a chance, I'm a banker not a comedian," he said tetchily.

That's a matter of opinion, I thought to myself. I sipped the wine again.

"So what happened with Dirty Des?"

"He made a move after I produced some cake."

"Not your famous sponge cake."

"Ha ha!" I said sarcastically.

"I'm not joking Babes, I love your cake. So there was Dirty Des with my girl and eating my cake and, well what happened?"

"He asked me to elope with him, which I assumed was just a joke."

"It is, he asked me once," snorted Simon, "I told him he'd have to shave his beard off, if I did. He refused, as I knew he would."

"Oh, I thought his beard might be his only saving grace." I blushed when Simon gave me a filthy look.

"So then he made a real move?"

"Yeah, told me he fancied me and wanted to make passionate love to me."

"THE SWINE!" Simon said loudly and everyone looked at us. "Sorry," he whispered.

"I told him, he'd lost his dormouse programme, but he said it would be worth it for a night of passionate sex with me. I tried to tell him I don't do passionate."

"Fibber, you have passions about all sorts of things, including me." Simon smiled clicking his front teeth together, to indicate it's falseness.

"But of course darling," I said smiling back as artifically as he had.

"Marry me Cathy, I can't live with out you." He fell down on one knee holding my hand. The woman on the next table snorted cider all over her husband.

"I can't Heathcliff, I'm already promised." I said back as sadly as I could.

"Cathy, but I can't live without you?" he pleaded, and I was very close to losing it in a fit of giggles.

"Even if the cook comes back?" I said.

"Erm, maybe not," he said.

"Look next time you come round while my fiance is away, I'll teach you some easy recipes, how about that?"

"Will we have time Cathy? I mean you are so demanding, four times a night, it leaves me exhausted the next day."

"We can always put something in the oven," I beamed.

"What like a bun?" asked Simon innocently, and the woman snorted more cider nearly choking herself.

"I was thinking more of a casserole," I said digging deep to maintain self control. Simon had obviously done amateur dramatics or something because he was totally unruffled.

He took a sip of his Guinness, "So when does he come back then?"

"I don't know, it's classified. I saw him cleaning his automatic, so it looks dangerous."

"Not another assassination job?" said Simon in disgust.

"Well that Russian president is becoming a pain, one word from P and my Scott will pop him."

"Should we be talking about this in a pub, there could be enemy agents anywhere."

"I had to give two the slip earlier, I think the same two who tried to kill Scott with the snowplough."

"Not the snowplough?" said Simon.

"Yes, it was a trifle obvious in June." As these words left my mouth the woman on the next table snorted the last of her cider and still coughing, was led away by her husband.

As soon as they left, we both lost our restraint and giggled like two schoolgirls.

"I had two creeps follow me in Bristol, in an Audi. I gave them the slip." I then explained what I'd done.

Simon shook his head, "You read too many spy novels."

"I don't read any of them. Too ludicrous, I prefer my who dunnits."

"So the Siamese cat who solves murders isn't ludicrous then?"

"Hmmph!" I folded my arms, "Of course not Koko is just wunnerful and he has extra whiskers, so there."

"What's it called Pickax City and Brrr, aren't they just names to conjour with?" He shook his head.

"Well I like them, and I have a new one once I can find time to read it."

"Which one is this, 'The Cat who solved the Kennedy Conspiracy'?"

"Ha ha!" I said.

"Can I get you youngsters a drink?" announced the arrival of Tom Agnew.

"Really Tom, I should be buying you one," I said blushing.

"Don't worry you can earn your keep, I fancy a stew tomorrow, how about you make one?"

I felt his forehead, "What are you doing?"

"I thought you might be ill, Tom, no chicken curry."

"I'll have one tonight and another for lunch tomorrow."

"It's sunday tomorrow," I reminded him.

"God so it is, okay, do a roast tomorrow and the stew on monday."

"Your wish is my command oh master," and I stood up and curtseyed.

"You training her up for me?" asked Simon.

"Why do you want to make an offer, I believe the transfer market is open again."

"Boys please, I have had it up to here with being objectified, either sexually or for my domestic skills."

"Maybe not," said Simon shaking his head, "She talks too much." At which Tom spilled half his wine and nearly fell off his stool.

The meal was nice, I had a tuna salad with new potatoes, Simon had lasagne, and I think you can guess what Tom had. I had loads of tuna with my salad, so I think they must have opened a larger can than pubs usually do.

"How long do you think this harassment will go on?"

"Only until I die."

"Hey it's the dormouse girl," someone shouted to his friend. I cringed.

"Yeah that was some trick, I'm pretty sure it's on Youtube."

"Oh great, I'll check that out tonight."

"And I have it on DVD, whispered Tom," chuckling.

"I'm never going to live that down am I?"

"Probably not, but it isn't everyone who can juggle with dormice so erotically."

"Oh no, they want my autograph!"

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Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 170

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Sequel or Series Episode

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones
  • Shopping

Other Keywords: 

  • badger poo
  • countryside
  • walking.

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

"I was only joking Cathy, I just wanna ring the neck of that little bugger who jumped down your front."

"Why, Spike is adorable?"

"Why, if I did that in front of half the world's press, you wouldn't accuse me of being adorable?"

The image flashed through my brain making my toes curl, "No I doubt I would think you were adorable, but you're not small and furry."

"Part of me is," said a quiet voice.

Easy As Falling Off A Bike.
by Angharad
part 170.

The next morning, I awoke in the strange bed and once I remembered where I was recalled the last time I had slept here, with Simon. I felt really warm thinking about the past, it distracted me from the nuisance of the present. I lay there and reflected, a less happy thought assailed me.

I had come very close to telling Simon that day, but didn't. I wonder what would have happened if I had insisted and told him. Life could have been very different. It might have been impossible.

I tried to shift my mood by reminding myself that these things didn't happen so why worry? Deal with what is happening, it's bad enough.

My thoughts were interrupted by a tap on my bedroom door, a familiar face popped around the door. "Simon is on the phone, would you like to speak with him?"

"I suppose I'd better," I said with mock annoyance.

"Here ya go," he handed me the cordless handset, "press the green one." The door shut and I pressed the button."

"Hiya Simon," I piped down the phone.

"Hello Babe, so you got back alright?"

"Yes, no problem. Are any of them around today?"

"Just one strange car."

"Do you think anyone has put two and two together like Des did?"

"I don't know, I'll go out and get all the tabloids later and see."

"Would Des sell his story to one? I mean my story?" I hoped Simon could reassure me.

"I can't be certain, but I'm pretty sure he wouldn't."

"I mean he wouldn't want to get his own back for my rejection?"

"Good lord no, he gets about twenty rejections to the acceptance. It doesn't stop him asking mind and he rarely goes without."

I sat there for a moment wondering how someone could be that sexually motivated, it was such an alien concept to me, then I wondered what it would be like making love as a woman. I hoped it would be good. Then I wondered what it would have been like making love to Des.

"Is that okay?" asked Simon.

"Sorry, you broke up there," I lied, "I'm on a cordless and it goes faint every so often."

"I said, I'll get the papers and Stella and I will check them out and call you if there is anything."

"Oh yes, thanks that would be great." The very idea of appearing in the News Of The World, a tabloid which we used to call, News of the Screws, because of it's frequent sexual content. It had outted many a seemingly innocent transsexual just for the tittilation of its readers. "The bastards!"

"I beg your pudding?" said Simon to my outburst.

"Sorry darling, I was just thinking about all the poor people that have been needlessly exposed by tabloids."

"Yeah, okay I'll agree with you on that one. We had a master at school who was gay; I mean we all knew about it, but no one took any notice. He wasn't camp or anything; in fact he was a nice guy much liked. He was caught at a gay party and exposed, he was suspended by the trustees and topped himself. Hanged himself in his room. Never allowed The Sun, near me ever since."

"I wonder how many times that has happened?" I speculated.

"Dunno, a few times I'll bet, I mean that was like fifteen years ago, so things are a bit better. It's only because you're marrying me that there's a story."

"Maybe, or the fact that I rather foolishly get involved in other people's lives." Was I rueing what I'd done?

"Oh come off it Cath, you could hardly let the guy nick Stell's bag could you, and as for leaving that kid to burn? Well the question answers itself."

"What about the dormice?"

"They could have burned." This was a wind up to change the subject.

"You what? How dare you torment my babies like that...."

"I was only joking Cathy, I just wanna ring the neck of that little bugger who jumped down your front."

"Why, Spike is adorable?"

"Why, if I did that in front of half the world's press, you wouldn't accuse me of being adorable?"

The image flashed through my brain making my toes curl, "No I doubt I would think you were adorable, but you're not small and furry."

"Part of me is," said a quiet voice.

"What!" I gasped and nearly fell off the bed laughing.

An hour later, I was dressed and breakfasted and out with Tom and his hound. We walked over some fields and it felt good to get some fresh air and exercise, without fear of being identified.

We entered a woodland and I was able to show Tom a few things he'd have missed. Mainly birds and plants, I couldn't find any dormice, well signs of, but his dog found some badger poo and rolled in it. It stinks, even in the fresh air.

"You're quite a good naturalist aren't you?" said my mentor.

I shrugged, "Depends on who you're comparing me with."

"A lab rat like me?"

Before I could answer, his spaniel jumped up at us and we had to jump aside to avoid being rubbed with the smelly mustelid droppings. I know dogs do it to disguise their scent, but really! She couldn't understand why no one wanted to fuss her, thank goodness we hadn't come by car.

"I was going to go and get us a roasting joint," said Tom, pushing the dog away, "but I think someone needs a bath."

I sniffed under my armpits. He roared with laughter, "You silly bugger!"

We both walked on, making silly conversation to each other and laughing, while avoiding the efforts of Kiki, his spaniel, to jump up at us. I felt like being out with a father, except when I'd been out with my dad, we tolerated each other rather than indulged each other like Tom and I were. I could speculate until doomsday as to whether or not my dad would have come around to my change, if he hadn't become crippled by the stroke, and I'd still be none the wiser. So I enjoyed this piece of fun while it lasted.

By the time we were walking back to the house, Tom had his arm around me in a protective way, and I found myself enjoying it. He noticed.

"I might seem like a dirty old man, but I'm not, you remind me of someone, that's all."

"Mary told me all about it." I smiled at him, "And I don't mind, in fact it's nice, it's like being out with my dad."

He beamed at me and yet there was a hint of sadness in his eyes which he hid as soon as he saw me notice. "Long time ago, I should let it go."

I put my arm around his waist and we walked on, his arm around my shoulder.

"Sunday joint," I said.

"Oh yes, can you nip out and get one plus all the bits we need?" he asked at my prompt.

"Yes, for how many?"

"You, me, do you want to ask Simon and Stella?"

"Can do, anyone else?" I asked.

"Pippa and her boys?" He suggested.

"Might be too late for that, she probably organised what they were having a week ago."

"It looks like a good day, give her a ring, the kids can play with Kiki."

"Yes boss," I said curtseying.

I did as he asked and phoned around. Pippa said she'd love to come but the boys were at her mother's for the weekend. So I invited her by herself. Simon and Stella were happy to pig out on my cooking, and they agreed to collect Pippa, well Stella agreed for Simon, he was out collecting newsprint. I set lunch for two, a little late, but to enable me to get it ready.

I dashed to the shops and picked up a piece of silverside, some spuds for roasting, some flour to make Yorkshire puds, and assorted veg. For sweet, I decided I'd do an apple sponge, that is stewed apple with a sponge on top. I got some fresh single cream to pour over it.

Driving back, I detoured two or three times up cul de sacs, no one was following me. Daddy had my mobile number and so did the hospital, so I wasn't too worried about staying in hiding. No one was tailing me when I hid my car around the back of Tom's house.

When I carried all the shopping in, two journeys were necessary, a rather damp dog greeted me.

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The mendicant author has her comment begging bowl out again, please treat her kindly- remember Bonzi, the ultimate deterrent!

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 171

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Sequel or Series Episode

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Other Keywords: 

  • dinner
  • Cookery
  • Yorkshire puddings
  • horses and horseradish

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

"Cor, something smells nice," said Simon, handing Tom a couple of bottles of wine. He then walked up to me and embracing me said, "Yes something smells very nice." Finally, he kissed me.

Easy As Falling Off A Bike.
by Angharad & Bonzi Kiddle.
part 171.

I organised myself in the kitchen, checking utensils, knives and things and put the oven on to warm. Prepared the meat and put it safe on top of the cooker, hopefully too high for spaniels with ambition.

I got on with preparing the various veg I'd bought, starting with the potatoes. I peeled a whole saucepan full and quartered them. I parboil mine before roasting they should then be nice and soft inside.

Tom was fiddling in the house, doing something, I don't know what. I made the batter for the yorkshire puds and greased the tin, I'd bought rapeseed oil, it doesn't form transfats on heating like some do.

Then, after a cuppa, I took one to Tom who was checking his wine collection. By the time I'd drunk it, the spuds were half cooked and went in with the meat, though not in the same tin, I would want to crisp them later and shove them in the top of the oven, after the Yorkshires were done.

Then it was peeling carrots and slicing, taking the Kale off its stalks and doing some mushrooms. I also sliced an onion. These last two items went in with the joint along with the garlic I'd spread over it first, but not enough to taste other than as a hint.

It was all cooking by itself, so I found the vacuum cleaner and whizzed around with that, then checked the toilets and washbasins. Tom sniggered and shook his head.

"What's tickled you?" I asked.

"I haven't seen anyone do that since I had a woman living here."

"Meaning?" I asked assertively.

"It seems to be a woman thing."

"I didn't know it was gender selective, to clean the toilet." I wasn't sure if he was complimenting me or taking the piss.

"Cathy, I am trying to say that I appreciate a woman's touch around the place, that's all."

"Oh," I blushed. "I thought you had a woman who cleans for you."

"She does an hour or two a week, only keeps the worst of it down. It's just nice to have a female living here again, even if it's only temporary."

"Erm... I have to check the roasties," I scrambled to the kitchen, blushing furiously. They were of course fine. The clock showed one, I had an hour to finish everything.

"Are you happy to carve Tom?"

"Yes, there's one of those spiked carving dishes somewhere." I found it and wiped it over. Then began laying the table. I opened the horseradish sauce and also some English mustard, although I don't like either, too harsh for my little gob. In fact, I'd just as soon have a tuna jacket potato as all this cholesterol.

I warmed the tin for the Yorshires and spooned in the batter when it was hot enough, then whipped it back at the top of the oven. They may well be a disaster, but I was pretty sure about everything else.

Tom had changed, so I ran up and showered very quickly, threw on the first skirt and top that matched, some socks and my red boots.

I checked everything, and despite my fears the Yorkshires looked to have risen and browned, and weren't all gooey and uncooked in the middle. The veg was cooked and waiting and the roasties were browning nicely.

I ran back up to my room, did the quickest makeup job I think I've ever done, squirted some smellies, and was putting on my earrings, some dangly ones as I came down the stairs. Then combed my hair in the cloakroom, it would do, it was mostly dry.

The door bell rang and I wrapped a teatowel around me to act as a pinny, well I doubted Tom would have any, I put it on my mental list to get some more for me anyway.

Tom answered the door, whilst I stood back and kept an eye on the kitchen.

"Cor, something smells nice," said Simon, handing Tom a couple of bottles of wine. He then walked up to me and embracing me said, "Yes something smells very nice." Finally, he kissed me.

I missed the other two coming in, as the dinner needed me. I refused offers to help and began dishing up veg and carrying it through. Tom was already carving the beef which had 'rested' for a short time. Everything was coming along beautifully, when the relative peace was shattered by a commotion somewhere at the back of the house.

We all rushed to the French windows just in time to see a fox flying across his yard and into the woodshed. Shortly behind were a dozen or more large dogs, at which Tom called in his barking spaniel, before the foxhounds chewed her up instead of the fox.

Tom's house is an old farmhouse, with a rambling yard and huge garden, well a couple of fields really, which has prevented developers from building around him.

The arrival of the dogs was soon followed by the riders, breaking down hedges and fences. Hunters are big horses and quite intimidating to people like me. I may be a sagittarian but I am shit scared of large horseflesh, but not of the small brained twat on it's back.

Tom charged out swearing and threatening, who ever was in charge of the hunt, which is supposed to be a drag hunt, as killing animals with dogs is currently prohibited, although no one has told the dogs. So if they get a scent of a fox, it's business as usual.

I felt this total conflict within me. I despise hunting and wanted to get out there and shout and scream at the fools on the horses which were shitting all over Toms yard and garden. The horses I mean, although the way Tom was ranting, the riders might also be filling their pants.

My conflict was my anger with the hunters and my fear of the horses. I stood back with Stella and Pippa as Simon tried to calm things down, pulling Tom off the one rider who had dismounted. The dogs were going bananas around the woodshed but were too big to get in after the fox.

Another rider dismounted and was now jostling Simon, not a good idea. I told Pippa to call the police, and began to join the fray. Anger was now stronger.

The third rider, who was about to grab Simon who had just whacked the second one, didn't see me coming, or the brush I had in my hand. I whipped it up hard between his legs from behind, he squealed and turned around and I laid him out with a second whack to the chin.

Those on horseback who didn't retreat got whacked and they did after that. Someone grabbed me and the brush, but Stella hit him on the behind with the small whip dropped by the one the one I'd knocked down. He turned around and my elbow met his solar plexus and a moment later Simon's knuckles gave him breathing problems. "Leave her alone you bastard," he said or something like it.

Tom and the first rider were still arguing furiously when the sound of police sirens got everyone's attention.

Two police crews arrived and after an hour of furious claims and counter claims, of affray and trespass, criminal damage, assault, grievous bodily harm, attempted murder, cruelty to animals, high treason and blasphemy, the hunt withdrew and promised to pay for the damage caused.

We all retired back to the dining room, where a certain spaniel was asleep and the carved, roast joint had disappeared.

"Your dinner is in the dog," I said and the place erupted with laughter. The veg had stayed warm, although with a tin of corned beef, wasn't quite the same.

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Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 172

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Sequel or Series Episode

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

"She was in dark colours and wobbling all over the road," said Stella winking. "Little did I know that the caterpillar I collided with, was going to transform into such a lovely butterfly."

Pippa looked confused at Stella's statement.

"It was a boy who fell off the bike," offered Stella.

"You have completely lost me," said Pippa.

Easy As Falling Off A Bike.
by Angharad.
part 100 + 6 doz.

This episode is dedicated to Erin's Mum, who passed away earlier today.
______________________________________________________________________

The meal was okay I suppose, and I accepted help in clearing it up, although I had tried to do some as I went along.

"There are aprons in the bottom drawer," called Tom, settling down to chat with Simon. It was too dark to try and do temporary repairs to the fence, so they resolved to empty the wine bottles instead.

Sure enough, Stella pulled out a pinny from the drawer and handed it to me, "Here we are hostess with the mostest." It was one with a bib so I slipped it over my neck and tied the waist ties.

I gave Stella the teacloth, although there was nothing to dry with it as yet. Rinsing everything off, I put most of it in the dishwasher, keeping the glasses out. I prefer to do glasses by hand.

"Is life always this exciting?" asked Pippa.

"Only when Cathy is around," said Stella. "I mean I only got to meet her when she crashed her bike into my car."

"What!" I shrieked dropping a large pan with a clatter.

Stella roared and I realised I had been 'done' again. Don't these two ever stop?

"Is that how you met?" asked Pippa.

"Yes," I said asserting control of the conversation, "I was happily riding along and your assistant there," I indicated Stella, "knocked me off it and into a hedge."

"I reckon you wobbled into me," she replied, "and she had no lights on."

"It was the middle of the afternoon." I insisted. Pippa looked horrified, I was winning the argument.

"It was as dark as night and torrential rain. I only found you lying in the hedge because of a flash of lightning."

"I was wearing bright yellow cycling skins."

Pippa's head went from one to the other as if she were watching us playing tennis.

"She was in dark colours and wobbling all over the road," said Stella winking. "Little did I know that the caterpillar I collided with, was going to transform into such a lovely butterfly."

Pippa looked confused at Stella's statement.

"It was a boy who fell off the bike," offered Stella.

"You have completely lost me," said Pippa.

"It was Charlie not Cathy who fell off the bike." Stella's attempt to explain looked as if it had had the opposite effect.

"What he changed into a girl afterwards? Did he bang his head or something?"

"No that was later in the pub, and that was Cathy." Stella was really confusing things, but I was having so much fun seeing her screw it up even more that I kept out of it.

"You have confused me even more."

"She was still a he officially then, but because he had no clothes on, he had to borrow some of mine and became a she."

Even I was having difficulty now.

"How can someone become the opposite sex just by wearing their clothes?" Pippa asked a reasonable question.

"And Simon fancied her immediately, and she fell for him in a big way."

"Who did?" Pippa shook her head.

"Only because I got my foot caught in a rug and landed on top of him." I added to the confusion.

"Covered him in red wine, his best shirt too, lying on top of him as bold as brass." Stella said and Pippa's eyes widened.

"I couldn't get up, my heel caught in my skirt." I pleaded.

"A likely tale, ya floosie, I saw ya rubbin' yer body against him."

At this point Pippa went into overload and began giggling. "This is like a joke isn't it?"

"Then he took her on her first date and she locked herself in the loos and banged her head, then she burns out his clutch or something and flirts with the repair man."

"What?"

"Stella shut up." I instructed. "Now what really happened was...." and I explained the whole first day of my transition.

"So you were already on hormones?"

"Yes, but hadn't had the time or courage to start the process."

"So I jump started her!" smiled Stella and we all fell about laughing.

"How long ago was all this, a couple of years?"

"July."

"What last year?" Pippa looked confused again. Stella shook her head. "Not this last July?" asked Pippa and Stella nodded. "You are joking?"

"No, it's true, 16th of July."

"That is incredible?" said Pippa her hands up to her mouth.

"What is?" I asked, closing the dishwasher.

"Well, you, that's what."

"Me?" Now it was my turn to show confusion. I looked from Stella to Pippa and back again, it offered no help. "Explain, if you will."

"I thought you were a natural woman until you told me otherwise. There is no way you could achieve that in five or six months."

"Well it's been more of a lifetime's journey, but only officially and publicly since July."

"Jesus, that is amazing. I saw you talking to the press the other day, you had them enthralled with you and that little furry thing."

"Nah, that was Spike, one of the world's great exhibitionists." I smirked, then blushed when I remembered how it ended with a frightened, furry flurry flying down my front.

"That was a woman, all woman, who commanded that crowd."

"What? What did I do?" I implored her because I didn't have a clue what I had done.

"You seduced every man and showed solidarity with every woman, even those who were jealous of your youth and good looks."

"I did?" this was news to me.

"You are just a natural communicator and sensual with it."

At this moment I was a tongued tied, blushing mass of confusion.

"Where's the cloakroom Cathy?" asked Simon poking his head into the kitchen, "You hot or something, you look rather red."

"Just been bending down loading the dishwasher." It was a lie, but a white one, and I escorted him to get me out of the kitchen, as they say, I couldn't stand the heat, so I got out.

"No, I don't believe she was ever really a boy either," I could still hear the two women discussing me.

"Did you really bash her head with the toilet door?"

"Fraid so, but I was actually trying to help her." Stella recounted. I felt my skull, the lump had disappeared now, I had wonderd if there might be lasting brain damage. Maybe there was.

"Anybody want a cuppa?" I asked loudly.

"What tea?" Tom shouted from the dining room.

"What else?" I shouted back.

"Coffee?"

"Where do you think you are, The Ritz?"

"If I was I'd have complained about the food, now make some coffee woman."

In a huff, I reentered the kitchen, and boiled the kettle. I found Tom's ground coffee and made a pot when the kettle boiled. The two women were now sat in the lounge still talking about me, except Simon had also become part of the topic of conversation.

"....What like love at first sight," said Pippa's voice.

"Oh I think so for both of them," added Stella's.

I shook my head and poured the coffees, delivering them to both men and women. Both pairs were busy chatting.

"So you're fed up with the cook then?" said Simon, slyly glancing at me.

"Well yes, she led me to expect great things, but I mean, fancy letting a dog eat the main course."

"The pudding was okay," said Simon, "and personally, I think the owner of the dog is to blame."

"Do you think so?" asked Tom. I was convinced the conversation was entirely for my benefit. At the least the women thought they were being honest, or as close to it as Stella usually managed.

I went back out to the kitchen and made myself some tea and leafed through The Observer.

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Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 173

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Sequel or Series Episode

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Other Keywords: 

  • dogs
  • Dormouse / Dormice / Dormeece

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

We continued drinking our teas and talking until we were interrupted by a shout of anguish. I jumped up and ran out into the lounge.

"What's happening?" I asked.

"Kiki, she's rolled in horse shit and gone belting out through the hole in the fence."

Easy As Falling Off A Bike
by Angharad
part 173.

I waited until the dishwasher had finished, then emptied it, checking everything as I did, I have known them miss bits, but it was all sparkling clean. The glasses I'd collected, were washed and dried long since.

The kitchen having been restored to a state of order, I went off to see what the others were doing. "Grab us a bottle of red will you babes," asked Simon, otherwise deep in conversation with Tom about cricket and England being humiliated by Sri Lanka or India or someone.

I went off and got them some more wine. I felt like protesting but, they were both ready to drink it. Obviously Stella would be driving.

I checked on the girls, "More coffee or tea?"

"Tea would be nice," said Stella and Pippa nodded. "Come and sit and talk with us when you've made it."

"Yes ma'am," I curtseyed, then dashed out before she threw something at me.

Taking the pot of tea and some biscuits in, I poured us each a cup and then sat down to listen to the conversation.

"Where have you been?" asked Stella.

"Emptying the dishwasher, checking around the kitchen and reading the paper."

"So any mention of anything?"

"There was mention of the film clip on Youtube about the dormouse, as being one of the funniest press conferences ever. But nothing about me per se."

"Nah, we went through the tabloids and none of them had anything."

"So what does that mean?" I asked.

"Could be no one has noticed or that it's no longer newsworthy, which it isn't."

"If Simon wasn't involved or that ruddy dormouse, I would agree. But unfortunately, the two of them mean there is a story." I said.

"It's pretty pathetic though isn't it?" Pippa said it as if she was annoyed. "Can't they find real stories to write about?"

"Transsexuals tend to be vulnerable and cheap to hit," I suggested, "plus they use the excuse of, 'public or human interest' to justify their intrusion."

"I spoke to Daddy this morning, and he has had a statement prepared, which says something to the effect that, 'He isn't worried what you may or may not have been, only that you are a lovely young woman now of whom Simon is justly proud, and deeply in love."

