Mr Han Lee calls me over, points and says "That customer wants you to dance for him."

What could I do? I go over to set the guy straight but the first thing he says is "Loved the dance you were doing when I came in."

Dance? Dance? Me? That wasn't dancing, just me wriggling to try to get comfortable in this damn gaff. Before I could come up with some explanation he adds "A thousand dollars each and front row seats for the XLVII Superbowl if you and your friend will dance like that for me."

Well if you're a huge football fan you just don't turn down offers like that! The outfits he made us wear though were even tackier than Han Lee's dammit!

So this is what we do

With apologies to Two Broke Girls

"But Max, I am paying you and you are doing nothing?"

Mr Han Lee knew there had to be something wrong with my argument but he loved the increased business

Ever since the television cameras came to film us while we worked, new customers have poured in to be extras for the television series. They are so keen the television company doesn't have to pay them and Caroline and I make sure they buy lots of food and coffee to keep their tables or they are out the door.

So everyone is happy. The film company for cheap extras, Mr Han Lee for more big spending customers and I'm happy 'cos they're good tippers - dammit!

These newest fans though are something else!

"If Caroline and I wait on tables all we get is our wage from Mr Han Lee plus tips. So when the new fans say "We'll pay you to let us dress as you and do your job." what could I say? A boy waitress I might be but money is money and while not a gay icon I couldn't resist- Dammit!

With apologies to Two Broke Girls

So Caroline was going on about being broke and needing new shoes and I got really angry…

"Why don't you do what I do and go to the thrift shops to buy things?"

"Because you look like you buy them in thrift shops, that's why! Beside I bet you don't buy everything from thrift shops - what about your panties; what about those boots you're wearing now?"

Well Caroline had me there - the boots I mean - so I had to admit I'd got them new for $30 from a shop three blocks over from Han Lee's restaurant. Naturally she had to go there and 'right now' which is why we're walking home this way and the story came out.

"I'm not into boots and always used to wear sneakers. That's what I was wearing the day I was going for an interview with Mr Han Lee." The two of us crossed the road at this point, Caroline with a hand at the top of my back guiding me like any girl would another girl. There are times when I wish I could tell her that I'm a boy but if I did I'd lose my job, lose my flat and I must admit lose the best friend I've ever had because I've never had such good times as since I got this job and Caroline and I became what she calls BFFs

On the other side of the road I continued my story. "It was on the way to Han Lee's that I saw the shop. I wouldn't have gone in but my feet were getting wet through the holes in the bottom of my sneakers which I knew in any case weren't the thing for an interview. I needed the job so badly that I'd have spent everything I had to boost my chances and in I went…"

I paused in my tale because I was going to have to phrase things carefully so Caroline didn't guess I was a boy. "It's a nice shop though a bit old-style. Got one of those tinkly bells on the door which I like. Anyway, that day when the bell rang this oldish, silver-haired guy came out with a friendly smile - not like the smarmy boys you get in lots of places. He asked what he could do to help and all I could see were women's boots so I explained that I wanted something to help me pass a job interview."

There was only a block to go now as I wound up my story. "He disappears under the counter reappearing with a pair of knee-high, black wedge-heeled boots saying that a bit of extra height always goes down well at an interview and I was just made for these boots. It was an odd way of phrasing it but when I tried them they were so immediately comfortable I just had to have them!"

What I didn't tell Caroline was that like many boys I'm sensitive about being short and it felt wonderful to be 3" taller although the deciding point was that even though they were women's boots the wedge heels hardly showed at all as heels under a pair of trousers.

"Well I didn't have enough money for any new boots so I'm going to try to do some deal with him when nice as you like he says the boots were out of fashion and if I hadn't come in he was going to drop them off at the thrift shop so that's how I got new boots but at the thrift shop price of $30."

That's when we arrived at the shop and I looked up at the gold on varnished wood sign Henry Harrelson's Custom Fit Boots. The bell tinkled as we entered and Henry Harrelson appeared with a warm smile for us both

"Max, it's so good to see you and looking so well"

"Thank you Mr Harrelson I am feeing very well too. I got the job and this is my workmate Caroline who is interested in some new boots - I wonder what style would she fit? In my case you seemed to have found something I wouldn't normally have chosen but as soon as I put them on I knew it was a case of Not into boots but I can't resist - Dammit!"

The End

With apologies to 2 Broke Girls

This new guy starts coming into the diner making notes as he's eating then after a few weeks Caroline and I see him in this deep conflab with Mr Han Lee. To me this smells like trouble so we sweet talk Mr Han Lee until he admits that the diner is now so successful he wants to franchise it and the guy he's been talking to is this MBA expert on franchising.

Well we couldn't have that as Caroline and I would be out in the cold, just two more waitresses among thousands. We wanted our cut so a few days later when the guy comes back we get him cornered and spell out the 'facts of life'.

"Big franchises are only successful if they have a secret ingredient." Caroline explains. "Max and I are this diner's secret ingredient and we are only telling our secrets to those we are well paid to teach how to be us."

That's how Han Lee College came into being being. We have just had our first graduation ceremony and true to our word nobody but our graduates know our secrets.

Professor Caroline gets her undergraduates from the children of the disgraced business world. Boy there are lots of those and the students don't want their background known.

Me, Professor Max? Where do I recruit from? Even Caroline doesn't know that I'm a boy so I could hardly tell her that I'd come across this site on the internet called BigCloset TopShelf and posted a series of stories recruiting from those on the site who commented. The latest story is called 'Not into franchises but I couldn't resist - Dammit!'

With apologies to 2 Broke Girls

Chapter 2

I look from one to another of the girls - four pairs of eyes watching and waiting for an answer. I was in the women's changing room to avoid this very thing

It should have been simple to pop in and purloin Serena’s shampoo and soap before going into the men’s showers but what did Burns say? "The best-laid schemes o’ mice an’ me(n) gang aft agley". Evan and the other lads chose that moment to enter the men’s room, no doubt to have a seat while waiting for me to shower. The men’s room and showers was open plan whilst the women’s had separate cubicles. It was no contest so I stripped and grabbed a cubicle with barely a second thought.

Barely was the operative word for if I’d stripped inside the cubicle and hung my clothes over the top of its wall there would have been no problem. I didn’t and now looking at my friends know it is time to ‘man up’.

I dropped the towel to my waist. The girls’ jaws almost dropped to the floor.

Examining each in turn I could see their eyes flicking up and down between my chest and my hips, clearly trying to make sense of what they were seeing.

"The doctor says it’s gynecomastia" I said by way of explanation.

"Gyneco… nothing" exclaimed Serena. "Those are breasts. Bee Ar Ee Ay Ess Tee Ess. Breasts girl! I mean boy; no I mean I don’t know what I mean!"

"They were supposed to go away but somehow they didn’t they grew a bit more instead." I sighed.

"How come nobody noticed?"

"Well I’ve been wearing an elastic sports bandage to hold them flat. It’s in the pocket of my jeans and soaking wet."

"We'll they aren’t huge but you have more than a AA cup there. Now I think about it you do wear sloppy clothes but have you properly looked at yourself recently?"

"What do you mean?" To say I was feeling a little defensive would be a massive understatement.

"Behind you," said Serena. "Just turn around, look in the mirror and tell me what you see."

I turned. I looked, and looked some more. "OK, it’s me and I have ‘breasts’ if you insist on calling them that"

"It’s not just me calling them that and it’s not just the breasts. Look at yourself more carefully and drop the towel"

"I will not!" I exclaimed. "If anyone came in now I could be in all sorts of trouble let alone if they saw me naked"

"Nobody is coming in and Gwen will guard the door. Stop ducking the issue; we’re your friends and if it makes you more comfortable we’ll turn around and close our eyes while you tuck your bits back between your legs."

* * * * * *

Have you ever had one of those moments that change your life? When what you do, what you see, what you hear changes your world so that you will never be able see it and yourself in the same way again. I looked at the girls and recognised these were my friends. More than Evan and the lads these were friends I trusted.

Without saying any more, even to ask them to turn, I reached down through the towel around my waist, pushed my bits back and dropped the towel.

All was silent - I think even my heart stopped - then I opened eyes I was unaware I had clenched shut…

It wasn’t me! How can I explain this? The girl in the mirror, and there was no doubt in my mind she was a girl couldn’t possibly be me - but it was…

Somehow over months or even longer I’d stopped seeing when I looked in the mirror. What am I saying? Dai had stopped seeing … I was…

"Venus?"

"Catch her!"

* * * * * *

I didn’t faint. I couldn’t have fainted but I was aware I was sitting on the floor with my friends all around.

"Venus? Who’s your doctor?" Serena was asking.

"Doctor, I don’t know. We moved across the city"

"Never mind, I’m taking you to the hospital. This is an emergency."

"I'll warn the boys what’s happened," said Gwen

"I’ll find her some warm clothes; she's shivering," said Martina. "Jenny where are those capris you told me you had?"

It was only then that I noticed that I was naked.

* * * * * *

The ride to the nearby University Hospital was a blur. Only slowly did I become aware that Serena was having a row with the receptionist.

"No she hasn’t had an accident but it’s not normal for fit healthy 18 year olds to pass out."

"No she has not been drinking and we don’t do drugs!! We’d just been playing tennis."

I just sat while my friends bustled about me. My outfit didn’t stand out too much other than the fact I was shoeless - where did they go?
Jenny’s capris were pink and tight so I’d tucked myself back again to avoid embarrassment whilst realizing they would throw my backside into sharp relief when I stood. Similarly, without my bandage (or borrowed bra?) Martina’s white plunge-neck jumper offered no taming, instead seeming to magnify and highlight my…… ok, my breasts.

Clearly they hadn’t given much thought fashion-wise to the effect when picking things for me to wear. Martina wouldn’t be caught dead without a bra and Jenny, a 5’6" classic blonde, had the only spare pants. I on the other hand stand at over 5’11", my skin is a warm brown and, my crowning glory, is shoulder length very thick, very black hair inherited from my adventurous grandparents. Normally I tie my hair back in a pony tail once it is dry but my band had disappeared the way of my shoes and wet clothes into some mysterious hinterland. I didn’t look like a she-male hooker but I definitely also didn’t look like a vicar’s daughter!

It seems early Friday evening is a good time to need a hospital for I was quickly whisked onto a curtained-off bed where, before I even had time to worry, an important looking man entered wearing a white coat and a stethoscope around his neck. He picked up a clipboard from the end of the bed, looked at it, smiled and said
"Venus Williams? Very amusing. My name is Doctor Edwards and what seems to be the trouble young lady?"

Chapter 3

"Well for a start my birth name is Williams but my first name is not Venus" I explained to the doctor who seemed to be looking rather lower than my eyes.

"I guessed and the Welsh accent tends to confirm it. Maybe your parents gave you some dull name and you decided to go for something more exotic. Let’s see, you’re 18 right, born in the early 80s so that makes you a Jennifer or maybe a Sarah?" Dr Edwards was clearly doing his party piece and it wasn’t getting us anywhere. Time to put him in his place.

"Try Dai. Named for Dai Morris the rugby player."

It was though all the clocks in the world stopped at once. The doctor finally looked me in the eye and looked and looked, probably hoping to see some sign I was joking …

“I do apologise.” he eventually said; then became very businesslike. First checking my pulse, blood pressure and looking in my eyes he then put me through a series of exercises - balancing, following his finger even walking a line like a drunk driver - all the while probing me with questions on my past, my family, my medical history and what had led up to the moment I fainted.

"Look," he finally said, “this is an accident and emergency unit and there seems to be nothing critically wrong with you. However based on your appearance and the fainting spell I would be unhappy to totally let this pass. I’m almost certain you have at the least an endocrine imbalance that needs investigating so I’ll get a nurse to take blood, urine and if you can a semen sample because I want to see you again next week when I have the results."

With that he put his head through the curtain to talk to a nurse then turned back to me saying "Please don’t forget to make an appointment before you leave and be sure to tell them it’s to see Dr Edwards." Then he was gone.

The nurse soon re-appeared with a tray and started by taking a blood sample. To be honest she kept glancing at me strangely so I tried to lighten the moment by saying "Remember a sample not an armful."

That seemed to snap her out of her mood because as she put the syringe away she looked at me and said "You seem to have made quite an impression on Dr Edwards."

“He must be easily impressed then,” I replied

“Look, we are going into a side room to take more samples; will you be ok with that?”

"I’ll manage so let’s get on with it.”

Soon I was handing back the urine sample jar and set about getting the second sample. At 18 this wasn’t completely strange to me but it was something I rarely did as although I produced some fluid there was none of the oomph to the act that I heard talked about. Still the job got done and re-tucking to pull up Jenny’s pants, I headed out of the door to hand over the sample noticing for the first time that the fluid was almost clear.

"Totally painless" I said as we headed back to the main floor. "Which way for appointments?"

"Is next Friday at 4pm alright with you? asked the woman on the desk who had the look of someone rarely denied . "Dr Edwards specifically asked that you be his last appointment of the day".

Where do they get these people, I never seem to see them outside their little kingdoms. "Fine," I replied.

"When you arrive at the hospital please go straight to the waiting room on the 3rd floor of this building" and with that I was effectively dismissed.

Back in the waiting area only Serena out of my rabble of friends remained.

"The others and I decided to meet up later but first how are you? You seem to have been ages."

"That tends to happen when the Spanish Inquisition take you in for questioning" I flippantly replied, then paused aware of the concern on her face. A shiver ran through me then with barely a hesitation the words tumbled out.

“I’m frightened Serena. What’s happened to me? What am I going to do…?” With that I slumped into the next chair, her arms went round me and I began to sob on her shoulder. Deep, gasping snot laden sobs which only after a minute slowly gave way to long deeply taken breaths and finally when there seemed nothing left I broke into giggles and snickers which as I raised my snotty face to see Serena's concern became contagious until the two of us were laughing and slapping each others shoulders as though we'd won the lottery.

"Never mind what you’re going to do girl, the first thing we’re going to do is get some food!"

Fortunately we got to Serena's car before she had been given a parking fine and, while driving across town she explained that the others were waiting at our regular café on Churchill Way having postponed our movie plans.

"Are you pregnant Venus?" Martina shouted as we entered the café.

"Not so you’d notice" I responded exaggeratedly tossing may hair like one of the old movie stars.

"Seriously, those doctors in A&E are usually lightning fast but yours was with you for ages. What did he say?"

"Absolutely nothing wrong with me" I answered. "Of course first he had to earn his salary so he questioned and probed me every which way but there was nothing to stop me leaving and no treatment other than he wants to see me at the hospital on the 3rd floor next Friday"

"Are you positive you aren’t pregnant" interjected Gwen "only my sister works on that floor and it’s the Gyne ward!"

At that moment Evan joined us at the table with his tray carrying a pie and chips and two extra coffees which he pushed across to Serena and I.

"I think you need that" he said to me. "I’ve never seen anyone the colour you were back at the tennis club"

"Thanks Evan, you’re a gentleman. I suppose having bought me a drink you are declaring me officially one of the girls". It was a throwaway comment just to divert the conversation away from Gwen’s revelation but the effect on Evan was priceless as his face flushed bright red.

"I heard that!" George, Andy and Gareth chose that moment to arrive from the counter with heavily laden trays. "And," George continued, "from the look on Evan’s face I’d say our new Venus has an admirer"

Now it was my turn to blush. Did I say ‘blush’because I can’t ever remember blushing before in my life!

"Stop it right there!" Serena at full bore is a sight to behold and any thoughts the boys might have had regarding a bit of boisterous banter shot out and away over the horizon like puppy dogs with their tails between their legs. "Let’s decide what we are going to do this evening"

"Whatever it is some shoes would be nice and as mine weren’t in the car I guess they are locked up for the night back in the changing rooms."

"See, I told you she was a girl!" exclaimed Martina. "Venus is only hours old and already looking for a chance to go shoe shopping."

"Maybe it’s all right for those with money to throw away on shoes" interrupted Andy, "but not going to the cinema tonight means I can now afford to see the band playing at the Uni tomorrow night. Who’s with me?"

Plans were argued back and forth as the boys ate their meals, the girls stole their chips and the bands playing throughout the city were cruelly dissected. The result was a forgone conclusion - Saturday night at the University Students Union was agreed while we’d do our own bits and pieces during the day.

“I’m calling it a day then,” Serena finally decided. “I never did get my shower and if we are going to be up all hours tomorrow I don’t want to be too late tonight.”

“I’ll be going with See.” I added needlessly as I was a regular passenger on days I couldn’t borrow a car.

“Fair enough” Gwen concluded. “but I’m pumping my sister about your Dr Edwards, Venus so I’ll phone when I have news”

The drive back was uneventful but as we parked outside Serena’s house I knew I wasn’t ready to be alone. “Chocolate chip ice cream over at my place?” I asked.

“Do squirrels eat nuts?” she replied and without delay we crossed the road to my place opposite.”

Opening the front door I could hear the sound of the television in the lounge but we went straight through to the kitchen and were almost in the middle of the room before realising that my mother, father, elder sister Litara, Aunt Sophie with her husband Jack were all sitting round the kitchen table looking at us…

“Oh,” I said.

“Oh indeed” replied my mother and gave me ‘The Look’.

Let me explain my mother, Joy Williams. Take one of those women like Hilary Clinton, used to getting their own way. Imagine her a first generation mixed-race woman with ambitious parents who expected the best from her and you’ve got my mother. One day the first World President will be a woman like my mother!

“What is this all about,” she asked pronouncing each syllable to a slow rhythm. “And where did those come from?” She added, her eyes encompassing my unfettered breasts.

My brain froze as I’d completely forgotten about my appearance over the course of the evening. Now Dai had disappeared, I don’t know where, and Venus was confronted by something completely beyond her experience.

“She’s just realised she’s a girl” butted in Serena like a knight on a white horse riding to my rescue, but sadly totally outgunned…

"What do you mean, ‘HE’S realised, HE’S a girl’?”

Chapter 4

“I mean LOOK AT ME!" I shouted.

“I am looking at you and there is no need to shout" my mother’s chillingly reasonable voice declared. “You’ve seen doctor Hughes and he explained you have some gynecomastia and it will pass. That doesn’t mean you can go round dressed like some bimbo! Whose clothes are those anyway?”

“Dr Hughes was nearly 3 years ago and my breasts are clearly not going away and what does it matter whose clothes they are? They were lent to me by my friends when mine got soaked and MY FRIENDS ARE NOT BIMBOS!

“That is quite enough from both of you.” The voice was not loud, if anything it was quietly tired, but it held command because of its unexpected source. “Sit down and stop talking for a minute. Litara put on the kettle and make some tea while I call my mother - we need her here for this.” My father had spoken and with that he walked out of the kitchen, through to the lounge where I heard the television being turned off and the phone picked up.

My mother looked at me then shut the kitchen door and went back to her seat at the table. Serena and I settled nervously onto stools at the counter and waited while Litara put on the kettle and laid out biscuits and Sophie washed out the pot for a fresh brew of tea.

“Well that’s a turn up” said Jack, “Just don’t make Isaac angry”. Jack and my father, Isaac, were not only brothers-in-law but often worked together and were the best of friends. In many ways he knew father better than did my mother.

"She’ll be here by taxi in 10 to 15 minutes". It was my father standing at, or rather filling the kitchen door. Isaac Williams is the son of my grandmother Litara (called Tina) Williams, who immigrated here from Samoa, and the late Malcolm Williams, well known locally for his ferocity and size as a rugby union prop forward. Gentle though I’ve always known him nobody pushes Isaac Williams about with the possible exception of Grandma Tina!

“Venus, this is a family affair, would you like me to leave?" Serena asked.

“Don’t you dare, I need you here, but maybe you should let your parents know where you are"

"Venus?" came my mother's voice.

"Joy, stop. No more." my father’s interruption once more stemmed the flow. Then he looked at me and started to smile, a smile that widened into a grin then laughter. "Venus Williams…Venus Williams… ”

We moved into the lounge where there was more space and were just into our second biscuits when we heard the taxi pull up. “I’ll get the door" my sister offered and I stood at the same time as she showed Grandma Tina into room. She is no taller than me and not particularly fat but just by being there she took up a lot of space.

I remained standing in front of her nervously until Grandma made a twirly sign with her fingers for me to turn around then curiosity seemingly satisfied she approached as though to give me a kiss but first put a hand on my breast and gently squeezed. I then kissed her and we took seats side by side on the settee.

My mother took that as a sign for her to take centre stage so stood and moved to the fireplace. “It is of course nice to see you Tina (Samoan for mother) but I fail to understand why Isaac felt you should be here."

“You!”, in a flash Grandma Tina was back on her feet.“You fail to see! This isn’t about you Joy. This is about the family. This is about” looking directly at me, “this is about HER!”

"Stand up girl.” Looking first at my mother then around the rest in the room Grandma drew a breath and continued “What affects her affects everyone in the family. Isaac has regularly come to me with worries that you, Joy, are pressuring his son to go into a respectable profession like yours. I've been concerned that my grandchild was a natural fa’afafine † such as those I grew up with in Samoa, who was going to have problems in a country with no understanding of such things. I was wrong." Turning back Grandma looked directly at me again. "I have eyes. I can use my eyes, She is a girl!”

With that Grandma dropped back in the seat next to me and I was enveloped in a bearlike hug.

Nobody else but Grandma Tina, it seemed, could have got away with a speech like that. However assumptions are the mothers of all foul-ups and my mother is still standing.

“Who do you think you are Tina, coming into this house pronouncing my son to be a girl. Are you a doctor? No! This is not Samoa in the days of your youth, This is Britain in the year 2000! If there is medical problem we approach it in the modern way and see a doctor!”

I put up my hand to stop my mother before she could go further and struggled out of Grandma's embrace and to my feet. "Excuse me everyone but this is firstly about me and I am 18. I am not a child any more and I have seen a doctor today.” With that I burst into tears as Litara and Serena leap to their feet to come and stand either side of me

“More tea anyone?”

† Just click fa'afafine here or above for a 1 minute video explanation of the term

Chapter 5

To describe the rest of the evening as an anti-climax is unfair. My Aunt Sofie as always had impeccable timing and her offer of tea was just what was needed to defuse a volatile situation even though beer, wine and fruit juice proved to be the diversions of choice. I sat with big sister Litara to one side, an arm around me, and Serena to the other describing our day and fielding or passing questions.

Questions, so many questions!
Did I have a boyfriend? No.
Did I have a girlfriend? No.
Was I a virgin? Almost and it was a girl!
Did I like to dress up? Not particularly but today was fun.
Had I always known? No and it was probably the shock of realization that ended with me in A&E.

No matter how dramatic the day there comes a time when the call of sleep won’t be denied and at one in the morning the last visitor, Serena, who never got her shower but did get her chocolate chip ice cream, headed across the road as we made last moment arrangements to meet tomorrow, or rather later today in the afternoon.

Reason suggests I would lay in bed tossing and turning as I fretted about all that had happened but reason has little to do with real life and I slept like a log.

I was up and winding a fresh bandage round my breasts next morning when Litara breezed straight into my bedroom with a double armful of clothes.

“Get that off," she said, "you need a proper bra." It seems that big sister has never discarded a single article of clothing since she got out of nappies and after several painful or laughable attempts declared me to be a size 34 B

"Why are you doing this Litara? What do you think this is all about?"

"Why is easy" she replied. "It’s the way you stood up to mum and stood up for your friends last night. No boy ever behaved like that and it was just the way she and I used to fight before I left for University."

"Don’t get me wrong Venus… is it all right for me to call you Venus?…, it would feel weird to call you Dai with those Bs staring me in the face… As I was saying, I love mum dearly but she doesn’t realise that I’m not her and this isn’t the 1970s. You and she used to get on so well but over the last couple of years the arguments I’ve seen between the two of you have been difficult for both dad and me to deal with. You seemed unable to cope with her yet still unwilling or unable to retaliate. Last night at first appeared to be more of the same but once I saw you standing there with your hands on your hips, chin forward and tits halfway out of your top - for a moment I was you and it all made sense. You’re a girl going through exactly what I went through!"

"What this is all about is much more difficult. I’m not a doctor or a psychologist - I produce documentaries about places most people will probably never see. That means I’m a hands on practical sort of girl dealing with things like - What are you doing today? Where and when are you doing it? Who with and most importantly what are you going to wear?"

"I love you Sis" I said stepping forward and giving her a hug; "and you’re right" At which moment I became aware of two pairs of breasts coming between us. Stepping a little back I admitted "I was going to wear much the same as last weekend but with this bra that isn’t going to work"

"Immediate needs are simple because after an early lunch Serena and I are going into town to meet the other girls at St David’s shopping centre."

“What…?” I spluttered - Litara hadn't said anything, just stood there looking at me.

"Have you any idea what you just said?” she eventually asked. "Hello!" waving her hand in my face. “Other girls.”

“Ok” I smiled. “Point made! Will jeans a T-shirt and trainers be ok?”

“Perfect and if you don’t mind, I’ll be coming with you to help you spend you the cheque I gave you for your Birthday with maybe a bonus for my baby sister”

“I’m taller than you so just watch with the ‘baby’ bit” I responded grabbing a pillow from my bed.
“An inch if you’re lucky and I can still take you!" A point she proved with a simple finger to my chest which deposited me on my backside on the bed.

By noon I’d checked by text with Serena that she was happy for Litara to join us and we were in the kitchen eating with mum what I suppose was brunch... Mother was not a happy bunny. True to her word Litara had found me jeans and a T-shirt but the jeans, which she last wore in about 1993, were very tight and very yellow, while the T-shirt, though a conservative tan was figure hugging and had in large red letters ‘Don’t Assume I Cook’ across the front.

"You raid my wardrobe you wear my choice" was her explanation.

I was wearing my own size7 trainers but she had insisted on changing the laces for some of her red ones, putting a gilded shell necklace on me and loading a large burnished brown leather shoulder bag with my phone and bits of girl junk for me to carry. My hair she barely tried to do anything with just brushing it down.

"Trust me" she finally said while making me stand and revolve. "It isn’t fashion but you will fit in perfectly at the city centre shopping area on a Saturday afternoon."

Half past twelve and Serena was already at the back door. As I opened the door for her I signalled with my eyes and a finger that she should avoid upsetting my mother.

"We’re off mum", I said. "We’ve promised to meet friends in town but we’ll be back by six at the latest."

“If you must but I don’t see why you can’t wear your own clothes. Don’t expect help from me if you’re arrested.”

“We won’t mum” said Litara and with that were out of the door and almost running.

Jenny and Martina were already there when we arrived and Gwen turned up only two minutes later. "Sorry" said Gwen. “I was on the phone to my sister - Tell you about it later."

The big event of the afternoon wasn’t about me but Jenny’s plan to get a tattoo. "I’ll tell you what" said Litara, “Why don’t you four go to the tattoo parlour while I take Venus into the hairdressers. I’ve a friend there who might trim her split ends which would only take a few minutes then we’ll catch you up".

With that the girls were gone and without even being consulted it seems my afternoon had been arranged. Left to my own devices I would never have gone to a hairdressers instead when necessary trimming my hair myself but I saw no harm in going along with Litara’s plan. There wasn’t any harm but unknown to me my devious sister had rung ahead from the house…

Only 40 minutes later we were already in the tattoo parlour. “So much better" said Serena . "You have gorgeous hair but at that length it has much more movement and life to it".

"Thank you. It really did need doing" I said pushing some behind my ears.

"Vee!" Gwen’s shriek also burst my eardrums. The ones that is in my newly pierced ears.

"Special discount," shrugged Litara, "and I couldn’t have my new sister an earring virgin at 18.”

"Look what we’ve come up with" said Jenny coming from the side room where she and Martina had been designing. "With the Sydney Olympics coming up I liked the idea of using the five Olympic Rings but with the letters W A L E S in them but Martina pointed out that Wales didn't actually have a team because they compete as part of Great Britain, and I didn’t even know which team members were Welsh. How about this instead?" She asked pushing across a piece of paper.

That’s how these things happen! Litara headed back to her friend’s hairdressing salon for her appointment - and because an old lady of 28 can only be expected to put up with shrieking 18 year olds for so long. The rest of us shopped - Serena insisting I needed at the least a pair of shoes - and one by one went into the tattoo parlour where very refined tattoos - if that’s not a non-sequitur - were applied to our left shoulders depicting the Olympic Rings inset with the letters S V J M G

Chapter 6

"Home James, and don’t spare the horses" Litara uttered in a posh voice from the back seat of the car amidst a mountain of Serena’s bags - God that girl can shop!

The afternoon had gone brilliantly and unforgettably with the tattoos to remind us. Also very expensively. Plans had been laid for me to cook dinner at home then rejoin Serena at her house so we could get ready and be at the Students Union by nine to meet Evan and the lads.

Mum’s mood was if anything stranger than in the morning when Litara and I got back indoors. She’d been to the Nursing Home to see her father, my grandpa Joe. He suffered from Alzheimer’s and was sometimes lucid but would sometimes come out with appalling stuff. It was best to leave mum alone on such occasions so as soon as the tea brewed Litara went through to the lounge with her while I whipped up a beef risotto.

Six thirty on the dot dad arrived back from the boatyard and I warned him to tread careful with mum.

"Best then that you get clear with your friend Serena straight after dinner. I’ve seen too much in life to be shocked by you in this last 24 hours but your mother was fit to burst when I left for the yard this morning."

With that he did the last thing I would have expected, coming over to the stove where I was stirring and giving me a huge hug. For a moment I was 5 years old again - I absolutely adored this mountain of a man who always made me feel safe.

"Be away with you Da" I spluttered barely able to stop tears. "Give mum and Litara a call and get yourself sat at the table for dinner."

Dinner was very subdued. Mum noticed my hair and the earrings of course but limited herself to commenting that my hair had needed trimming. Litara finished first and went upstairs only returning, with a bag in her hand, when I shouted that I was off to Serena’s.

Litara came outside into the front drive with me handing over the bag and saying "This is to help you put something together to wear for tonight but I want you to know that while I’m away working, any things that you want to wear from my wardrobes are yours to borrow."

"That is ridiculous!" I replied "I may not know much about fashion but I do know some of your things were very expensive and some you are very attached to."

"You’re right about that without question and I shudder to think how much I’ve spent over the years but in return I may have a big ask of you…. Bigger than you can possibly imagine, indeed to underestimate how huge an ask would be a big mistake.

What can you say to a statement like that? I thanked Litara for the bag and went over to Serena’s

Putting an outfit together with See was fun and surprisingly easy. "We’re going rock-chick style" she stated. "Beside a bit of eye makeup it is just pants and a loose top which will go with the jacket your sister lent you. Pretty much what you usually wear so you won’t feel uncomfortable"

Waiting at the Union for a ticket I couldn’t help but wonder at Serena’s understated description of my outfit - my ballet style flats I had bought that afternoon but the jeans were in fact leggings, the loose top matched with those leggings looked deceptively like a mini dress and Litara’s jacket was I learned by Alexander McQueen! Even ‘a bit of eye makeup’ had its own meaning for a rock-chick.

Martina, Gwen and Jenny had arrived by taxi and appeared to have chugged a booster or two before arriving so were well happy and soon persuaded Serena and I that we should all greet the boys with a cheer - that is a version of Alleluia that Jenny had filmed on the New York subway last Christmas then taught us to celebrate the end of our exams. Tonight for one night only we were going to be The Welsh Subway Sisters .

It couldn’t have worked out better because the lads (Evan, George, Andy, Gareth and fresh back from a London interview Brian) arrived synchronized walking in line in the style of some gangster film they'd watched so all eyes were on them until we broke out into Alleluia.

Unfortunately that was the high point of the evening. Evan behaved strangely around me; Gwen and Brian had a fight because although they had been going out together for weeks Brian had already accepted the offer of a job in London without telling Gwen. The band were hopeless so Jenny and Martina cheered themselves up with smuggled booze to the point Andy and Gareth had to get a taxi and take them home.

On the plus side Serena and George were getting on well but that left Evan and I as gooseberries outside the Union at midnight.

"What’s the problem Evan?" I asked. Evan had been my friend since since we both went to the same school before college and I wasn’t used to seeing him down.

"There’s something you need to know" stated Evan "and all I can do is say it straight out. I’m gay."

"Let me get this right. You’re telling me straight that you’re gay" I said barely suppressing a giggle.

"This isn’t a joke! This is deadly serious. I’m gay"

"You can’t be gay, you’re the star player in the college rugby team!" I squeaked.

"Tell me about it! How do you think the team and other lads would react if they found out that Evan ‘The Terminator’ Jones plays for the other side?"

"Well they’re hardly going to beat you up are they? My Da said he thought you could take on any two of your teammates at the same time and coming from him I don’t think that was a joke.”

I held his forearms away from me at arms length to have a good look. "No, I can’t see it Evan. my gaydar clearly doesn’t work. In any case why would that make you uncomfortable around me? Doesn’t that make my appearance easier to take?"

"You don’t get it do you, you daft cow! I was in love with Dai and he’s gone!" With that Evan turned his back to me and ran leaving me standing like the idiot I was for never having seen what had been under my nose for years.

Chapter 7

I pulled out my phone to check the time, 12:15. What to do now? Get to Serena’s car and wait for her seemed the only option but when I got there Serena had beaten me to it and was not alone. From the way they were going at it I had to presume that she was giving George a workout and I didn’t feel like interrupting.

GOIN HOME CU 2MRW I texted and started walking. It was a warm night I had a jacket and thank goodness I hadn’t bought the heels that Serena wanted for me. A good time to stretch my legs and the 5 miles home would give me time to think without the pressure of friends and family.

A car pulled up alongside me with windows down and two young men in it.

"Want a lift home sweetheart" asked the passenger with a strong London accent.

"Thanks for asking but no thanks, I’m enjoying the exercise" I replied giving a little wave as they drove on.