"Awww that is just so sweet," said Pippa.

"Perhaps a trifle over cooked," I observed and Stella winked at me then smirked.

"I said much the same, but he was happy with it. Anyway, he's showing solidarty with us but not starting anything. He had another one prepared in case they ask for a statement for something else."

"What do you mean something else?" asked Pippa.

"Well if they just get wind that something is in the air but don't know what. I mean Cathy stopping a car load of journalists the other day is not going to ingratiate her with that crowd. So they may decide that they can wheedle it out of Daddy, except they don't understand him, if they think they can."

"Oh, well that must be good to know?" said Pippa.

"Yes, Henry's a good sort," I said, "apart from wanting to use that bloody photo."

"Well it's out in the public domain now, so there isn't much point in complaining, is there?" suggested Stella and she had a point, but then she wasn't in the photo.

We continued drinking our teas and talking until we were interrupted by a shout of anguish. I jumped up and ran out into the lounge.

"What's happening?" I asked.

"Kiki, she's rolled in horse shit and gone belting out through the hole in the fence."

"Well you knew it was there," I chided Tom, I could have added silly man.

"I did, but not at the moment I let her out." He wobbled by the French window.

"You are drunk," I accused.

"Yes madam but you are beautiful, and tomorrow I'll be sober. No that's wrong..." he muttered to himself, mixing up a quote from Winston Churchill.* I knew what it was, but I let him work it out for himself.

I grabbed my coat and told the girls I was going to look for Kiki. Pippa decided to come with me. We found the lead in the kitchen and a torch and set off in the direction the silly spaniel had taken.

We must have looked rather stupid, calling out the dog's name and peering into drives and gardens. About half an hour later, I spotted something, "There she is, look down there," I pointed.

"Cor, you've got good eyesight?" said Pippa.

"Maybe, it could also be I am more practised at working in the dark."

"Oh doing the dormouse thingy?"

"Yep, come on or she'll run off." We trotted down the road and sure enough it was our smelly, greedy spaniel. I slipped the lead onto the collar and we walked her home. Once on the lead she was quite good, walking to another bath, she knew nothing about.

We walked back to the hole in the fence and found the two men there with shovels, I presumed trying to clear up the horse droppings, but they were so drunk, they were spreading it more about than shifting it. Stella was watching killing herself laughing.

"Wouldn't it have been quicker for you to do that?" I asked her.

"I offered but neither of the silly buggers would let me."

"Oh no!" shrieked Pippa, and I turned around just in time to see Tom sit in the biggest pile and laugh himself silly.

"And I thought I was strange?" I said to myself.

"Another one for the bath," called Stella. She and I helped him up, his trousers and back were plastered but otherwise he was okay, and was unhurt, the most important element. He was still laughing when I ran upstairs and grabbed his dressing gown, while Stella helped him disrobe in the kitchen, at least down to his undies.

Then she helped him upstairs and waited while he showered. Menwhile, I had ordered Simon indoors like a naughty schoolboy, and Pippa and I shifted the shit in about ten minutes. The dog was tied up and barking at us the whole time.

Finally, I changed and found the tin bath that Tom used for spaniel shampooing, seeing this, the dog tried to hang herself in escaping. But there was no escape, and once I found a pair of rubber gloves and the dog shampoo, she was in the warm water and scrubbed closer to godliness. I dried her with an old towel I found and shut her in the utility room, where she normally slept. It was quite warm in there and she'd dry soon enough, stupid dog.

When I got back in, I discovered Simon was zonked on the sofa in the lounge and according to Stella, Tom was similarly so in his bed.

"What are we going to do with him?" I asked.

"I've tried waking him but he's really gone," Stella spoke loudly over Simon's snoring. "Look I'll take Pippa home and then we can decide what we do, feel free to try and wake him."

"Is it worth it?" I asked.

"Doubt it, put the kettle on, won't be long."

I said my goodbyes to Pippa who promised to phone me the next day and let me know if the press were still about. Stella took her home.

I was seated at the table in the kitchen when she rang the doorbell. I got up from the unfinished crossword, and clicked the switch on the kettle again.

We drank the tea and between us finished the crossword, congratulating each other on team work. Then we tried to wake Simon. He wouldn't budge.

"I suppose I'd better go home and come back for him?" said Stella.

I looked at the time, "It's past twelve Stella, wouldn't it be easier to stay here and try to shift him in the morning? There is another bedroom."

"Yeah okay, I shall kill him slowly tomorrow," she said.

"Unless I wake first," I smiled and we high fived each other.

I showed her upstairs, and went to get a spare nightie for her. The spare room had a bed but it wasn't made up. "Look Cathy, your's is a double, I'll share with you."

"Erm okay," I gulped.

* Churchill is reputed to have been seen by one of his constituents when he was totally rat-arsed, a common occurrence, he was an alcoholic. She said to him disdainfully, "Mr Churchill you are drunk!"

He replied, "Yes madam, I am, but you are ugly and I shall be sober in the morning."

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 174

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Sequel or Series Episode

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Other Keywords: 

  • Naked women
  • sleeping together
  • ghosts?

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

"What's your problem, haven't you ever seen a naked woman before?" she asked.

"Erm, not really," I blushed like a flash bulb and didn't know where to look, but wished the ground would swallow me up.

Easy As Falling Off A Bike.
by Angharad
part 14.5 dozen.

"Which side are you going to sleep?" asked Stella.

"I erm, don't mind." I was not sure this was a good idea although I scolded myself. We were both girls so what was I worried about? I felt my skull, the lump had gone the memory hadn't. I had run away from Stella at the pub, I couldn't now. I hoped that it was just my imagination, I mean she goes out with John and she sleeps over with him, I presume it's him anyway.

"Okay, well I'll have this side, nearest the door." She said throwing the nightie on the pillow, and began to strip off.

I had seen Stella naked, okay, nearly naked in her bra and pants, and she had seen me in all my glory, so it should be alright. Shouldn't it? I thought then of Monica the nympho, then blushed before I recalled she was a step mother. Phew!

"You going to stand there all night?" Stella was now down to her undies.

"Erm, no, I was just hoping Simon will be alright. You don't think I ought to go and sleep with him, just in case, do you?"

"What in case he catches bird flu and they have to shoot him?" She laughed at her own joke.

"No in case he was sick and inhaled his own you know?"

"Vomit, the word is vomit. I doubt it, this is not the first time he has passed out through alcohol and probably won't be the last. So I wouldn't worry."

"I erm do, I worry that he drinks too much."

"He does but his liver function tests were okay last time I got them done."

"Oh, I'm glad to hear it."

"Hopefully when he's under your thumb properly, you can curb his erroneous ways," the cackle that came with the remark made me doubt she meant it with any seriousness."

"Are you coming to bed tonight?"

"Yes of course I am," I don't know if my voice wavered as Stella stripped off completely.

"What's your problem, haven't you ever seen a naked woman before?" she asked.

"Erm, not really," I blushed like a flash bulb and didn't know where to look, but wished the ground would swallow me up.

"No of course you wouldn't have would you, unless it was a photo or porno film."

"I don't see either of those as other than demeaning women." I said getting all feminist.

"I agree, but it helps a lot of schoolboys find their way around their dates." She laughed again and I went off thinking about fruit, then realised she was talking about another sort of date.

"Do you want to look or touch, purely educational, of course?"

"No thanks, I'll live with any uncertainties," I said still averting my eyes.

"Okay, cor when it's cold doesn't it make your nipples stand up, have you noticed?" She was continuing to tease me.

"Yes I am aware of it," I answered turning around to undress when I got to my bra. I left my panties on to hide my dangly bits, then hurriedly threw on my nightdress.

"I think it's back to front old girl," said Stella laughing again.

When I'd managed to turn it around without removing it she said, "That's better, but it's still inside out."

"Oh sod it," I said loudly and tore it off, pulled it right way out and put it on again.

"They've grown a bit," said Stella, pointing a finger at my chest.

I blushed and said, "Have they, I hadn't noticed."

She roared with laughter, "If you haven't noticed then your bras must be awfully tight."

"Oh that's what it was, " I slapped my forehead, "duh!"

She laughed again and I saw her still naked breasts bounce and quiver as she did so. My eyes were probably out on stalks.

"It's warmer than I thought, I don't think I need a nightie after all." With that she pulled back the bed clothes and got in, "After all, I've got you to keep me warm."

I nearly fell over.

She was almost rolling about laughing, "Cathy, the look on your face is priceless, come on you silly girl, I'm not going to eat you." She patted the bed and as I sat down, added, "Unless you eat me first."

"I'm not hungry," I said, and the bed shook with her convulsions.

"You are safe, honest," she sniggered.

I got in and thought, Sod it!

"What time will you want to get up?" I asked picking up my small travelling alarm clock.

"Oh between five and six."

"Are you sure, that's like four hours from now." It was already nearly one.

"It was enough for Maggie Thatcher," came back her reply.

"Yeah but she was only Prime Minister, you have a proper job to do."

"That's true. Well aren't you going to kiss me goodnight and read me a story?"

"No." I said it and lay down.

"Okay, well I'll kiss you and tell you a story."

"No thanks, I'm fine," I rolled over with my back towards the centre of the bed. "Goodnight." I switched off the lamp my side of the bed.

"Oh all right, goodnight to you too." She switched off her lamp. Then pushed her back against mine. She felt cold against me.

Somehow we both managed to fall asleep, well I did anyway and I awoke conscious that she was curled around me with her right hand cupping my breast.

I listened to her breathing, it was regular and slow. I reckoned she was asleep, and I moved her hand a little down to my belly. I started to drift off again, only for her hand to cup my breast again. I moved her hand three times and it floated back up to my boob. In the end I gave up, it was nearly three o'clock, I needed some sleep.

Suddenly a voice behind me said, "What the hell was that? It wasn't a ghost was it?" And the owner of it squeezed hard on my tit, waking me instantly.

"What?" I said pulling the hand off my right breast.

"That, can't you hear it?" said the voice, I recognised as Stella's, and presumed the hand squeezing my breast again was her's too.

I sat up and listened, "It's probably Simon crashing around downstairs."

"No it wasn't, it sounded like an unearthly wail."

I sat listening, only wanting to go back to the slumber from which I had been so rudely awoken.

"Oooh, there it is again," Stella shot towards me shaking.

I certainly heard something. I listened again. Sure enough a couple of minutes later, there was a horrible, Woooooooooooooooo sound. I started to laugh.

"What is it, a ghost?" she asked, still shaking and her body clamped to mine.

I was tempted to say yes, but didn't, she'd keep me awake the rest of the night if I did. So I told the truth. "It's the dog, probably howling in her sleep."

"Dog? I thought they only barked."

"Spaniels howl sometimes, usually when they're asleep, so God knows what they dream about."

"How do you know that?" she asked.

"I'm a zoologist, trust me." I lay back down and went to sleep, with her clamped to me in terror.

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 175

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Sequel or Series Episode

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Other Keywords: 

  • Humour? No M&S humour!

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

"I hope your squeal about doctors doesn't mean you are getting cold feet?"

"It's not just my feet which are cold," I said.

"Oh dear, does that mean you are having second thoughts?"

Easy As Falling Off A Bike.
by: Her with the red hair.
Part: one and three quarter hundreds.

We were surviving, the meteor storm was all around us but the force-field around Tardis held. I looked at the Doctor again, he was so dishy and so commanding. He was calling instructions to me and I just pushed buttons or pulled levers.

Suddenly bells started ringing and I felt things moving, a meteor had struck the Tardis and the Doctor was being sucked out into space. I felt something grab me, a hideous alien. I struggled then I felt myself falling too.

I screamed, opening my eyes as I hit the carpet on the bedroom floor. The alarm was still beeping, bloody thing and the 'alien' who'd tried to grab me was looking over the bed at me giggling.

"That was so funny, the alarm went off and you started to fall off the bed squealing, something about a doctor. When I tried to grab you, you shrieked and pushed me away."

I was as yet still lying on the floor, the duvet half on and half off the bed, and I felt about as energetic as one of the zombies from 'Shaun of the Dead'.

I was wanting to say something witty back, but my brain felt as if it had been put into cryogenic storage, and the only retort which came was a yawn. I was too tired even to laugh.

"I hope your squeal about doctors doesn't mean you are getting cold feet?"

"It's not just my feet which are cold," I said.

"Oh dear, does that mean you are having second thoughts?"

"No, it's the lack of duvet and winter temperatures." As I tried to untangle myself, Stella fell back on the bed laughing. Is there anything which doesn't make this woman laugh? A room full of Stellas would be the ideal audience for a comedian, mind you he'd probably be deaf when they'd finished.

I stood up and shivered, finally reaching the alarm clock and shutting off its irritating noise. I was now wide awake but had a head like the proverbial bucket, so how Simon was going to feel completely baffled me.

Most of me wanted to get back into the bed before it cooled down too much, the rest decided that I needed to act as the hostess and help my future husband and sister in law, get some breakfast. Duty won, doesn't it always? I grabbed a sweatshirt and some pants and pulled them on over the nightdress, then I scuffed into my slippers. It wasn't elegant, but it was warm and I was too tired to even think about breathing let alone about fashion.

I got downstairs, there was no sign of Simon. Where was he? I rushed into the kitchen, the kettle was hot to the touch. I raced around all the downstairs rooms feeling tired and weepy, where was he?

As I went into the dining room for the second time, he was just coming in through the French window with Kiki on her lead. "Hi sweety pie, the dog needed to go somewhere."

"How do you feel?" I asked waiting for him to confess to a headache or palpitations, or something. Because that's how I felt.

"Great," he grabbed me and hugged me, "Love you."

"I love you too, don't you feel at all hung over?"

"No, why should I?"

"Because you had at least a whole bottle of wine yesterday, that's why."

"Nah, doesn't worry me. I take it Stella is still here?"

"Yes, we decided it was easier for you both to sleep here than try and get you home."

"Sorry about that," is what he said but I doubt he really meant it.

"The amount you drink worries me Simon."

"It's okay, so you don't need to worry."

"Okay with you or with me?" I asked wishing I hadn't started this conversation.

"Just okay, I haven't got time to debate the issue now. Where is that bloody woman?"

At that Stella appeared in the kitchen. "Good morning brother," she addressed to Simon.

"Get your coat on girl, we're late." He handed her her coat and bag.

"What no coffee?"

"Move," he said angrily.

"Hey, just a minute." I said the irritation showing in my voice and body language. "The only reason you are late is because you got yourself drunk as a lord and then unconscious."

Simon roared at the 'drunk as a lord' element of my statement and it is very difficult to stay angry when someone is laughing, but I managed it.

"So don't you dare take it out on your sister for your own mistakes!"

"Finished?" he asked.

"Why?" I asked fuming.

"Boy you are so lovely when you are angry."

He ran off when I started throwing things at him.

I heard two voices call, "Bye," and the door slammed shut. It was half past five. I didn't know what they were on, but I could have done with some.

I went back to the kettle and made a pot of tea and poured myself a cup. Then I had to rest my head a moment, so I sat at the kitchen table with it resting on my forearms. I was still there an hour later when Tom found me complete with cold cuppa.

I heard the kettle click on again and with difficulty, I rose up. "Oh hi," I said yawning.

"Simon and Stella gone?" he asked making coffee.

"Yeah about half five." I yawned again.

"I think you need a bit more sleep, so go back to bed."

"I can't, I have things to do."

"Such as?"

"The project."

"You are not going anywhere near the project like that, it will take too long to undo any mistakes you make. Go to bed, NOW." The instruction was unmistakeable, even in my zonked out state, so I stopped arguing and went back to bed.

I took a while to get off to sleep, but I managed it eventually and awoke about half past ten, feeling much better. I showered and still wearing only a towel, called Pippa.

"There's been one suspicious character hanging around but nobody much."

"See you later." I hung up before she could respond, and dressed in my cycling gear. I was so muffled up against the cold, I could have been anyone. Which was how I got into the university and got them to notify my tutorial students I was open for business.

"Is that your bike?" asked Tim.

I nodded my response.

"Cool," he said and took his seat with the rest of the group.

It wasn't the best tutorial I'd done but they seemed satisfied that we had looked at the issues that concerned them.

"Thanks for your solidarity over the last few days."

Ivan chose to respond for the group. "Prof Agnew said the press were after you and that he'd appreciate our support in not talking to them. We just encouraged everyone else to do the same."

"Well, hopefully it's cooled off a bit now." Did I believe what I had just said, or was it wishful thinking?

"Don't matta," said Ivan, "anyone who says anything is in big bovver."

"Please don't threaten anyone on my behalf Ivan." I urged him.

"It isn't a threat, no one will talk to anyone who breaks ranks."

"What an old fashioned shunning?" I asked amazed.

"It works, or has done so far."

"Until they offer money." I suggested.

"Nah, they won't enjoy it if they do, we'll make sure of it." Said Louise.

"Crikey, don't ever let me fall foul of you lot. Is that why you're seeing me for tutoring?"

"Don't ask questions then no one will tell lies. But no it ain't, you just happen to be da best."

"Ivan, you look far too nice to be a gangsta." I smiled at him.

"Look bitch don't mess wid me or I'll tell my mummy." His voice got higher at the end and we all fell about laughing.

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Feel free, oh and feel free to add comments or recipes.

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 176

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Sequel or Series Episode

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Other Keywords: 

  • Blackmail
  • Press
  • threats
  • cycling
  • excrement & air conditioning.

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

"You realise how embarrassing this could be for your fiance?"

"What, when he sues you?" I felt so angry.

"I like you Charlie, you've got balls! Oh dear I shouldn't have said that, now you won't like me."

"Go to hell." I suggested very loudly.

"No, I think that's where you're going to go tomorrow if you don't talk to me."

Easy As Falling Off A Bike.
by:Wassername.
part: 12x14.66666666666666666666666666666666666666666666666666666666'

I had just finished the tutorial and was having a quick cuppa before I started on some letters for the project, when the phone rang.

"Hello?" I said into the handpiece.

"Is that Cathy Watts?"

"Speaking, who is that?" I didn't recognise the voice, but that was nothing new, could be someone from a uni up country.

"You don't know me..." why was my stomach flipping over?

"I work for a well regarded newspaper and would like to speak with you regarding your forthcoming marriage to Lord Cameron."

"Sorry, I don't do interviews," I snapped.

"But I think you'll talk to me?" said the voice full of it's own conviction.

"I wouldn't bet on it." I said and was about to put the phone down.

"Does Lord Cameron realise he's going to marry a boy?"

"I beg your pardon?" I said meaning, what the fuck?

"Does he know you're a boy?"

My head was spinning and I felt sick. I wanted to run screaming, but I needed to know if he was bluffing or if he knew something.

"If I was, I don't think Simon would have asked me." I bluffed back.

"Well now, perhaps he doesn't know."

"Perhaps neither do you."

"Oh I know alright."

"Good for you, even if you are wrong."

"You realise how embarrassing this could be for your fiance?"

"What, when he sues you?" I felt so angry.

"I like you Charlie, you've got balls! Oh dear I shouldn't have said that, now you won't like me."

"Go to hell." I suggested very loudly.

"No, I think that's where you're going to go tomorrow if you don't talk to me."

"What do you mean?" I was feeling very sick at this point.

"Unless you tell us what is going on, we shall go with what we have and that is interesting enough to make the front pages."

"Of what?"

"Oh that would be telling."

"Fuck Off!" I said very loudly.

"Very ladylike I'm sure. Will Viscount Stanebury be impressed? I don't think so."

I said nothing, desperately trying to find a way out of this nightmare.

"I did so enjoy your dormouse juggling." Continued the voice.

I put the phone down and burst into tears. Then pulling myself together, I called Pippa.

"I've just had some seedy tabloid journalist on the phone, they seem to know and they're going to do a story."

"Oh sh..ugar!" she said back. "Prof Agnew has gone to a meeting, what can we do?"

I don't know, I don't know," I said tears rolling down my face.

"Have you spoken to Simon?"

"I can't he's working."

"Send him a text and tell Stella as well."

"Good thinking Batman." I managed to squeeze out in between sniffs, texting while crying makes it much harder to see the letters on the small screen.

'Press seem 2 know about my past. Have sum1 snoopin now, wants i/view. Gonna do runna, back 2 Toms. LOL C.xxx'

I pressed send and then repeated it for Stella. Both were working, so I didn't expect any response. I was in the shit and didn't know what to do. Then I had an idea.

I punched in the digits, it rang the other end. "Hello?" said the male voice.

"Hi Des, it's Cathy Watts."

"Oh yes, we never did get that bike ride."

"If you promise not to try and seduce me, we could yet."

"Erm, that's a big promise."

"I need a favour."

"That's a very big promise," he said with emphasis.

"Simon would kill you."

"True, but it was a nice thought."

I shook my head, here I am going out of my mind and he's playing sex games!

"So what's the problem gorgeous?"

"The press are after me again."

"Still you mean?"

I'm at my wits end and he wants to discuss semantics? "Still, again, it doesn't matter. Some guy just phoned me and asked me if Simon knew he was marrying a boy."

"Wunnerful, the old blackmail stuff, talk to me or we'll fuck you up, yes?"

"Pretty well I think. What should I do?"

"That my sweetheart is a good question. Essentially you can go and talk to him, or you can refuse and see what he has got when he publishes. If you do speak to him, then make sure you have someone in authority who has some experience of dealing with the press, or he'll shaft you royally. How much did you say on the phone?"

I tried to remember, my mind was blank. "I don't remember, not a lot. But he did mention Charlie, my old name."

"Okay, let's assume he has the basis of a story, he's either checking it out or he's not sure enough to go with it. Did you deny it?"

"I can't remember, I sort of did."

"Well if you called up some woman and asked her if she used to be a boy, what would you expect in response?"

"I don't know, she'd either laugh or swear at me."

"Exactly, what did you do?"

"I swore at him eventually."

"Eventually, what does that mean?"

"I don't know," I sobbed sniffing and snorting into the phone.

"Come on girl, pull yourself together, you have to fight back not go all girly on me."

"How can I fight back, I don't even know who I'm fighting," I sobbed, "I've done nothing wrong," I wailed.

"Yeah, just different, Simon is the attraction and the fact that you are so damned pretty." He paused. "He didn't tell you who he was working for or who he was?"

"No, he didn't tell me anything about himself." I was sobbing more quietly now.

"Okay, do you want to really shaft him?"

"Yes, what have I got to do?"

"Give an exclusive to someone else, someone you trust, or at least a paper or TV channel you trust."

"WHAT!" I shouted probably damaging his hearing for several weeks.

"I think you heard what I said, it's the only way you can stop him. If you've gone live first he has no story, plus you may get to control the content a little more."

"What you mean talk to you?"

"If you really wanted to, I suppose I could see you tomorrow, but I'm busy really. Is there a newpaper you trust?"

"One of the heavies, Guardian or Independent, Times or Telegraph at a push."

"I know someone on the Guardian, or you could talk to the Beeb again, same news team."

"Oh God, I don't know Des, Oh I feel sick..." I dropped the phone and rushed to the prep room sink and brought up the soup I'd had for lunch.

"Hi I'm back, sorry, I was sick."

"Okay beautiful, I can appreciate how you feel. Can you get up to Bristol and I'll set up an interview."

"God, it's a long way to go to commit suicide on telly." I felt really negative.

"No, that's a good thing. It will mean it goes out on a national bulletin, so impact locally will be reduced, you've stolen their thunder. Look I've got to go, I have an appointment, ring me in a couple of hours and if you want, I'll set things up. Don't talk to anyone without someone with you, okay?"

"Thanks Des, I'm sorry I was so horrible to you."

"I was an arsehole Cathy, you responded appropriately. Give me a ring."

"Okay, thanks Des." I put the phone down. It was three pm. I had no lights on my bike, so I needed to go in case I had to detour. Shit this was not going to be much fun.

I changed into my cycling gear and told Pippa I was going home. She warned me to be careful, and to remember what happened last time I fell off a bike. She had a point.

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 177

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Sequel or Series Episode

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Other Keywords: 

  • cycling
  • car chase
  • falling off a bike
  • scary.

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

I'm not as fit as I might be, but I wasn't in too bad a condition, so winding my way between traffic and pedestrians shouldn't prove too challenging. I hadn't counted on a pedestrian with a brain smaller than an amoeba's testicle.

Easy As Falling Off A Bike.
by Angharad.
part 177.

I wheeled my bike to the rear entrance and clipped into the pedals. If I was followed, I would head for traffic, the more the congestion the better.

I was still wrapped up against the cold, so I wasn't sure if I was recognised or not. Part of me wanted to see my opponents, it would make them more physical and thus more beatable, not some nebulous, nasty voice on a phone.

I wondered how they had found me, but that was fairly obvious - I had hardly kept a low profile. If I hadn't got involved with Simon, I'd probably have been allowed to remain in relative obscurity except in maybe professional circles.

Well no good crying over spilt milk, even if Simon and I finished tomorrow, the press would still find me interesting as Dormouse Girl, or the Thief Catcher, or Child Rescuer. I should have stuck to something like stamp collecting. That made me laugh, stick to stamps.

I zipped past the front of the university and was spotted, how do I know someone dashed to a car. That suggested an inside source. The car he got into was a Chelsea tractor, good, they were going to enjoy this not.

I trundled on watching them faffing about in the traffic, these were probably different creeps to the ones I upset in Bristol. I had a thought. If I went to Bristol, then I'd have to avoid Dad's house like the plague, they know about that, so I either stay in a hotel or drive up.

The 4x4 had got a little closer, the darkened windows meant I couldn't see who was in it. Bugger, oh well, so long suckers.

I had about a mile of flat, busy road to negotiate. I was actually heading away from Tom's but I was giving them a wild-dormouse chase. I made sure they could see me, then I waved to them and stepped on it.

I'm not as fit as I might be, but I wasn't in too bad a condition, so winding my way between traffic and pedestrians shouldn't prove too challenging. I hadn't counted on a pedestrian with a brain smaller than an amoeba's testicle.

The aformentioned road hazard was in the form of an old lady who was threading her way through the cars as they were moving. In America she'd have been guilty of jaywalking, over here, just using up the patience of her guardian angel and some of my nine lives.

She was busy, head down darting, perhaps an exaggeration, but moving purposefully if erratically between cars and buses. I was sprinting down the middle of the road at nigh on thirty miles an hour - it was flat.