It was a half hours walking later that another car drove past giving me a beep and chorus of catcalls from the boys hanging out the windows. They took the first turning left a 100 yards up the road leaving me thinking ‘Idiots will get arrested sounding a horn at this time of night,’ but only a minute later they were back having circled the block.

Fortunately I was right beside a house with the front room lights on so without even looking at the car I walked up the garden path and pretended to press the doorbell. There was a squeal of burning rubber as the car accelerated away and I breathed a sigh of relief - maybe walking home hadn’t been such a bright idea.

Time to cross the road and walk the other side so as to see the cars approaching me and be prepared. It was 1:15 with only a mile to go when I saw them approaching and slowing - the same two men who had offered me a lift in the city centre.

"It’s too late for a young girl like you to be out alone. Let us take you home" said the passenger simultaneously opening his door to get out.

I ran! I ran like 5 hours of tennis a week trains you to run. Again there was a squeal of tyres but when I glanced behind I could see the passenger chasing me and the car had done a U-turn to follow us. On my right was a path between houses through to the next street over. I was through it in seconds across the next street a jink left and right again through another path and at 1:21 was upstairs on my bed, arms round my knees shaking and rocking backward and forward.

It was noon when Litara gently knocked the door and came in with a tray of teas, toast and marmalade. I’d been asleep under the duvet with my jacket on the chair but had no idea of when I dropped off to sleep.

"We all heard you when you came in this morning - dad got up and was coming in to see you but I persuaded him not to. Was it a boy?"

"No it was my stupidity!" Slowly I described my whole day examining every detail for clues as to how I'd got myself in such a mess. It wasn’t just the men in the car, it was many small things: the tattoo, the flirting with Evan, my rock-chick outfit. Even bless her my new birthday present diamond stud earrings from Litara. I'd enjoyed it all so much but I hadn’t chosen any of it. I’d let it happen like a rider on a bolting horse.

By the time we’d finished the tea and toast I was talked out. "I need to get dressed and get moving. I’ll see you downstairs and Sis…thanks for listening.”

Litara left only to return seconds later to toss a roll of cotton wool and a bottle of cleanser onto the bed. "You make a panda look conservative at the moment".

Walking into the kitchen I don’t know what anyone was expecting but I was wearing neither bra or bandage. My hair was in a low ponytail, my jeans and sweat shirt were Dai’s but I was still wearing my diamond studs, red laces in my trainers and carrying the leather shoulder bag.

"Sorry I woke you all up last night. I won’t be here for lunch as I'm cycling down to the marina to try to rustle up some cleaning and varnishing work but if you make a roast would you leave a plate in the microwave for me but I’ll be back at 6:30. Have a good afternoon. Bye" and I was out the door before anyone could draw in a breath to answer or ask a question.

Despite my eccentric appearance I did quite well that afternoon as owners either lounged aboard their boats or secured them after a weekend sail. As long as the weather held I had deals enough to earn about £200 varnishing and I was even offered the opportunity to crew a yacht being delivered to Bilbao on the north coast of Spain but had to turn it down (leaving my details for future reference) as they were leaving on Wednesday.

With a feeling of accomplishment the ride back home was much more pleasant than the ride out and coming through the door I could hear the sound of Litara playing the guitar in the lounge. There seemed to be nobody else in the house so I went in picked up my guitar and joined her.

"Feeling better?" she asked and I answered with a smile. "You do realise I hope, that you don't look like a boy but like a girl who’s been hurt and is trying not to look attractive!"

That did it! "What made you so bloody clever Sis?" I laughed

"Playing guitar of course. I’d come in here or go up to my bedroom spitting with anger at mum or something that had gone wrong and work out my frustration playing and singing. Soon you would come along and you learnt to play to join in and sing ‘Don’t say I told you so.’

Chapter 8

The days that followed were mundane. As unlikely as it seemed my life, trials and tribulations were not the centre of the universe. From Monday morning my little rebellion gave way to practicality and I wore a bra. Several in fact as at Litara’s suggestion, in a break from varnishing on Tuesday, I went into Marks and Spencer’s where a helpful woman found that I was in fact a 36B as they did not come pre-stretched-out like my sister’s. Adding two bras and some of their more practical size 12 knickers to my shopping I realised nobody had batted an eyelid at my daring.

Work clothes were simple as during a beautifully hot sunny spell using scrunchies borrowed from Litara, Dai’s shorts and t-shirts were perfectly suitable. I did however, after an embarrassing comment about modern girls by a visiting boat owner, shave my legs and armpits between work and tennis on Monday evening.

Each of those evenings Serena and I had our tennis practice sessions but, much to her disgust, I stuck to wearing shorts as it was too much of a stretch to imagine myself as the butt scratching girl in the famous Tennis Girl poster.

On that first Monday Serena had seemed a bit ‘off’ with me and I was about to apologise for failing to get back to her after my text message when she beat me to it by apologising for leaving me in the lurch Saturday night and spending all of Sunday with George. That left me with no alternative other than to tease her that a girl’s loyalty to her girlfriends traditionally went out of the window when a new boyfriend was involved.

All was going so smoothly until Thursday when Gwen turned up at the tennis club as Serena and I were finishing.

“It’s about your Dr Edwards. My sister, the nurse, knows him." started Gwen. "He’s not an A&E specialist at all so he must have been filling in for someone. He’s an Endocrinologist whose speciality made him come here on a temporary placement because the hospital has several patients who are male but look female and vice versa. That is why his office is on the Gyne ward even though he isn’t a gynecologist, he uses their scanners.” She also said he’d hit on several of the nurses and thinks he’s God’s gift to women!"

"What happens to these patients who are men that look like women?" I asked

"I asked that and she told me that she doesn’t know much but she has seen a couple of patients who started looking as female as anyone but within a year or two had a beard."

Serena stopped Gwen at that point and asked "You haven’t any facial hair have you Venus, would you like a beard?"

"I have actually" I replied "and as my hair is very dark I’ve shaved sometimes."

"Me too" put in Gwen. "The dark hair I mean not the shaving, except the first time. I started with bleaching but that wouldn’t work with Venus’s skin tone. Now I wax and next week I have an appointment for electrolysis to get rid of it once and for all! I hate my moustache!!

"You didn’t answer Venus. "If you could have a beard, get rid of your breasts and look like a man would you?" asked Serena, ever ready to ask or say what nobody else dared.

"How can I possibly answer that See? I’ve only been a girl a few days and yes it’s fun being me but that’s no time at all! As to being a man how do I know what that feels like?"

Hold it right there!" Serena butted in. "On Friday night you told everyone you were NOT A VIRGIN and it was with a girl!"

"I’m not. It was Janice Wheeler at our last school and it was a blowjob behind the bicycle sheds. It’s just that it didn’t work completely"

"Blowjobs don’t count!" laughed Gwen. "Beside everyone had her and Martina even boasts she was Janice’s first. Didn’t you ever see the graffiti ‘Janice Wheeler is the school bike’? The last I heard of her she had gone into Banking!”

“That’s so mean Gwen" I retorted. “What did Janice ever do to you? No wonder Brian’s leaving for London!”

The punch came so fast I didn’t have a chance and before I knew it I was sat on my backside with a hand over my left eye………

"Time to go home I think" said Serena quietly. "Gwen’s gone and you’re full of surprises. It was time somebody told Gwen a few home truths but I didn’t think it would be you!"

"You’re surprised! That girl’s got a punch like Lennox Lewis" I said getting up laughing.

Back at home the mood was friendly. After work mum had been in to see her father, my Grandpa Joe, and Joe had been in fine form. Once the explanation as to how I got the eye came out Da and Litara could barely keep from laughing every time they glanced in my direction.

"The big day at the hospital tomorrow" said mum as we finished our dinner and Litara was clearing the kitchen table. "Would you like me to come with you?"

What a turn up! "Thank you for offering mum but this is something I need to do myself"

"Whatever you think best"

What!! Has a spaceship come and swapped my mother for an alien?

"Litara, please sit back down a minute because there are things that you all need to know because it has affected you all.

When I was growing up my parents were very ambitious for me but in Britain it was still unusual for a woman to achieve as much as they wanted for Sophie and I in the workplace. Sophie was happiest doing things with our mother but I’d say that when I grew up I would become a man so that I could please and look after my Daddy. He would say that if I wanted it enough maybe it would happen because when he was young he too had been a little girl but had become a man so that he could be a Daddy for me and my sister Sophie.

I was young and, at least a little, believed him. I wanted so much to please my Daddy but I never did change and over the years accepted that no amount of wishing could change the world. I worked hard and got into an accountancy firm and worked my way up. Eventually I was glad I’d not changed because I met your father Isaac and had you Litara, my beautiful daughter.

It was another 10 years that passed before my son was born but finally my life was complete. Maybe I did try to push you too hard but I’d learned the hard way that you need more than wishes in this life.

A week ago you and Serena come into this house and she tells me my son realises he’s a girl. She says that - after everything I have worked for!

How I didn’t strangle Serena I don’t know, but some things have changed since I was a girl. Just before my son was born the family gathered, not you Litara you were too young, to watch a television documentary about where my father grew up. It explained that in this village there were girls who changed into boys and I remembered that program because of the stories I’d been told as a girl.

This week I’ve been asking Daddy if it was true that he’d changed and he told me yes he came from the Dominican Republic and was a guevedoche. †

I then asked if he was really my father and he laughed about it saying he was in no doubt being the only black man in the village with the only mixed race children!

† http://m.youtube.com/watch?v=-b-abEh2k6k&list=PL2gQw0SoGqaHN...

Chapter 9

“Turn that thing off!!!”

Serena is seriously deranged. Just how warped does someone have to be to make the effort to get a CD player to just that spot on on the record so they can turn it to full blast at 9:00am.

A phone call from Serena after dinner on Thursday evening produced a plan for a serious assault on my image next day before my appointment at the hospital. Serena then asked to be handed over to Litara who was co-opted to get some shape into my eyebrows before I went to bed.

A lie-in by my definition lasts to at least 10:00 but Serena and Litara must have started wardrobe rummaging at dawn because by the time I got out of the shower and had a bowl of cereal, there was half a dress shop on hangers scattered around Litara's bedroom.

“Why do I have to wear a dress? I’ve never worn a dress and I’d be much more confident wearing something like I wore last Friday evening”

“First” Serena replied, “your mother was not entirely wrong when she said you were dressed like a bimbo last Friday. Secondly you are going to be dealing with a powerful man with a reputation as a bit of a letch and the right dress will help you stand up to him. Finally you will leave here in a couple of hours wearing the dress so that by the appointment at 4:00 you will have the confidence you need.”

An hour later a denim corset dress with full-length front zipper had been selected. I was pleased they had found anything at all which fitted me but they pointed out that I would certainly have a physical examination and that for this dress I didn’t require either a bra or help to get in and out of it. Also the straps would give me confidence that I wouldn’t fall out.

Makeup was what could kindly be called problematic. Ice packs throughout yesterday evening had stopped my eye from swelling and luckily it wasn’t bloodshot but a definite rainbow effect had developed.

“Be bold declared Litara. Wear it with pride rather than try to hide it. You have good skin so stick to just a bit of lip gloss - Serena will help you pick one in town.”

Finally See held some of my hair back in a clasp near my crown leaving the rest free to swing. “Like that it won’t get into your eyes but it still has life” she explained.

“Right, you two be off or I'll get no work done,” said my sister finally (while at home Litara seems to live on the phone and computer but how this fits in with making documentaries has me stumped).

Serena and I were in town by 12:00 and soon in Debenhams. “I’ve no idea what suits your skin tone but noticed a girl with similar skin working a makeup counter here. She will be your best bet for good advice.”

Advice the girl certainly had but most of it went over my head! Suffice it to say we left thirty minutes later with me looking much less like the loser of a fight even though I still couldn’t see any makeup other than the lipgloss. All it had cost me was the price of the lip gloss and an order for shades of cosmetics not stocked in Cardiff which when they arrived would be mine once I’d paid the price of a small mortgage!

A few minutes later we were in our regular café where we had been expected by Martina and Jenny with coffees already on the table ordered as soon as they spotted our approach. I was beginning to think Serena had a great future ahead of her coordinating armies!

“Great dress,” effused Jenny “and the black bag (Litara’s again) goes perfectly.”

“I’ve seen just the sandals to go with the dress!” came from Martina. “You've just got to get them.” So we were out of the cafe, drinks downed, and across the road in the shoe shop less than 20 minutes after arriving

The sandals were wedges with ankle straps of the exact matching colour to the dress. Not only that but they were comfortable for my first heels of about 2" and reduced in price. I think if I hadn’t bought them the girls were so determined I have them they would have clubbed together to buy them for me.

Unfortunately Martina had to go back to work at that point but Jenny was in for the long haul and had prepared a buffet lunch back at her place to eat while we watched a movie.

"You’re joking?" I questioned. "It’s the middle of the day. Why would we watch a movie?"

"Educational supplement!" explained Serena. "You’re lagging behind on the female experience. I wanted us to watch Thelma and Loiuse but got voted down on grounds of the effect on your driving so we went with Jenny’s choice instead."

That is how Serena, Jenny and I, instead of shopping as I expected, sprawled together to watch Never Been Kissed.

Our timing for the end of the movie was perfect and at 3:50 the three of us were approaching the waiting area for Dr Edwards office only to see, already there… Gwen!

Gwen was up and hugging me like a favourite sister she hadn’t seen for 20 years. "I'm so, so sorry. Oh, your poor eye! I'm so sorry but I couldn’t let you go through this alone. Be sure to ask for a nurse present if he gives you a physical" she whispered, “it’s all arranged."

We’d no sooner sat than walking down the corridor came Dr Edwards. "Ah, my 4 o'clock appointment. Perhaps you’ll go straight in," he said to me. T hen turning to the others continued, "I have no more appointments today so you must be the escort. This is likely to take rather a long time so I’m sure" nodding toward me, "we’ll understand if you don’t wait".

“We're staying,”said Gwen. “No matter how long it takes, we’re staying.”

"Whatever you wish" replied Dr Edwards opening the door to his office and ushering me inside. Once seated Dr Edwards looked through a folder and started. "Right, Dai Williams. That’s quite a shiner (black eye) you have there. Who did it? One of the other boys?"

I bridled "No a friend".

"If that’s what your friend does to you I’d hate to see what they do to their enemies"

"Perhaps you should avoid annoying my friend then. You just met her!"

Dr Edwards did a double take then pulling himself together said "Perhaps we should get on. My initial reaction was that you were suffering from a degree of Androgen Insensitivity Syndrome (AIS) but from these results it appears your case is somewhat rarer with a condition called de la Chapelle syndrome †. What is known as being an XX male." You have very little testosterone but unusually elevated œstrogen levels.

"If I have two X chromosomes then why aren't I female?" I asked.

"That is because you probably have the significant part of the Y chromosome but it has become embedded in your second X chromosome obtained from your father. Things will be clearer after I have given you a physical examination"

Stopping Dr Edwards with a raised hand I declared "If I’m to have a physical I’d like a female nurse present please"

"That really isn’t necessary but if it makes you more comfortable…" Dr Edwards lifted the phone and asked for a nurse to be available at Gyne when he and his patient got back from from X-ray.

An hour later we were back in the doctor’s office and I’d been X-rayed, pushed, prodded, palpitated, examined frontally and anally (I'm sure the nurse winked at me when the doctor was doing that) and ultra-sound scanned. I felt like a bit of meat and the Dr Edwards appeared to have become more frustrated at each stage.

"Right," started Dr Edwards "unfortunately there is little good news other than your very high level of fitness. You are sterile and there is nothing we can do if you wish to become a father also you appear to have have vestigial immature female organs that have a significant chance of becoming cancerous so I would recommend you have exploratory preventive surgery. If your appearance upsets you I wouldn’t hesitate to recommend a mastectomy and a testosterone supplement"

"Dr Edwards. Since I gave you my medical history last week I have learnt that my Grandfather came from the Dominican Republic and was born a girl but a guevedoche.”

"You have been misinformed. Through my research I am aware of the cases to which you refer but if the person you describe as your grandfather did have that condition he would certainly have been unable to father children as such men are infertile." replied Dr Edwards. "In any case the normal X chromosome will have come from your mother and the impaired chromosome from you father who I see from your description is Anglo-Polynesian so unconnected to the Dominican Republic."

"Then a miracle must have occurred because my grandfather is certain he was the only black man in the area who could have fathered my mother and she most certainly is my mother! Also how do you know it was my father’s X chromosome that was impaired when there were two X chromosomes that went into the making of me?"

I’d taken all I could stand from this narcissistic know-it-all. "You say I am very fit yet will never have children. Next you tell me you want to have me opened up so someone can rummage around looking for things to cut out,” by this time I was on my feet and halfway out the door…

“I don’t think so!"

† http://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/XX_male_syndrome

Chapter 10

"I see the confidence training worked then!"

I was outside Dr Edwards office, tears streaming down my face but with my stance and jaw set in a way that would have given a hungry lion pause for thought.

"Paws for thought!"

"What? Are you losing it girl?" queried Jenny

"No just remembering a character given to inappropriately timed puns in a favourite book "

"Let’s get out of this place! To the café!" cheered Serena. "Gwen if you’re not in your own car we can squeeze you in."

"You were magnificent. Just like a movie heroine storming out - except for the tears of course. We’ll have to work on that." Serena was in full flood and her protégé was not going to be denied a single second of her time in the sun.

That was when Martina and the lads came in, Evan included but not Brian, and the story of the day’s adventures had to be told all over again.

"I still don’t see the connection to the movie though" said George, who had never knowingly watched a chick-flick in his life.

"It’s association; putting yourself in the character’s shoes. Watch a psycho-thriller movie and afterwards jump at shadows; watch an uplifting movie and afterwards feel ready to face whatever the world throws." explained Jenny.

"No, it’s not that way for me," replied George. If I watch a psycho-thriller movie afterwards I feel like shooting or blowing up the bad guys; watch a romantic comedy and afterwards want to shoot or blow up everyone!"

Serena gave George a hug and kiss on the cheek then turned to us and rhetorically declared "Doesn’t he say the sweetest things!" at which moment the paper case from a straw Gareth had just opened and blown across the table, bounced off her nose.

"Let’s all go get rat-arsed?" suggested Andy eloquently.

"There is no way I am keeping sober to drive while you lot get wasted" was Serena's reply but Evan then offered to be the nominated driver for everyone as long as Serena didn’t mind coming back to pick up her car next day.

It was brave talk but in our mixed group cash shortage and the drinking laws limited our real options so we drove the three cars to Serena’s house and walked to a pub half a mile away that was tolerant of our predicament. Conversation quickly drifted away from my medical adventures to work and the future.

Gareth was in the enviable position of being able to afford a gap year to travel before University and Serena through family connections had a job with an estate agent although she too planned to go to University in a year or two. Martina, George and Gwen were going straight to University. Jenny and Evan into retail, Andy would happily do whatever paid the bills………

As I looked at my friends whatever adrenaline there was left in my system drained away. Of all of us there was one who stood out as being up the creek without a paddle and it was me. I rose to my feet, "Sorry everyone, thank you for helping me get through today but everything has rather caught up with me. I’m going to call it a day and go home. Serena, I’ll call you tomorrow.” With that I left and walked the short distance home entering the front door after my big night out at 9pm!

Mum, dad and Litara were watching the television in the lounge when I came in and I had to face their annoyance that I hadn’t at least rung to give them news of my results. I did do my best to explain what the doctor had said but beyond knowing that a normal woman had XX chromosomes and a normal man XY, mum and dad knew nothing about genetics and in truth I only knew little more myself from biology classes. It was Litara who saved the day as she had been more concerned about my health than she showed and been doing research on her computer.

"These things are nowhere near as simple as I thought when I started looking. All dogs are very similar genetically while looking quite different while sharks and dolphins look similar but are genetically very different. Looking similar to boys when young didn’t mean Venus was a boy and now she been found genetically similar to girls doesn’t make Venus a girl. What is clear is that the doctor was concerned she might develop cancer - surgery for that is very expensive so NHS doctors don’t recommend surgery lightly!"

"Why did you leave when the doctor recommended surgery?"

Mum was asking the question I’d been asking myself ever since that moment I left the doctor’s office. It was only a week since the tennis club but it had been like being swept up in an avalanche. So much had changed.

"He treated me like a boy when I feel like a girl and that made me angry but then he told me I had female bits that he wanted cut out and that made me furious! He told me I could never be a father when I’d never even thought of that but once I heard I had female bits the thought came ……"

"Mum he was wrong about Grandad Joe. What if he was wrong about me? What if I could be a mother?"

“Time for tea?” It was my Da who said that and I wanted to hug him. We went through to the kitchen together putting the kettle on while making up a tray with biscuits. He put his arm round my shoulders and the floodgates opened.

Slowly the tears eased as dad brewed the tea then I laughed. "18 years old! Who’d believe it?"

Back in the lounge mum and Litara had clearly been discussing something and as dad and I passed the mugs and biscuits Litara stood and moved to the fireplace

"There may be some help for all this but to get it will mean doing something you really won’t like. First though I need a question answered…

“Could you, Venus, sail a yacht single-handed to Tahiti?"

“Could you, Venus, sail a yacht single-handed to Tahiti?"

Chapter 11

"What? Why on earth would I do that?"

"Why we will come to later, but for now stick to the simple question" continued Litara.

"Assuming there is a good reason for asking the question," interrupted my father "a lot of people have done just that as all it needs is money, time, good health and luck! Of those I'd say luck is the most important as of those that dream of it most never start and of those that start most never finish."

"I've never even thought of doing something like that." I added "I've sailed with dad and local boat owners in the Bristol Channel , but the only single-handing I've done though is dinghy sailing"

Litara said nothing just looking at me and waiting for an answer.

"I'd have the time if I had the money and until today I thought I had the health so I guess strictly the answer is yes, with luck! Now for goodness sake tell us what all this is about and what it has to do with my health."

"How many different sorts of television documentaries can you list?"

"David Attenborough!" cried mum, whose devotion to Saint David as we teasingly called him around her was one of the few chinks in her emotional armour.

"Science, history, cooking, holiday destinations, politics, people and places, astronomy, like The Sky at Night…" mum, dad and I listed them as fast as we could…

"Enough" Litara broke in. "You get the idea that there are a lot. You know that I make them and from the time I spend away and the time I spend on the phone and computer, you know that making them takes a lot of time and coordination. What you probably didn't think about was that compared to a television soap opera they are often very expensive to produce, very difficult get an audience for and therefore very difficult to get financial backing to make."

"I watch them" I put in "why do you say it is difficult to get an audience?"

"Like most people, you watch the odd one when you happen to notice an advert for one on a particular subject that interests you. Unlike soap operas and the illustrious Saint David's programs, documentary series rarely accumulate a loyal following."

"Imagine if you could combine something with the pulling power of a soap with not one but half a dozen or more different documentary series. Earlier this year we started work on an project to do just that!

On the 8th June 2004 something is happening in Tahiti that is historically interesting and will attract the attention of a lot of people and draw in documentary makers. The plan is to make another documentary covering the sailing of a yacht from Britain to observe that event whilst linking to it as many science, art, wildlife, cultural and other documentaries as possible appropriate to the stops along the way."

"That sounds like a great idea" I rationalised; "but as you say your project is underway and there are any number of famous people or television stars who would jump at the opportunity to do that. You could even have two or more on board"

"That is what I thought, knowing nothing about sailing, but we ran into what seemed insurmountable problems" Litara explained. "Tahiti is about 10,000 miles away which I've been told is about 100 days of ocean sailing in a smallish yacht spread over the two years we want the series to run. Celebrities are expensive! They earn their pay ashore interacting with other people and the world but on a yacht for 100 days? Nobody is interesting enough to anywhere near earn that much pay just sailing!"

I immediately understood. "You've decided to cheat Litara! You want me to sail the long ocean miles for the celebrities without telling anyone that the big names didn't do it!"

"Brilliant little sister! You must have a truly devious mind to work that out so it is such a shame you are wrong. For this to work I'll need to turn YOU into the major focus of a documentary and a celebrity"

Mum, dad and I just sat there stunned, looking at each other and at Litara. How could she think of doing this to her own family? The publicity would be enormous.

"I told you all that you wouldn't like my idea but it does bring the benefit of an immediate, privately paid medical examination resulting in either rejection for the job with payment to you including expenses incurred or a job for up to 4 years with the costs covered of any medical treatment that is found necessary or desirable. The downside is that although we can keep you protected for a while, once the first program is shown in a little less than 2 years from now your circumstances will be known to the whole viewing world."

It seemed an age before Litara continued but continue she did. "I'm not callous or a monster willing to destroy my family to get what I want. The reality is that Venus needs medical treatment and even privately it might be found necessary to follow Dr Edwards' plan to save her life. Also her life is already open to the public and within a short time she will be the subject of gossip, job discrimination, maybe even newspaper slurs and violence."

"You do have alternatives though don't you Litara?" I asked. "There are other suitable people?"

"Without you the project is dead little sister. You were the one who brought me the solution a week ago. The reason is that in June 1769 Captain James Cook observed a planet cross the face of the sun in Tahiti. That didn't happen again until 1874 and 1882. Another 122 years will have passed before it can be seen again on June 8th 2004.

The planet that Captain Cook saw was Venus which why we know the event as The Transit of Venus.

Chapter 12

"Venus! Phone call! It's a man calling for you."

I was only half awake but that was my mother's voice and she'd called me Venus! It hadn't escaped my notice that in the last week not once had my mother called me Venus! Hang on, she said phone!!

"Venus? Are you the girl who gave me her card when we met in the marina , because the card says 'D Williams'."

Think! It was the man who should have left for Bilbao. "Yes that's me. The cards were a special offer bought over the phone and Vee sounds like Dee." I'm going to hell for that I thought, though it isn't actually a lie.

"I have business delays so can't leave until the beginning of September. Are you free then, to sail with us to Bilbao and stop a further two weeks on the yacht to varnish, polish and generally get her into shape. I can offer………"

It is considered rude by some to talk money but I must share that although I would be paid very little for the sailing it did include 'room-and-board' so to speak and for 2 weeks work in Bilbao I'd earn more than anything I'd earned before with travel expenses home also paid.

Back upstairs I went in to see Litara. No decision had been reached last night but life had to go on and I needed something to wear as my work clothes were in the wash. "I'll give you my decision about Tahiti after lunch but for now will you choose something for me to wear? Pretty please?"

40 minutes later I was peeling potatoes for an early bangers, peas and mash with gravy lunch. We were all going to the nursing home that afternoon to visit Grandpa Joe and we needed time beforehand to talk. Mum looked at me while I stood at the sink… "You really are my daughter aren't you? We had 'a moment' it being impossible to deny, even if I had wanted to, when wearing skinny jeans, a pretty loose white embroidered top, my new sandals and with my hair in a high pony tail, a bit of Litara's mascara, my eye being much improved, and lip gloss.

Washing up done and tea poured there could be no more delay. It was my turn at the fireplace and I first told them about my new job as it would take me away for nearly all of September. Then…

"I've decided to fall in with Litara's plan but only if you all agree and will help me. I'm 18 now and responsible for myself but I can't both do this and leave home. If you don't feel you can accept that I think it best if I don't return to this house when I get back from Spain."

A moment later, Isaac, my Da, stood towering beside me at the fireplace as he put his hands on my shoulders and said for all the world to hear, if they could get in our kitchen…

" You are my daughter Venus. While I have a home you have a home with me as long as you need."

There was a delay while mum, Litara and I repaired the damage incurred in our 'group hug' - an awful expression but their appears to be no synonym. With agreement reached Litara also fired off a series of emails she had pre-written - "We have a lot to fit in before you set sail for Bilbao…, Bilbao?" She quickly typed and sent another email.

It was 3:30 when we got to the nursing home and unusually Grandad Joe was in bed but the smile on his face was a wonder to see. Mum sat beside him holding his left hand and he laid his right hand softly on her cheek - it was clear to see in her the little girl she had described as so desperate to please her daddy.

"Will you introduce me to this lovely young lady?" he asked mum.

"This is my daughter. You knew her as Dai but her name is Venus."

Grandad beckoned me to join him on the other side of the bed. As I leant my head toward him he move his right hand from my mother's cheek to mine and drawing me in kissed my cheek then whispered in my ear

"I've always known and have so looked forward to seeing you." Then he let his head gently drop back into the pillow watching me the whole time until his eyes slowly closed for the last time.

Chapter 13

There is never a good time to die, at least for those left behind. Mum had not only been a Daddy's girl but had spent a lot of time with him in his last years so a large gap was left in her life. Her sister, Aunt Sophie, felt guilty for not being there at the end and even I couldn't help but wonder if finding out about me had hastened his death. Feelings most of us have to cope with at different stages in our lives but no less heart felt for that.

Dad, Uncle Jack (Sophie's husband) and Litara took over the running of our lives and they started first thing Sunday morning. Although they grew up with different religions dad took mum to the Methodist Chapel while Litara and I prepared a roast dinner for six, including Jack and Sophie.

"It's strange," she said. " We've known him all of our lives and I know he's gone but I don't miss him in a painful way - maybe because I knew he was ready to go. Dai has gone and I know he's gone but it hurts because I never had a chance to say goodbye to someone who only existed in my imagination"

"That's really deep Sis. Maybe you would rephrase it in interpretive dance "
The towel she'd been drying her hands on hit me full in the face about a second later!

"Right Missy, with you off to Spain there are a lot of things to do in a very short time and one of them is to get you a passport so we are going to do a bit of magic on that eye to make you look human." I'd seen Latira's camera cases on a strictly non-touch basis but never knew what she could do with them - my own was so old it used film.

Working with Litara is odd as for long periods she barely speaks. Making up my face from scratch at least four times she takes hundreds of photos, mostly of just my face, first in her bedroom and then in our parents' room on the other side of the house before finally heading out into the garden for some last shots. Although very few minutes were laid aside to ensure that the meal was ready on time it was nearly 2 hours before she finished declaring "Done." just as our the rest of the family came came back to the house.

The dinner seemed to be greatly appreciated and the mood much better than I expected. When the conversation inevitably got round to my medical results and prospective television appearances my uncle and aunt seemed to take it in their stride concentrating on the fact that the doctor had said I was very fit and I that had a new well paying job. For all that they knew it was a house of cards that might tumble at any moment they chose to look on the bright side for which I was grateful glad they resisted the tempation to give me a Jack Nicholson moment

While I was clearing the carnage left by six unashamed carnivores attacking a Sunday roast dinner Litara disappeared upstairs to 'do a little editing', Mum and Aunt Sophie fell into reminiscing about childhood days holidaying at Tenby up the coast, while Dad and Jack fell to designing the perfect boat to get me safely to Tahiti . For some reason they started at the premiss that it would be easier to plait custard than teach me to repair a diesel engine so I let them get on with it and phoned Serena.

"Come on over, the house is empty and I'm bored." Those are dangerous words when they come from Serena and true to form the first thing she noticed was my shiny, many times cleaned face so she decided it was time for me to learn to do my own makeup but over and over and over again! The only thing that eventually got her to let me stop was telling her I had a television contract as in appearing on rather than selling or mending.

Well I couldn't not tell her as she was my best friend. Suddenly the things I had told her about sailing became interesting. Not the actual sailing of course but maybe for her to fly somewhere exotic to be filmed greeting her 'best friend in the world'. Soon she was away fantasizing about our lives among the rich and famous until I reminded her of my awkward physical predicament that as soon as I appeared on television would become very public knowledge.

A phone call home had alerted my family I would be delayed as Serena and I had a lot of catching up to do and it was midnight before I finally crawled into bed my head buzzing with the swarm of possibilities my changing circumstances had freed

Over breakfast next morning - my life of 'lie-ins' having been consigned to history by my abrupt immersion in the adult world - Latira explained that she had already phoned the solicitor, Mr Davis, for an appointment at 2:00pm as it was necessary to change my name by deed poll as soon as possible. I in turn told her that Serena and I had arranged to go into the city centre together that morning, the news of which prompted Latira to pull out a debit card.

"Treat this as though your life depended on it and keep receipts for absolutely everything you buy!" Latira jotted down the pin number for the card on a piece of paper handing it and the card to me. "Soon you will have your own card and some more money of your own but for now I know you are short of cash but need lots of things. This is not a license to go mad as you will give all the receipts to my accountant and she is eagle-eyed. You know her, Ms Joy Williams CA!"

What happened next? I'm an 18 year old girl just been handed a debit card with a serious amount of cash on it - use your imagination! Or not because the first thing Serena and I did on getting into the city was to call on 'my' cosmetics advisor, Kelly, in Debenhams. My order was already there which should have been impossibly fast but it did mean I had something that suited my skin tone. Serena, at times not the subtlest of girls, casually dropped the fact that I was (not might) be appearing on television.

Kelly went wild and it was so funny to watch - just imagine one of those snooty immaculately turned out receptionists or as was the case here, cosmetics saleswomen revealing her inner overly excited schoolgirl

It turns out that Kelly's cosmetics training had specialised in media work and it is her big ambition to work in the film and television industry. She has lots of ideas she wants to show me and we make a date to meet here next week while at the same time opening my new purchases and giving me a lesson in day makeup for the new 21st century multi-racial woman poised to take over the world.

With a brief stop in Marks and Sparks for more undies - who knew I would need so many - we progressed to the shoe shops which gather, like in all cities, in their own concentrated ghetto. I was girl with special needs having only 2 pairs of shoes and 1 pair of boys' trainers. This was Serena's moment to become serious explaining that I needed to choose shoes to match my wardrobe, which so far amounted to what I could borrow from my sister. Several pairs of black sensible shoes with about 2" heels were tried and one pair selected. Everything was going well until across the width of the shop I spied a bright red pair with 3" heels. They fit and without any idea of what I could wear them with I had to buy them.

"Girl, you are fun to shop with" announced Serena. "just be careful of what you wish for because this is clearly a Dorothy moment .