We met about ten yards from a crossing, hence my questioning her nervous system. We didn't actually collide, thank God, but it was enough to make me swerve and end up sitting on top of the bonnet of a car. I also called her a few names. She dithered some more and wound in between some more cars.

The sooner she was locked up or run over the better for other road users. I was so angry and shaking, the man on whose bonnet I rested my bum, wasn't too pleased either.

"You were going too fast," he grumbled.

"I have two assassins chasing me, and why was that stupid cow walking in the road, there's a crossing down there?"

"You have a vivid imagination young woman. Assassins, very funny."

I shook my head, there was no damage and at least with him stopping, the traffic flow did the same, until I spotted the four wheel drive coming down the middle of the road.

Oh shit! I jumped back on the bike and rode back up the pavement against the traffic. Not something I would ever condone, but I was in a hurry.

Of course they spotted me and turned round, tyres screaming and set off in pursuit.

"Maybe she was telling the truth?" said the strange little man whose bonnet had been blessed with my bum, noticing the antics of the large Toyota Land Cruiser.

I knew that one of the roads to my left, I was now cycling on the road again, was a cul de sac with a footpath at the end. I'll lead them up there, I thought to myself.

I did just that, and they saw me go down the footpath flanked by two fences of larchlap boarding. I was just at the far end when I saw the car come crashing through it. Shit, these guys don't take no for an answer. To start with there could have been pedestrians the other side of the fence or kids playing. They were nuts, they had to be.

I was now getting quite hot and feeling the pace more than a little, and I had a hill to climb yet. I had thought of going around and approaching Tom's house from the fields at the back, what stopped me were two things, they could follow me and my wheels would be unsuitable for real off-roading being race type tyres.

I twisted and turned in the side streets with the big car following, bullying and intimidating other road users, until he met one of cyclists traditional enemies, white van man.

I squeezed past his Transit van in the narrow street, made worse by cars parked on either side. The big Toyota honked and beeped at him, and I laughed at a meeting of my 'enemies' until I saw the man dragged from his van and the van being reversed. Bloody hell, they are ruthless.

I came to a crossroads and turned back towards the university. Ten minutes later I was back there. In tears.

"I'm going to call the police, this is ridiculous," Pippa raged.

"No, I'd love for them to arrested but I'm not sure that would happen. I called Stella.

On the third attempt her mobile was answered, she obviously excused herself from a patient and and tore into me.

"I'm with a patient, what is so bloody important it couldn't wait?"

"There are two guys who have just chased me all over Portsmouth in a big Toyota, including driving through someone's fence and dragging a van driver out of his van and moving the van themselves. I am shit scared."

"Who are they?"

"I don't know, I've come off my bike once already."

"You're on a bike, you silly girl."

"Well in traffic they'd have caught me already in a car."

"Call Daddy, he'll do something."

"What if he's in a meeting or something?"

"Erm, I'll call him and get him to call you. Where are you?"

"Back at the university."

My mobile began to ring, "Hello?" I said praying it was my future father in law.

"Hello Cathy, I hear you're in a spot of bother?"

"Yes a little local difficulty," I joked back. Then I explained what had happened. I described the car, and sent Pippa out to see if it was nearby. She couldn't see it.

I went to the back entrance and there it was, down the road. Too far away to see the number.

"Okay, this what you're going to do...." He described a very basic plan.

I was to ride in my skins, Team GB, so very noticeable red, white and blue and to go towards Cosham. He would arrange an interception they couldn't ignore.

I was to leave in ten minutes, I could hear someone talking in the back ground.

"Whatever you do Cathy, do not look back or stop, keep going in case we can't stop them for long."

That didn't give me much confidence. But I didn't have any better ideas. I waited then took to the road again.

Sure enough Big Brother was watching and set off after me. Once again I made the most of the congestion, hoping the light would last. Ten or so minutes later I was on the Cosham road, and so were my shadows, they were gaining on me at a rate of knotts, even though I was giving all I had.

Suddenly a police car came screaming out of a lay-by, lights and sirens flashing, another was hammering up from Portsmouth, and a third was blocking the road up ahead. He waved me through but stopped everything else. I carried on for another half a mile and turned back towards Portsmouth and the back road to Tom's house. I was exhausted and very tearful.

I got home in the dark some half an hour later, Tom was there already and standing by with a large brandy. I didn't argue, I took a good slug of it and started coughing.

I finished the brandy and waved Tom away, I needed a shower and to relax for five minutes before I spoke to anyone. I drank a large glass of water and went to shower.

Half an hour later, I came back down and Tom seated at the kitchen table, was preparing to pour another shot of brandy. I told him no, I needed a cuppa.

I told him the story as I knew it. He shook his head. "I could understand it if you were really important, like Princess Di, but you're not."

"Which means, there is something going on we don't know about. This wasn't just paparazzo, these guys were like the secret service in spy films." I was very tearful.

I called Stella to ask her to thank her father. "What is going on?"

"I'm not telling you this, alright, but there is a hostile takeover attempt on the bank, Daddy reckons they are trying to link it wth you to create maximum bad publicity, to weaken his hand."

"I thought he owned the major share of the bank."

"He owns forty nine per cent."

"Well that is pretty well fireproof isn't it."

"Normally yes, but the hostiles already have thirty percent and are buying shares like no ones' business."

"I thought that once someone did something like that the shares were frozen."

"So did I. Anyway, that's what some of this is about."

"What do I do?"

"Daddy said to publish and be damned. He believes that you should go back to the BBC and charm everyone like you did before."

"But isn't that giving the bad guys what they want?"

"No, because you have some control over what is said, try and do it live, it's risky, but then you have most control you are going to get."

"I don't know if they'd wear that."

"For an exclusive to talk to you, they'd sell their grannies."

"But I am not important, I'm a biologist trying to do my job and get on with my life." I began to cry, "It just doesn't make sense to me."

"You are important Cathy, now talk to Des, he knows what's going on, Simon has briefed him. He's ready to set the terms of the interview to suit you. Oh and if you go, Simon is on his way to take you, oh, and wear the dormouse suit."

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 178

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Sequel or Series Episode

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

Other Keywords: 

  • BBC news
  • police cars
  • Newsnight
  • cheese sandwiches.

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

We were met by two men inside the building and after shaking hands, they took our cases and asked us to follow them. We emerged at the other end of the building and there waiting for us was a small helicopter.

"You don't expect me to get in that do you?" I said feeling very apprehensive.

"It's perfectly safe Miss Watts."

"I expected something with wings on it, not a flying teaspoon."

Easy As Falling Off A Bike
by Angharad
part: 14 dozen + 10.

I called Des, there was no reply. Just what I needed. Tom was on about food, I wasn't hungry.

"But you have to eat to keep your strength up," he remonstrated with me.

"Tom, I know what you say makes sense, but if I ate anything now, I should be sick."

"It might be wind, you have, that can make you feel sick. Have some milky coffee."

I was astonished, he could operate the microwave all by himself. Not only that but he made me a hot, milky coffee and I drank it and then ate a banana. I did have wind or methane.

I tried Des again, "Why do people always ring when you're on the frigging toilet?"

"I checked with your neighbours first and as soon as the bathroom light went on, I phoned."

"Why doesn't that surprise me?" he asked rhetorically.

"So what do you advise?" I asked hoping for miracles.

"What do you want to do?" he threw back at me.

"Wake up and find this has all been a bad dream."

"Oh dear, I was hoping you'd talk about fighting back."

"I don't want to fight with anyone, it's so passe."

"Oh, fine, then let them set the agenda and you end up dancing to their tune."

"Have you seen me dance, not a pretty sight."

"Personally, I'd take the risk and whisk you off your feet anyway."

"If ever I want to be whisked, I know where to come."

"Oh yes, I'm a dab hand with a whisk. Now to business, you appear to be dealing with ruthless characters, with all the hallmarks of organised crime."

"You're joking, the mob?" I gasped and felt sick again, I did not want to tangle with them. "Can't I simply disappear?"

"What under a motorway?"

"No, I mean flee the country for a few weeks?"

"Sure, while Simon's dad loses his bank and you lose all credibility."

"You mean I had some to lose?"

"Oh Cathy, don't give me the false modesty trip, you know what you're good at as well as I do. Why do you think I wanted you do make a film with me?"

"So what do I do?"

"Get your beautiful arse up here and talk to the Beeb, they'll be the most sympathetic audience you'll get."

"What do I say?"

"They'll discuss that with you, but it'll be about having a sex change and marrying Simon. These days it should be no big deal, but the fact that you are so damned sexy, and marrying a total moron is news. There's still time to elope you know?"

"Des, will you think with your brain instead of your dick?"

"Damn, that gives me most of my best ideas."

"So what do I do Des?" I decided to bring him back on track.

"Be ready with an overnight case and change of clothing. Wear the suit you wore for the press conference and the boots, I love women in boots. Simon is going to be with you anytime now, get him to wear something tidy too. You will be picked up at exactly seven, be ready. You will be taken to Southampton and flown from there to Bristol, from there to the studios where Helen will talk with you, she's flying down to Bristol on the off chance I can persuade you to come and talk with her. After the studios you'll be taken to a hotel and put up overnight and they will have you driven back tomorrow."

"What do I have to say?" I felt very nervous about the whole thing.

"You're asking me? You are one of the best communicators I have ever seen, say what comes in your head to the questions they ask. Look beautiful and sexy, but innocent, you know chaste and virginal."

"That won't be hard, I am."

"You are what?"

"Chaste and a virgin."

"Somehow, that doesn't surprise me. It should in this day and age, but with you it doesn't. Look it's coming up to Christmas, your middle name isn't Mary is it?"

"Ha bloody ha, if the hotel is full and I have to stay in the stable, watch out!"

"These days it would be the underground car park."

"Yeah instead of the ox and the ass, it would be amongst a row of BMWs and the odd Mercedes. With the three wise men from Ace carparks Ltd."

"Cathy, instead of redoing a surreal nativity, go and get changed and tell that moronic fiance of yours to get himself tidied up too."

Simon arrived moments after I put the phone down, he had rushed from London and looked hot and bothered. I told him what Des had said and he agreed, rushing up to the shower.

I went up and changed into the blouse and suit I had worn for the meeting with the EU team and the press conference. I packed a nightdress and my toiletries. Simon had met Stella on route and she'd given him a case of clothes. We were ready by six forty five. As we weren't driving, Simon and Tom had a stiff brandy. I spent most of the time trying not to chew my nails.

The door bell rang and Tom went to answer it. He admitted a tall policeman. "I have to collect Lord Cameron and Miss Cathy Watts."

I wasn't expecting this and felt completely disoriented by it. "Can I see your warrant card please? I'm sorry to be so rude, but I've had people trying to kill me all afternoon."

"Sure," he said, he pulled out the required object and I thanked him.

I pulled on my coat and gloves and picked up my handbag, Simon collected the cases and we went out to the waiting police car, a huge BMW.

"Why are we being taken by the police?" I whispered to Simon.

"Because there is a risk involved, if the guys who were chasing you earlier knew you were going to the BBC, they'd try and stop you."

"Oh!" I gasped and fell silent. I didn't need to know the facts, my imagination was bad enough.

The car absolutely flew along, blue lights flashing much of the way. The roads seemed to clear for it and we were in Southampton airport about half an hour later, which is very good going. We were taken to a small hangar/warehouse on the edge of the air field and the police waited until we went in, then went haring off again. This was bizarre, like something from a spy film, all it needed now was James Bond to appear.

We were met by two men inside the building and after shaking hands, they took our cases and asked us to follow them. We emerged at the other end of the building and there waiting for us was a small helicopter.

"You don't expect me to get in that do you?" I said feeling very apprehensive.

"It's perfectly safe Miss Watts."

"I expected something with wings on it, not a flying teaspoon."

"Oh yes very droll."

"Look sweetheart, just get in the fucking thing alright?" said Simon and practically lifted me inside it. Well the noise was horrendous once the engine started up and the whirly bit on the roof began to go around.

Then we were airborne and in a few minutes the lights of the airport were quickly disappearing beneath us. We had ear defender things which also had a microphone and speakers attached, it was the only way you could hear anyone speak. I sat hugging Simon's arm, which he wrapped around me, I was genuinely uncertain about the wisdom of these things, especially one which looked to have a smaller motor than a sit and ride lawn mower.

Amazingly, we were at Bristol airport in under an hour, where a large Mercedes scooped us up and took us to the BBC.

We spoke to the producer and editor of the Ten O'Clock News. They wanted to do a recorded piece they could edit, I refused.

"How badly do you want to interview me?" I asked.

"After what it's cost to get you here, I'd should very much like you to appear on the news and then on Newsnight afterwards."

"No one mentioned that to me," I said indignantly.

"Oh, well as you're already here and Jeremy is on his way down now, we hoped you would speak with him."

"He'll eat me alive," I gasped, Jeremy Paxman is a ferocious interviewer who doesn't give a toss who he upsets with his badgering questions. He was also no fool and likely to ask me things I didn't understand let alone know the answer to.

"I don't think so luv, he wants to get the best out of you and you have no reason to lie to him unlike politicians. We'll give him instructions to be gentle with you. So will you do it?"

"If he roughs me up then I will...."

"Don't worry luv, he's a sweetie really he is."

"That's what they used to say about Joe Stalin." I huffed and walked back to Simon who put his arm around me protectively.

They ordered some coffee and sandwiches and we were taken to a small room and asked about what would be too sensitive to talk about. To me everything was too sensitive. I let them think I was post op and Simon picked up on it quickly.

"When are you getting married?"

"When I've got my PhD."

"Why not before?"

"Do you know how much work is involved in one?"

"Oh is it? Still couldn't you do that as a married woman as easily as a single one?"

"I don't know, am I not allowed to decide for myself?" I countered.

"Of course you are. Look have something to eat and drink and we'll talk when Helen gets here."

"She had a point," said Simon.

"So do I, so eat your sandwich!" I snapped at him, "It's not you they want to interview and dismember on television."

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 179

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Sequel or Series Episode

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Other Keywords: 

  • usual crap - indistict dialogue - poor grammar- verbiage - but who gives a toss?

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

"I don't know who is worse, your dad or Dirty Des here?" I said smirking. Des protested his innocence vociferously and Simon sat laughing.

Easy As.......
by: A........
part: 15doz -1

I sat eating sandwiches and glowering at Simon. For two pins I'd go home and sod the lot of them. Sensing movement and expecting Helen Brody the news reader, I was surprised to see Des walk in the door.

"Hi Simon," he said walking over to me, he added, "Hi gorgeous," It was a wind up for Simon, but as usual he wasn't playing.

"So what's going down?" he asked of me.

"I find it a very curious coincident that they have just rubbed me up the wrong way and you appear. What are the odds of that happening?"

He looked momentarily guilty, but he soon recovered, let's face it he had more neck than the average giraffe. "I warned 'em that you were temperamental," he winked at Simon but I saw it.

"She's got a temper and I'm mental," said Simon.

"Don't I know it," said Des, "on both counts."

I glared at him, "If you're here to get me talk to Jermey Paxman, you're wasting your time."

"Nah, he'll talk you into that himself, he is extremely charming in person, you'll love him. I'm here to talk Simon into going on as well."

Simon did a double take, then visibly paled. "Why?" then added, "The bank?"

Des nodded.

"I can't, I don't have the authority to do that, they have proper spokespeople."

" I have an email from your dad," he showed it to Simon.

"How do I know it's genuine?" he asked.

"Call him up, if you don't trust me, while I have a quick snog with your girlfriend."

Simon pulled out his mobile and hit a rapid dial, "Hi Dad, did you send an email to Des? I can on the points mentioned, just push the attempt to malign and disrupt the proper takeover and mergers protocols. Okay, yes I'll tell her." He looked over to me, "Henry says break a leg or something."

"I'm not going on the stage tell him."

"You tell him," he handed me the phone.

"Hello Henry, it's Cathy."

"You sound as sweet as ever young lady."

"As do you kind sir," I could flannel too.

"You flatter me."

"Why do you want Simon to do Newsnight, or me for that matter?"

"Because I think it's the best way to break down the prejudice and it also gives us a chance to fight back against these thugs who are damaging my bank."

"Do you really think it will do either?"

"It's got to help your case for a beautiful, intelligent and articulate woman to charm the viewers out of their seats. And Simon can get the jump on the bandits after the bank. Will you do it?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"If we get through this crisis, there's a job for you as environmental advisor."

"I don't have time Henry, I want to finish my degree."

"It won't require you do very much at all, but it will make us look good and put 50K a year into your pocket before tax of course."

"That is tantamount to bribery Henry, aren't you as bad as the guys you're trying to fight?"

"No, it's something the board has been looking to appoint for some time. I mean you can do it for free if you want and donate the money to charity, but I'd have thought, what with a car to run and a wardrobe to maintain, it might be useful and it also gives you independence from Simon."

"It could compromise other things later on," I suggested.

"Don't do it then, but at least speak to Profesor Agnew before you decline officially. I'd like you to do it because you have more charm than Bill Oddie or David Bellamy, they don't turn me on like you do."

"What is it with you lot?"

"Oh I come from a long line of hot blooded ancestors."

"You are a rogue Henry Cameron."

"Yes but a classy one, don't you think?"

"Undoubtedly. I have to go."

I handed the phone back to Simon, who looked surprised at my conversation.

"I don't know who is worse, your dad or Dirty Des here?" I said smirking. Des protested his innocence vociferously and Simon sat laughing.

"So you gonna do Paxman?" asked Des.

"When it comes by Lordly decree, do I have a choice, besides he said he'd sack Simon if I didn't."

"He wouldn't dare," riposted Simon, "I know too much." He smiled smugly.

"I can believe that," quipped Des at which Simon gave him a Paddington hard stare.

Helen Brody arrived and we shook hands, I introduced her to Simon and Des.

"Are you sitting in on Cathy's interview as well, to reinforce your acceptance of her as a female."

"I find that patronising," he said, "anyone can see she's female, if they can't they need glasses."

"I agree entirely Lord Cameron, but it's not me you need to convince. When I met her before I had no idea of her past, and I still have difficulty believing it. I also don't consider it newsworthy any more, except for the marrying into a noble family."

"Her family is possibly more noble than mine, mine are a long line of twisters and crooks who made friends in high places."

"Wow a deconstructionist peer, have you been talking to Tony Benn?"

"Not recently, besides he chose to give up his peerage to sit in the commons, I'd prefer the benches in the Lords, were I to take an interest in politics."

I thought Simon handled himself very well, but it would be nice to have him there. If I asked him he'd do it, but I don't want that responsibility. He has to make up his own mind.

"Cathy you're still happy to talk to me on the programme?" asked Helen.

"Yes but live, I won't do a recording."

"Okay, as long as you stick to the agenda we set?" she said looking me in the eye.

"My thoughts entirely," I stared back.

At this she nodded and laughed. "Deal?" she proferred her hand.

"Deal," I agreed shaking it.

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 180

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Sequel or Series Episode

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Other Keywords: 

  • Attempted Murder
  • interviews
  • TV news bulletins
  • usual mayhem.

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

"And it has made no difference to your department?"

"Why should it, we employ expertise, she is one of the brightest stars in biological fieldwork I have seen for many a year. Her reputation is growing exponentially. She is also one of the prettiest girls in Portsmouth."

Easy As Falling On A Bike.
by: Angharad
part 15 doz.

"You realise you are going to be going from one studio straight to another do you?" said Des.

"What do you mean?" asked Simon.

"These programmes clash for air time, Newsnight goes out on BBC before the news bulletin finishes. Did you remember that?"

Frankly I hadn't, but the alternative had been to record the interview, which means they can then edit it. Although I have great respect for these people, I don't know how much I can trust them. My story is so old hat these days, there are so many transsexuals in the world, it isn't really news any more, so it's the Simon connection which is the draw, and through him the bank story.

It's a journalist's dream really, Russian doll stories, starting with the smallest first and the biggest for the finale. The time rolled on, Paxman was cutting it fine. Then at just before ten pm, I was led to the studio, Simon came along with me. We had both been in makeup and were ready for the Newsnight interview afterwards.

We were led into the studio and settled down. It suddenly struck me that Simon was still with me and was being fitted for a mic. He was staying, he looked like a frightened rabbit. I squeezed his hand, he looked at me and smiled. They did a very quick sound check and the news bulletin started. They did four stories, then suddenly we were led to two chairs on the side of Helen's console.

"Last week we saw dramatic pictures of a rescue of a baby from a burning car on the M5 motorway, and we spoke to our unlikely heroine, only to discover she had caught a sneak thief the week before, which was captured on camera and we have that clip now."

I looked at the monitor and saw a very poor quality picture of me, jump on the thief's back and bring him down to the floor, and the policeman intervene. It was the first time I had seen it, I wish they had prepared me for it. Simon's eyes were out on stalks. He squeezed my hand.

"We reported then," continued Helen, "that this special woman was engaged to be married to Lord Cameron. We have since learned that special, isn't quite a special enough word to describe her. For this thief catching, baby rescuing, dormouse juggling, planet saver has another special quality. She was born a boy."

My stomach tightened and I'd felt tense since they'd shown the same film of the car fire and the dormouse dive, that they had before.

Helen swung around to face me, "Cathy, when did you realise you should have been a girl?"

"As soon as I realised there was a difference between boys and girls and I was in the wrong group." I felt myself blush.

"So from a very early age?"

"Yes, in nursery."

"And how was life growing up as a boy?"

"Difficult, it's very hard when you know that everyone has expectations of you but you don't share them. It is very difficult with parents and family."

"I'm sure, what about school and university?"

"I'm pretty sure there were lots of people who thought I was gay, I was called it often enough, but I wasn't, I was transgendered or transsexual."

"Then you changed sex?"

"Yes. The university has been a tremendous help and support, I can't thank them enough for that."

"I don't know you looked after their Mammal Survey Project when Professor Agnew was ill."

"It's part of my job. The prof looks after me, I help him as I can."

"We spoke to Professor Agnew a short while ago," the image on the monitor changed to show Tom.

"When did you know Charlie wanted to be Cathy?"

"Cathy confided in me a long time ago."

"And it has made no difference to your department?"

"Why should it, we employ expertise, she is one of the brightest stars in biological fieldwork I have seen for many a year. Her reputation is growing exponentially. She is also one of the prettiest girls in Portsmouth."

"How do the students feel about her? We asked a couple."

Bugger me, I thought, they had found some of my tutorial group. "What do you feel about learning your biology tutor used to be a man?"

"That is total bollocks, no one that pretty has ever been a man, use your eyes!" The next time I saw Ivan, I was going to hug him to death.

"Yes, agreed Louise and Lesley, I don't care what she had on 'er birf sistificate, she's a woman, always 'as bin. She's a good tuta too, betta van the uvver one."

I was cringing.

"With us in the studio is Lord Simon Cameron, Cathy's fiance. How did you feel when you learned of Cathy's secret?"

"Probably about as surprised as she was when she found out my dad was a viscount."

"So you both had secrets?"

"Yeah, and I think we were both surprised, but by that time we were in love with each other. I couldn't believe that anyone who was naturally as beautiful as she is, has ever been a man. I agree with the students, I think she has always been female but just had the wrong tackle."

"What did you think, when you found out Simon was a peer?"

"I wanted to end the relationship because I thought it would create lots of negative publicity for him and his family."

"But I wouldn't hear of it, and my family once they met her fell in love with her too. My ancestors had some pretty awful characters amongst them, murderers, thieves, traitors you name it they probably did it. Nowadays, that's only of interest to historians. Cathy's past is only of academic interest, what we all love, me, my family, her family and her colleagues and students alike, is now and the future. She is a beautiful and beautifully natured woman, and we all love her to bits, her history is just that history."

"There is talk that your father's bank is the subject to a hostile takeover bid, and that the group after it have been rumoured to have some unsavory connections."

"It's because of them, this story has become such news. They have been trying to use Cathy's relationship with me to besmirch the reputation of my family and their position as trustees of the bank. In my opinion that is like trying to use the Virgin Mary to destroy the reputation of single mothers."

"So this story has broken to try and denigrate your family and influence a shareholders meeting?"

"Absolutely."

Cut to Jim Doble, finance correspondent. "Cameron's bank is merchant bank which recently took over the High Street Bank, at a suspected cost of 20 billion pounds, the combined bank now holds assets of somewhere in the region of 600 billion. It is this which the hostile bidder is after, primarily to launder money.

According to rumours from a reliable source, the bank in question is an Asian one with interests in both China and Russia, both areas where the shadow of organised crime has led to huge profits from ruthless marketing of drugs, sex and illicit arms supplies. These people don't let anything much get in their way, and both Lord and the future Lady Cameron are under police protection, an attempt being made on her life earlier today."

Back to Helen, "What happened with the attempt on your life earlier Cathy?"

"I cycled to work today, and on the way home was pursued by a large four wheel drive car, they had several goes at running me off the road and one or two other road users. I only escaped when the police intervened and stopped them."

"So they chased you and tried to knock you off your bike?"

"Yes, they chased me all over Portsmouth. They also made threatening phone calls during the day."

"Do they realise they're up against wonder woman?"

"No but they will when she beats them," joked Simon and I blushed, poking him in the ribs."

A studio manager led us away as the next item was shown, and we met with the producer again and Des. "Got you a DVD of the interview. Newsnight will have to be postponed, Jeremy's train broke down somewhere in Wiltshire in the middle of nowhere."

" 'ere get this," commented the producer, and pointed at a monitor.

"News is just coming in of an attack on Viscount Stanebury, which the police are treating as an attempted murder. His car was riddled with bullets as he drove from the bank's head office in the City to his home in Hampstead. Reports are that he was unharmed but shocked by this attack." They showed the Audi and a policeman pointing to bulletholes.

Simon went white and I felt my own stomach flip over. This was far too serious for me. But I couldn't just disappear, I had to take Stevie for his results next week. Oh boy, what a day!

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 181

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Sequel or Series Episode

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Other Keywords: 

  • same shit different day!

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

"Thought you might." I smiled enigmatically again. It was a look I was trying to perfect, the problem is without a mirror, you can't tell how it looks.

"You keep giving me funny smiles," said Simon.

"Do they puzzle you?" I asked.

"Only why you keep doing it."

Easy As Falling Off A Bike
by Angharad
part:181

"Oh shit!" said Simon and bit his lip.

"Call him Simon, I'll call Stella."

I punched in her code and got her voicemail. I tried the cottage, there was no answer. I felt my blood pressure rising. She was probably out with John, at least I hoped so.

Simon was still talking to his father. I sent Stella a text message to call me as soon as she could.

"He's okay, thank goodness, said I did okay on the interview." He almost puffed out his chest with pride.

"Okay, you were wonderful." I hugged and kissed him. "I can't get hold of Stella, was she going out?"

"I don't know, she could have been." He shrugged his shoulders in a gesture of hopelessness. "She tells me very little."

And you don't listen when she does, went through my mind. "What do we do next?"

"There's a limmo coming to take you to your hotel," offered Des, "least that's the plan."

"So do we wait out front."

"No you stay here until we decide it's safe, the attack on Henry means you are possible targets." Des then went towards the main entrance.

"Won't it be dangerous for him too?"

"Dunno, he's not easily frightened, that guy did a documentary about crocodiles, he swam with them." Simon was obviously impressed with his friend.

"He probably told them if they ate him it would be on camera and everyone would know what rotten reptiles they were." I tried to lighten things up a little.

Simon laughed rather more than I thought was warranted. "You've got him summed up."

I smiled as enigmatically as I could, not sure if I had summed up Des or just made a joke.

My phone beeped for text. I pulled it out, then cursed.

"What was that?" asked Simon.

"My mobile supplier offering me cheap rate calls abroad."

"Oh, could be a good idea."

"While some sunshine would be brilliant, I have an appointment in a couple of weeks with the plumber, remember?"

"Oh yes."

"Otherwise you'll never get your connubials," I smiled again.

"Oh yes ma'am, I do want them."

"Thought you might." I smiled enigmatically again. It was a look I was trying to perfect, the problem is without a mirror, you can't tell how it looks.

"You keep giving me funny smiles," said Simon.

"Do they puzzle you?" I asked.

"Only why you keep doing it."

"Oh," I said blushing, back to the drawing board.

"Your car is here," Des said, returning, "and he's kosher."

The hotel was the same group as the one at Southsea, 'Travellux.' So did Henry own this one as well?

"We're booked in as Mr and Mrs Simon," whispered Mr Simon as we entered the place.

"You're Paul and I'm Art, don't tell me?" I answered back.

"Art isn't a girl's name is it?"

"Duh! Simon and Garfunkle."

"Who are they?" said Simon looking puzzled.

"Two huge American pop...." I looked at him and he was holding back a laugh.

"You pig!" I scolded him.

We registered and were taken up to the top floor, it was a penthouse suite. I wondered who was paying for it, then thought, blow it, I'm not so I'm gonna enjoy myself.

While Simon tried to call Stella, I went and ran a bath, used up the sachet of bath salts and sat in the wonderfully warm water, where I relaxed so much I fell asleep, until Simon hosed me down with cold water from the shower. I will kill that man one of these days!

"Your wine is getting warm," he said when I stopped coughing.

"What wine?"

"I ordered you some when you first got in the bath."

"Did you?" I didn't know what day it was leave alone anything else.

"Yes, plus a snack meal."

"Food? You're not hungry are you?" I didn't feel particularly so.

"Yes, since the cook left, my eating habits are all a bit upsy-downsy."

"Poor you," I said, wondering what he'd ordered.

I waited for him to leave before getting out of the bath, very aware of something dangling that I didn't want anyone to see. I wrapped myself in the towelling robe hanging on the back of the door.

"Can I get my nightie on?" I asked.

"Hurry then."

I threw it on quickly and pulled on the matching panties, tucking the obtrusive bits back between my legs. I was going to be so pleased for those to be sorted. Just two or three weeks to go.

"Here," said Simon, handing me a glass of champagne.

"You didn't order this, did you?"

"No, it's complimentary, they give a bottle of Bollinger to everyone."

"Oh that's alright then." I said feeling relieved.

He started to roar with laughter.

I knew I was the cause of it and blushed. "What did I say that was so funny?"

"This stuff at hotel rates is a couple of hundred quid a bottle."

"Oh," I felt really stupid. "Who is paying for it?"

"My dad, I reckon we earned it."

"Does he know?" I asked feeling less positive about it than Simon did."

"He's got other stuff to worry about. Besides we got him some good publicity tonight, so he won't mind."

It felt strange to be drinking a wine that I couldn't distinguish from a Marks and Spencer one, they did champagne too and I'll bet it was better value than this bottle. It tasted like any old champagne to me.

The snacks were a 'cold table,' a selection of cold meats, cheeses, salad and fruit, plus some bread sticks. It was delicious and I certainly ate my share.

"Let's take the rest of the wine to bed," said Simon.

"Shouldn't we be trying to find Stella?" I asked feeling guilty.

"I'll try and ring her again, but what else can I do?"

"Has she spoken to your dad?"

"He didn't say so, so she could have done, but I doubt it. I can't ring him and ask because all it will do is worry him?"

"Where else is she likely to be?" I asked.

"She's probably out getting as pissed as a fart and screwing John till he begs for mercy."

Declining to take any hints from this conversation, I tried calling her mobile again. Only voicemail, I left a message, again. Simon called the cottage, there was no answer. We had tried.

The problem was we couldn't do anything until morning, and then we still had to get to Portsmouth. By then anything could have happened. We needed someone closer. I phoned Tom.

"That was one sneaky interview you gave, and how did they find some of my tutorial students?"

"They volunteered and Pippa volunteered me."

"A likely tale," I joked.

"Simon did well."

"He was brilliant, and I thought he handled the bank stuff well, too."

"Yes, he was quite good, you looked nice, that suit really suits you."

"Thanks Tom, I need a favour." Before he could ask what, I started. "We can't seem to get hold of Stella, could you check out the cottage tomorrow morning and make sure nothing has happened there?"

"I'll go now if you want?"

"No, she might just be out with friends and either return later or whatever, she isn't answering her mobile, so she might be out clubbing or something."

"Okay, I'll pop over there first thing."

"Thanks Tom, and thanks for your kindness with the interview."

"Got to keep my cook happy."

What is this about men and cooking? Or is it men and their stomachs? "I'll cook you the best curry you've ever tasted, when I get back."

"You don't eat curry, Cathy."

"So?"

"So how can you know what is a good or a bad one?"

He was being logical, I just wanted to thank him. Damn! "Okay, if you can keep that mutt of yours under control, I'll do you another roast dinner."

"On sunday?"

"Probably, I'll have to check I don't have anything else to do."

"Okay, you have a date." He put the phone down.

I snuggled up with Simon. He gently stroke my breasts and I felt something twitching in my knickers. I'd stopped the oestrogens after seeing Mr O'Rourke, to reduce thrombosis risk. It possibly made me randier, debatable, but it certainly meant something was trying to reach an expanded state. I felt very embarrassed by it and turned my back to Simon snuggling into him, hoping he wouldn't see or feel my bulge. At the same time I reached back and felt his, and began stroking it. I felt his breathing increase and also his hands stopped stroking my chest. Moments later he groaned then rushed out to the bathroom. I just lay back and smiled.

I was snuggled into Simon when the phone rang. My mobile. I was tempted to let voice mail take it when I realised where we were and that we had been worried about Stella. That was probably her now.

I rolled over and picked up the phone, "Hello," I said sleepily.

"Cathy, it's Tom, I'm at the cottage. No sign of Stella and the door is open, I've called the police."

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 182

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Sequel or Series Episode

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Other Keywords: 

  • Same crap with new issues.

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

I drove over to the cottage, now less than worried about the press. It was a mess, it had been searched, thankfully, they weren't vandals, so whilst they ripped out the back of wardobes and things, they didn't rip up the clothing. I took several more items down to the car. I didn't think I'd be coming back for a while.

I tidied up Stella and Simon's clothes, but left everything else. The young copper on the door was bored stiff, but he had his job to do, so after making him a cuppa and some sandwiches, I left.

Easy As Falling Off A Bike
by Angharad
part:182

"Tom, do not go in until the police get there?" I said loudly down the phone.

"Wassup?" asked Simon.

I waved him to be quiet. "Tom where are you?"

"It's a bit of a mess, stuff all over the place?"

"The cottage has been broken into, no sign of Stella so far?" I said to Simon, who paled visibly.

He went on muttering something, but I was listening to Tom who was calling Stella and saying who he was. Then I could hear police sirens from the phone so presumed the cavalry had arrived.

"I have to go Cathy, the police are here, I'll call you later."

"Jeez, what more can happen?" said Simon. He looked very angry.

"Look Si, neither of us has had much sleep, go and shower while I call room service and have something sent up."

"I'm not too hungry," he said.

"Neither am I, but I have a feeling this could be a long day." I put my arm around his waist. "We can call the hospital later and see if she's turned up for work. She might have stayed with John?"

"Yeah okay, order me some coffee and a bit of toast." he said and went off to the shower.

I called room service and ordered two full English breakfasts plus tea and coffee. I also asked them to be as quick as they could.

The food arrived while I was showering, Simon tipped the waiter and was busy pouring tea and coffee when I emerged in the towelling robe.

He seemd to eat with gusto, I had to force mine down. I don't like big breakfasts but I had this feeling that food would not be a priority for the rest of the day.

"Where else could she be?" I asked Simon who was busy on his fourth piece of toast and marmalade.

"Search me?" he shrugged and reached for another slice of toast. I'd had one and left half my bacon and egg. The tea was good.

"What happens next?" I asked with regard to going home.

"A car is supposed to arrive about nine, to avoid the M5 rush hour."

"Oh, so we won't be there until lunch time," It wasn't even eight yet.

"Sod it, I'm gonna hire a chopper." He picked up his mobile.

"Can't we do fixed wing?" I asked not wanting to get in another helicoter for a while, not longer than say, a lifetime.

"No, you come down by car, I'll meet you later." He picked up the service phone, "This is Lord Cameron, get me a motorbike taxi, I need to be at the airport in half an hour."

"A what taxi?"

"It's a motorbike not a car, gets through the traffic easier."

"Oh!" I didn't even know they existed. "Please be careful," I hugged and kissed him. "I don't want to be widdowed before I'm married."

"They can't hurt me, I'm an aristocrat," he smiled.

"Erm, what do I do about the bill for this place?"

"Oh that's taken care of, just sign out, it automatically goes to the bank."

"I can't sign it, I don't work for the bank."

"Yes you do, Environmental consultant."

"But I haven't agreed to that yet!"

"No but I have, your first paycheque should be in the bank by now."

"What!" I was about to argue with him, when my mobile rang and so did the service phone.

"Yes?" I snapped into my phone.

"Hey don't take that tone of voice with me?"

"Sorry Tom, getting a bit tense."

"Okay I'll forgive you. The good news is no Stella, the bad is, they trashed the house."

"Well thank goodness for small mercies." I was relieved there was no body.

Simon mouthed, 'Tom?'.

I held the phone to my chest, "Yes no sign of Stella and the place has been trashed."

"Fuck that, I've gotta go, bring my bag with you?"

"Course I will," I kissed him goodbye and he grabbed his coat and was gone. He would be quite cold before he go to the airport.

"Okay Tom, do they know what happened?"

"No idea. Can't say she was or wasn't here."

"Damn, there's a car supposedly bringing me back later this morning."

"You have a key to get in?"

"Yes in my bag."

"Good, I'll see you later. If you dash off somewhere, tell me."

"Okay Tom, I'm not likely to do that, that's boy stuff."

"Yeah yeah, I remember Emma Peel and her bike leathers, how do I know the updated version isn't a lycra ladette?"

"Erm..." before I could reply he was gone. I went back to dress, 'John Steed' had packed his bag and left it on the bed.

I took my time and called Stella several times. She wasn't at the hospital, for some reason she didn't have a clinic booked today. It gave me a little hope that she was simply away somewhere, but why didn't she tell anyone?

The phone rang, it was my driver. A bell boy came up for the bags and took me down to the reception desk. "If you could sign here please, Lady Cameron." I was going to protest but thought, 'what the hell'. "I trust everything was to your satisfaction?"

"Yes it was fine thank you, I was quite impressed with the room service last night and again this morning."

"You're very kind, but if you could relay that to Lord Stanebury, we'd be most grateful."

"But of course. Did you want to inspect the kitchens or anywhere else?"

"No thank you, I have to dash off."

"Thank you for staying with us."

I nodded, or was going to be here all day.

I made a little small talk with the driver but he seemed more interested in the radio, so I found myself nodding off. I'd asked him to drop me off at the town centre, where I gave him a fiver and walked round the corner to a taxi rank. From there I went to Tom's house.

Once in a pair of jeans and trainers, I felt more action minded. I again tried Stella. No answer, even her voice mail was off, which puzzled me.

I drove over to the cottage, now less than worried about the press. It was a mess, it had been searched, thankfully, they weren't vandals, so whilst they ripped out the back of wardobes and things, they didn't rip up the clothing. I took several more items down to the car. I didn't think I'd be coming back for a while.

I tidied up Stella and Simon's clothes, but left everything else. The young copper on the door was bored stiff, but he had his job to do, so after making him a cuppa and some sandwiches, I left.

My phone received a text as I was driving back to Tom's. I pulled over as soon as I could. It was from Stella, or at least from her phone.

'Wot is goin on?
Stel.'

I called back her phone. This time she answered it. We talked for a few minutes, when she heard about the attack on her dad and the house break in, she was shocked and then cried. She asked me to come and get her. She was at a private clinic on the outskirts of the city. I knew where it was because I sometimes cycled out there going to the downs. I was puzzled to say the least.

I drove there as quickly as I could. She was sat inside talking on her mobile. I waited, picking up the overnight case she had with her. She looked the same, well she looked pale and drawn, so she hadn't had any plastic surgery as far as I could tell, I mean she didn't look like Jordan or Anne Robinson, the former with basket balls for boobs and the latter with a face like botoxed ferret.

"I think you'd better come back to Tom's. They're waiting for a locksmith to secure the house, new front door etc."

"Oh, did Simon authorise that?"

"No I did on your behalf, I hope that's okay."

"Sure, I'll need more clothes."

"I'll drop you off at Tom's and go get some for you."

"No let's go to the cottage now, sort it in one go." She paused as if getting her breath. "You won't tell Simon where you found me will you?"

"Where did I pick you up then?"

"John's house."

"Okay, but I don't understand the need for secrecy between us. I mean it's not as if you just had an abor...., oh shit! You didn't did you?"

I glanced at her, she was nodding and the tears were streaming down her face.

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 183

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Sequel or Series Episode

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Other Keywords: 

  • organised crap - I mean crime.

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

She didn't answer, so I pitched it anyway. "You are an amazing woman who has looked after me like a big sister and Simon, like a second mother. You have a very busy and important job, to which you are dedicated. In doing it you are helping hundreds of people every year. You are one of the kindest people I know. At this moment your world is under threat of change, especially if I marry Simon. There is also all sorts of things going on affecting your father and his commercial empire. You are under a lot of stress and I think you have to accept that things you do might be seen out of perspective. You did what you thought was for the best. I think it would be a good idea to let it rest there until you have had some time to recover and a chance to talk it over with someone better qualified than I am. So stop crying and give me a hug."

Easy As Falling Off A Bike.
by Angharad
part 183.

I pulled over into a layby and switched off the engine. "Want to talk about it?"

She looked straight ahead through the windscreen at the back of a petrol tanker parked in front of us. The tears continued to flow.

"Please don't tell Simon and please never tell my father, he'll be heart broken."

"It's not my job to tell anyone, but if you had trusted me, I would have tried to help. You helped me Sis." I wanted us to stay friends, I really liked her and cared for her.

"I did think about it, then all this business about your exposure happened and I didn't have time. I wanted to get the termination over as quickly as possible, I'm trying to see this as only a collection of cells rather than a little person. But I've still killed my own baby."

"It isn't a baby until it's born."

"I know that officially, and I know loads of things could have happened between now and delivery."

"So maybe what you did has saved it some suffering." I was trying to be upbeat about it."

"Come on Cathy, I killed it for my convenience."

"If that's what you think?"

"Yeah, it's not what I think, it's what I know."

"You are upset, and tired, let's go and collect some clothes and get you back to Tom's." I was quickly becoming convinced that this was beyond my capabilities to deal with on my own.

"You wouldn't have done it would you?"

"It would be rather difficult." I said blushingly aware of my shortcomings in the breeding department.

"Wouldn't you like to bear a child?"

"Of course I would, but it isn't going to happen. I try to live within what is possible rather than dream the impossible."

"It may be possible one day," she said almost abstractedly, as if she was looking into a crystal ball.

"It won't be in time for me, besides there will be loads of woman who are better qualified anatomically than I am, to carry a baby. I'm a bit small in the hip department."

Stella nodded almost as if she was in a trance. The tears were still dropping into her lap.

"When did you decide to do it?" I asked her.

"Last week. John will move on, he'll get his registrarship somewhere else and that'll be that. I don't have time or inclination towards motherhood. I made a mistake, forgot the pill one night."

"Isn't there a morning after pill?"

"Yeah, but of course, chances of catching very small, decided to risk it and now I'm a baby killer."

"I don't think so. Can I be a witness for the defence?"

She didn't answer, so I pitched it anyway. "You are an amazing woman who has looked after me like a big sister and Simon, like a second mother. You have a very busy and important job, to which you are dedicated. In doing it you are helping hundreds of people every year. You are one of the kindest people I know. At this moment your world is under threat of change, especially if I marry Simon. There is also all sorts of things going on affecting your father and his commercial empire. You are under a lot of stress and I think you have to accept that things you do might be seen out of perspective. You did what you thought was for the best. I think it would be a good idea to let it rest there until you have had some time to recover and a chance to talk it over with someone better qualified than I am. So stop crying and give me a hug."

She looked at me shook her head and I pulled her towards me. "I don't deserve you Cathy."

"Rubbish, you've done enough bad things to deserve at least several years of me." It wasn't the brightest thing to say but I felt like saying something nonsensical.

It took her a moment to process what I had said, then she smiled. "You are silly, but I do love you, Little Sister."

"I love you too, Big Sister." We hugged again. "Come on, let's go get you some more clothes."

We did just that. I was surprised the front wheels were still touching the ground, there was so much in the back of my little car. I took it carefully back to Tom's house all the time checking we weren't being followed. While we were loading the car the workman with the new door arrived and started to fit it. Stella signed his worksheet and told him where to send the bill. He gave us several keys.

Tom's eyebrows nearly went off the top of his head when he saw how many clothes we were bringing in. However, he had seen the mess and knew how long it was going to take to repair everything.

Stella seemed a bit withdrawn and I suggested she go to bed for a bit, I told Tom she felt violated by the break-in, which he seemed to accept. I made her up a tray with a light meal on it, while our jacket potatoes were cremating themselves in the microwave.

She was dozing but woke when I entered the room. I explained what I said to Tom which she agreed was okay. She burst into tears again saying she was unworthy of my love, and I reassured her that I had felt like that towards her not so long ago. She smiled and nodded.

"If you want to talk, or just be with someone let me know. Anytime if I'm here." I made her agree to it and went to feed Tom.

I made a fuss of him, saying he was wonderful to open his house to all us waifs and strays.

He beamed back, "It's wonderful to see the place alive again. It almost makes me pleased to live here."

"You are so kind Tom, to take us all in."

"Isn't that what friends are for? Besides I get to keep the cook for a bit longer."

What can you say to anyone who hits you with an answer like that?

We sat down to eat and he asked me to stay home tomorrow because the builders were coming to fix the fencing. That suited me fine, all I had to do was persuade Stella to have a day off as well and I could look after her while I was at it.

I went up to get her tray, she hadn't eaten much. I wasn't too surprised. She was awake and I told her that she was staying home tomorrow.

"Okay Cathy, I had taken a few days off anyway, but you can mother me if you like."

"I like," I said and hugged her again.

I sat with her for a little while and she went off to sleep. She was precious to me and I wanted to do my utmost to make sure she got over this incident.

I checked on her when went to bed, she was sleeping properly then and I tucked her in and whispered goodnight. Then went to my own bed.

Simon was staying at his parent's house. His father was okay but still quite shaken. We had spoken briefly on the phone, it wasn't a secure line. I told him Stella was okay, but badly upset about the house. He was genuinely pleased she was safe.

I didn't know what to believe about the story he had told on TV. I had always thought that money laundering was one of those insidious things that organised crime did, drawing as little attention to its activities as possible.

I wondered if he'd ever tell me what was really going on.

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 184

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Sequel or Series Episode

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Other Keywords: 

  • More shit different crisis!

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

'How can these effeminate men call themselves women, let alone Lady Muck? (It's a male dominated system anyway which grants titles for marrying men!). No matter what pills, potions or surgery they have, they'll just be eunuchs with tits! Sista Eileen, Real Active Wimyn.'

Easy As falling Off A Bike
by Angharad
part 184.

I went to bed with the events of the day buzzing around inside my head, it didn't make for easy sleeping despite the poor night before. Exhaustion eventually took over and I did sleep, but I was concerned about what was going on.

Tom had kept copies of papers which had mentioned the stories of my personal circumstances. I had looked on the internet and there were arguments about, 'How can someone who was born a male become a lady?' With a response that, 'Under non-discrimination laws, it was perfectly possible.'

Some of the comments were reasonable and well thought out, others were dreadful and full of prejudice. Rants rather than arguments. Some were from 'wimyn' who sounded like feminist activists, and they sparked answers from other women, one presumes, who argued it was wrong to judge others.

'How can these effeminate men call themselves women, let alone Lady Muck? (It's a male dominated system anyway which grants titles for marrying men!). No matter what pills, potions or surgery they have, they'll just be eunuchs with tits! Sista Eileen, Real Active Wimyn.'

'How can you be so sure who is what, such certainty is surely borne of a juvenile regard for black and white views on a grey subject. I don't have a problem seeing these people as female any more than I do you. Fundamentalism is standing so close to the bark, that you can't see the trees for the tree. Karen X, just an ordinary woman.'

'So if I don't want to work no more, all I need to do is get my d*ck cut off and marry a arsticrot? Sounds good 2 me. Gotta pay better than benifits. Darren 'won't work.'

'I think it takes more than that that Darren, besides if you did that your one hand would get no exercise at all! ;) Odd sod.'

'If you go through with this sex change Bill, you'll be no son of mine! Heehaw.'

'A friend of mine went through all the assessment and surgery to change her sex. She was attacked and raped by a gang of teenage thugs. She killed herself three months later. It's not transexuals who need condemning, it's those little bastards who roam around in gangs wearing hooded jackets. Too ashamed to show their ugly faces to the world. Scum bags! A Bereft Friend.'

'Shoot the bloody lot of them, bloody perverts! Sergeant Major.'

'I find your proclivity to violence more frightening than going on a date with someone who's a had a sex change! Chancer.'

And so on and so on. I saw there were ninety four responses. Do normal people visit the internet? Possibly not. I also assumed anyone who called themselves 'Sergeant Major' had probably never been closer to the army than watching Trooping of the Colour on TV.

Maybe the one which upset the most was that of the radical feminist. I'm a feminist in wanting better pay and conditions for women, and for supporting things like creches and child facilities. However, I'm also in favour of enabling men to become more family oriented too.

Most GID sufferers are accused of having very stereotypical gender roles. In some ways I do, in others I don't. Fiddling with bikes is hardly a femmy thing to do, but spoiling someone by nurturing them isn't very butch either. I'm just me, confused of Portsmouth.

I pulled myself out of bed when I heard Tom moving around, my eyeballs felt like they'd fallen in the sugar bowl or sand pit. I had got some sleep, but not as much as I'd liked to have had.

I showered, not because I was dirty but because I was trying to wake myself up. I dressed in jeans and a tee shirt and went down to see if Stella was up. She wasn't. I made her some coffee and went up to her bedroom.

I knocked and walked in, she was still asleep although something didn't feel right, and she looked very pale. I drew the curtains, she didn't move, and she did look pale. I felt her, she was cold and clammy and her pulse was racing - oh shit she was in shock.

"Stella," I called trying to wake her. She was unresponsive.

I pulled back the bedclothes and there was a pool of blood soaking into her nightdress and the sheets.

I ran screaming for Tom, "Call an ambulance now, she's haemorrhaging badly."

"What?" shouted Tom.

"Call an ambulance she is dying from blood loss, hurry."

He was running up the stairs and dialling 999 as he ran, he handed me the phone.

"Hello emergency, which service do you require?"

"Ambulance, quickly please my friend is bleeding to death."

"What's happening?"

"She had a termination yesterday and is haemorrhaging badly, she's unconscious in shock."

"An ambulance is on it's way, where are you?"

I gave them the address and directions, my name and anything else they wanted, I just wanted them here as quickly as possible.

"Stella, hang in there kiddo, you're gonna make it, the cavalry are on the way, just hang in there!" I was crying as I spoke to her, squeezing her hand and rubbing her forehead.

"Don't give in Stella, come on you're matron of honour at my wedding, how am I going to plan it without your help. How is Simon going tie his shoes, come one girl, hang on in there."

A siren sounded in the distance, Tom ran downstairs to let them in.

Moments later two breathless paramedics and a stretcher were entering the room, I drew back the bedclothes and showed the blood loss. The senior paramedic shook his head, but set up a drip on each arm. Then the four of us manhandled her onto the stretcher and somehow got her downstairs. I jumped in the back of the ambulance, grabbing my coat and bag en route.

They fixed her up to various monitors which showed she was in real trouble. Then telling me to hang on tight, his mate put his foot down and with sirens wailing we hammered through the streets of Portsmouth at goodness knows what speed.

Her blood pressure was so low, but it was stabilising with the drips, I kept talking to her, telling her keep going, that she was going to be alright, just to hang on. The paramedic in the back with me kept monitoring and shaking his head.

I refused to believe this could happen, I was crying and trying to be helpful. Stella didn't need negative messages, she needed hope. She was still alive, but only just.

The ambulance screamed to a stop and the two paramedics ripped open the doors and pulling the stretcher out on its wheels ran with it through the flap doors to Accident and Emergency. She was taken straight into a cubicle and with one look at her the duty doctor ordered four units of O neg blood. Even I knew it was universal donor, they would cross match and then fill her up with her regular group later.

I was led out to the office to give her details to the nurse. I couldn't help Stella now, the experts would do that, so I tried to help the experts.

"So what happened?"

"She had a termination yesterday or the day before. I picked her up from the clinic. She went to bed after a light meal last night and she was okay, I think she was when I checked on her when I went to bed, about eleven or so. I went to take her a cuppa about half seven and found her unconscious, cold and sweating. I pulled back the sheets and saw the blood, she has lost a great deal. Then I called the ambulance."

She took Stella's name and address. "This sounds familiar, she's not a nurse is she?"

"Yeah a nurse specialist in urology."

"Are you the woman who was on the TV the other night with her brother?"

"Yeah, that was me."