Maybe I was getting the hang of shopping because on the way to 'our' café I spotted and bought a red blouse that my new shoes matched and it was added to our haul only to be brought out again in the café to be shown to Martina who was on her lunch break

"i get first dibs to borrow that." Martina declared, "but what is the big deal with all this shopping; I thought you were short of cash?" Serena volunteered to give the explanations while I grabbed a quick roll and coffee, made my apologies and shot off to meet Litara at the solicitor's just before 2:00pm.

"You know Mr Davis is mum and dad's solicitor as well as a family friend." explained Litara. " but he also does some work for me and I explained your position to him on the phone this morning. You can trust him to do his best for you."

"Ladies" said Mr Davis, standing as we entered the room. "It is a pleasure to meet you again Venus , and you too of course Litara." Something told me that my big sister carried a lot more weight around here than I had appreciated and she was in fact a favoured client!

"To business. A change of name by usage can easily be formalised by deed poll and formerly your name was, officially, 'David Victor Williams'. Your sister asked your mother what you would have been called if born …… differently …… which name we combined with the name Venus which you are now known by. I understand that neither name was chosen by you and you can choose any name you desire but it would be rather poetically fitting to accept these as a baby has no choice when named." He passed across a sheaf of papers with the chosen name clearly showing and after a short pause I nodded my assent.

"Miss Jones, would you spare us a moment to witness signatures please" said Mr Davis into the intercom. Miss Jones had clearly been waiting outside the door for just that moment and the papers were quickly signed and witnessed.

"Now that formality has been completed we can proceed and if you would sign in your new name here and here the Inland Revenue and National Insurance Office Will be informed of your amended details."

"You have the photos Litara?". With a nod my sister pulled an envelope containing several 45mm x 35mm photos. "If you would sign there your new driving license will soon be with you " he said clipping 2 of the photos to the form.

"Finally we come to your passport application and having seen you I can sign these photos as being a good likeness of you, a person of this name who I know well. If you would finally sign there and there your sister has explained that she will be dealing with this as you need the passport more quickly than bureaucracy and the postal system would normally allow.

At this point I must in all conscience warn you that nothing done here has changed your official gender status and with the law as it stands now in the year 2000, nothing can be done to change it without an act from the House of Lords which would not be passed unless you were to be witnessed giving birth to a child. Sorry I can't offer you more hope than that."

With that we collected a copy of the deed poll, the original of which would be lodged with Mr Davis office where also fortunately were kept our family's details certificates and title deeds, shook hands and left Mr Davis' offices to cross the road to my bank.

Going to the reception desk Litara announced the arrival of Ms Williams to see the manager. This was getting curiouser and curiouser as I had never seen or ever expected to see my bank manager but nevertheless we were ushered straight in to his office.

"This is my sister who is a client of your bank and has changed her name as you can see from this document." passing the papers and turning to me. "Perhaps you would explain to Mr Cameron what you would like and expect from his bank Venus?"

"Umm…" somehow my shell-shocked brain cells managed to hold themselves to stutter out "I have just started two new jobs which involve a great deal of travel and at the same time have changed my name so would like my account details to reflect that change."

"Err… certainly." Mr Cameron appeared as shocked as me! "If you will just give me a few minutes to make a copy of this and arrange a few things…" and he was gone.

Litara looked at me, took my hand and smiled, "Don't look so worried you are doing fine little sister."

Mr Cameron re-entered the room with my deed poll and a couple more papers for me to sign which done he asked one more thing "Do you prefer to be known as Ms or Miss Williams"

"Ms" I reply though I have no idea why.

"Wonderful" he said making a note. "Your new cheque book, deposit book, debit and credit cards will arrive at your house within a week and I hope we can expect a long and happy relationship…" pausing a moment to glance at the papers "Ms Delia Venus Williams."

Chapter 14

As we walked out of the bank I took Litara's arm. "I need somewhere to sit down and quickly before I fall" I whispered in her ear and was promptly steered to a pavement table outside a small Italian-style restaurant. "What you did in there with the bank manager and before that with Mr Davis. I've never seen you like that; in fact I've never seen anyone behave like that!"

Signalling the waiter Litara ordered herself a caffè doppio and, at my request, a pot of tea for me. "Take a look at the people around you." she suggested. "What do you see?"

I looked up and down the street; shoppers, a man cleaning a shop window opposite and the waiter as he appeared with our order. "Just people going about their everyday business."

"And if this were Kabul in Afghanistan?" she prompted.

"Well, I've seen the news and there are still people on the streets but I guess they must be frightened of being shot or blown up."

"You're right as people have to go about their business but in very different circumstances and with many different priorities. Human beings are wonderfully adaptable given time but often don't cope well with sudden changes. We wanted Mr Davis to help us so I pre-warned him what to expect and he seemed to enjoy rising to the challenge. Mr Cameron on the other hand had no grounds for refusing your request so we made sure that he had no time to think of any by 'bulldozing' him. I noticed by the way that when he asked you whether you preferred Miss or Ms you chose Ms - can you explain why?"

"I've no idea." I replied. "Thinking now I might prefer Miss but at the time Ms just felt right"

"I could guess that you picked up on the fact that I used Ms when we entered the bank? There is no real difference but it was good thinking on your feet as now the bank manager will think of you as Ms Williams, a business woman who knows what she wants and expects it rather than young Miss Wiilliams out looking for a favour. It all comes down to preparation and in life you can either be the one who is prepared and rises to challenges or someone unprepared who gets bulldozed flat!"

Sitting at that table on a pleasantly warm summer's day I could feel myself relax, maybe for the first time since my arrival, or maybe that should be 'crash landing', onto the world as Venus. "The people around us, like our waiter, have no idea what we just did, have they?"

"With you there Vee. I remember at the end of a summer break in student days sitting on a train as we approached Cardiff thinking that the other people in the carriage had no idea that 24 hours before I'd just got off a camel and was sharing tea with tuareg tribeswomen.

I woke next morning at 7:00 to prepare breakfast for my family who were all off to work including Litara who was driving to London. "Delia, what are you cooking for us?" called my father from the bathroom. He was a Delia Smith fan and would tease my mother that he was going to run away with Delia.

"You can whistle for it Da, it's cereals for you. I'm 'Venus the Morning Star' and everyone knows, stars don't cook they shine." Nevertheless I continued frying his favourite cholesterol binge of bacon, eggs, mushrooms, tomatoes and fried bread. A case of moderation in everything including healthy eating rules which deserve to be broken once every week so. Mum, Litara and I eat it as well too keep him company in a spirit of solidarity.

"If this voyage goes ahead" said my father to Litara. "I want the contract to supply the yacht. Even if she is legally an adult there is no way I am letting my daughter cross oceans on a yacht chartered to look pretty at the right price by an accountant!"

Listening to my father's tone of voice I winced a little internally at the thought of a confrontation between him, my mother a career accountantant and Litara, but it became apparent that Litara was more than ready for him.

"You are not going to get away with just supplying the boat because you are going to be on television dad! Two of the documentary threads want to use the the boat as a focus for modern technology and sustainability, both of which apply to your designs and you have the bonus of being visibly part Polynesian to provide a link to Tahiti. Beside that, as I'm sure Mum will verify, using you will save the production company money!" My sister really doesn't play fair as after his original assertion and with Mum sitting opposite Dad could hardly turn down Litara's demands.

7:45 came round and the family started heading for the door. "By the time I get to London I hope to have details on when your next doctor's appointment is scheduled. When that happens it will mean you stopping overnight with me so you might like to think if there is anything special you'd like to do while in London - beside shopping that is." Litara said as she and Dad went out the door to be followed soon after by Mum who kissed me on the cheek as she left

By 08:30 I had to house to myself and headed for the bath. Americans are such a deprived nation with their showers I thought laying back and luxuriating in stolen smellies. A shower is what you have after your bath! A careful inspection showed that my body hair wasn't a problem yet but I didn't fancy having to shave it regularly.

Reaching out of the bath I dried a hand and texted Serena: BODY HAIR OPTIONS?
30 minutes later having as I dried off the answer came: SHAVE CREAM WAX EPILATOR
My reply: WHAT IS EPILATOR?
Serena: BUY IN BOOTS LOL

With all that had been going on I hadn't been to the marina over the weekend which was the best time to find boat owners with paying work to be done so I pedalled there with little hope. When I arrived though an oldish man with a tow truck was backing a pretty little wooden yacht on a trailer down the ramp into the water. Two hours later we, his name was Bill, had launched the yacht, raised the mast upright and motored to a marina slip and it had been fun! Maybe he was special or maybe it was because I was being treated as a girl to be encouraged rather than a boy to be controlled but we made a good team. Chatting in the cockpit afterwards it turned out he knew my father and he offered me a sail and return next day to Clevedon (in that foreign country, England, 12 miles across the estuary). Still having hopes of finding work I couldn't promise to be available but before I rode on to Dad's yard Bill and I arranged to talk on the phone that evening to settle things.

No work there either but when I told him about my time with Bill and the offer he was delighted. "You'll learn more in a day sailing with Bill than a month with me or doing courses and that 'pretty little boat' as you call it has sailed more ocean miles than any other yacht on this coast."

With no work in sight and my Da's recommendation it looked as though tomorrow was taken care of so I rode first to Boots the Chemists to look at and maybe, depending on how good the description sounded, buy an epilator. Afterward with my new epilator in my bag I rode on to the tennis club to meet Serena.

"Delia Venus, Delia Venus, …." chanted Serena in the changing room.

"Yes Delia Venus but don't go teasing me with it or everyone will hear you are Serena Gladys!" Beside you'll attract attention and I'm not sure I should be changing in the women's rooms."

"Rubbish! With the way you keep your dodgy plumbing tucked away even if you were nude someone would have to look very closely. Anyway if your paperwork is changed what is there for them to complain about?"

"My birth certificate still says male and always will according to the solicitor and my dodgy plumbing as you put it may be tucked but it isn't so tiny they wouldn't see it."

We took out our aggression on the tennis court and an hour later came off drenched in perspiration after the best workout we'd had all summer. That pleased Serena no end as she had lost her County match last Saturday and her confidence had taken a battering.

"As my bicycle is here and I have to ride it home I'll leave my shower until I get there. Maybe afterwards I'll even try the epilator you told me about," I said showing her the new box.

35 minutes later I was standing nude in my bedroom; instructions in one hand and epilator in the other…
Why had Serena written in her text: - LOL

Chapter 15

Reveille

Why am I surrounded by sadists? My uncle Jack's novelty Reveille playing alarm clock had seemed amusing when he gave it as a present last Christmas but I must find an alternatve!

Luckily it was a beautiful morning as at 6:00 am I entered the marina and locking my bicycle headed down to Bill's Vertue , Molly. In my bag was a large thermos of tea, two still-frozen pasties, sandwiches and fruit - when I'd talked to Bill on the phone early yesterday evening to accept his offer of a sail, food was mentioned and I didn't want to be stingey.

Bill had slept aboard and was still enjoying a large mug of something resembling tar as he lay out the chart and described his plan. The forecast was sun with a gentle to moderate breeze and the tide ebbing. Further up the estuary where it became a tidal river, cameras would be running later today hoping to catch surfers on the famous Severn Bore but here the problem was working with the well over 40 foot tides and resulting strong currents that caused the bore. We were leaving now as any later and there would be too little depth to get out of the marina but that gave us enough hours to sail twice cross the estuary before the next falling tide would prevent us getting back in.

Bill started the engine before I cast off the lines and jumped back aboard. I knew from sailing with others that yachts don't steer well going astern so could appreciate Bill's deft maneuvering as we left the slip and motored to the lock which enabled us to drop from the level of the marina to the level of the estuary.

As soon as we were in clear water Bill put me on the tiller to steer toward a buoy he pointed out then pulled out the chart to show me how our steered course, shown by the compass in front of me, corresponded to the course, as shown on the chart, from our position just off the marina to a channel buoy symbol. "It's amazing how often people hold true to a course that a few moments thought would show to be in entirely the wrong direction."

With that he moved forward in a way that showed great familiarity with the boat to raise the mainsail. Watching him from where I steered I wondered was Bill referring to sailing or talking in aphorisms?

With the mainsail up and trimmed to the wind direction he allowed the foresail to unfurl from its roller and as he tightened the sheet Molly heeled to the task with a will seemingly delighted to be free of her shore chains.

With the buoy approaching Bill took the tiller and pointing to the plotter (a rectangle of transparent but marked plastic, with a turning transparent compass disc attached ), and asked me to measure the heading to the next buoy shown on the course he had marked out for the day. I lay the centreline marked on the rectangle along our desired route on the chart and span the disc until its north aligned with the north of the grid on the chart, reading off to Bill the angle between the two."Almost" said Bill bringing Molly to a course close to the one I'd read off. "Trim the sails and I'll show you what you missed."

Sail trimming I knew about from dinghy sailing and I enjoyed adjusting them to get the best speed. While I was doing that Bill adjusted a windvane connected through a series of pulleys and cables to the tiller until he could release the tiller and Molly steered herself. "Molly is female" he said, "and steers herself better than any man can."

That done he showed me on the chart and plotter that there was a difference between the north shown on the chart and north as read off a magnetic compass. "Here in Cardiff in the year 2000 the compass reads about 2° higher than the true bearing but in different places and times there can be quite a variation so always check where you are before setting your compass course."

By this time I was absolutely sure Bill knew exactly what he was doing with his 'pearls of wisdom' but I refused to be phased by it. Last night I had been pleased with the results from the epilator (although it did hurt a bit doing my armpits) so I had raided Litara's cupboard to enjoy the benefit.

The sailing was wonderful and, by playing the tidal currents, at mid-day we were anchored off Clevedon enjoying our lunch, including the pasties I heated in the ship's stove, and watching the antics of the holiday makers brought into Clevedon Pier by M/V Balmoral.

"It's getting hot. You don't mind if I strip off, do you Bill?"

It wasn't a question as I immediately took off my light waterproof trousers to reveal beneath a pair of skin tight cutoff denim shorts. Turning my back and bending, so my shorts clad backside was no greater distance from Bill's nose than the couple of feet the small cockpit allowed, I then slipped my sweat shirt up over my head and turned round toward him revealing… Well a B-cup isn't that big but the hot orange bikini top I had borrowed did its magnificent best to maximise my assets and it clashed wonderfully with Bill's deeply blushing face.

"I suppose I deserved that lass." Bill admitted. I realised who you must be as soon as you told me Isaac was your father but I clearly hadn't appreciated that Isaac's youngest was such a canny as well as beautiful daughter. Then his face broke into the broadest grin imaginable and I started laughing.

All the way home to Cardiff we teased each other but it was only after we had made arrangements to sail together again and I had unlocked my bike that turning back for a last wave, I realised who this strange old Scottish man brought to mind…

Grandad Joe

Chapter 16

I got back to my house from sailing at just the same time Serena pulled up in her car on the other side of the road

"Fancy a swim Vee?" Serena called, and I couldn't think of a better way of ending the day. As a property developer Serena's father had been doing very well out of a property boom and his house sported all the latest gadgets and a hedge-surrounded swimming pool in the back garden.

While Serena went upstairs to put on a swimming costume I went through the house to the back garden only to find everyone and their dog had beaten me to it. The whole gang, even those like Martina who must have come straight from work, were lounging or swimming.

With just Serena there I would have risked stripping down to the bikini I still had on under sweatshirt and shorts. In such a crowd however I didn't feel comfortable risking a bulge or spillage showing through the bikini bottom so I just took off my sweatshirt, lay my towel on the grass and relaxed trying to ignore the fact that the boys were staring at those protuberances which so far they had only seen by inference under other clothing!

"How did the sail go?" Gareth and Andy had decided to join me on the grass.

"Great, we got to Clevedon, across the estuary, and back."

"Sounds wonderful. Andy and I were just discussing… Now that we've found out you are on the other side… We were wondering if… Wondering if you've ever been kissed and if not whether you'd like me to be first?"

"What!" I was immediately on my feet looking down on them as they struggled to rise while laughing.

"Come on Venus, you know you want to. There has always been this unspoken thing between us…" Gareth really does believe he's god's gift to women and in fairness I doubt he has ever been turned down.

"Now!!!" While I was dithering, wondering how to get out of this situation the two boys rushed forward and one either side swept their arms round my waist and ran the three off us straight into the swimming pool.

"You bastards!" I spluttered surfacing only to become aware that Martina, Evan, Serena and George, Gwen and Jenny were all around looking in danger of doing themselves damage from laughing so much.

"I'll get you for this!" I shrieked, spotting Gareth surface beside me and with that leapt on him kissing him square on the lips!

For a second, two seconds… nothing happened then all those who had been standing on the poolside crashed into the water beside us as 'oh so cool' 18 year old behaviour dissolved into a group of oversized children splashing and squealing.

What's happening to me? It's one thing to accept that I'm a woman; that fits somehow. Today though was more than that. I'd deliberately taunted Bill. I'd been shrieking like a schoolgirl and of all things I'd kissed Gareth!

"Dai?" I opened my eyes where I lay on a lounger enjoying the last of the sun. It was Mrs Johnson, Serena's mother. "I think you had better go home."