"Good luck, I think you're very brave."

"Erm, thanks, but right now, I'm more worried about saving my sister in law to be."

"Yeah of course, we'll do all we can. Go and have a seat in the waiting room."

"I need to call her family, can I use my mobile?"

"Can you do it outside?"

"Yeah sure."

I called Simon's mobile, his voice mail cut in. He could be anywhere. "Hi Simon, it's Cathy, Stella is critically ill in hospital, call me urgently."

Then I called her father. "Hi Henry, it's Cathy."

"Hello Cathy, to what do I attribute this pleasure."

"Stella is very ill in hospital, I just arrived with her in the ambulance."

"What happened?"

"She has haemorrhaged down below, I found her unconscious when I went to call her."

"Where is she?"

"Queen Mary."

"I'll be there as soon as I can. Have you told Simon?"

"I left him a voice mail, he's not answering his mobile."

"Okay, I'll page him. Can you stay there?"

"I'm not going anywhere until she's okay."

"Good for you girl, I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Thanks Henry."

"No Catherine, it is I who should be thanking you."

"See ya soon." I blushed and rang off.

I watched doctors and nurses rushing back and fore like scalded cats. At one point three of them arrived at once, I learned later it was the 'Crash Team', she had arrested and they managed to start her again.

I was in a sort of dream, or it felt like it. I was sure I'd wake up in a moment, except I knew this was real. I was too worried and scared to do anything other than worry and pray. I thought of Marguerite and wished she were there to hold my hand and talk me through this, praying to a God I wasn't sure existed.

On a whim I phoned her. "Hello vicarage," said a female voice.

"Is that Marguerite?"

"It is, who is that?"

"It's Cathy Watts, you may remember we talked a while back."

"I saw you on TV the other night."

"I need your help."

"Why, what has happened?"

I explained through tears what had transpired that morning and my need to believe in something, if only the cleverness of the emergency team. She comforted and consoled me and together we said the Lord's prayer, which was ingrained in me.

"I have to go Cathy, but I'll go straight down to the church and light a candle for her."

"Will it help?" I asked.

"It will help me," she said, "God doesn't need gestures, just love."

"Okay," I agreed, "light one for me too."

"I will do. Come and see me sometime whatever happens today."

"Okay, I will."

As soon as I ended the call my phone peeped and a text message appeared. 'On my way, Si.'

Now I had to work out what I was going to say to him and to her father. Both of whom will be upset if they find out about the termination. Do I need to tell them? Oh shit, why is it always me?

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 185

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Sequel or Series Episode

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

"Who was that?" asked a male voice behind the glass panel.

"A nice lady, I mean a proper Lady, who offered to get me a choccie croissant."

"Slut, I wouldn't touch my foreskin for anyone."

"You idiot, it's forelock, you'd touch your foreskin at any opportunity."

Easy As Falling Over A Bonz.
by Angharad.
part 200-15.

I stood outside the hospital knowing that support was on its way, and that in a sense, that support was as much for me as Stella, at least until we knew she was alright.

I went back inside to look for a tea or coffee machine.

"Any news on Stella Cameron?" I asked the nurse I saw coming from the treatment area.

"And you are?" she looked me up and down.

"Her sister in law." Okay it was a fib, but a necessary one.

"She's gone down to theatre."

"Oh!" Was that good or bad?

"She won't be back for a while and I suspect she'll be taken up to a gynae ward."

"Do I have time to get a cuppa?"

"Good lord yes, use the cafeteria it's much nicer." She gave me directions.

I went to the reception desk. "If Lord Cameron or Lord Stanebury ask for me, could you say I went for a cuppa."

"Who are you?"

"Cathy."

"What no princess or majesty?"

"The two people I mentioned are hurrying here as we speak. My sister in law, Lady Stella Cameron is down in theatre having emergency surgery. I'm not messing about, but in bringing her in here I missed my breakfast."

"Okay Lady Catherine, I'll make sure they get the message if you're not back."

"Thank you very much, would you like me to bring you back anything?"

"Oh wow, a chocolate croissant if they have any left."

"If they have one, you shall get it."

"Thanks Lady Catherine."

"You're most welcome."

"Who was that?" asked a male voice behind the glass panel.

"A nice lady, I mean a proper Lady, who offered to get me a choccie croissant."

"Slut, I wouldn't touch my foreskin for anyone."

"You idiot, it's forelock, you'd touch your foreskin at any opportunity."

I chuckled as I walked up to the cafeteria. I thought I'd have an hour if not a little longer. All I needed was about fifteen minutes.
I got myself a cuppa and some toast, a croissant for the girl in reception and a bottle of water for later plus some chocolate and a pack of sandwiches. This could be a long haul.

I was back to 'Ac-Em' in about twenty minutes. I gave the girl her croissant. She did offer to pay, but as I may need another favour, it was worth the one pound fifty it cost.

I went and sat in reception and checked my mobile. No news.

I tried to think positive thoughts of my relationship with Stella. She was a lovely person and although she had a wicked side, she was a genuinely kind and compassionate woman. I loved her to bits, like a real sister. If anything happened to her I would be very upset, it would be like losing a sister.

I suspected Tom would have to stay at home for his fence repairs, either that or cancel it. I tried his home number and he answered it. I brought him up to speed and he conveyed his horror at what had happened and wished her a speedy recovery. I asked him to keep confidential anything he might have heard this morning.

"Me, I'm an old man, didn't hear anything."

"Thanks Tom, I don't know when I'll be back."

"You have your key?"

"Yes I do."

"Fine, if I'm not here you can let yourself in."

"I'll try and sort out the mess on the bed, when I get there."

"All done and dusted, there's a new mattress on its way and the bedding is in the machine drying."

"I'm impressed," I said genuinely.

"Why, I'm quite independent, just lazy when I can get someone half my age to do it instead, especially when they have as pretty a bum as yours."

"I shall pretend I didn't hear that sexist remark," I said blushing.

"Want me to repeat it?" he laughed.

"No thank you, you dirty old man." He just laughed at my reply and I rang off.

Finally Simon and Henry walked in together. I stood up and they each hugged me. I looked at my watch. "You did really well to get here this quickly."

"We hired a chopper, how is she?" asked Henry.

"Last I heard she was in theatre."

"What happened?"

"She haemorrhaged from down below."

"Why?" he asked shaking his head.

"It can happen, spontaneous miscarriage all sorts of things." I shrugged my shoulders. I didn't want to lie to him nor betray Stella's confidence in me. Caught between a rock and a hard place again, I felt I should be used to it, but I wasn't.

"You women have such complicated bodies," Henry shook his head, "I wonder if there's any more news." He strode over to reception and asked.

I stood with Simon who had his hand around my waist. "You going to tell me what really happened?"

"I just did, I found her in bed unconscious in a pool of blood which was apparently coming from her genital area."

He gave me an unconvinced look, then shook his head.

I watched Henry talking to some doctor who had come out to him. They shook hands and he came back to us.

"She's still in theatre. A massive bleed from her womb."

"And?" said Simon.

"It's touch and go."

I hugged Simon and felt uncontrollable tears force themselves out of my eyes. It seemed all wrong, rotten people never had anything happen to them, it was always the nice people. How could I believe in a God who let this sort of thing happen? Then I thought about Marguerite, she was no one's fool and if she believed in something, maybe I should think again about it, or perhaps talk to her sometime. For the moment, I was a captive of my emotions and having Simon there meant I could be the weak woman and let them rip.

Henry had got them to call his mobile when Stella was out of surgery, and we were able to retire to the cafeteria and have some coffee. We were there an hour when his phone spluttered into life. Our stomachs flipped, but it was Monica asking how Stella was.

Simon went and got more coffees and cakes. Another hour passed. I was practically asleep. Henry's phone bleeped again and this time it was the hospital. She was being moved to ICU, we could see her in an hour or so.

She was still alive, so far so good.

"If she pulls through, I'll give them a cheque for something they need in this department." Henry pledged to us as witnesses.

"Doesn't that depend on Russian mafia and associated nasty types?" I asked.

"I think I'll be alright," said Henry.

"What was all that that Simon said on TV the other night, money laundering etc.?" I asked.

"Let's go for a walk and I'll tell you," said Henry.

We walked around the grounds and he spun me a story about a hostile takeover bid. The group were actually crooks but were trying to do it in a surreptitious way.

The publicity I could give was negative so the bidders were trying to defame the Cameron family and undermine their position on the board by exposing me. So that was genuine enough. However, it all went wrong for them because the publicity was about them not just me. So I was actually providing the family and the bank with a sympathy vote. It had backfired.

Trading had ceased days before as in accordance with the law, or should have done as the bidders were trying to acquire shares illegally. That put them in a unfortunate position because the bank found out about it and notified the Financial Services Authority (FSA) who then started to investigate the bid.

Who broke up the cottage? Probably the same lot looking to incriminate or find any compromising material they could. There was nothing to find. I suspected that Henry would sail close to the wind now and again, but wouldn't be stupid enough to leave the evidence anywhere it could be found. As a banker he was a professional crook.

"So what was said on the telly was rubbish?" I asked.

"Oh no, it was quite correct except in some aspects of emphasis." Said Henry smiling at Simon. "See he is of use occasionally."

"Gee thanks Dad!" Simon shook his head.

"Come on let's go and see my girl," Henry strode off towards ICU.

We found Stella attached to all sorts of machines and drips, Simon went and kissed her and told her he was there, he made me do the same. Then we left while Henry went and sat alongside her.

"Let's give him some space with her, then if he sheds a tear, no one will see it."

I wasn't sorry, I was terrified for Stella, she was still very ill and being connected to all those things didn't reduce my fears. They might have even made them greater, like something out of a science fiction film, Dr Who or some other nonsense, except this was real.

Simon held me tight as we walked. I looked up at him and I could see tears in his eyes too. I steered us to a relatively private spot and told him it was okay to cry.

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 186

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Sequel or Series Episode

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Other Keywords: 

  • Dormouse / Dormice / Dormeece

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

Easy As Forgetting what It's Called.
by: Erm...
part: 186.

I sat with Simon for about an hour. We didn't say much we were both upset, he cuddled me and I fussed him. We both cried. We both held each other. We both spent several minutes staring into space, or found the leaves of a dandelion suddenly very attention holding.

Finally we had dealt with our immediate emotional needs. "Let's go and see how she is." I said to Simon who nodded his agreement.

The walk to ICU took about ten minutes. Henry was sitting next to the bed, Stella hadn't moved. The machines were still bleeping away. Henry looked to have aged about a hundred years since I last saw him, he looked grey.

"Any change?" asked Simon.

Henry shook his head. He looked so sad, I just wanted to scoop him up and hug him to death.

"Henry, why don't you and I take a little walk, just to keep the circulation moving."

He looked up at me and shook his head, no.

Simon went over to him. "Go on Dad, I'll stay with Stella. I have some dirty jokes to tell her anyway, which I can't tell Cathy because she's too young, and I can't tell you 'cos you've forgotten what it's all about anyway."

"I'm not that old," Henry said indignantly, "ninety three isn't that old these days."

It wasn't that funny, but given the stress of the situation we all fell about laughing, tears rolling down faces. I glanced at the bed and Stella was smirking. I gasped and pointed at her. She had heard the joke and tried to laugh at it.

Suddenly the walk didn't seem like a good idea. We all sat and talked to each other and to Stella. The nurse came and changed her drip, she was still receiving blood, this was now the sixth unit, if they had used all four the original doctor called for. That is a lot of blood.

"I think Tom is going to have a car boot sale with all our clothes," I said trying to sound funny.

"Tell me about the visit of the hunt," said Henry.

Simon and I related the story, making it deliberately funny. Especially the punch up at the end.

"So Simon thumped someone who grabbed you and you hit someone who grabbed him?" said Henry verifying his understanding.

"Hit someone, she laid him out with a whack to the chin with a yard brush." Simon emphasised a little too loudly. The nurse came and asked us to be quiet.

"Are they going to repair Tom's fences?"

"Supposedly, but you know what they're like?"

"Yes I do, I used to ride to hounds myself." Henry asserted himself, "So did little boy blue here, Stella didn't, never did really like horses and killing things."

"Well that's something we have in common." I was blushing but stood my ground. "Killing for sport is morally bankrupt."

"A woman of strong opinions eh?" said Henry nodding at me, "I like that in a woman, don't I Stel?" I gasped again as she nodded in answer to his question.

"Can you open your eyes Stella?" I asked.

She moved her head from side to side. Obviously she couldn't. I leant forward and gripped her hand.

"Can you squeeze my hand Stella?" she moved her arm but seemed unable to carry out my request.

I held on to her hand. "Squeeze my hand now, Stella." She did as I instructed.

"Open your eyes, Stella."

For a moment nothing happened as if she was still downloading the instruction, so I repeated it. Her eyes moved from side to side. Then one fluttered open but closed almost immediately.

I ordered her to open them again and finally after several false starts she managed to do so. At first they didn't seem to be connected to her brain, they were largely unseeing eyes not recognising us immediately. Finally they did because she smiled at her father.

"Stella you can talk, talk to your father." I issued the instruction and she eventually managed to garble a message to Henry. He was crying the whole time. She squeezed his hand and he wept with joy. Maybe she was going to make it after all.

We stayed with her and had a very rudimentary conversation during which she fell asleep every few minutes, then she'd wake, say something unintelligible and go back to sleep.

We left her to sleep about half an hour later, she was obviously very tired. Henry wanted to stay but we persuaded him to come with us for a late lunch.

"So how is the Dormouse Queen?" asked Henry, "How is the project going?"

"Unless Tom is moving it, it isn't going very far or fast. There is just so much paperwork to accept any sightings, especially those of unusual sightings. I'm expecting one of a unicorn any day now."

"Are you trying to tell me they don't exist?" Said Simon, pretending to cry. "I saw them in Harry Potter, they exist you know. Just 'cos you're a bloody expert on dormice, don't mean you know everyfink like wot I does."

"I'm afraid they only exist in enchanted forests and we have very few of those in the United Kingdom."

"If you're such a bloody expert why can't you make more forests enchanted?"

"That needs a special permission from the Queen herself."

"Which I suppose is why there aren't too many enchanted forests."

"Absolutely right," I congratulated Simon for his total support during this week.

Stella said something in Double-Dutch that not even Tom Boonen would understand, then went off to sleep moments later.

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 187

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Sequel or Series Episode

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Other Keywords: 

  • tattoos.

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

"My tattoo would give it away," I sighed.

"What tattoo?" gasped Simon.

"What, you have seen me starkers and didn't notice my tattoo?" I said pouting.

"No I haven't. What is it?"

"A picture of the SS Great Britain and the caption, 'Property of the Great Western Steamboat & Package Co.' It cost me a fortune."

Easy As Getting The Number Wrong.
by: Angharad.
part: aneirif.

We returned to the hospital and the nurse there was pleased to report Stella was making good progress but was now sleeping. Henry opted to sit with her, we decided to go back to Tom's house to bring in some clean nighties and other things she may need in hospital.

As we drove in the taxi to Tom's, Simon asked me if I'd got my stuff ready for January. Of course I hadn't given it a thought. I would have to and decided I would do it at the next weekend. The problem then was I started making mental lists.

"How did you think of getting Stella to open her eyes?" asked Simon.

"She seemed to be having trouble coordinating things, I wondered if telling her what to do would enable her to do it. It seemed to work. If it hadn't, I'd have been stuffed."

"Now there's a thought," Simon had this very satisfied grin on his face.

"It's true what they say about boys then?"

"What is?"

"They only ever think about three things, the other two are cars and football."

"If that is the case Miss Stereotype, You have a huge section of your brain devoted to shopping?"

"Absolutely," I said grinning.

Simon shook his head, "What am I going to do with you?"

"I thought marriage was the plan?"

"Yes but dormice seem to get in the way all the time."

"All the time? I can't think why," I replied to his exaggeration.

"Leave me to do the thinking, you just count the vermin."

"They are not vermin, they are protected."

"Okay, protected vermin."

"Grrr!" I growled at him, "You're as bad as Tom, he sees everything with large front teeth as a pest."

"Like Ken Dodd,* he said.

I tried not to laugh, but it was a funny line, so I cackled for all I was worth. I knew it would only encourage him.

Saved by the bell, we arrived at Tom's house and I let us in. Most of the fencing appeared to have been repaired or replaced.

Tom wasn't there but he'd left a note to say he'd gone into work for a short time. He'd also eaten chicken curry by the smell of the kitchen. Some leopards never change their spots.

Simon borrowed my car to go and get some of his clothes from the cottage, while he was gone I got some stuff together for Stella, some clean nighties, her sponge bag and other toiletries, plus some clothes to wear home. I had no idea how long she'd be in hospital, at least a couple more days. I also had to remember I was going to take Stevie for his results from the GUM clinic. Poor kid, I'd hate to be in his shoes.

While I waited for Simon, I called the hospital in Bristol. Daddy was okay and understood why I wasn't seeing him. I sent my love to him and said I'd be there as soon as I could.

Next I called the university and spoke with Pippa.

"How is Stella?" she asked.

"Getting there I hope. Is Tom there?"

"He was, he was called into a meeting."

"Oh okay, I'll speak to him later."

"You haven't heard the gossip?"

"What gossip, I usually am the gossip, or the subject of it!" I replied indignantly.

"Well it isn't you this time, big head."

I poked my tongue out at her, which was a complete waste of time but I felt better. "So are you going to tell me or do I wait until the drums down here pick up the message?"

"Tom has got funding for a new lecturer in mammalian zoology, to start after Easter."

"Lets me out then." I said.

"How come?"

"I'll only just be coming back from 'you know what.'

"So?"

"Well there will be better qualified people than me, plus I'm trying to do my doctorate."

"It's a part time post."

"Oh is it?"

"Yes, so you'd have time to do all you do and get a proper salary for it."

"I'll speak to him about it."

"Make sure you do."

"Yes boss."

I rang off and had barely time to put the kettle on when Simon arrived. I made us some tea and then he went and changed. I looked down at my jeans and realised I had some of Stella's blood on them. I went and changed too, into a skirt and my red boots.

"Wanna go and see Stella or stay home and make mad, passionate love?" he asked me.

"Can't we go and see Stella and make mad, passionate love there?" I asked grinning.

"They do have beds," said Simon nodding, "but they also have CCTV."

"If we got the film we could sell them as porno flicks." I was getting suddenly entrepreneurial in my old age.

"Now you're thinking Batwoman," he said, "Just make sure you take your sunglasses, unless you want to be recognised."

"My tattoo would give it away," I sighed.

"What tattoo?" gasped Simon.

"What, you have seen me starkers and didn't notice my tattoo?" I said pouting.

"No I haven't. What is it?"

"A picture of the SS Great Britain and the caption, 'Property of the Great Western Steamboat & Package Co.' It cost me a fortune."

"You are joking?" he said smiling, but he wasn't at all sure. He was wondering how he could have missed it.

"Don't be silly, I wouldn't joke about such things."

"Where is it then?"

"You haven't seen it have you?"

"No, but I'd love to."

"Too bad, we have to go out and relieve your dad and his Stella sitting.

He was busy looking at me, trying to figure out where such a tatto could be where he hadn't seen it. There was one place, but I wasn't going to tell him.

He carried Stella's overnight bag to the car, I grabbed my coat and bag and went with him. He drove and I got the car parking ticket. This is a real rip off, seven quid for four hours!

When we got to ICU, Stella had been moved to a ward, so we traipsed around to that. Fortunately she had a private room and when we got there, she was fast asleep and so was Henry. Simon and I both laughed.

"Good afternoon, Father," he said loudly by Henry's ear. He nearly fell off the chair. "Some visitor you are," was his next comment to his dazed parent.

Stella stirred with the noise and I went to sit alongside her bed, gripping her hand gently. Her eyes opened, she looked at me for a few minutes, smiled and went back to sleep. If only there was room in the bed for two!

"So where's this tattoo then?" said Simon, having sent his father off to their hotel in Southsea.

"Where's the one part of me you can't see?"

"I dunno, never mind the riddles just tell me."

"Why should I?"

"Don't then, I'll find it later."

"Will you now?" I asked.

"Yes."

"Only if I let you."

"You'll let me."

"You have a lot of confidence in your powers of persuasion, pity those of observation are so inferior to them."

"What?" he demanded.

"You heard me Simon Cameron."

"I always get what I want."

"I think that should read, 'You always get what you want - when I say so.'"

There was a snort of laughter from the bed, we both turned and Stella was giggling to herself. "You two," she laughed, "should hear yourselves."

"You're feeling better?" I said kissing her.

"Yes, can I go home now?"

*Ken Dodd, a British comedian who has prominent buck teeth (from an accident when he was a kid - fell off a bike would you believe!) creator of Tickling sticks and the Diddymen. Also done for tax evasion!

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 188

Author: 

  • Angharad

Caution: 

  • CAUTION: Sex / Sexual Scenes

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Sequel or Series Episode

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Other Keywords: 

  • Dormouse / Dormice / Dormeece

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

"It's that dormouse woman," said the same idiot we had seen last time.

"She ain't a woman though is she, she's one of those sexchangers."

"I don't care, I'd still shag her, she's prettier than my girlfriend."

"I'm prettier than your Janice," said wag number two.

Easy As Falling Off A Bike.
by Angharad
part 188.

I went and spoke to the sister on the ward and she told me that Stella would have to stay over night, the consultant wanted her to rest some more and he would see her in the morning.

I went back to relay the information, "Sorry Stel, you have to stay, the big man wants to see you tomorrow."

"Well why can't I get up then?"

"They say bed rest."

"And take these stupid stocking things off," she poked a leg out of the covers and displayed a greeny blue elastic knee high stocking.

"Very sexy," said Simon predictably. In fact if he hadn't, I think I would have checked to see if he was still awake.

"I'll bring you in something to match them," I said grinning.

"Don't laugh too loudly," she said, "you'll have your own in a couple of weeks."

"Oh!" I said. Shit they are ugly things, look like they should be worn with a plaid, pleated skirt and a blazer, like a convent school uniform.

"You've gone very quiet," she said.

"Yes, I was wondering if I'll be able to wear jeans when I go home from here."

"I think they may feel a bit hard, so better bring your school uniform."

"How did you know I was thinking of that?" I asked in astonishment.

"It's about the only thing I can think of that would match it." She had paralleled my thinking.

"Ooh, can I see you in your school uniform," Simon said winking at me, "you can show me your tattoo while you're at it."

"Tell you what Simon, I'll dress up as a schoolgirl, if you will." I smiled at him.

"Don't be silly, I'd look stupid."

"So would I." I folded my arms which should have signalled an end to the conversation, but Simon hadn't read the manual.

"No you wouldn't, I think you'd look rather sexy, what do you think Stel?"

"I agree she'd look better than you in a girl's school uniform, but I hate to say it, I don't think I'd find it sexy." Stella winked at me.

"Mind you, I think she'd be sexy in a black bin liner," he said smiling.

"I am not wearing one of those either." I was standing now with my arms still folded and tapping my foot.

Simon suddenly got the message I was not very happy with the conversation.

A nurse arrived with Stella's evening meal, so we were able to escape and I promised I'd phone in the morning and find out if they were discharging her, in which case I'd take her back to Tom's house.

"What do you want for dinner?" I asked Simon.

"You."

A flashback to my original meeting and thoughts of him being a cannibal went through my mind, but I didn't find it amusing. I was tired and his constant referral to sex was irritating me.

I was driving this time and pulled into a lay by. "Simon, I love you to bits and I want you to make passionate love to me. However, I don't have the bits to enable that and I find your constant reference to sex very frustrating. I'm sorry I can't oblige, but I am doing my best." The tears started and I wanted to be alone, so I got out of the car.

He waited in the car possibly taking on board what I had said, possibly switching his brain on, or whatever men do when they have embarrassed their girlfriends. I didn't know and I didn't care.

I wiped the tears with a tissue and walked back towards the car. I hadn't resolved anything, but I had stopped crying. "You can drive," I said opening the passenger door. He got out and went around to the driver's side.

"I'm sorry," he said, "I didn't think."

Instead of agreeing with him and biting his head off, I nodded acknowledgement. "Can we go now?" I asked and he drove us back to Tom's in silence.

"What's the matter with the lovebirds?" asked Tom as we walked in.

"Nothing," I snapped and went up to my room."

I heard Simon talking with him as I went up the stairs, so I expected he was telling him what I said. Probably adding, I was premenstrual or something. Certainly I felt irritable. I was in half a mind to go to bed, maybe it was tiredness, but I owed Tom a meal for his generosity to us.

I washed my face and hands and gave myself a good talking to, telling myself to stop being stupid and to accept that Simon was a normal bloke and they thought of sex thirty six hours a day. I was the odd one, not even being a normal woman. I didn't know if I should get randy after surgery. I did now, but that was just a source of frustration for me, all I could do was relieve Simon by means other than penetration, which did nothing for my frustration.

I tried to wipe it from my mind and went downstairs. Simon and Tom were having a glass of beer, I went to the kitchen and switched on the kettle. Cuppa in hand, I went to join them.

"Tom was suggesting we went out for something to eat."

"Oh," I said, not sure if I could be bothered. I wasn't so much hungry as tired.

"So what do you think?" he asked me. I looked at Tom and he shrugged.

"It's up to you Cathy." Simon looked at me as he said it.

Now I felt guilty. I'd already chewed him up for my own frustrations, I couldn't deny him some food. "Okay," I said, "but somewhere quiet, I'm not going to change again, I'm too tired."

"You look fine like that," smiled Tom, telling white lies.

"We don't have to go out, I can order a pizza or go and get a take away." Simon was trying to humour me, but it was irritating me again.

"I said I would come with you, I will." I stood up and walked out of the room.

"What's the matter with her?" asked Tom.

"Dunno, if I didn't know better I'd say she was on." I heard Simon's answer.

That pushed some more of my buttons and I went upstairs before I started to cry again. What was wrong with me? Once more I told myself off in the mirror and applied minimal makeup. Thank God, the mascara was waterproof.

When I went down again, Simon hugged me and apologised.

"I think it's me who has to apologise," I countered.

"No, I was out of order earlier and you've had a trying day."

"So have you, rushing back from London."

"Yeah but you had a shock when you found Stella, Tom has been telling me about it."

"Look let's go and get dinner and get home to bed."

"You don't have t..." I pushed my finger to Simon's lips and hushed him. He nodded and we called Tom who had been discreetly seeing to his dog.

We ate at the same pub we had used a few nights before, when we were hiding from the press. I felt relieved that I could now walk about normally.

"It's that dormouse woman," said the same idiot we had seen last time.

"She ain't a woman though is she, she's one of those sexchangers."

"I don't care, I'd still shag her, she's prettier than my girlfriend."

"I'm prettier than your Janice," said wag number two.

"Can I shag you then?" said number one.

"Fuck off!"

"I'm trying to, but you're playing hard to get."

Thankfully Simon didn't hear their conversation or it could have ended in some unpleasantness and the funerals of two oiks. He was significantly larger than them. I went and sat in the corner and asked for a fruit juice, I knew I would be driving back but I wasn't going to allow Simon and Tom to get pissed. Tonight, I didn't think they would argue with me.

We ordered, I went for a tuna salad, what a surprise? Simon had a steak and so did Tom, which threw me.

"No curry today then Tom?" I asked.

"Had one lunch time." He ate more curry than I did chocolate!

We talked about work and he told me he needed some input from me. I told him I would do what I could, but I might have to collect Stella and had to take Stevie to the clinic for his results. Tom shrugged and nodded, asking me to do what I could.

"There is one other thing, the local rag wants to talk to you about your change of lifestyle."

"Why?" I shook my head in disbelief.

"Because it interests people and you happen to be more successful than most."

"So, that makes me interesting, does it?"

"Maybe, don't shoot me, I'm only the messenger."

"It's only because I'm engaged to Simon. If we broke that off, they wouldn't be the least bit worried about me."

Simon's face showed alarm, with the mood I was in, he was worried I might just do it to see if the Echo would leave me in peace. He kept very quiet perhaps worrying that if he spoke, I'd react badly.

I leant forward and stroked his hand. "I'm not going to dump him just to get rid of the press."

His face brightened up.

"If I dumped him it would be for other reasons."

His face fell and he almost choked on a chip.

"But not tonight." I added and Tom smirked mouthing 'bitch' at me. I winked back.

They only had a pint of local brew each, so I couldn't nag them for that. Quite how they get some of the names for these ales baffles me. I don't really like beer or lager, although I will drink a little on a hot day, then it is thirst quenching. They were drinking something with a name like, 'Spotty Stoat or Wily Weasel'. Maybe I misread it, could it have been, 'Weasel's Willie?' I didn't know and thinking about it was using up too many of my stressed brain cells.

We drove home and I made us all a cuppa, after which Simon and I went to bed. To give him his due, he offered to sleep separately, but as Stella's bed was waiting for it's new mattress, the other bedroom wasn't made up, and I didn't think he'd want to sleep with Tom, so I let him into our room. His clothes were in the other wardrobe to mine.

We washed and then after brushing our teeth, went to bed. I was still nervous of getting excited because something was wont to move if I did. I tucked it back and wore a firm pair of panties, but....

Simon seemed surprised that I wanted to cuddle with him. I was tired but felt I owed him, and I did love the man. I needed to explain something which was difficult. It was a good job the light was off, because I was blushing like crazy, when I explained the change in my external anatomy, and why.

"Look Cathy, I know it's still there but not for much longer. I think I can cope anyway, and besides, if you can get some pleasure from it, well...."

I did try not to cry, and managed to do so silently and he hugged me until I stopped. Then he kissed me and touched my breasts. I touched against his manhood and he whimpered, so I touched it some more.

We slept well that night, even if we both had to change our underwear and the tension that had been building in me for days, felt much easier.

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 189

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Sequel or Series Episode

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Other Keywords: 

  • HIV - AIDS.

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

'N Esmwyth Fel Yn Adfeilio Off Beic.
Gan: Angharad.
Pennod: 189.

Simon had showered and gone before I really came to. I didn't sleep that well and woke worying about Stella, Stevie and my own forthcoming ordeal. I was and wasn't scared of getting the plumbing job done, but I knew it wouldn't be that pleasant and dilation afterwards would literally be a pain.

I got myself showered and dressed, and went into the university. I called the hospital, Stella wouldn't be seen until later that morning and the decision to discharge her or not would be made later. I asked if they could phone me, I felt as if I was asking for something very unusual or difficult because of the sighing and humming and hawing at the other end. Eventually, the sister agreed. Wow!

I texted Stevie to remind him we had the appointment that afternoon and he replied, 'How can i forget it?'. I suppose that summed things up.

The morning flashed by, calls to other organisers of the survey and recruitment of more supervisors to run the survey volunteers. I had produced a protocol for the training of supervisors and volunteers, most of whom would be looking for all signs of mammals in their squares. They'd have two kilometre squares to survey, the hardest would be the inner city ones, although foxes and badgers turned up in many of them, the odd deer and of course rats and mice. Things like squirrels could happen if there were trees or parks, and they may need to do live trapping to see if voles or shrews appeared.

We had a grant to supply up to two thousand live traps. A plastic or metal box with a supply of food and water and a one way door. The only problem is if you get two animals which might fight or eat each other. Rats were one such possibility.

Pippa kept us topped up with coffee or tea as well as knocking out several letters and one report. She also answered the phone, one of which was for me.

"Hello, Cathy Watts Mammal Survey Coordinator, how can I help?"

"It's Sister Roberts, you can collect Lady Cameron after lunch providing there will be someone to look after her for a couple of days."

"I think we can arrange something," I said, meaning I'd have to do it.

"Okay then anytime after two."

"I have to take one of my students to an outpatient's appointment at three, so I'll call after that, if it's okay."

"Yes, fine."

Pippa got me a sandwich for lunch and I sat at my desk and ate it. I checked on how my dormouse counters were doing, and it seemed okay from the data they were collecting and they were enjoying it. Mind you, I used to myself, a forest at night is an amazing place providing there aren't any gun toting poachers around.

At just before half two, Stevie turned up looking as if he hadn't slept for a month.

"Are you okay?" I asked worrying if he'd already started losing his immune system.

"Yes, I just didn't sleep very well."

"For a week by the look of you," I smiled at him and I could see tears in his eyes.

"I am so fucking frightened I'm nearly pissing myself," he said and I saw a drop of water run from his eye.

I opened my arms to him and he fell into them and sobbed on my shoulder. I felt so sorry for him, whatever happened this afternoon, the next hour or so were going to be torture for him.

Once he'd regained his composure, we set off for the hospital. We drove in silence except for the CD player in my car playing a Madeleine Peyroux record. Stevie seemed to enjoy her bluesy-jazz and relaxed a little. (Well it was either that or Abba - no contest).

I managed to park reasonably easily, though at a fiver for two hours, thought it was a rip off. I walked into the waiting room with Stevie and he asked me to book him in as he rushed to the toilet. I did and waited for him. He was some little time coming out, he'd been sick and had also had the squits. I hoped it was just nerves because the way he was going, he'd be dead in three months.

He was called and he went off like someone going to their execution. It was cruel to watch. I sat there worrying, if he was positive would it be a good idea to have him in the car with Stella, two traumatised individuals in one car - not a good idea, but I seemed stuck with it.

I sat, stood and walked about and still he didn't show. "Miss Watts," called the same voice which had summoned Stevie.

I walked towards the woman who was calling me, "Is everything alright?" I asked.

"No," she hissed and took me into a separate room.

"What's the problem?" I asked quietly.

"I'm going to admit your friend."

"What?" I gasped.

"You know why he's here?"

"Yes once he confided in me, I made him come here."

"How is he?"

"Not at all well, mainly dehydrated. He's also very depressed and distressed."

"Not particularly surprising given what he's been through for two weeks. So that's it then?"

"Yes someone is coming over to take him to the wards."

"I'll let the university know he won't be in for a few days." I offered.

"Yes," she gave me a very strange look.

"Longer?"

She shrugged her shoulders.

"Look I know you can't tell me anything, but is there anyone he wants me to notify that he's ill?"

"I'll go and ask him, please wait here." She disappeared through a connecting door. Moments later she called me in.

He was crying and when he saw me, he threw himself into my arms and wept bitterly. "I'm going to die," he said and I sobbed with him.

It took me several minutes to get myself together, how can these things happen? He was only a kid. "Is there anything I can do?" I asked.

"Come to my funeral."

"Stevie, come on you could live for years yet, with the retroviral drugs and all."

"I lied to you Cathy, this was my second relationship. The first one was three years ago. I've got AIDS, have had for a year or more."

"So did you give it to that sailor?"

"Nah, we used protection. I just needed to tell someone and you were so kind to me and I thought you'd understand better than most. The drugs aren't helping anymore and I have something on my liver, probably a sarcoma."

"Jesus Stevie, why didn't you get help?" I wanted to hug him and hit him at the same time. "Why didn't you tell someone?"

"Can you tell them at college that I won't be coming back."

"Look, you have to keep fighting, new drugs appear every day." I wasn't sure who I was trying to convince.

"I'm tired of fighting, tired of everything especially being a fucking queer. Why couldn't I have been a normal man with a wife and one point eight kids, working in an office?"

"I don't know Stevie, I'm probably the last person you should ask."

"I dunno Cathy, you seem to have life sussed pretty good, a career and a partner."

"And a disabled father, plus inlaws like the Addams Family."

He laughed for a moment.

"I have to go, I have to collect someone from one of the wards as well today. Pity you're not coming you could have met my crazy sister in law to be." He laughed at my description of Stella.

We hugged again. "Is there anyone you want me tell you're in hospital?" I asked.

"My family don't know."

"Oh." I waited for further information.

"We have someone who could speak to them at the hospital," said the nurse counsellor.

"That may be best," I agreed trying to sidestep the awful task.

"They don't know me, you do, will you do it?"

"What do want to me to tell them?" I asked wishing I was anywhere but here at this moment. Then realised what a privilege it was he was passing to me.

"The truth. My dad's homophobic so I could never tell them."

"What makes you think I can?"

"Because you're a beautiful woman and people believe you, you have a way with people. I trusted you as soon as I met you and you also read me like a book."

"Did I? If I did I must have missed half the pages, Jesus Stevie, what a Godawful mess!"

"Yeah." He hugged me and cried some more on me. The porter arrived to take him to the ward. "Come and see me, you're like my big sister."

"Of course I'll come and see you." I said as he was pushed off in the wheelchair.

I was left dabbing my face with a tissue and even the nurse counsellor had wet eyes.

"How bad is he? I mean how sick is he?" I asked not really wanting to know the answer.

"About as bad as it gets, he has a fast growing tumour according to his notes."

"You mean you didn't know?"

"We go on what people tell us and our own tests and observations. Two weeks ago he looked much better, but his bloods showed there was lots wrong. We tried to call him to come earlier, but he didn't answer. We wrote to him and he wrote back saying he'd keep this appointment. When I asked him why, he said it was because you would be with him.

I don't know what your relationship is with him, but he thinks a great deal of you."

"I'm his tutor at university. That's all. I only met him a two or three weeks ago."

"Well Miss Watts, he's given you an unenviable task. If you like I could try and get someone to go with you."

"Where do his parent's live?" I asked.

"In Bristol." I nearly fell over.

She gave me the address and I knew it well, I have cycled past there dozens of times. "Okay, I know where this is, I used to live in Bristol, my father still does."

She handed me a card, "If you need help, give me a call."

I thanked her and wandered in a daze to find Stella, then get her down to the door before I got the car. Pick up points were very limited and seemed to have hospital car service vehicles or ambulances parked in most of them. The fresh air felt good I was still alive, I had to hang on to that fact. I was still alive.

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 190

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Sequel or Series Episode

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Other Keywords: 

  • AIDS/ HIV

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

I was in the kitchen making some tea, I badly needed a cup of its life giving waters. I took us out a tray of tea. We sat in the lounge, Tom and Stella jabbering away and me trying to calm down after the afternoon's trauma. I closed my eyes and what seemed like minutes later opened them, it was dark

Easy As Falling Off A Bike
by Angharad,
part:190

"I can carry my own bag." Insisted Stella ripping it out of my hands.

The words of the ward sister were echoing in my head, "Please don't let her relapse, my nerves won't stand it." Here we were outside the ward fighting over her bag.

"Stella, you have been really ill."

"Yeah, well I'm better now."

"You lost pints of blood."

"Yeah, well they topped me up, so I'm okay."

"You had surgery to stop a haemorrhage."

"That was then, I'm fine I tell you."

"Stella, I have just brought someone here is who is very much sicker than I thought. He is dying, I am really not in the mood to fight with you."

"What have I got to do to prove I am well, race you to the car?"

"No you stay here, I'll go and get the car."

"In which case, I'll come with you."

"No you won't Stella."

"Don't tell me what to do."

Very quietly I said, "I am going to get the car. You are staying put. I have had a bad day and am going to kill the next person who upsets me."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously."

I walked away my temper was up to my scalp and I was fit to burst. She doesn't usually play up like this, whose blood did they use - mine?

By the time I was sat in the car, I wanted to burst into tears. Now I had agreed to go to Bristol and tell Stevie's parents. Oh what joy! What was wrong with me, why can't I say no? But then how can I refuse a dying boy's wish?

I started up the car and went to collect Stella. She was silent all the way back to Tom's. She tapped her foot in time to the music I was playing, but no other sound was made by either of us. Had I upset her or was she playing safe and not risking provoking me. I didn't know and didn't have the energy to care enough to ask her.

I parked up and we went in. Tom was there. He hugged Stella and asked how she was.

"I'm fine, a bit tired but okay. I have to take two weeks off."

"Well if you get bored you can help Cathy and me with our project."

"Can I let you know on that Tom?"

"Of course you can."

I was in the kitchen making some tea, I badly needed a cup of its life giving waters. I took us out a tray of tea. We sat in the lounge, Tom and Stella jabbering away and me trying to calm down after the afternoon's trauma. I closed my eyes and what seemed like minutes later opened them, it was dark

Tom walked in with a cup of tea. "Hello sleepyhead."

"Oh, erm, what time is it?" I asked.

"A quarter to seven."

"What, I've been asleep for two hours?"

"Yes, you looked dead beat when you got in."

"Maybe I was then. Where's Stella?"

"Lying on her bed. The new mattress arrived and I've put it on her bed."

"Thanks Tom," I accepted the tea and the mattress with the same acknowledgement.

"What happened at the hospital?"

"This is confidential, okay?"

"I'll be the judge of that if it concerns one of my students." Tom asserted himself and I was too tired to argue.

"You took Steven Naylor to the hospital, what happened?"

"He's got AIDS, full blown syndrome with a possible liver tumour."

"Okay, I'll see what charitable concession I can wring out of the Dean's paws."

I looked as if I was confused, which was just how I felt.

"We have some hardship funds, I'll see if I can squeeze some money out of one of them, make things easier if we can."

"That's lovely Tom. I have to go and see his landlord and see if I can get him a change of PJs and take his toiletries in."

"When?"

"Now. Can you watch Stella doesn't go to any mad parties?"

"What about sane ones?"

"She's safe there, no sane person would invite her."

"Hey, that's your future sister in law you're talking about."

"Yes, so I know what I'm saying."

"Don't you want me to come with you?"

"Thanks for the offer, but I'll be okay. I'll be back as soon as I can, want me to bring in something?"

"Nah, I'll order some pizzas."

"Okay, don't save any for me, I don't particularly like them."

"Okay, your loss."

"Tom you don't fancy a trip to Bristol tomorrow, do you?"

"Why is your dad playing up?"

"No, I agreed to tell Stevie's homophobic parents that he's dying of Aids."

"Oh shit! That's not your job surely?"

"He asked me to do it."

"Is that wise given the publicity in Bristol about you?"

"Dunno, but your company would be appreciated."

"Who's going to babysit her ladyship?"

"I asked Pippa, told her I'd pay her."

"I'll go halves on that bill."

"You don't need to."

"I know what I have and haven't got to do, and this comes in the
first category."

"You're a nice man Tom Agnew." I threw my arms around him and hugged him.

"Hey what happened to the nutty professor you told Pippa about?"

"Me, nah, that must have been my evil twin sister?"

He laughed but held me until I let go of him. He had a slightly musty odour about him, as if he didn't wash often enough or change his clothes, both of which I knew were false I did his laundry and saw him shower regularly. Do older men smell a little? I'd always assumed it was of stale wee, if they did. This was definitely not that.

I drove to the address I'd got from the Stevie and spoke with his landlady. She was horrified to hear he was very poorly, but told me she was worried he'd looked so thin for the past week.

"They think it might be something with his liver, but I don't have any other details to give you."

"That's okay, I'll go and see him, such a nice young man not out chasing girls or drink and drugs."

"No," I agreed.

She took me to his room and we sorted some clothes for him and his toothbrush and toiletries. I thanked her and went to the hospital.

I parked and took his stuff up to the ward, I had to ask which one and they looked it up on the computer. He was fast asleep, when I arrived and rather than wake him I left his stuff with a nurse and asked her to tell him I'd been in. He looked very young and vulnerable, more like a child than a young man. I had to leave it was upsetting me.

I called by the shop I'd used from my rooms. Raj and his wife were pleased to see me and made me stop and have a cuppa with them. I bought some wholemeal rolls and cheese from them and went back to Tom's.

"Tom has been telling me about your afternoon, I'm sorry I played up."

"It's okay Stella, but I'm so tired all I want to do is go to bed."

"Aren't you going to eat something?"

"I'm not hungry but I am shattered."

She hugged me, "Thank you for saving my life."

"I need someone to advise me on clothes when I get married."

"Ah, I knew you had a hidden agenda."

"That's me," I said yawning, "right now it's to get some sleep."

"Tom said you were going to Bristol tomorrow."

"Tom has a big gob at times."

"This boy has AIDS right?" I nodded, "I've nursed people with AIDS, I might be able to help."

"It's a long drive, you'd be better off resting."

"I can rest on the way up and back."

"That isn't the same."

"Who's the health professional here?"

"There isn't one, you're on sick leave."

"Damn!"

"We can talk about it tomorrow, but I'm not saying yes now."

"Alright, I might change my mind just to spite you."

"Feel free, I'm going to bed. Goodnight. Goodnight Tom," I called and he answered from his study.

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 191

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Sequel or Series Episode

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Other Keywords: 

  • cycling
  • soup
  • HIV/AIDS

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

We walked up to the front door and Tom pushed the bell button, a ding dong chime sounded in the hallway behind the door, I felt quite sick. I kept thinking, the police have to do this sort of thing quite regularly - which probably explains why they're all so bitter and twisted when it comes to dealing with motorists, passing on the grief.

Easy As Falling Off A Bike.
by Angharad.
part 191.

Despite my worries about meeting up with Stevie's parents over the weekend, I managed to fall into a deep sleep. It was nearly seven when I awoke to a strange noise in the bedroom and nearly crapped myself when a hand touched my hip.

"Simon, you frightened the proverbial out of me then," I said loudly and slapped him on his shoulder.

His snore turned into a snort and he rolled over and opened his eyes, "Damn!" He exclaimed, "I was just going to get it together with Angelina Jolie."

"Oh excuse me for breathing!" I said feeling slightly inadequate compared to the screen siren.

"She was just going to show me her tattoos while Brad was out."

"And I thought that was a table leg sticking into my bum!" I grabbed his morning woody and squeezed gently.

He jumped and let out a little mewing noise, "Oh don't, I need a pee." Then he disengaged himself and dashed into the loo. I had a feeling it was going to take him a few minutes without an ice pack, so I nipped out to the main bathroom. Actually without the 'mones, I had a small erection myself, but I was still back before Simon.

"I hope you're not doing anything naughty in there," I called.

"Would you believe I can't go?" he called back.

"Serves you right, Angelina Jolie, huh!"

I heard him running the tap to aid his difficulty. Then I thought I could hear him managing to go, so I called, "If you'd hurried, you could have seen my tattoo, but it's too late now."

When he came back in, I was giggling and rolled up in the quilt.

We wrestled for a few minutes, tickling each other, then we kissed. I was very glad something was well hidden.

"So when did you come home?"

"Just before midnight, Tom was locking up. You were so fast asleep, I don't think a military band would have woken you. Tom told me about your new problem, wondered if I should come too."

"This is assuming they will speak to me," I added to his comment.

"Duh! Well of course otherwise it's a waste of time." He shook his head and tickled me again. He was kneeling over me, I was still wrapped in the quilt and unable to move, he was looking at me.

"What's wrong?" I asked blushing.

"I'm just looking at the woman I love."

I blushed and closed my eyes aware of something in my knickers which was very unwomanly.

"Even without any makeup, you are still beautiful and I fancy you like mad."

"I'm afraid you're going to have to wait a while longer yet." I said without opening my eyes.

I felt his lips touch mine and I kissed him back, drawing his tongue into my mouth....

After I showered and dressed, I went downstairs where Tom was brewing a pot of coffee. "Would it be better if you phoned his parents?" I asked.

"I can if you want, you afraid of doing it?"

"No, I just thought it may get them to agree to an appointment sooner."

"I suspect they'll be the same as any parents once you mention their child, they'll want to know what's what."

"Yeah but if I phone they may think he's got me into trouble or something."

Tom choked on his coffee and I had to pat him on the back to help his coughing, I of course was giggling.

"Okay," he croaked and coughed, "if you don't kill me first, I'll phone them."

I looked at my watch, "May be a good idea to do it soon in case they go out."

"Slave driver," he said holding out his hand for the paper with the number on it.

He dialled and it took a couple of minutes for someone to answer it. He was just about to give up when someone obviously did pick up. "Hello, Mrs Naylor?" he paused for an answer.

"This is Professor Agnew from Portsmouth University, that's right Steven's head of department. Look I need to speak to you about Steven and wondered if you were going to be in later today. Yes, it would be good if your husband were there as well. No he hasn't done anything wrong. No dear lady if he was deceased, the police would have been knocking your door. Yes I have to drive up with a colleague, this afternoon at two would be very convenient. We'll see you later, my colleague, yes his personal tutor. No it's, 'she' it's a woman. Yes we do have women teachers, we even have some women professors, indeed very emancipated. We'll see you at two. Goodbye."

He put the phone down, "Next time Cathy Watts, you can do your own dirty work."

I hugged him, "She'd have wheedled it out of me over the phone."

"Hmm," was all he said, hugging me back.

"I could do you some bacon and egg if you forgive me?"

"Erm, that's bribery."

"Of course it is."

"Alright."

"Let me just see if Stella wants some." I ran up to her room with a coffee, she didn't fancy a cooked breakfast, just some toast. She was going to shower and come down once she'd drunk her coffee.

I did a fry up for Tom and Simon and a bit for myself. I figured that if I ate now, missing lunch wouldn't be so important. My bit turned out as big as everyone else's.

We agreed that Simon would follow me up with Stella in his car, then after we'd spoken to Stevie's 'rents, I could go and see my dad and Simon would bring the others home and I'd come back on my own, probably the next day after seeing dad again.

I quickly made some carrot and onion soup, which Tom asked me to save some for him, then Simon said the same and so did Stella. I had just enough veg to make another batch!

I packed a case and put it in the car along with a pile of other things, including my laptop and Daddy's soup. I asked Simon if he minded me seeing Des, if he was around. Simon shrugged and nodded.

A couple of minutes before we left, I sent Des a text, 'In brissle 2nite r u? Cathy.'

I hadn't got to the car when my phone beeped with a text. 'Yes, c u @8 ur place. D.'

I replied, 'ok, just 2 talk. C.'

'ok. bring ur bike.'

"Shit!" I had to put on the bike rack and load my bike, then collect all my cycling gear, which took another twenty minutes. Tom stood chuckling the whole time I was swearing at the bungies on the rack and getting oil on my hands. Then I had to go and scrub them - it was not going to plan.

Simon and Stella were ready to go before me, which miffed me. In his Swedemobile he'd pee past my little girlycar. Oh well he could wait for us. I locked the bike into place and Tom shut up the house.

"See you at the M4 services then, last one there pays," called Simon as he screeched out of Tom's drive.

"Hope you have your purse with you?" said Tom as we finally got in the car.

I concentrated on coping with the traffic, which was heavy. Christmas was fast approaching and the shoppers were in a frenzy. Sadly, they all have cars.

Once on the motorway, I could relax a little and discuss with Tom how we were going to run our little meeting.

"Stevie thinks his dad is homophobic, so this isn't going to be easy."

"When is it ever easy to tell someone something like this?" He replied.

"Yeah, shit happens, usually to me."

"Cathy, someone has to save the universe and as Flash Gordon isn't available, it's fallen to you."

"Damn, I was counting on help from Superman." I hit the steering wheel in mock frustration.

"I think Wonder Woman will manage it on her own," said Tom smiling.

"What's the opposite of, Oh ye of little faith? As in, ye of too much confidence." I said answering my own question. Tom sniggered.

"How about I introduce us and then hand over to you? I'll back you up and watch in case Pop Naylor gets funny."

"Okay, although I'd prefer you tell 'em and I'll sit in the car with the engine running."

"It was you to whom the task has fallen."

"I know, I know, oh shit!"

We pulled off the motorway and up the A34 towards Newbury, from there it was a short drive to the M4 and about half to three quarters of an hour later, we were turning into the Leigh Delamere services. I even managed to pull up alongside Simon.

"Do we have to eat here, surely there's a pub in Bristol we can use?" asked my future hubby.

They all looked at me. I nodded and we drove off to a pub about five minutes drive from my father's house. I left the three of them at the pub with a request to order me something with tuna in it, preferably a salad or sandwiches, then I dashed off to leave the bike at home. I had unloaded the car and was back just as the food was being served, a tuna baguette, yummy.

After lunch we set off for the Naylor's house, Simon and Stella insisted on coming too and waiting outside in his car just in case they were needed. I was wearing a denim suit and agreed to have my phone in my pocket ready to speed dial for help if necessary.

The house was a 1950's semi with a neatly kept front garden and a BMW parked in the drive. My stomach flipped over and I began to question the wisdom of eating lunch.

We walked up to the front door and Tom pushed the bell button, a ding dong chime sounded in the hallway behind the door, I felt quite sick. I kept thinking, the police have to do this sort of thing quite regularly - which probably explains why they're all so bitter and twisted when it comes to dealing with motorists, passing on the grief.

"Yes," said a young woman of about seventeen.

"We've an appointment with Mr and Mrs Naylor," I let Tom open the batting.

"About Steve?"

"Yes," said Tom.

"Come in."

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 192

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Sequel or Series Episode

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Other Keywords: 

  • HIV/AIDS
  • homosexuality.

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

"No, I'm an ordinary woman who came to womanhood by a more tortuous path than you, but my world is as boring and mundane as yours. I'm not into any secret worlds except that of The Mammal Society and Portsmouth university cycling club." It was a slight fib, but I felt my cowardice wouldn't allow her to tar me with any brush, except that of normality. Okay, so I'm a hypocrite in some ways, although mostly what I said is true. I live a boringly normal life.