I'd never felt relaxed around the Johnson's other than Serena but she never got to chose her parents so we all co-existed in a strained yet polite atmosphere.

"It is Venus now," Mrs Johnson. "Delia Venus Williams." I said gathering up my abandoned shorts and towel to hold in front of me.

"Whatever you say but I suggest you put on your clothes and leave."

The others took that as a signal to leave as well which somewhat defused the situation and 5 minutes later we were outside in the road making arrangements to meet at the weekend.

Despite my shock from Mrs Johnson's attitude the evening at home was relaxed. Litara rang with my new doctor's appointment time next Monday afternoon and asking me to call in at the solicitors and sign another piece of paper but all was winding down when Serena phoned.

"Speak up See, I can't hear you."

"It's my parents; I've just heard them talking and it means trouble for you."

"How do you mean trouble? I'm nothing to do with them"

"It isn't just you, it's your family and your house. Dad wants your house because with its location he can make money by enlarging it to attract a more upmarket buyer."

"That is up to my parents. I don't think they want to move but your father can make an offer."

"My parents don't think like that. You know they are snobbish and you can probably guess your mixed race family offends their sensibilities, but they are just out of step with the times there.

It's the sex-change thing. I tried to explain why you look like you do but they have it in their minds that if they can bring some bad publicity down on you it will make your family want to move away in a hurry and they can buy the property cheaply by pretending to be good neighbours offering to lend a helping hand.

Chapter 17

"Thank you so much for warning me Serena. What will happen if your parents find out that you told me their plan?"

"There is no if about it! I'm telling them to their face what I think of their behaviour."

"Don't do that yet Serena because I think this may affect Litara's documentary plans and I'd like to pre-warn her. I'll call her now and get straight back to you."

Strangely Litara wasn't surprised by the news of the Johnson's scheming. "Prejudice and money go hand in hand each justifying the other. The difficulty here is that Serena is your best friend at the moment but her parents for good or ill are with her for life. If I find a way of stopping them when I come for Grandad Joe's funeral on Friday it will probably cost you Serena's friendship.

I phoned Serena back and shared Latira's thoughts. "I don't want our friendship to be the loser because of you overhearing your parents so lets sleep on it and talk again tomorrow.

'Let's sleep on it' had been a throwaway line but next morning the solution was clear in my mind. I immediately rang Serena filling her in on my plan and she agreed to prepare the ground and arrange a meeting for 6:00 pm next day between her parents and me about a big career opportunity for Serena.

No big fry up for breakfast today but my more usual muesli and yogurt plus anything not nailed down would keep me from fainting for a few hours. The first call I had to make was to Mr Davis, office and I thought I had this fashion thing well in hand picking a suitable outfit until I realised I matched almost exactly in style, Ms Jones his secretary. My makeup on the other hand was not 'Miss Jones'. The new nude lip colour Kelly had talked me into buying looked invitingly kissable and the whites of my eyes seemed to shine out dangerously in relief to the eyeshadow and liner.

No bicycle this morning as the rather tight business suit wouldn't allow it. Why does the heroine in books never have to catch the bus like me? There are advantages to the bus though and if that man opposite were to…… "Down girl!" I said to myself. This is becoming most confusing.

The bus filled as it approached the city centre until " 'What the hell!' " It had never occurred to me that a tightly clad female rear was an irresistible temptation to some men!

In the solicitors office I'm sure Miss Jones gave me a look of approval. It appeared there was no need to see Mr Davis as all that was required was my signature on what appeared to be an Immigration Application. I queried that but was told that there hadn't been a mistake and it was a necessary formality.

The library was next on my 'to do' list where I gathered and practiced with my armoury for this evening's engagement with the Johnsons. There were two boys filling out job applications across the room and I wondered what their idea of a good job or career was. I never seemed short of work but at the cost of much hustling and the thought of a secure position was inviting until I imagined 5, 10, 20 years doing the same thing day after day.

Why does life have to swing so wildly I thought 2 hours later, wandering through the city's shopping area, between being rushed off my feet and nothing to do? How would I cope for long periods alone at sea?

Time does pass though and being the one with free time today meant I could buy a fresh chicken and back at home have it ready to put in the oven and vegetables prepared for an evening meal when my parents got home (there are just so many salads you can serve a man built like my father). Time to freshen up. I kept with the suit, thanking my lucky stars that Litara and I were the same size and looking at the label
http://www.bluesuitsonline.com/custom-made-womens-business-s...
but changed my blouse and added just a dab of the perfume I'd bought from Kelly in town.

Mum got in at 5:30 and I explained that I had just put the chicken in the oven and would she put the carrots on at 6:15 and the parboiled potatoes around the chicken at the same time then it was time to march across the road to meet my dragon.

I'd barely pushed the bell when Mr Johnson opened the door and ushered me into the front room where Serena and her mother were already waiting. It felt as though Mrs Johnson was dissecting my appearance with a scalpel but regardless I dove into my pitch.

"I know Serena has told you a little of my physical situation so please let me explain how this affects her. I have been engaged by a television documentary producer to help create a series at the heart of which is the story of my own life and an upcoming voyage under sail to Tahiti. My family background is perfect for them as on one side my grandmother is related to the Royal Family and on the other my late grandfather had a distinguished career in the British Army - perhaps you've heard of the battle of Imjun River, in the Korean war † which was the bloodiest battle fought by the British Army since WWII and for which two Victoria Crosses were awarded.

Well the film producers also want to highlight the life-saving part played by Serena in recognising my medical condition and rushing me to the hospital where she insisted, despite their protests, that they examine me and so found that I had the XX chromosomes of a woman instead of the XY of a man.

The difficulty arises because Serena does not wish to appear in the programme without your permission as it is likely to make her rather well known. I must ask you therefore to please give permission for Serena to appear?"

I think Litara would have approved of my effort. With no pre-warning of the line I would take they were left, I hoped, with no alternative but to give permission and side with Royalty, a war hero and a life-saving daughter. Once they they had given that permission any harm they caused my family would also harm Serena and themselves. I couldn't stop them being prejudiced snobs but I could use that to my own advantage.

"Surely you know you didn't have to ask Venus," gushed Mrs Johnson. "We wouldn't dream of standing in Serena's way. I do love that suit by the way. You must tell me where you had it made…"

"New York Mrs Johnson. I'll get you the address but must go now as I'm expected for dinner.

Serena joined me to walk across the road. "Just how much of the story you told my parents was true?"

"It was all true of course although I may have phrased it in a way that made it easy for them to misinterpret. My grandmother is related to the royal family; the Samoam royal family that is, also my grandfather served in Korea, just not at Imjin River and without a VC. The last part is true in that you may have saved my life although according to Dr Edwards my XX chromosomes don't mean I'm female.

That evening after letting Litara know about my meeting with the Johnsons I rang to confirm a meeting next day about the upcoming trip to Bilboa. With the funeral coming up and time in London next week there wasn't much free time between now and our departure.

"Venus. I'm glad you called now as I've heard some disturbing talk about you…"

† Almost 100,000 British troops fought in Korea in a conflict as bloody as any seen before or since yet many consider it the war Britain has forgotten.
In 1951, 600 soldiers of the British Army took on a force of 30,000 Chinese troops crossing the Imjin River in Korea.
At the end of the battle 10,000 Chinese troops had fallen. British losses stood at just 59, but only 39 of the survivors evaded capture.
Two Victoria Crosses, Britain's highest military honour, were awarded for the action. But despite such heroism, Britain's role in the conflict has largely been forgotten by the public.

Chapter 18

No alarm clock. No alarm clock and I'm awake! Thursday morning with no appointments, no alarm clock and I'm awake!! What is happening to me?

"Make the most of it girl!" I say out loud to myself putting the radio on and heading for the bathroom. Have you any idea how embarrassing it is to catch yourself with toothbrush in hand pretending it's a microphone, performing and singing along to Christina Aguilera's Genie in a Bottle.

It is particularly embarrassing when the moment of self awareness is accompanied by the awareness of one's mother leaning in the doorway watching!

"A year ago" she started, "I was watching you wondering when you'd start showing an interest in girls. Now… . Is there anything you'd like to tell me sweetie?"

"Boundaries mother! Boundaries!"

As I planned to go to the marina I went down to breakfast wearing what had become my favourite cut-off shorts, a yellow top and my wedge-heeled sandals.

"No daughter of mine is going out dressed like that!" thundered my father.

"What's wrong with the way I'm dressed?"

"Nothing, I just wanted to say it." he chuckled spreading marmalade thickly on his toast. "Remembering that your sister never took any notice of my advice, you might want to consider a bra under that top."

Glancing down, the sight of a pair of headlights illustrated his point and I ran back upstairs to chose a bra on which mum showed me how to reclip the straps so they wouldn't show.

A camel is sometimes lightly loaded compared to my bicycle. To be accurate it is my mother's bought in a moments fitness enthusiasm and only ridden twice by her but with a small rucksack, the bike's panniers and basket I might be less than streamlined but I was equipped and provisioned to take on most eventualities.

First stop was at Dad's yard where I had agreed to replace the lifelines on a yacht.

It wasn't skilled work as I simply unscrewed them from their tensioning turnbuckles at their pushpit and pulpit ends, coiled them up and pedalled with them to the riggers for replacement.

"I was wondering when you'd turn up," said Ian, the rigger who I'd known since childhood. "You've been the main topic of conversation for days but as for me, I didn't even know you were gay."

"Seems to me I'm not gay, just a tomboy who grew up too much to carry on pretending she was a boy."

"Do you mean that's all you?" he smiled nodding toward my breasts.

"All me and all homegrown," I answered, "but enough of the chat Ian; me Da's waiting for me to bring back the lifelines if you could do them now."

"Ready in 2 hours and a discount for a kiss"

"OK, 2 hours it is and I'll ask me Da if he's interested in giving you a kiss." and with that I was back on my bicycle and off.

With time on my hand I cycled to the marina for a look at the yacht headed for Bilbao, a Swan 50 named Blue Horizon.

The boat was there but nobody was aboard so I wandered over to where Bill was splicing rope to a length of chain.

"Shall I put the kettle on for tea Bill?"

"What with me being a Scot and Scots being famously mean you dare to ask? Aye, go on with you, but be sure to put two bags in my mug."

Sitting and chatting in the cabin a few minutes later, over tea and the biscuits I'd brought with me, I asked about Blue Horizon.

"A nice boat but almost too big for a couple to handle which is why they have a 2-masted ketch rig. Smaller individual sails but more of them. Expensive boat too with a lot of maintenance."

"You talk as though you know the owner? I only saw him once, here when he asked me to crew to Bilbao. We're supposed to be meeting in the marina bar this evening at 5:30 and originally it was to arrange details On the phone last night though he made it clear the talk he had heard about me was making him reconsider"

"Well good luck with that. I've been on Blue Horizon but mainly know Alistair Dougan through business which is dull. On the other hand to change the subject I've got something interesting to show you." with that he pulled a square wooden box from under the chart table and revealed inside what even I recognised as a sextant.

For the next hour we were up on deck as Bill showed me the intricacies of the sextant and how it measured the angle between what the telescope was pointed at and whatever object was reflected onto a half-mirror in front of the telescope. Trying it with the sextant held horizontally for example I could see both the bow of Blue Horizon through one transparent part of the half-mirror and my bicycle reflected onto the other reflecting part of the half-mirror at the same time even though they were 50° apart.

"Oh my bike!" I exclaimed. "Sorry Bill but I got carried away and I must scoot off. Thank you for the tea and lesson."

"How about we meet in the marina bar at 5:00 before you meet Alistair. I've got a book I'd like to show you."

"Yes, I'd enjoy that Bill. Thank you again but must run now." with that gathering my things and sprinting up the dock.

So much to do and so little time. Collecting the new lifelines, pedalling back to Dad's yard then fitting them took three hours so it was 2:45 when Dad asked the inevitable. "I've just got a few circuit boards need making up before you leave?"

Dad designs and builds custom electronics while I have the mathematical and scientific understanding of a gibbon. What I can do is build from a diagram, solder and test one of his circuits about three times as fast as he can. I make sure I get well paid for that ability so at 5:00pm was feeling financially flush when I joined Bill in the bar.

"You take these to a table and I'll get the drinks in lass." Bill instructed; passing me his sextant box, with a book perched on top. I wasn't asked what I wanted but he reappeared with a pint of beer a whisky and a glass of wine along with two bowls of bar nibbles. The wine was placed in front of me and for once I was smart enough to keep my mouth shut. The book was Celestial Navigation for Yachtsmen by Mary Blewitt and he wanted me to take it and the sextant home with me to practice.

"With modern satellite navigation there is no need for a sextant any more but there is nothing like it for getting in touch with the sea and the skies. Polynesians like your grandmother populated the whole Pacific sailing from island to island with no more than that feel for the sea and a knowledge of the stars. The Tahitian Goddess Taonoui was mother of Fati, the moon god, and of all the stars… "

"Ah Alistair!" Bill called out as, unnoticed by me, Blue Horizon's owner had entered the bar and was approaching my back. Venus told me she was meeting you here but please let me formally introduce you. Venus, this is Alistair Dougan who manages my properties in Wales and Alistair this is Venus Williams my lovely granddaughter.

Chapter 19

There is an often used metaphor, 'a fish out of water', to describe a person in an unfamiliar environment. Less usually is it used to describe literally the appearance of an Alistair Dougan figure whose mouth was opening and closing but with no sound apparent.

"Grandad, would you be kind enough to get Mr Dougan a drink? What would you like Mr Dougan?"

My mind was racing. Much as I appreciated Bill siding so dramatically with me I didn't want to spend day after day cooped up on a boat with a man seething with resentment. While Bill went to the bar to get a lager I jumped in with both feet.

"You've heard that I'm a boy, that I'm a homosexual or that I'm a transsexual and my grandfather knows that you've heard that. As far as I am concerned I'm a girl with medical issues but if that is a problem for you let me know now and I will politely decline your offer to sail with you."

Alistair Dougan looked at me with such intensity I felt naked. "You've got balls girl, and I like that! If your 'medical issues' don't mean you will die on us and you can put up with my wife and myself, I'd love to have you sail to Bilbao with us. And by the way, when I said 'balls' I didn't mean balls I meant spunk. No, no I didn't mean spunk I meant……"

It was too late as I had already cracked up with laughter and Bill came back to find me with tears streaming down my face and Alistair red-faced to the extreme.

"Don't hit him! Don't hit him Grandpa! He's just a man with his foot in his mouth who meant no harm."

It's different for girls! For the next hour Bill and Alistair swayed between competing for my attention and talking over me as though I were a child. They did argue a lot about boats and equipment but the upshot was that on the voyage to Bilbao Alistair was going to introduce me to the wonders of modern chart plotters (like a car satnav but with depths on a chart instead of roads) while I was promised time to take and calculate regular sextant sights using the sun, moon, stars and planets.

The drinks flowed freely but confusingly I wasn't allowed to pay for any of them - something I knew that happened but had not considered how it felt to other girls. At some point between drinks Alistair phoned his wife suggesting that now was a good opportunity to meet their new crew and, casually, that he might be slightly over the alcohol limit to drive home.

That is how I met Jill Dougan, Alistair's wife, and it was clear from the outset that while she knew the talk about me she simply didn't care. There was only room for one queen bee and it wasn't going to be me. That said she was very intelligent and knowledgeable about the Guggenheim Museum in Bilbao built by Frank Gehry so I asked her advice on the best book I could get to learn more. That seemed to ease the atmosphere and by the time we left the bar, an evening that started with very poor prospects finished with Jill holding my arm as we followed the men giggling at the sight of Bill and Alistair's very careful efforts to walk straight.

Friday morning I woke with a hangover and the sky was overcast. Grandad Joe's was to be my first funeral and my life's film director seemed to want all the expected elements. What I was supposed to feel nobody had told me. What I did feel was confused and embarrassed lest I let him down in the eyes of his old army and work friends who I'd heard were expected.

We had breakfast late when Litara arrived having driven direct from London. Mum was red-eyed just picking at her cereal and Dad, I noticed, touched her frequently. For all that the usual necessary processes of eating , washing, picking clothes and dressing pushed us into the day whether we wanted it or not. As organised as ever Litara suggested a slightly longer skirt than I had pick and while in London, as an alternative to the traditional black hat for a funeral, had bought me a black flower barrette. By the time the car came to pick us up I was feeling better and even Mum's face had lightened.

There were more people at the crematorium than I expected but looking around the chapel I had no idea who many of them were. A man I had never met but Mum seemed to know stood and said he and Joe served in North Africa together and Joe had saved his life in Korea. Doing my sums I realised Mum was already at school by that year. There was so much history in the lives around me I had no idea of.

After the service and the internment of the ashes our car took us, followed by a lot of other cars, to a pub Joe had regularly used and where Mum had arranged a buffet for everyone. Buying drinks and piling plates high with food seemed to quickly relax everyone so Litara and I set about doing the rounds.

First were our cousins by way of Aunt Sophie and Jack. They had all been pre-warned about me and the two boys took it cooly, Cousin Elizabeth on the other hand thought it an hilarious way of gaining a female relative to dump her own kids on.

"There's no free lunch Beth." I replied. "What makes you think I won't dump my kids on you. I think I'll adopt a dozen or so just for that."

Leaving my cousins arguing about how many if any kids was the right number we moved on to a very old woman in a wheelchair who turned out to be Joe's sister-in-law. That made her the closest person to my late grandmother I had but then I'd hardly met that grandmother before she died and I only knew her face from photos. Again she had been driven here some distance by her middle aged children I never knew existed. The idea that I knew my family was taking a battering.

On the other side of the room around a table together Joe's army friends had gathered along with, unexpectedly, Grandma Tina who was laughing. It looked as though Grandma Tina and Grandpa Joe had known each other even before my parents were married. Beside Grandma Tina with his back to me was… Bill?

Chapter 20

9 am on Saturday What do I need for 4 days in London? Litara has arranged to borrow a friend's flat while they are away. My case is open in front of me and then it hits me what is missing.

"Litara? Sister sweetie?"

"What can you possibly want you don't already have?

"You're going to be working all day Monday and Tuesday while I'm seeing the doctor, or sights you've probably already seen…?"

"You'd better go and ask her if she wants to come then!"

10 am on Saturday Serena and I are going through her clothes deciding what to take to London. She might not have the top end clothes I have available to borrow from Litara but she does have a wealthy father and the willingness to part him from that money so the options are extensive. As her case fills my mind wanders.

"Serena, those round the world non-stop sailors… How many pairs of knickers do you think they take?" A pair of the said item promptly and grossly hit me in the face.

11 am on Saturday I'm sitting on Serena's bed, her arms comforting me, bawling my eyes out.

Throughout the preparations for the drive to London on Sunday morning I lived on emotional rollercoaster.

"What if my grandfather wasn't Malcolm Williams? What if it was Bill! My Da idolised his father and it would destroy him to find Malcolm wasn't his real father at all." I sobbed having had to tell Serena the story of my meeting Bill and how I'd been so grateful for his help in calling me his 'granddaughter' only to find at the funeral that what I'd taken as a friend's useful fib might have been more true than I thought possible.

As well as packing on Saturday I had, without showing my suspicions, probed my father about his relationship with Bill and it wasn't good. Bill had been there throughout his life, albeit with large gaps, even investing so as to enable Da to acquire yard space for his growing boat and electronics design business.

Nothing was certain though and one of my saving graces might be a naïve optimism that everything works for the best in the end. On Sunday Serena joined my family for an early lunch during which I had to promise several times to call home when we got to London, when I'd seen the doctor, when I got results… My Da indeed at one stage suggested it would have been a good idea if they too had joined us in London but my mother teased him about his having issue's about 'letting go' of his darling daughters.

At the off Serena joined Litara in the front of her Toyota Land Cruiser, which I described as a Chelsea Tractor but she insisted was a business necessity from which I was free to leave and walk. In the back I had my guitar and before too long Serena was co-opted into our group singing I'm So Excited.

With a halfway stop to stretch our legs, we made good time to the borrowed flat and I was becoming ever more impressed by my big sister's contacts. Why she so often, at the age of 28, still regularly stops with us in Wales I don't understand, but I've always been grateful that she does and if it carries the bonus that she can arrange something like this…!

"Stop gawping and go get washed and changed. You have a Drury Lane Theatre appointment and as your chauffeuse I suggest we leave by 6:30 pm." Litara was standing waving a pair of what looked like tickets at us.

I was still in shock when the curtain rose at The Drury Lane Theatre. Latira had given us only an hour to prepare so maybe it was her fault that my choice had been to wear what turned out to be her favourite 'little black dress'. "Stain it and you're dead" she said but at the same time she passed me a red silk shawl to match the red shoes I'd chosen to wear with the dress, after their impulse buy in Cardiff so recently.

Showing was a stage version of 'The Witches of Eastwick' for which Litara had acquired tickets for me and her. "I've already seen it and have better things to do than watch it again." she explained. "If Serena wishes to use the ticket instead of me…?" Thus it was Serena nervously pressing my hand as the rising curtain revealed appropriately Waiting for the Music to Begin.

We had to make our own way home and maybe weren't dressed sensibly for the train but pretending we did this sort of thing all the time and never sitting to avoid a seat marking my dress, a little over an hour after the final curtain we were standing once more with Litara, this time on the balcony.

"You know" I said looking out over the Thames from the Victoria Dock apartment. "I could very easily get used to this life.

Chapter 21

There was no breakfast for me on Monday morning as the Doctor I was scheduled to see (arranged through Litara's company) wanted me to attend a clinic for more tests. Of course Serena couldn't resist offering me a little hot buttered toast to wind me up but I think Litara recognised that I was nervous about the whole thing.

Serena and I wanted to make the most of our London visit so, with big sister's advice and local knowledge, we headed on the Docklands Light Railway toward the new Tate Modern building. The sight of the nearby new but soon 'closed for modification' Millenium Wobbly Bridge was a salutary reminder that experts can get things very wrong and I was determined that today's medical expert wasn't going to push me about. Although I'd seen it on the television, in real life I was blown away by the London Eye, a ferris wheel sitting out over the river with legs on only one side. The queues were too long for us to have a ride but we did get tickets for the next day.

Once in the Turbine Hall of the Tate Modern Art Museum we were immediately drawn to Louise Bourgeois's massive sculpture, Maman . I don't know what this huge spider with its clutch of eggs suspended above our heads was meant to represent but for me it was an alternative if chilling view of motherhood.

My father had suggested I take a look at some paintings of Tahiti by Paul Gaugin but it seems we were in the wrong building on the wrong side of the river and having seen photos in a college library book I wasn't disappointed to miss them. Grandma Tina was my idea of a Polynesian woman and much more dramatic and lively than anyone Gaugin had ever painted. Then again there was her possible relationship with Bill so how well did I really know her?

With the time for my appointment fast approaching I offered to meet Serena back at the flat so she could see more but she would have none of it and the two of us headed by tube to the clinic near Harley Street. Money talks! The contrast between my welcome at the clinic's reception area and that at an NHS hospital couldn't have been greater but I was soon flat on my back in a hospital gown going through a scanner and unable to appreciate the decor. My new doctor, a Mr Charles Pitt (I now warrant both a consultant and a first name) had greeted me in the imaging department and explained that having read the details of my examination sent from Cardiff he would like first an MRI scan. Lying still for over 20 minutes was more difficult than I imagined but that wasn't the end of it!

On my back once more Charles, as he liked to be called, having examined the MRI results wanted a biopsy, or rather two! This meant that having received two anaesthetic injections, one in my groin and one a handspan higher and to my left, guided by an ultrasound scanner, he inserted large needles impossibly deep to take tissue samples. In addition, during a slight hiatus in the proceedings between scans, a nurse had taken more blood and a swab from my mouth. By the time Charles finished I was feeling thoroughly 'done'.

"At the moment I can't add to what you've already been told" apologised Mr Pitt as I sat on the edge of the table, "but I am not so sure that surgery is the best route which is why I took the biopsies. We have an appointment to meet tomorrow at 4 pm at my Harley Street office and hopefully I will be able to tell you more there. Until then it has been interesting to meet you."

Interesting? 'What does that mean?' I thought as I got dressed. Serena had been waiting in reception and caught the concern on my face. "You need food" she diagnosed correctly and we left to find a takeaway.

My first instinct was to gorge on comforting carbohydrates but I wanted to do a special meal for Litara so we compromised and sneaked supermarket pre-made macaroni salads into a cinema to eat while watching Leonardo DiCaprio in 'The Beach' discover the truth about paradise and parallel realities

A wonder of London is you can get anything and while fish shops are closed on Mondays I managed to find an alternative and two bottles of a nice Muscadet on the way home. Even with Litara not due in from work until 8 pm I was cutting things fine but with Serena's help that evening the three of us sat on the balcony overlooking the river to dine in style on grilled langouste served with rice and sauce chien - once I reassured them it was nothing to do with dogs.

Litara was fascinated with my description of the use of the scanners but worried that the biopsies meant the doctor was looking for something seriously wrong so suggested I not mention that part to mum when I phoned. That was my sister being about as subtle as a sledge hammer reminding me it was time to call which I did at 10 pm when mum and dad's favourite television programme would have just finished.

Nobody tells their parents everything and I'm no exception. I gave a few reassuring medical details and a lot of description of things we'd seen around London. When finally I rejoined the others at the table I said…

"It seems nothing ever happens in Wales but there is a lot of mail for Ms D V Williams!"

Chapter 22

Breakfast on Tuesday was curtesy of my 'break the healthy eating habit' rule and although I say it myself rather nice bacon and mushroom omelettes with grilled tomatoes. It was part of my sneaky plan to make Litara want to invite me back.

Serena and I planned our day carefully as tonight would be our last in this luxurious apartment before catching the coach back to Cardiff on Wednesday morning. We were going to do some serious touristing on a jump-on-jump-off open-topped double-decker bus tour . I know at 18 I should be too old or too young to enjoy that sort of thing but it sounded like fun.

What I didn't expect was for Serena and I to find ourselves in the company of four 18 year old American boys doing a dash round Europe. I mean Evan, George and Andy back in Cardiff were 18 but we'd all grown up together which made it ok so I hadn't realised how utterly stupidly boys that age behave! Our first attempt to dump them at Trafalgar Square failed when they followed us as we changed buses so in desperation we dived into Selfridges on Bond Street safe in the knowledge that no self-respecting teenage boy would be caught dead there - it did however cost Serena the price of a new handbag which was too conveniently on sale.

It was 2 pm by the time we arrived to take our ride on the London Eye and, as much as I enjoyed that and indeed the whole morning, by then I'd had enough.

"The difference between us in London and Litara in London is that she always has a dolphin" Serena sighed as we stepped off the wheel..
"A dauphin? Like a French prince?"
"No a dolphin like a porpoise!" and Serena was running.

It must be 3 miles to Harley Street from The Eye but we walked it and still arrived early. There is just so much purposeless or porpoiseless sightseeing you can do when in the back of your mind is the thought 'Is he going to tell me I'm dying?'

Serena waited for me in reception while I entered the doctor's office and took the offered seat. "Mr Pitt? Please be straight with me: Am I dying?

"Charles, please. Good god no, you're not dying. Have you been thinking that?"

"Ever since Dr Edwards said he wanted to cut me open."

"Ah Dr Edwards. His diagnosis of you as an XX male was correct in as far as it went and surgery would possibly have expanded and improved the diagnosis but while not harming you, maybe not improved your prognosis. His difficulty was that he only used one source of DNA, your blood. From yesterday's biopsies we now have examined 4 different sources and have found 3 distinct and very different sets of DNA"

"Does that mean they've mutated and I've got cancer?"

"Not at all. In addition to the compromised but not dangerous XX(y) cells that were found in Dr Edwards original blood tests, you have what appear to be both normal XX tissue cells and XY tissue cells. Your body appears to be built like a jigsaw puzzle picture created from 3 different jigsaws. There is a word for this originally used to describe a mythical creature. That is a chimera .

"I think I understand what you're describing but what does it mean in real terms for my future?"

"Well the first thing is that it doesn't demand any immediate surgery to remove bits of you so breathe easy there. I see that although you presented as male when young you now present as female and there seems to be no problem with that. Would you say the change was for emotional reasons or because of difficulty in passing as male?"

"Originally it was my appearance that prompted the change and that was less than 3 weeks ago but now it feels in some way more… natural."

"I imagine if you were to revert to a male presentation there would be difficulties but there is that choice which shouldn't be given up lightly or I believe too soon. That brings us to fertility which is at the moment not evident. Comparing the blood test results taken 18 days ago with those taken yesterday your testosterone levels have remained low and œstrogen levls dropped from a high level. Tell me have you noticed any mood swings over that time?"

"Maybe a bit weepy at times… Are you suggesting I've got PMS!?"

"No, of course not but changing hormone levels do produce mood swings among other things and I'd like you to keep a temperature chart measured each morning before you get out of bed.

Hormone levels are what have to be primarily considered in the near future. It is possible that a testosterone supplement might kick your own testosterone into production and it would probably make you in time look more masculine however that would soon stop any chance you might have of female fertility. Conversely, if we do nothing your own œstrogen will destroy any chance of male fertility you might have if it hasn't already."

"When do I have to decide? In a few day I am sailing to Spain and expect to be gone 3 or 4 weeks."

"That should be fine but you will need to see me or another doctor in a month as eventually there is a small chance danger of internal bleeding your are not plumbed to deal with."

"Mr Pitt? Charles? Is there any real chance of my having children?"

"I'm sorry Miss Williams, but as a man almost certainly not. As a woman there is a faint but very real possibility you might become fertile."

I looked at this man whose expertise was all I had to go to decide my entire future and liked the way he hadn't offered certainty. I trusted him. "Please call me Venus and thank you for your efforts . I would appreciate a copy of your findings and prognosis for the company and won't forget to take my temperature. Hopefully I will see you again in a month."

"Before you go Miss Williams. Venus. A word of advice. We've talked about this as though it were normal and it isn't. There are new advances being made daily in genetics but so far I have not heard of a single other case like yours. Research scientists would love to get their hands on you and if you become fertile and your situation were to become public knowledge the media frenzy would be huge. Please be careful."

Chapter 23

"Well?" Serena asked, standing as I walked back into recption.

"I should live long enough to get home and even to the bar tonight. I think we need to celebrate."

As we walked back the way we had come toward Oxford Circus tube station we passed a chemist so I popped in. "I'd like a thermometer please," I asked the woman behind the counter. "One that won't get broken easily if I use it every day travelling."

"You'll be best with one of these digitals," she answered bringing out a box. "I used this type when I was trying for a baby."

Looking at the picture of what looked like a plastic ice-lolly I handed over the cash and thanked her. "Good luck" she called as Serena and I were going through the door. "My boy will be two soon."

Throughout the trip back Serena kept nudging me to talk until we managed to grab the front seat on the driverless Docklands Light Railway which kept her quiet for a while. It wasn't until we were sitting down with Litara, finishing our risotto, that I let it out.

"I haven't got cancer and I'm no more likely than anyone else to get it. I can't have children at the moment but there is a chance I might be able to one day though it is more likely to be from my eggs than my sperm!"

It was Litara who recovered first. "What do you mean eggs? You've got eggs?"

"Maybe" I explained as well as I could. "I have to see a doctor in a month because I might have internal bleeding."

"You mean a period? You can't have a period, you've got a dick!" butted in Serena as subtle as always.

At that point I couldn't help but laugh. "The doctor noticed that too, scanning it yesterday. I think the word he used was adequate. What he definitely did say today is that if I do become fertile as a woman and that becomes publicly known the media will have a feeding frenzy so please be dicrete as I only intend close family and you to know at the moment Serena."

"Enough about me. We need to choose clothes and get ready to party!."

Tonight's choice was Litara's as when enough of her friends were in London to justify it they would get together for a music night at their favourite, understanding, pub. She'd explained that nearly everyone who came would play or sing and there were several professional musicians but to keep the atmosphere friendly professionals weren't allowed to play their usual instruments or music and karaoke backing tracks were common.

Knowing that Serena and I would be the youngest there I suggested we try to fit in. Serena on the other hand believed in 'if you've got it flaunt it' so I'm sure her dress was shorter than the ones she wore for tennis while the length of my outfit was more decorous at the expense of a split skirt and top that tended to display rather than defend my assets. Maybe Litara winced when she saw us; I knew though that we were both OTT and outgunned when I saw her simple choice of jeans and a split-necked summer jumper.

As it turned out we were not the only young people in the pub that evening and the eldest must have been 70. With a drink under their belt people soon started getting up to have a go on the makeshift stage. It might have been amateur night but the standard was high and I was particularly impressed by the 70 year old who played a Django Reinhardt piece and a girl called Nora who was trying out a new song called Don't Know Why.

Serena and I had ended up sharing a table with what seemed to be two straight couples until the girls kissed. That left Serena and I to handle the men and I took against the one facing me as he had this really phoney French accent and introduced himself as Jean-Luc. He was a 'Mr Cool' who had been everywhere, done everything and made a film about it. It really amazes me that there are girls that fall for this stuff and of course he was old, maybe even over 30.

Litara re-appeared with news that the backing track was arranged and we were on next because as newcomers we had to be seen to at least try. In fairness she had warned us and even heard us on the drive from Wales to London so she had only herself to blame if we embarrassed her. Serena and I of course would never see these people again so tonight, ‘for one night only’, we gave them It's Raining Men.

The crowd were forgiving of our effort as we finished, and were more than generous when comparing us to the real talent in the room. Mr Cool' though had to take things a step too far by telling us we could watch the video he'd taken of us for upload to shareyourworld..com.
"At your age I suppose you need to make home movies to help you remember what you were doing yesterday" I replied while thinking "I'd love to let him know the girl he's been trying to pull has something extra between her legs and has never been attracted to a man in her life!"