Easy As Falling Off A Bike.
by Angharad,
part 192.

The young woman I took to be Stevie's sister led us into the lounge, where a man and woman in their late forties, were waiting. They were both standing as we entered the room.

"Mr and Mrs Naylor, I presume," said Tom, "I'm Professor Tom Agnew and my colleague Cathy Watts." We all shook hands. He was Andrew and she was Debbie.

They offered us tea or other drinks. Tom accepted tea so I decided to show solidarity, a real sacrifice as you know I never touch the stuff. Mandy, the daughter, went off to make it.

"So what brings Steve's Professor and personal tutor all the way to Bristol?" asked Andy Naylor.

"I think I'd better answer that." I took a deep breath and dived in. "We noticed Steve wasn't doing as well as he should have been doing with his previous tutor and Prof Agnew asked me to see him. I could see he had a problem although I wasn't sure what it was. But I got him to trust me and eventually he opened up to me."

"What sort of problem?" asked Debbie, she looked very concerned.

"It's a very personal thing. Steve has AIDS and I took him to hospital yesterday, he is quite ill with a possible tumour on his liver."

There was an almost palpable silence, where the only noise was Mandy in the kitchen and the fridge buzzing in the background somewhere.

"My Steve has AIDS?" asked Debbie, "Surely there is some mistake?"

"It would be wonderful if there was, but he's known for a couple of years." I tried to avoid the gay element although I knew it would happen eventually. In my mind the fact that he was so poorly was the important thing.

Andy looked at us in total horror but said nothing. He put his arm around his wife who was now crying.

Mandy came back into the room carrying the tray of tea, I stood up quickly to take it from her and laid it on the coffee table. "What's going on?" she asked her distraught parents.

"Steve's got AIDS according to these two," said Andy.

"What? No! No that can't be true, it's just flu," she threw herself on the floor next to her parents. "He can't have, he can't have," she called in rebuttal of the truth.

Tom looked at me and with lips pressed tightly together watched the distressed family. There was nothing we could do.

"Is he going to die?" asked Debbie getting some composure.

"I'm not a doctor, but he is very poorly." I offered.

"We should be on our way to see him," she replied, "my little boy."

"He asked me yesterday to come and tell you, the hospital did offer to phone you, but Steve said no. I could hardly refuse him, he looked quite ill."

"How long has he got?" asked Andy.

"I don't know." I shrugged. "I suppose it depends upon how serious the thing on his liver is."

"I thought only queers got AIDS," said Debbie.

"Anyone can get it from unprotected sex." Said Tom, reminding me he was still there for me.

"Is he queer?" Debbie said looking at me.

"I erm," I hesitated, "He told me he was gay, yes."

"Jesus Christ all bloody mighty!" shouted Andy. "You tell me my son is dying and then you have to tell me he's a fucking pansy."

"Irrespective of what his sexuality is, he is still your son and he is still a lovely human being."

"Oh shut up with your bloody platitudes, do you know what this means, do you know what people around here are going to think when they find out?"

"Is that more important than your son's love?" I asked. I was trying to keep my temper, I've been there got the scars and come through it. Stevie wasn't going to be able to fight for himself, but I could. All that was saving Andy from me stripping him layer by layer like an onion was the fact that he was in shock. But if he wanted to fight, I'd eat him alive.

Oh he was twice my size, but I had the secret weapon, I had survived attacks from arseholes like him and grown stronger. I had been exposed to the world and survived. I had been into the pit and climbed out. He was teetering on it's edge, I only had to nudge him and his prejudice would carry him down to its murky depths and maybe drown him there.

He stood up as if to challenge me and I saw Tom tense ready to intervene. But Andy checked himself. "My son a fucking queer," he groaned and dropped to his knees tears streaming down his face. "Why, why?"

"Where is he?" asked Debbie.

I handed her a slip of paper with the hospital address and telephone number. I suggested she ring before they went to make sure which ward he was on.

Mandy was looking at me. I knew she recognised me and sooner or later the penny would drop. What degree she would remember was anyone's guess. I hoped we would have left before then.

"I know you from somewhere," she said looking at me.

"You might have seen Cathy around the university or even the town when you came to see Steve," said Tom.

"No, it's not that."

"I used to live in Bristol," I said.

"Could be, but I dunno." She looked away thinking hard, her pretty face was red eyed and her make up was all streaked. "You were on the telly. You pulled that baby out of the burning car."

Now I really wanted to leave. I looked at my watch, we'd only been there half an hour. It felt like three lifetimes.

"You're gonna marry that Lord bloke, aren't ya?"

I nodded. I was just waiting for the final hammer blow to fall before I got ready to defend myself. It didn't happen. I almost held my breath in anticipation, I could feel the injection of adrenalin coursing through my body as I got ready for fight or flight. I was almost twitching with tension but nothing happened.

"Thank you for coming." Said Debbie anticlimactically.

"I'll see you out," said Mandy showing us to the door.

As we got to the door, she said quietly, "I knew Steve was gay, I just wouldn't believe it. You're very pretty for a boy."

"I'm not one any more." I said back a little defensively.

"I know, don't worry I won't tell them. Is Steve gonna die?"

"I think so," I said quietly and saw fresh tears run down her face.

"You were brave to come and tell us."

"Stevie asked me to come, I couldn't refuse him, he looked so sad."

"Thank you. Can I come and talk to you some day about all this?"

"If you want to, although I can't say I know too much about it."

"But you know a part of Steve I don't."

"I'm not sure I do. I only met him two weeks ago as his tutor and he confided in me. I got him to go to hospital and we went back again yesterday. They admitted him. He also told me he knew what was wrong and asked me to come and tell you."

"Oh, I wondered if you and him, sort of moved in..."

"No, I'm an ordinary woman who came to womanhood by a more tortuous path than you, but my world is as boring and mundane as yours. I'm not into any secret worlds except that of The Mammal Society and Portsmouth university cycling club." It was a slight fib, but I felt my cowardice wouldn't allow her to tar me with any brush, except that of normality. Okay, so I'm a hypocrite in some ways, although mostly what I said is true. I live a boringly normal life.

"Okay, I believe you, but I'd still like to talk to you some day."

"Okay Mandy, contact me via the university and I'll see what I can do."

"It was you with the hamster down your jumper?"

"Dormouse," I corrected her, "yes that was me and Spike."

She laughed, releasing her tension and I laughed too, then Tom put his hand on my shoulder and we walked back to the car.

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 193

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Sequel or Series Episode

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Other Keywords: 

  • Dormouse / Dormice / Dormeece

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

"I thought you were going to cook us all dinner before you went." There were times when I could cheerfully thump Simon, this was one such.

"No way, I have to save my energy for Des." I smirked back at him, the look on his face was probably more satisfying than a slap.

Stella giggled then said, "I hope you have your sexiest lingerie."

Easy As Falling Off A Bike.
by: Angharad.
part:193.

Tom and I went back to my car and drove out of the road, Simon and Stella followed us in his car. We went back to my father's house, where I made us all a good cup of tea. Tom reported on our meeting with Stevie's parents.

Simon felt angry, "How dare he criticise his son like that, the poor bugger is almost breathing his last and all his dad is concerned about, is what the neighbours think. What an arsehole!"

"There are plenty of people like it Si," said Stella picking up a chocolate hobnob. "These biscuits are my favourite, Cathy."

I winked back at her, they were amongst mine as well, but the rate at which she was eating them meant I might not get a look in this time.

"We did what Stevie asked me to do. I hope I did it gently. I didn't want to fight it out with Mr Naylor because there could be no winners. He can only win if he learns to see beyond his prejudice, as my father is trying to do now, but only because life has forced him to. Prejudice ultimately destroys those who hold it."

"You did okay Cathy," said Tom squeezing my shoulder. "It's never easy to tell a parent something like that, especially a double whammy."

"That is a horrible expression, Tom." I groaned at my esteemed colleague and mentor.

He looked at me and chuckled.

"I do hope they get to see him before he becomes any sicker." I thought this was the most important thing.

"Yeah, but dear old dad arriving and performing could make him worse." Simon was still angry, maybe because in being a man himself, he felt Andy Naylor was letting the side down by acting like a primitive.

"Don't worry, the ward won't let him perform and I suspect the boy's mother won't either. She won't want her last hours with him to be remembered for infighting between Steve and his dad." Stella seemed to have a very moot point.

"But by then the damage is done Stel, the boy will be stressed and his immune system will worsen, not to mention his desire to live." Simon also made a valid point.

Simon then looked at me, "Right my beautiful, angelic messenger, what are you going to do?"

"I'm going to see my dad and have a chat with Des. Then travel back down tomorrow and hopefully will pop in to see Stevie sometime tomorrow."

"Won't the family be there then?" asked Simon.

"I don't honestly know, why?"

"Well apart from the numbers around the bed, won't it risk your own position in terms of being detected or them remembering where they saw you?"

"The daughter, Mandy, did remember."

"Well she might blab."

"She said not."

"You don't believe her do you?"

"Simon, just because her father is an arsehole doesn't mean she is. He is still a student of mine and we never did finish the tutorial."

"I find your adherence to duty commendable if unfeasible," smiled Tom.

I looked at the time, do you need me for anything, because I'm going to change and pop and see my dad.

"I thought you were going to cook us all dinner before you went." There were times when I could cheerfully thump Simon, this was one such.

"No way, I have to save my energy for Des." I smirked back at him, the look on his face was probably more satisfying than a slap.

Stella giggled then said, "I hope you have your sexiest lingerie."

"Gonna put it on as soon as you're gone." I replied and she giggled even more.

"Am I to be cuckolded by my good friend?" Simon stared at the floor.

"Only if he's a very lucky boy." Stella was really getting back to normal.

'More than lucky!' I thought to myself, recalling the stupid car insurance advert and the dog called Lucky.

I went up and changed into jeans and a top to go and see my father, the others took the hint and set off for their return to Portsmouth. I was sad to see them go, the house seemed very lonely without them. Someone had washed up the cups, for which I was grateful.

Daddy was really pleased to see me, he'd seen stuff on the news including my interview on the news. He'd also kept one or two press cuttings for me. The one in the Daily Mail surprised me by not denigrating my marriage to Simon, playing instead upon my recent exploits with burning cars, bag snatchers and jumping, incontinent dormice.

The Torygraph wasn't so pleased, suggesting that as I couldn't produce an heir, there should be some law preventing it. It surprised me, I know it represents rather conservative views, but it seemed to excel itself in the stupidity stakes this time. I was pleased to see a letter criticising the editorial in the next edition. I decided they wouldn't get an interview, except to talk about dormice or other British mammals.

Daddy ate up his soup with gusto, I had to buy some bread on the way in, I'd also bought some cheese and bread for later, wondering if Des would bring more wine. The forecast for the next day wasn't too bad, so a ride might be possible. Better to wait and see.

I reminded Daddy that although I'd be up to see him over Christmas, I was going to hospital on New Year's Day. He nodded his understanding.
I also realised I had loads of shopping to do for presents and food. Oh boy, life is a pain at times.

I excused myself and drove back home and changed into something a bit more interesting for Des' visit. Just because I wouldn't or couldn't have sex with him, didn't mean I couldn't flirt with him. At least that was what I told myself as I adjusted my push up bra.

XS XS XS XS XS XS XS XS XS XS XS XS XS XS XS XS XS XS XS XS XS XS XS

Do you agree with some users of this site, that this story is about 189 episodes too far? Please leave comments.

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 194

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Sequel or Series Episode

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Other Keywords: 

  • flirting
  • kissing
  • cycle clothes

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

We chatted some more, he told me stories about when he was at school with Simon and Stella, she was a bit later and they didn't have much contact, but she nearly got herself expelled when she was found out to have put glue in the gymshoes of her PE teacher, with whom she'd had an argument. The poor woman couldn't get them off for a week.

Easy As Falling Off A Bike.
by Angharad,
part:194

I stood in front of my mother's dressing table mirror and gazed at my body. In the tight black lace knickers, nothing could be seen of my dangly bits. My hips looked a reasonable shape and my slim waist was in good shape too. Above it stood my breasts, perky and exaggerated by the matching black booster bra.

A black lacy suspender belt completed the set, but I opted to leave that off, after all no one but me was going to see it and my stay up stockings were more comfortable, at least for a few hours. After that the rubbery stuff that gripped the skin made me itchy and brought up a red weal. Some of my cycle shorts had similar rubbery strips on the hems of the legs, wearing them for any length of time had a similar outcome.

So there I was dressed like a courtesan in sexy undies and high heeled black shoes, feeling pleased with myself. My makeup and hair looked good too. I slipped the slinky dress with its wrapover top carefully over my head so as not to disturb my hair, then tied the back ties into a loose knot behind me, pulling the material taut around my toned waist.

My jewellery was the necklace and earrings my father had given me from the modest collection my mother had owned. I wasn't sure that it was appropriate to wear it while flirting with anyone other than Simon. Mum would not have approved of my behaviour, although I think she would have liked the dress.

It had a large paisley design in white on a black background, with the odd bit highlighted in silver, so it caught the light. It fitted like a glove and was comfortable to wear, it also washed easily and I was doubly pleased when I bought it for half price.

My pink painted nails shone in the light from the main lamp in the room as I clasped first my watch to my left wrist and then my silver bracelet to my right wrist. A couple of squirts of Coco and I was ready for my visitor.

It was about ten minutes to eight, I stood in the kitchen and made up a tray of bread and cheeses, with pickle and assorted salad stuff. I nearly died when there was a knock at the kitchen door.

"It's me Des," he called through the glass. He'd ridden his bike again and wanted it hidden from view.

"You frightened the life out of me," I said as I let him in.

He sniggered putting down his helmet and gloves, and continued doing so while he removed his shoes and jacket.

I watched him as he undressed and my body kept telling me it wanted him. I felt myself blushing and I returned to my salad. When I sneaked another look at his body, well through his cycling shirt, I saw he was standing grinning holding a bottle of Rioja. I smiled and handed him the corkscrew.

I heard the pop of the cork and placed the glasses on the tray. For some reason my mother always kept her wine glasses in the sideboard in the lounge. I had just removed two and placed them on the tray on the Parker Knoll coffee table.

Des swaggered in, handing me the bottle of wine and a box of chocolates. Damn, now I had to thank him. I accepted the gifts and pecked him on the cheek. With both my hands full, I couldn't prevent him from gently gripping my face in his hands and kissing me on the lips.

I pulled away gasping and blushing. He just laughed.

"You look lovely when you're angry," he said chuckling at my discomfort. The bastard knew I fancied him and also that I wouldn't allow myself to do anything about it, except flirt.

My body now richer in testosterone than it had been for a year or so was randy as hell. I felt something twitch in my groin but my panties held it safe. In two weeks things would be different down there, but for now they had to stay hidden and disguised.

He complimented me on my appearance, adding, "I hope you look as good in cycling togs, because we're riding tomorrow morning."

"Oh are we?" I said blushing with excitement and irritation. No body tells me what to do unless I let them, and I had just let him take the initiative.

"So why did you want to see me, other than to torment me with your luscious body?" he asked, settling down with a glass of the Spanish red wine.

"I wanted to ask for your help." I said blushing.

"What again?" he pretended to affect indignation.

"Yes again."

"Okay, what do you want?"

"In a couple of weeks I'm going to be tied up for a few weeks and won't be able to see my dad. I wondered if you could pop in to Southmead once or twice with a bottle of Scotch for him. He doesn't get too many visitors. If you're okay with it, then I'll introduce you before my admiss..., erm my indisposition." I blushed furiously.

"You're going into hospital?"

"Erm," blushing still redder, I took a sip of wine, which made me even hotter. "Erm, yes."

"Nothing serious I hope?"

"It is to me."

"Oh, the um," he whistled and made a scissors action with his fingers.

He knew, what the hell! I nodded.

"Good luck, if ever you need to test drive it, give me a shout." He winked and if it wasn't for the risk of staining the leather suite with wine, I'd have thrown a cushion at him.

"Okay," he said.

"Okay what?" I asked puzzled.

"Okay, I'll go and see your dad."

"Oh thanks. There was something else."

I explained about my ordeal earlier with Stevie's family. He looked angry.

"I was in college with a guy who got AIDS, it was awful. We were learning the art of documentary film making and he made one about dying from AIDS. It was a beautiful piece of work. He lived long enough to get his degree and an award for the best biographical film and best promising newcomer, but not long enough to see it shown on Channel four."

"How long ago was that?"

"Oh maybe five years ago. I have a copy on DVD, I'll copy it for you."

"Thanks."

"I get the impression that there's a shopping list."

"The Portsmouth Echo wants to do an interview with me. I don't know whether or not to do it."

"Do it, it's better to have them like you than dislike you. You can set up some parameters for your cooperation."

"What do you mean?"

"Like we did with the BBC, 'I won't talk about this or that, or if it's too personal or intrusive, I will refuse to answer. If it continues, I walk.' You need to assert some editorial authority or they'll do what they want."

"I don't know if I can, I get so nervous."

"You want me to set it up do you?"

"Well you are rather good at it," I batted my eyelashes at him.

"It's going to cost you."

"What, like an agent's fee?"

"No nothing as crude as money."

I wondered what he was talking about, then suddenly thought and blushed once more.

"I don't know...." I blushed even deeper and felt an embarrassed excitement. What was it with this guy that I couldn't get out of my head? I truly loved Simon and found him desirable too, but Des was something else and I didn't understand what it was.

"I'm an engaged wom..., well engaged anyway."

He seemed to enjoy my embarrassed confusion, grinning at me like a Cheshire cat.

"You're a woman alright Cathy, I wouldn't have a bulge like this in my pants for a boy, that's for sure."

I blushed redder still, if I got any hotter I had visions of my polyester/viscose knickers and bra, melting. A little rivulet of sweat ran down my back making me shiver involuntarily. He was loving every moment of this.

"You're a bastard Des."

"It's taken you a long time to work that out," he grinned.

I huffed as my response.

He tore off a piece of French stick and cut a triangle of cheese. I grabbed a stick of celery and began licking it before biting it savagely. Then blushed at what I was doing, geez, sending out strong signals that I can't fulfil, all the while the strength of the gusset of my knickers was being tested.

The rest of the supper was equally symbolic, although I found myself trying not to up the ante, tempting though it was. I suspect if anyone had been watching us, they'd have thought we were either in some corny comedy sketch of a poorly made French sex film.

I found my second glass of wine made me feel mellow and I began to relax rather than feel sexed up. I knew it would also make me less inhibited, but in the end as nothing happened, I suspect Des was teasing me as much as I was him.

"So what time are we riding tomorrow?" he asked.

"Who said I was riding at all?" I asked.

"I did, and you said you'd bring your bike. Did you?"

"Did I what?"

"Strewth Cathy, don't you listen? Did you bring your bike with you?"

"When?"

"Don't piss me about girl," his face changed a little, time to stop teasing.

"What did you have in mind?"

"An hour or two's ride, why?"

"On our own?"

"Yeah, as far as I know. I can try and see what the club is doing."

"No thanks, I usually have time keeping up with slugs and snails."

"Okay, we are not racing just a nice ride and a chat, get a coffee somewhere."

"Okay. I have to warn you, I haven't ridden much for a while, so you'll have to be easy on me."

"Course I will."

We chatted some more, he told me stories about when he was at school with Simon and Stella, she was a bit later and they didn't have much contact, but she nearly got herself expelled when she was found out to have put glue in the gymshoes of her PE teacher, with whom she'd had an argument. The poor woman couldn't get them off for a week.

He went to the back door and dressed in all but his helmet, then he grabbed me suddenly and kissed me hard, forcing his tongue into my not too unwilling mouth. Then having taken my breath away, he grabbed his helmet and left.

"Bastard!" I said loudly, savouring his kiss.

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 195

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Sequel or Series Episode

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Other Keywords: 

  • cycling
  • flirting
  • Sex / Sexual Themes

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

Without looking back, I was squirting WD40 down inside my cable covers, I said, "Hi Des." I continued bent over my bike.

"The view from here is terrific."

"Ha bloody ha. Does my bum look big in this then?" I jibed back, still playing with my gear and brake cables.

"No it looks absolutely perfect."

I felt myself blushing, then I squeaked and jumped dropping the can when he touched my bottom. "Just what are you doing?" I snapped.

Easy As Falling Off A Bike
by Angharad
part 195.

I went to bed with my head buzzing and a certain moistness in my panties. Why did Des turn me on so much? It was ridiculous. I had a lovely man already, who doted on me and of whom I was very fond. In fact I think I can safely say, I loved. Yet this ne'er do well comes along and sweeps me off my feet and leaves my heart racing like a geiger counter at Sellafield.*

I tried to go to sleep but all I could see was a certain face and I could still taste his kiss.

He was coming by at nine and it was nearly two already. I got my MP3 player and finally managed to get to sleep with the help of some music.

I awoke at eight and after washing and breakfasting got myself organised for my ride. I wore the imitation GB strip, it was the only one I'd brought. I just hoped I could keep up with my wouldbe lycra lover.

I got my Scott out of the garage and checked the tyres and brakes, put a small amount of lube on the chain and everything seemed in working mode, except perhaps the rider.

My modest mammaries were extremely noticeable in my racing skins. I had taped a certain appendage so it wouldn't be seen at the same time would be comfortable to sit on a racing saddle, which is smaller and narrower than a touring or MTB saddle. The weather was actually very mild and fine, a strange combination for middle December, but who was complaining.

Des arrived as I was wiping off my chain. The ideal in lubrication is as little as possible, but with the proviso it is enough. It can take practice and a few chain sets. I have heard commuters squeaking along on gears and chains that were crying out for oil and they don't oil them. I have also heard of more serious riders who get through a chain set a year and a can of lube about every ten years.

It reminds me of an advert I saw when I was a kid. It was displayed at the garage my dad used to use. It was very simple, 'We sell replacement engines for people who don't change their oil.'

"Hello gorgeous, oh wow! Been picked for the national team have we? I surrender now."

Without looking back, I was squirting WD40 down inside my cable covers, I said, "Hi Des." I continued bent over my bike.

"The view from here is terrific."

"Ha bloody ha. Does my bum look big in this then?" I jibed back, still playing with my gear and brake cables.

"No it looks absolutely perfect."

I felt myself blushing, then I squeaked and jumped dropping the can when he touched my bottom. "Just what are you doing?" I snapped.

He smiled in an embarrassed way, and I thought it served him right. "No VPL then?" he said.

"What?" I gasped.

"VPL you know, visible pa...."

"I know what it means. Of course there isn't, you're supposed to go commando."

"Oh are you?"

I turned and gave him an old fashioned look, "You know damn well they are supposed to be worn with no underpants, so if this was just a ruse to stroke my bum..."

"You'll what?"

"I shall think you are a dirty old man." I huffed and folded my arms.

"That looks like a useful bit of kit," he said looking at my bike and conveniently changing the subject.

"I think so."

"So you're gonna kick my butt are you?"

"Des, you are half as big as me again, I somehow don't think I have much chance against you, were we racing, not to mention that oestrogens break down muscle mass."

"Well you have two very nice muscles from where I'm standing."

I groaned, "Don't you ever think of anything else?"

"I do when I'm working, but this is play time."

"Yeah, and you should be in a school yard." I turned and placed my drink bottles in their racks, then shut up the house and garage. It was twenty past nine before we got to start our ride.

We rode up onto the downs and over the Clifton Suspension bridge, a C19th bridge built by Brunel over the Avon gorge, a fitting tribute to a master engineer. The ride went very well, we did do some sparring and he was certainly the stronger sprinter by some margin, but my smaller bodyweight helped me match him on the climbs. I reckoned if I'd managed to get back to the level I was at a few months earlier, I'd have have given him more competition, but effectively, he was riding more and in better shape.

We got back two hours later and had covered nearly forty miles, not bad given that some of it was quite lumpy. I half expected that he'd come back to my father's house again, but he rode off at the end of the road saying he had a meeting he needed to plan for.

So I rode the last hundred or so yards to the house by myself. I felt relieved and at the same time disappointed. As I put my bike away, I recalled his playful touches to my bottom and realised that it was all just flirting.

I hoped it was because he found me attractive, and restrained because he respected me and also his friendship with Simon. What would I have done if he had come on more strongly, I didn't know. Thinking about it made my heart race in a very pleasant way and for some twitches to occur quite a bit lower. At the same time I was relieved that my fidelity wasn't really questioned. I felt myself blushing. Would I have let both myself and Simon down by indulging in a fling? I didn't really know.

The phone was ringing as I got in, it was Simon. "Where have you been, I've been calling for a good hour?"

"I was out for a bike ride."

"What on your own?"

"No with Des." I felt myself blush and he went quiet for a moment.

"Oh, have a good time?"

"Yeah, it was a good ride when I could keep up with him, he is so powerful, thrusting away. I did try to match him in rhythm."

"What sort of ride are we, erm, talking about?"

"Bikes, what did you think I meant?"

"Oh that's alright then."

"What is?" I decided that he needed a wind up as it would guarantee his attention when I got home."

"Erm, nothing. You going to see your father?"

"Yeah, on the way home. Feel a bit pooped now, Des was so demanding last night." I nearly sniggered and gave it away.

"What do you mean?"

"Like last night, he is an animal, so full of energy. Think it must be all that cycling he does."

"What did you do last night?"

"You know, look I have to go, need a shower, see you later. Kiss Kiss."

He was shouting,"Cathy," as I put the phone down. I trotted up the stairs with my knees and thighs knowing they'd had some exercise, but my chuckling was because Simon's curiosity had also had some exercise.

*Sellafield - a nuclear complex which houses a power station and fuel reprocessing centre. A near by site was also the scene of the most serious nuclear accident in the UK (Seascale).

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 196

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Sequel or Series Episode

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Other Keywords: 

  • Fake Welsh Accents
  • kamikaze jerbils
  • Dormouse / Dormice / Dormeece

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

"You're a very nice lady, Lady Catherine. It suits you like the expensive clothes you wear."

"I bought this lot in Marks & Sparks*," I said indicating the jeans and top under the coat. "I'm just an ordinary girl at heart."

Easy As Falling Off A Bike
by Angharad,
part 196.

I visited my father and took him the soup I had hurriedly made, he seemed to enjoy it, and there would be enough for the next day. The journey back down to Portsmouth wasn't too bad either. I had taken my bike back with me, just in case I had a chance to ride it, although it looked pretty remote.

I popped in to see Stevie but he was sleeping. I left some fruit and magazines for him with the nurse. As I was leaving I bumped into his sister.

"Lady Catherine," she said and I didn't know if she was being genuine or taking the piss.

"I'm not yet, it's just plain Cathy."

"Oh, sorry. I thought you were engaged."

"I am, but titles only transfer on marriage. Actually I think it's a load of old tosh, but it may help with restaurant bookings."

She laughed.

"How is he?"

"Very poorly."

"Has your dad been to see him?"

"Yes, they held each other and cried."

"And your mum?"

"She's gone for a coffee while he sleeps. Dad had to go home for work tomorrow, Mum and me are staying down here for a few days."

"I'm glad Stevie and his dad were able to make up some ground."

"Yeah, look can we talk?"

I looked at my watch, I didn't really have time but I didn't feel like seeming rude to a youngster. "Can I make a quick phone call?"

She nodded and I called Simon. "I'm at the hospital, just seeing Stevie, won't be long."

"Okay, see you later?"

"Want me to bring anything in with me?"

"Des's balls on a plate."

"Boiled or baked?"

"Don't care."

"See you later."

We walked out of the ward and strolled around the hospital grounds.

"I still can't believe you used to be a boy," started Mandy.

"I'm sure you haven't brought me all out here to say that."

"No, but I was complimenting you for being so, like female."

"Thank you, now what did you want to talk about?"

"My boyfriend likes to borrow my clothes," she said and even in the evening twilight I could see her blushing.

"How can I help with that?"

"Well is he que..I mean gay?"

"I don't know, I presume not if he is going out with you."

"We don't have sex or anything, but he likes to wear my underwear."

"Does he wear it or just take it home to fantasise over while he erm.. releases his tensions."

"No he puts it on."

"He might be a number of things, fetishist, transvestite, or he may be just exploring his relationship with you. What is important is how you feel about it and how much you like or love him."

"Yeah, I suppose so. If I could arrange it, would you talk with him?"

"About what Mandy? There are loads of people better qualified than I am to deal with psychosexual issues. I'm a biologist not a psychologist."

"But if he is transvestite, you'd know what is was like wouldn't you?"

"Not really, I have seen myself as female since I discovered there was a difference between girls and boys, so I didn't cross dress, I felt skirts and things were my natural wear."

"What if he's the same?"

"He needs to talk to an expert not me. I'm sorry Mandy, I have enough of my own issues to deal with, I don't actually need somone else's. Besides, it has to be his idea to see someone, not just for your benefit, because it'll be his records any such stuff will be written on, not your's."

"Yeah I understand."

"Look, I'm not trying to be unhelpful, I just don't think I'm the right person for him to speak to. The problem is, if he is transgendered, whatever that means exactly, and he meets me, it might encourage him to do something he wouldn't have thought about before. I have seen it happen."

"What like want a sex change 'cos he saw someone else who'd had one?"

"Exactly that."

"Yeah, maybe you are the worst person for him to see then."

"Maybe I am, I have to go Mandy. I'll try and pop by tomorrow and see Stevie."

"Why do you call him Stevie?"

"That's what he wanted me to call him."

"Oh! I always call him Steve."

"I'm sure he's fine with that."

"Yeah, course he is." She paused for a moment then said, "He's going to die, isn't he?"

"Yes, he is. He is very poorly."

"Thank you for helping him and us."

"I only did what he asked me to do. I could hardly refuse a dying wish, could I?"

"You're a very nice lady, Lady Catherine. It suits you like the expensive clothes you wear."

"I bought this lot in Marks & Sparks*," I said indicating the jeans and top under the coat. "I'm just an ordinary girl at heart."

She threw her arms around me and hugged me. "Come and see Steve again, he still needs you."

"I'll do my best."

She went back to the ward and I went to my car. I checked the bike was still inside the car under my other luggage. If Simon was looking to buy me a nice Christmas present, a hard bike bag would be good, except I didn't like the idea of him spending hundreds of pounds on me.

I arrived home with a take away, an Indian. I didn't want any, I don't like spicy food, but Tom's eyes lit up when he smelt it. The others ate it while I did myself a boiled egg. I was tired.

"So what is this between you and Des?" Simon stood in the kitchen while I washed up.

"There is only one thing between Des and myself, and that is my love for you. Now I am sorry I wound you up, but sometimes you ask for it, and you did introduce us."

"Not really, he saw you at the press conference, the one with the kamikaze jerbil."

"Dormouse, you've been talking to Tom far too much."

"One pest is much like another."

"You are not going to wind me up just because I got you earlier. I am not Stella, I don't really enjoy these silly games."

"How about we just go to bed and do what the Welsh do?"

"What play rugby or sing?"

"We can if you like, but I was thinking of having what they call a 'cooch.'"

"I've heard that expression before, especially around Cardiff."

"It means a cuddle, I believe. Cooch b'there like, look you," he sounded like a cross between Max Boyce and Fluellen from Henry V, with a preposterous Welsh accent.

"Aye alright like," I said in my best (Bristol) Welsh accent, and we went off to bed together.

*Marks & Sparks = Marks & Spencer a very large chain of shops in the UK also in some other European countries.

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 197

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Sequel or Series Episode

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

He'd said he was okay with it, knowing that I was off the hormones and also that it wasn't stuck out the way. I could have quite happily cut it off there and then and had done with it. It had never been any use to me, I couldn't even win peeing contests when I was a kid, all the other boys seemed able to pee further or higher up a wall than I could.

Easy As Falling Off A Bike
by Angharad
part 197.

I went to bed with the best of intentions, then undressing reminded me of my imperfection, and I lay with my back towards Simon.

"Gone off me have you?"

"No, I'm just content to cuddle with you," I pulled his hand around to my breast and he gently rubbed my nipple with his thumb.

"Prefer Des do you?"

I rolled over, "Don't be silly. Des and I went for a bike ride, that was all. You're the one I go to bed with. Doesn't that tell you something?"

I was fuming but at the same time recognised I'd brought some of it on myself. I'd hoped he'd understood I was just teasing him. If he did he was teasing me back or punishing me. I felt the tears forming in my eyes. I did not want to cry and show my weakness.

"So why are you turning your back on me? That to me signifies you'd rather not be here."

"Simon, don't be so paranoid. I enjoy spooning with you, it's really nice."

"But I can't kiss you like that."

I sighed and lay on my back hoping that something would remain behaved. He kissed me and of course it excited me, so you know what happened next.

He didn't notice for a bit, but he put his hand down towards my crotch and pulled it back as if he'd pressed it on a sharp spike or even some fresh dog poo.

It wasn't just his hand that pulled away, so did the rest of him. I knew exactly what had happened. He sat on the edge of the bed. I lay on my back crying silently. In sixteen more days it would be gone, they couldn't come fast enough.

I rolled onto my side again and cried myself to sleep. I don't know what Simon did, I didn't feel him get up from the side of the bed, so I assume he sat there until he got fed up or cold.

I woke once during the night and he was lying with his back towards me, that hurt too, and I cried some more. I began to wonder if my life had peaked early and that my relationship was in decline.

He'd said he was okay with it, knowing that I was off the hormones and also that it wasn't stuck out the way. I could have quite happily cut it off there and then and had done with it. It had never been any use to me, I couldn't even win peeing contests when I was a kid, all the other boys seemed able to pee further or higher up a wall than I could.

Normally, I'd have cuddled into Simon's back, but with things as they were, I didn't dare. If I woke up with a woody, it could seriously threaten our relationship.

I got out of bed and taking the case I used in Bristol, went into the bathroom. I pulled out the sticking plaster I had used when I went for the bike ride. I cut two long strips and taped it around my appendage and back through to my buttocks, pulling the dangly bits back through my legs. It wasn't very comfortable, but with Micropore, a very thin paper tape, it was unnoticeable through anything save the skimpiest of material. I limped back to the bed and after warming up, cuddled into Simon's back.

I woke up with his hand stretched behind him around my buttock, something tied back between my legs was straining but it was holding. It hurt like no one's business, but it kept me flat in front.

I held him around the waist and kissed him on the shoulder. Then my hand began to descend lower towards his groin. He suddenly grabbed my hand and pushed it away. I got the message and rolled over onto my other side. I cried silently, but he must have felt the bed moving with my sobs. He knew what was happening. I began to feel that it was all over.

He got up and went to shower. I took his ring off my finger and laid it on his clean underpants, I threw on some jeans and a jumper and grabbing my shoes, I ran off to hide.

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 198

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Sequel or Series Episode

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Other Keywords: 

  • Cold
  • hypothermia
  • getting lost.
  • Dormouse / Dormice / Dormeece

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

I don't know how long I staggered around the field, the rain still sheeting down, I was soaked right through and very cold as the icy wind whipped around me. Eventually I found the gate and got through it. I was shivering violently.

I tried to run to warm up, but my clothes were heavy with water and the ground was slippery with mud. I fell and fell again trying to get up. Where the hell was I?

Easy As Falling Off A Bike
by Angharad
part 198.

I dressed in the main bathroom and ran down the stairs, my eyes blurred with tears made the journey a little more precarious than usual. Then I was out the door, pulling on my coat as I went, making sure my key was in my bag.

From there I simply walked and cried. My phone rang a couple of times but I ignored it. It would only be bad news. If I could have relived the previous twenty four hours, there were several things I would have done differently. It was too late now.

I had destroyed the future, my future, my happiness. I really questioned whether I wanted to live any more. It struck me as ironic that Stevie wanted to live and was dying, and I felt like dying but would live. If there is a God, he's a bastard!

I hoped Simon had found the ring for several reasons, one being he would understand the messages he'd given me, another, the fact that I didn't want it lost, it was far too beautiful. I suddenly missed my mother, she could have advised me or at least comforted me. Effectively, I had no one.

I would have liked to explain to Simon but it was too late for that, he had rejected me. I had no intention of giving him a second chance to humiliate me. It was sad but I had my pride too. I was doubly sad that I would lose Stella as a sister in law, but that was the way these things happened.

I trudged along in my misery running all sorts of scenarios in my mind. In one I could see Simon talking with his friends at some time in the future, where he related his escape from nearly marrying a boy.

I had to stop at one point, I got so upset that I couldn't even walk. I wanted to fall down and cry hysterically, but I knew it would do me no good. If only I could go back a day or even twelve hours.

I was walking across fields and hadn't noticed how wet my feet and legs were from the grass and weeds. I wanted to go to a place where no one would disturb me or my misery, preferably ever again.

I was finished with men, they just hurt me. I couldn't go through any of this again. From now on, I would never let anyone close to me ever again.

In the middle of a field, in the middle of nowhere, I found a large stone to sit on and screamed and sobbed for probably an hour. When I'd finished my throat was sore and so were my eyes. I was soaking wet, it was raining and I hadn't noticed. Worse than that, I had no idea where I was.

The rain was becoming heavier and I was now getting cold as well as wet. I already felt numb emotionally, now I was beginning to feel it physically too. I was also beginning to fret about where I was. Can people die from hypothermia walking in the countryside.

The rain intensified and I couldn't see much nor hear any traffic, only the rain, lashing into the ground and my hood and face. Was this how my story would end, like it began in a rain storm? I did wonder. In a way it felt complete that it should end like this, I'd gone full circle found acceptance, love and happiness. Then like a fool, lost one after the other like dominoes. Dying seemed a natural conclusion to my fuck up. It was what I deserved. God I felt cold. I started to shiver.

In the poor visibility, I couldn't work out which way I'd come. I couldn't really see the edges of the field and for all I knew I was wandering around in circles. I began to get frightened. Silly isn't it? Here I am half thinking about killling myself and I feel frightened because I'm lost. If I was telling a story, it's so preposterous that no one would believe me, except maybe a psychiatrist. It would also be ironic if I got pneumonia and died instead of having the surgery.

No I needed to stay fit and well, I had to complete on this, to get my body changed. If I died afterwards, it wouldn't matter, but I had to die a woman, not a man or all my suffering for so many years would be in vain. I started crying because now I felt frightened that I had messed that up too.

I don't know how long I staggered around the field, the rain still sheeting down, I was soaked right through and very cold as the icy wind whipped around me. Eventually I found the gate and got through it. I was shivering violently.

I tried to run to warm up, but my clothes were heavy with water and the ground was slippery with mud. I fell and fell again trying to get up. Where the hell was I?

I sheltered under a holly tree, it didn't afford much respite, but I could call for help. I pulled my mobile out of my bag, somehow the rain had got into it and it wouldn't work. I felt like throwing it away in disgust. My purse was wet so was everything else in my bag, it was raining that hard.

I had to keep moving, I was feeling sick with the cold and my shivering was getting worse. I really was heading for hypothermia. Not being sure of where I was going, I had to try and avoid retracing my most recent steps, although I didn't know if I was heading towards or away from Tom's house.

The rain started to ease off but I was feeling befuddled and sleepy. I knew I mustn't go to sleep, keep walking, I told myself. I fell again and it was so hard to get up again in the mud. I was filthy now as well as cold, wet and hungry. Abject didn't even begin to describe how I felt. My skin was beginning to sting with the cold and my hands were numb as were my feet.

I spotted a farm house and walked towards it. A dog barked at me but I didn't care, there may be people or a phone I could use to call help. I got to the door and banged on it. It opened just as I collapsed.

In the distance I heard voices, "Don't touch her, she may be on drugs or drink."

"Get the police."

"Looks like an ambulance may be more use."

"Quick help her up, she's cold."

To cut a long story short, they pulled off my top clothes and wrapped me in a blanket, I have a vague recollection of that. I also felt the hot-waterbottle, it was burning but beautifully so. I was shoved alongside a roaring log fire, and a woman held out a cup of hot sweet tea. I sipped it from her hands, my own were still shaking. I couldn't speak but she seemed to understand.

"Can you understand me?" she asked.

I managed to nod a yes.

"I'm going to try and get you warm enough to stop shaking, then take you up for a bath in warm water."

I nodded again.

"Then you can tell me what you were doing out in the rain, okay?"

I nodded again.

I did start to warm up. She came and checked on me every half an hour.

"Thank you," I said the shivering was gone.

"Oh good you can talk, what's your name?"

"Cathy."

"Okay Cathy, come with me up to the bathroom. I've shoved your clothes in the washing machine, to get the worst of the mud out of them."

In the bathroom I managed to convince her a shower would be sufficient and she provided me with towels and shampoo. She was quite a bit larger than me so she suggested she loan me some of her son's clothes as he was nearer my size.

If my phone had been working I could have called Stella to bring me some. But it wasn't and I couldn't remember her number or that of Tom's house. I felt extremely foolish to say the least.

The shower was bliss and I scrubbed myself from head to foot, the water eventually running clear of the mud. Then I shampooed my hair and rinsed it. At last my body and mind were starting to work again.

I wrapped up in the towel and worked another into a turban around my hair. The woman knocked on the door and handed me the clothes. A pair of jeans and polo shirt, with some Y fronts and socks.

Nothing fitted, it was all too small. She took it all back and came back with a nightdress and dressing gown. They were big but wearable.

We went down stairs and she made some more tea, this time I asked for no sugar.

"Okay Cathy, now what were you doing wandering in our fields in a storm?"

I told her about breaking up with my fiance and just running about in my distress. I also told her where I was staying.

"That's five miles from here," she said in near astonishment.

"I had no idea where I was," I confessed, "but I think I owe you my life."

"It was nothing," she said blushing, "just a nice distraction from the hoo ha of Christmas."

"Could I borrow your phone and I hope I can get a friend to collect me. I may need to make a couple of calls to get the number."

"Of course you can, it's through here."

I looked up the number for the university, my brain was beginning to work again.

"Professor Agnew's Office."

"Hi Pippa, it's Cathy."

"Oh thank God you're safe, Prof Agnew was worried sick."

"I need to get hold of Stella, can you give me Tom's home number?"

She did but then put me through to Tom, I didn't really need a fatherly lecture, but I knew I was going to get one anyway. I wasn't disappointed. He told me that Simon was beside himself with worry and Stella was anxious for me too. I told him that I was going to call Stella to come and get me. He agreed it was a good idea.

I phoned Tom's house and spoke to Stella.

"Oh my God, you are alright?"

"Yes, I got very wet and cold, can you come and get me?"

"Course I can."

"Can you bring me a complete set of clothes and shoes?"

"Yeah, I'll go and pack some up for you."

I explained where I was, the farmer's wife, Anne Smith, had given me directions to the farm. Then I had to sit and wait.

I thanked Mrs Smith for her help and offered her some soggy money for recompense. She refused and so I didn't push the issue.

It was probably half an hour later when the dog barked again and she went to the door. I had managed to dry and comb my hair into some semblance of order. I stood waiting for Stella to come into the room with my clothes.

The door opened and in walked Simon, carrying an overnight bag.

"What are you doing here?" I gasped.

"I could ask you the same question," he replied and I felt myself blush.

He handed me the bag and I asked Anne if I could use her bathroom again. Ten minutes later I was back down, dressed in skirt and top, my red boots and cardigan. It felt good to be back in my own clothes. I placed the bag of still damp stuff that had been washed for me.

Simon handed me my coat, and took my bag out to the car, then he returned with a small case of wine and handed it to Mrs Smith.

She tried to refuse it but he just plonked it on the table. She thanked him but was obviously embarrassed at the same time.

I hugged her and thanked her for her help.

"Goodness you look so different to when you knocked on the door," she said, then she looked at me again. "I know you, it's Lady Catherine isn't it?"

I was about to say no, because I thought that had long since faded, but Simon interrupted. "Yes Mrs Smith, that's her, Queen of the dormice."

"I saw you on the telly, the dormouse went down your jumper, now I remember." She laughed and I blushed and nodded.

Back in the car and heading to Tom's I took issue with Simon for the dormouse story.

"Would you have preferred I told her, yes she was on telly talking about her sex change?"

"No, I s'pose not," I said and looked down at my feet.

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 199

Author: 

  • Angharad

Audience Rating: 

  • Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication: 

  • Sequel or Series Episode

Genre: 

  • Transitioning

Character Age: 

  • College / Twenties

TG Themes: 

  • Romantic

TG Elements: 

  • Estrogen / Hormones

Permission: 

  • Posted by author(s)

"Clearly we have some problems with the past. What about the future? How does Cathy see her future?" Stella tried to assert some control over the proceedings. "Do you still want to marry Simon?"

"I don't know?"

"Do you still want to marry Cathy?"

"Not if she's going to act like...."

Easy As Falling Off A Bike.
by Angharad,
part 199.

The drive back to Tom's was one of the longest I can remember. Simon said nothing and I sat there feeling extremely stupid. Why couldn't Stella have come? Perhaps he insisted, but why? Was this some form of power play - men don't lose it like that, only hysterical women! No men don't lose it like that, they go out and smash things or hit people.

In reality, the drive back probably took about twenty minutes or at most half an hour, but my mind and real time were on different settings. My mind was whirring like a demented clock, ideas and pictures kept flashing through it, none of them were nice.

Was I finally cracking up? It felt like it. Perhaps I should call Dr Thomas? She'd really go to town on me and might even cancel my surgery. I had to have that surgery, I really did, so I could die complete. That caught me on the funny bone and I had difficulty not sniggering. What was so funny? The idea of cutting something off to make me complete, sounded totally Irish!

We arrived at Tom's and Stella held the door open as Simon followed me in. He repelled my attempts to deal with my wet clothes, shepherding me into the lounge. Stella followed him in a few moments later with a tray of coffee. Nothing was said as we sipped silently on our coffees.

Finally, Simon put down his mug and said, "We need to talk. I'd like Stella to stay to make sure we keep it relevant and not start on each other. Is that okay with you?"

I nodded and felt myself filling up.

"Why did you run off like that?" he asked me.

"I thought you had changed your mind about me. You rejected me in bed."

"I didn't reject you Cathy, just the remnants of Charlie."

"It's still part of me for another two weeks. You knew I was off hormones and that I wasn't glued up inside."

"Yes, but I hadn't considered what those consequences were. Now I know and I didn't handle it terribly well."

"You rejected me last night and again this morning. I decided not to give you a third chance."

"So you took off like an angry schoolgirl?"

"I needed to be alone, to think." Tears were streaming down my face.

"You could have done that here, not gone rushing out into the cold and dark. Didn't you know it was going to rain?"

"No, I was too upset to think, besides, I'm allowed to go out if I want to, I don't need your permission."

He stood up and threw up his arms in frustration. Then he walked around the room and sat down again.

"Are you going to do this every time we have an argument? Run off and hide?"

"Why are you going to bully me and treat me like a six year old?"

"I don't think this is getting either of you anywhere is it?" asked Stella. I'd almost forgotten she was there.

"Clearly we have some problems with the past. What about the future? How does Cathy see her future?" Stella tried to assert some control over the proceedings. "Do you still want to marry Simon?"

"I don't know?"

"Do you still want to marry Cathy?"

"Not if she's going to act like...."

"How about a simple yes, no or don't know?"

"I'm not so sure any more."

"Why not?"

"She's changed."

"Has she?"

"Yes."

"In what way?" I was going to speak but Stella hushed me.

"She rejected me, she gave back my ring and seems to think I don't want her any more. She ran off like a spoilt child. She seems to have been getting more irrational over the last few weeks."

"Why do you think that is?"

"I have no idea."

"None at all?"

"She's known about the surgery for weeks, I suppose her dad might worry her. The press business was a bit of a pain but it seems to have died down."

"So perhaps she's under a bit of stress?"

"A bit, but no more than me at the bank."

"Yes, I can see your point, it is a stessful job and with the hostile bid, things are a bit more hectic than usual. And of course you do have Cathy to worry about as well."

I wanted to jump up and hit both of them, but under Stella's withering glower, I shrank back in my chair.

"Yes, I know she is under a bit of pressure, but you get used to it."

"So, she is under a bit of pressure."

"Yes."

"But no more than you are?"

"Yeah, I suppose so."

"And you think she should cope?"

"I suppose so."

"Is that it?" asked Stella.

"All I can think of for the moment, why?"

"I was just wondering."

"Wondering what?"

"Why she's stuck you this long?"

"What?"

"Look big brother, sit down and shut up and maybe you'll learn something." Stella stood up and Simon shrank back in his chair.

Stella spoke as she walked around the room. "I want you to consider something Simon."

He nodded back to her.

"Imagine you have spent the first twenty years of your life being confused about who and what you are, and when you start to reveal it, you get hostile and angry answers from those you trust."

"We've been over this," he protested.

"Just humour me," she snapped.

He shrank back again.

"Okay, so you fought the system because the system tells you you shouldn't feel like this, it's wrong or weird. So you get defensive and hide how you really feel. Occasionally it slips out and you get a the odd hiding and rejection from those who should love you, but it seems only on their terms.

You escape and live away from them, well sort of live because you still haven't resolved anything, except escape from home and some autonomy. You don't have the money, strength or maturity to do what you want.

More abuse occurs in the place where you should feel safe, so you escape again and by sheer bloody coincidence meet up with someone who accidentally causes you to face up to your issues. Then by a series of further coincidences, others encourage you to confront and overcome your issues.

It seems to be working until you get into a relationship and despite trying to not make it work it does and you get seriously fond of your partner. He doesn't know your true status and although you keep confiding in his sister, who advises you against it, you want to tell him because the deceit is hurting you so much. The sister advises you not to, because his track record is poor and natural wastage may save you having to humiliate and embarrass yourself and him.

However, you go ahead anyway and amazingly he copes after a bit of thought. Then once he takes it on board and truly thinks about it, he actually says it doesn't worry him, especially as you are intending to sort out the little problem as soon as you can.

Things seem to blossom, and you confide to the sister, that you are so happy and so in love you can't believe your luck and are waiting for things to go wrong, because they always do.

But for the moment they don't. Meanwhile your mother has died without being brought on board and your father seems to be vacillating, then has a stroke. The pressure starts to rise and he demands attention from you.

Not only that but work is becoming more pressured as you begin to be appreciated by your boss who keeps throwing extra work and responsibility at you. You have the odd up and down with your boyfriend, but things go well enough for him to introduce you to his looney family, who all love you for yourself. They're crazy but genuine, unusual for bankers. Your boyfriend becomes your fiance and makes life even more risky for someone with a past.

Then you get threatening notes and someone tries to kill you. It's someone you liked and trusted and also your boss gets hurt saving you, and you end up under even more pressure of work. Then the press gets to meet you without suspecting your past until one of your fiance's friends digs up some mud and although he doesn't cast it, others are soon on the trail because of your fiance and his employer.

Pressure is now all around, not helped by your boy scout approach to life, can't avoid helping old ladies across roads, catching purse snatchers and saving babies in burning cars, not to mention juggling dormice and getting your fiance shot by poachers. Okay that was earlier, but it doesn't really matter.

The press begin to chase you and you are advised to go public. You do having been exposed on TV with jumping dormice and burning rescues. You are a B list celebrity because you are cute, caring and charming and engaged to one of the richest families in Europe.

Suddenly everything gets hostile, strangers are trying to discredit you if not injure or kill you because of your connection to the bank. You are pursued and threatened and have to go into hiding, so does your fiance and his know all sister.

More pressure from work, the sister sticks her oar in and helps your shrink refer you to a surgeon. Suddenly, the chance to become the real you, the one you've always wanted to be happens, out of the blue. It puts you under even more pressure plus you come off the hormones you've been taking for the past year or two, which fuck with your body and mind.

Then, just in case there isn't enough stress, a student of yours confides a medical secret which turns out to be a really bad one and you are drawn into a family in turmoil over a similar sort of problem you had. It's bound to push your buttons, but you soldier on when you should have been winding down to cope with the stresses and strains of surgery.

Instead of that, your fiance sulks when he remembers your imperfections and you stressed out of your little brain, run off screaming, frightening the rest of us to death. Oh you also give him his ring back, even though his sister told you never to do that, just to sell it."

"You told her that?" said Simon with a look of total astonishment.

"Course I did, what do you think I am, stupid?"

"No, you're a total bitch, but not a stupid one."

I sat there weeping silently, Stella had summed up my wretched existence pretty well. And it appeared to have washed over Simon without making him even damp.

"So what do you think?" she asked him.

"About what?"

"Jesus Aitch Christ Simon, are you fucking stupid or just deaf?"

"What do you mean?"

"I just explained why Cathy ran off, I'm only amazed she didn't have a total breakdown, the pressure she is under."

"We're all under pressure Stel."

"Go away, get out of my sight!" she said loudly and angrily at him, "and don't come back until you switch your stupid brain on!"


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