In fairness, 'Mr Cool' took his turn like everyone else, handing his disc over and settling on a high stool with a microphone to introduce in his atrocious French accent - L' êtê Indien

Within a minute as I listened to this complete phoney sing I discovered two things: - first, to hear his voice was like being hit in the solar plexus and second, i wanted his babies right here and now!

Two minutes… three minutes… then in a pause from his singing as the background music played on he quietly stood up; put the microphone on the stool and walked slowly over to the karaoke machine except… the magical voice returned!…with no Jean-Luc!…and continued until he pushed the button off!

The place erupted! Jean-Luc took a mock bow and his piece finished returned to our table.

Chapter 24

"We old, old men have to have a little fun, no?" Jean-Luc's phoney French voice had disappeared to be replaced by one very like the singer we'd just heard on disc.

"I don't know how old you are but if you want to survive for another birthday I suggest you stop trying to wind me up!" was what I chose to reply rather than the attractive alternative of throwing my drink over him.

Luckily that was the moment Litara chose to join us. "What do you think of our folk club Venus? Oh, I 'd better explain that it's not a club for folk music, more one for film folk. Jean- Luc here you have met; he is one of the best Steadicam operators in the world when he is not winding people up!"

"But everything about him is phoney!" I exasperatedly pointed out to Litara. "How can anyone bear to be with a person who lies about everything?"

"Au contraire mademoiselle," interrupted Jean-Luc. "What I say and what I film is the truth. It is the listeners and the viewers who lie to themselves."

"A lie by omission is still, in my book, a lie!" I objected. "You just deceived us into believing you were singing when you were miming. How is that not a lie?"

"Because I was singing! In the style of Joe Dassin yes, but the voice was mine and live except the last few seconds which I did not mime but had previously added to the backing track! Please, here… Keep the disc as a memento of our meeting for I must go now." With that he placed the disc with his left hand on the table beside me and as my head naturally turned, following the movement, his right hand , unnoticed, lifted my left hand to his lips. At the touch of his lips on the back of my hand my head and eyes snapped back to meet… the bluest blue eyes imaginable looking straight into my soul…

By this time Litara and Serena were doubled up, giggling and spluttering fit to burst. As Jean-Luc turned and walked out of the room Serena pulled herself together enough to say "Girl, the look on your face…! Are… you in deep, deep trouble…!"

Litara explained. "I think Jean-Luc has a mild form of Aspergers that makes it difficult for him to lie. To defend himself growing up he became an acute observer of people which has made him first such a good cameraman and editor but also second extremely adept at making us disbelieve what we are told. I've seen him forge a document and tell the official he was handing it to that it was a forgery, yet the official convinced himself that it was a genuine pass into a restricted area!"

When Serena and I woke next morning Litara had already left so we had a cereal breakfast on the balcony. I did have to endure some teasing but the slow wind down to the evening and a good night's sleep had almost convinced me that my reaction to Jean-Luc's singing had been a passing aberration and after breakfast we set to cheerfully cleaning the apartment, packing our cases and making a chicken and couscous salad for lunch.

Noon came and I have never seen a smile quite as wide as that on Litara's face when she returned to the apartment and joined us for lunch. While Serena and I served the salad and poured fruit juices, Litara dropped a folder onto the table and started to explain.

"First I can tell you that as you've been found no more likely than any of us to drop dead the project is going ahead and you are in!" with that Litara lifted her glass and we toasted 'The Project'.

"Now it gets complicated. I have arranged some difficult travel documents in the course of my work but yours is definitely the oddest. It would be most practical for you to have an EU passport for travel and work but thanks to computerisation that passport would have a large M for male on it unless… " a pause for a mouthful of chicken and a sip of apple juice. "Unless it was obtained using a previous valid British passport with no gender marked on it. Unfortunately you didn't have any such old passport and couldn't have obtained one after Britain joined the EU… except you have a Samoan grandmother who kept dual nationality so…" another pause for food, to the frustration of Serena and myself, but after which she laid down her knife and fork picking up the folder.

"I present to you… . A valid Western Samoan passport for Samoan citizen Delia Venus Williams, of no particular gender; British citizenship for the said Samoan citizen and finally…" raising her arms to acknowledge the imagined wild cheers. "a valid EU passport for Delia Venus Williams of no particular gender!"

"Surely that can't be legal, let alone possible in the time you've had," I asked.

"Shirley it is!" Litara replied. "The legality is iron clad for you to have those passports… The speed is what has made me at, 28, one of the most sought after documentary makers in the world and why I only got these an hour ago."

After lunch, as Litara drove us to Victoria bus station, I pulled out my new passports for third time. The EU passport was the most important I supposed but almost anonymous. The Samoan in contrast gave me a huge thrill making me a part of history and of a much wider world.

"Almost forgot" said Litara. Look in the glove compartment and you'll find a couple of books I'd like you to read. It looked as though working with Litara miight be like being at school with homework as I looked at books on the building of the Guggenheim Museum in Bilbao and an artist called Anselm Keifer

It would be at least 2 days before Litara got to Wales but at the station where she dropped us Serena and I were soon queueing to have our bags loaded into the storage compartment of the coach. I stayed with the cases to make sure they went on ok while she moved to the coach steps to grab us good seats.

It was when Serena changed hands with her handbag to better climb the coach steps that the kid appeared. About 17, he had been waiting maybe for a chance and took it to snatch See's handbag and dash toward the back of the coach and coincidentally toward me.

My own shoulder bag I'd been idly swinging with its long strap in my hand so it was a mere instinctive reaction to continue and lengthen the swing, sweeping the boys legs from under him then run a few steps forward to pick up the bag he'd released as he sprawled. As I rose with the bag he too rose, surging forward on a heading straight at me only to swerve at the last moment so the kick I'd been unleashing caught him right up the backside as he flashed past.

The boy was gone in moments leaving Serena and I with nothing to do but settle into our seats for the ride home. Opening her bag to check its contents See hesitated a moment to say… "You're not quite all girl are you Venus?"

Chapter 25

"If you had a blood transfusion or kidney transplant from a man would that make you 'not quite all girl'? How about Mohammed Ali's daughter, Laila , the one who boxes. Is she 'not quite all girl'? I can only be me and I'm still finding out who that is Serena!"

Serena's comment, 'not quite all girl' had got to me. As much as anyone I had grown up with the idea that the world was split into men and women yet Mr Pitt had found my body, at least, to be both and neither. What about my mind? Was my mind a jigsaw too?

Getting to know who I was might parallel this coach trip? The first part, getting out of London, was tortuous and slow until we hit the motorway where the speed picked up rapidly and there could be no easy turning back until later today when we reached Cardiff. Next week it would hopefully be Bilbao and in a couple of years Tahiti!

It was 10 pm before we got home, Dad having picked us up from the coach stop. I waved Serena goodnight then headed indoors where mum was waiting in the kitchen with a hot chocolate drink, some sandwiches and the Spanish Inquisition. I'd grown up with that phrase but tonight was even tougher than 'the broken greenhouse window trial' of 1988.

Fortunately I had two more copies of the doctor's report, Litara already having received one for insurance purposes, so I handed one over while doing my best to explain as much as I understood.

"So you're a girl with some boy bits." concluded mum. That wasn't quite accurate physically but felt right so I agreed. Mum handed my post to me and I in return showed her my new passport. The Samoan passport was not the surprise that I had expected because Dad with a flourish presented his own new Samoan passport - it seemed that Grandma Tina and Litara shared, as well as a name, a love of wheeling and dealing.

Naturally mum picked up on the lack of gender on the passport so I explained what Mr Davis had told me about birth certificates and the House of Lords.

"Well its not right." she stated. "The law will have to be changed!" From being my greatest critic she had transformed into a crusader on my behalf so I next needed to explain about the need for confidentiality in case I became fertile, just to stop her camping out on the front lawn of our local member of parliament! Which in turn started her off about Litara not getting any younger and that she wanted grandchildren before she was to old to enjoy them and maybe I ought to… . She was still going on when I headed up to bed.

"It's absolutely ridiculous!" I'd stopped at the paper shop on my way to Dad's yard and was picking up his Boat magazine when Mrs Llewellyn came in. "I know it's not politically correct but first we let the coloureds in and now here you are Dai Williams, dressed like a fairy!"

"I blame it on the Americans" I sympathised

"How do you mean… 'the Americans?"

"It's in the burgers. Hadn't you noticed we had none of these problems in the days before the Americans brought their hamburgers here!" With that I paid Mr Patel for the magazine and left to continue my ride to the yard when…

"Are you all right lass?" I was looking up at Bill's concerned face from my position at the bottom of a roadside ditch.

"What is it with you Bill? Wasn't it enough to mess up my family; do you now feel the need to kill me!" In fairness my present position wasn't his fault as to avoid hitting a car which shot out of a side road he'd slammed on his bakes having just overtaken me and I'd swerved into the ditch to avoid hitting his truck. I wasn't feeling fair though and with the real villain of the piece long gone, Bill was a natural focus to vent my anger on.

"Don't you dare laugh at me Bill!"

"If you could stand in my shoes looking at you all red in the face under your bike you'd be laughing too!" With that he picked my bicycle off me, observing that its front wheel was history, put it in the back of his truck and insisted on driving me wherever I was going, which was Dad's yard. "What do you mean, 'I messed up your family'?"

" Well first you told Alistair Dougan I was your grandaughter then you turn up at Grandpa Joe's funeral with my Grandma Tina… What do you expect me to think?"

By this time we had pulled up at the yard, but he asked me stay a few minutes to hear his story. "I met your grandmother Litara, who you call Grandma Tina, at Queen Elizabeth's Coronation. She was part of the entourage of Queen Salote of Tonga and I was there through the Royal Navy. We fell in love and would have married but she wanted children and after my ship was hit in the war I couldn't have them.

We did talk about marrying and letting someone else father our children but I didn't think that would be fair on her so we split on the best of terms and she married my best friend Malcolm Williams who was definitely Isaac's father and your grandfather. We kept in touch and were both friends of your grandpa Joe but after I married - my wife didn't want children - we saw less of each other. I did however think of her marriage and Isaac's birth being partly my doing which is why I suppose I got involved in Isaac's business and we became friends despite the age gap. My own wife died a year ago which brings us up to date."

It all made sense and even sounded romantic - I wondered how many men would be brave enough in those days to tell the woman they loved that they couldn't father children so sacrificing their own happiness for that of the woman's. Maybe that is why my own story came tumbling out including the doctors, my sister's project and my confusion.

I had to apologise to my Da for being late when I finally got into the workshop but explained about Bill and the crash while pushing on hard to get enough circuits built to tide him over for the time I would be away.

It was well past 5 pm when I finished the last of the work just as Bill's truck returned to the car park. He'd said he was going into town and would get my bike's wheel fixed or replaced and sure enough he swung the bicycle off the truck and wheeled it over to meet us..

"Isaac! A word if you've time. I want to talk about your mother, your daughter Venus here and I want you to build our boat!"

Chapter 26

"Bugger! That's too much. Maybe we can… ? And… .er. I'm just going to have to tell you straight… . Isaac… I've asked your mother to marry me and she's turned me down!"

Dad and I looked at this suddenly confused anxious figure in front of us as though he'd kidnapped and replaced our friend. "That must be sad for you Bill, but it is her right." said Dad reasonably.

"No it's not her right! I love her; she loves me, and we're too bloody old to be messing about like this!"

"Even if that's true Bill, what has it got to do with us and what do you want from me?" At this point it was as though I was seeing Bill as the younger of the two men and he was asking a father for his daughter's hand in marriage.

"Your mother didn't turn me down because she doesn't love me but because, for her, family always comes first. She just doesn't think her family will accept me. You in particular, she says , are so close to your father Malcolm that she believes you'll kill me if you know we've been sleeping together… "

Dad paused for 5, 10, 15, 20… seconds. "My mother is probably the scariest person most will ever meet and I've prayed for someone to come and distract her from trying to run my life. If what you say is true and you are brave enough to take on that job Bill; I take off my hat to you and will give you any help I can to bring the family behind the marriage."

It was quickly agreed that my mother and Aunt Sophie needed to be brought into the circle as soon as possible so Bill came back to our house and over dinner a plan hatched to get Grandma to the marina restaurant on Saturday evening for a family gathering. There was no intention of railroading Grandma into marriage but she wouldn't be able to use family as an excuse to avoid giving Bill a straight answer. I just hoped that Bill was right in his belief that grandma loved him because he was in for humiliation on a grand scale if she turned him down again in front of everyone.

"Saturday should be interesting" said Dad breaking up the conversational dominance of Mum and Aunt Sophie. "but marriage proposals butter no parsnips . 'Our boat' is just the pipe-dream of idle chatter; never meant to be built! You don't need a boat Bill, and I'm not a boat builder"

"But Venus does need a boat and this would give us the justification to build a long distance live-aboard boat the way it should be built and have the whole television-watching world see it in action."

"It will cost a fortune Bill. The batteries I want for the boat are only used for top- end laptop computers and your carbon fibre hull and rig is Formula 1 race car material. it makes no economic sense whatsoever!"

"If we build it they will come and by the time the last of Venus's documentaries are made the cost of those materials will be a fraction of today's price and you will be the yacht system designer everyone wants to hire."

"You are the business brain Bill but I'm still not a boat builder. I can fit the boat out for you but would you like suggestions on who to go to for the hull design and to build it?"

"No need Isaac. I've been listening to you for years and the design has already been completed and is with the builder. They were just waiting for a go ahead and I gave that this afternoon!"

This was crazy! Bill didn't need the boat for himself. My family didn't have the money to buy or rent a high price yacht from Bill and my sister Litara, who was the person behind the project and could veto everything, hadn't even been asked what she wanted!

"Are you rich Bill? I mean you mentioned that Alistair Dougan manages your properties in Wales but have you more?"

"I'm not the clan McLeod chieftain from the Isle of Skye living in Dunvegan Castle if that's what you are thinking but I do ok and at 77 with no children I can indulge the whim for a boat."

"Don't try to pull the wool over my eyes Bill! The plans are ready drawn, the builder has already been given the go-ahead… . This is far more than a whim of yours. Beside, what about me? The intrigue over Grandma Tina has been fun and Da will talk boats for ever but I remember what you said back at the yard 'I want to talk about your mother, your daughter Venus, and to build our boat!' That's what you said so… What about me?"

"Not everything is about you dear." my mother's voice interupted. "We're busy here as there's a lot to arrange." Is it part of the dark side of mother daughter relationships, the constant competition to be the centre of attention of any man?

"Venus is right Mrs Williams," explained Bill. "she does deserve an explanation, but perhaps it is better left until after Saturday."

Chapter 27

Unpacking my bag the previous evening I'd found a bonus parcel from my sister - a pair of electrolysis tweezers. At the London apartment she saw me tweezing a dark hair from the corner of my mouth and commented "Me too!" so I took it that these tweezers were her solution. After I thought everyone else had left or gone to bed on Thursday night I took out the tweezer kit and read the instructions. Five minutes later I'd moved from practicing on my leg to doing my moustache. That was the moment my mother walked through the half open door and started laughing.

"It's mean to laugh at me. I can't help having a moustache!"

"I wasn't laughing at your moustache, just the face you were pulling! Beside that you got those tweezers from your sister, yes? If I guess right they are the ones she got from me and I got them from your Aunt Sophie! Welcome to 'Woman's World' sweetheart!"

Friday the heavens opened and the post arrived with my exam results. I say my results but they were the results for David Victor Williams and he wasn't around to use them.

Taking my passports, driving license, cheque book, credit and debit cards all in the name of Delia Venus Williams, I laid them beside the exam certificates. The only tangible evidence of 13 years schooling was a few useless certificates whereas a relatively few, if frantic, days had garnered an almost complete paper identity for Delia Venus Williams which looked increasingly likely to be my entry to life.

There was the missing female birth certificate to consider and I wondered what I might need it for as in my first 18 years I'm not sure the male one had ever been out of its envelope. Goodness! If I died tomorrow, what would the death certificate say? Then there was prison… What about marriage if I married Jean-Luc…? What about jobs like the military or doing competitive sports… Insurance? Pensions?

The shift from feeling everything was going smoothly to fearing total disaster took mere seconds as a mountain of obstacles and traps grew in my mind through trying to answer questions I'd previously never even thought to ask. Mum and Dad already having left for work I had the house to myself so I did what thousands of others would be doing that morning and bawled my eyes out at the sheer impossibility of creating a life as an adult in a very large very scary world… . Then I showered, dressed, squared my shoulders and headed out into that world, or rather the Job Centre to ask their advice on what hoops a self-employed boat bum and prospective television personality needed to jump through.

Once in town it was a foregone conclusion I'd have lunch at the café. Martina, Jenny, Gwen and Evan were there and greedy for the lowdown on my adventures in London so I waded in using Mum's shorthand description of me as 'a girl with some boy bits'.

"That's what I thought once I'd talked with my sister," said Gwen. "She was the nurse there to back you up against Dr Edwards and she reckoned your hips are all girl, though she did curse your skinny bum!"

"Leave my bum out of this you cheeky cow," I exclaimed somewhat shocked that, behind my back, it had been the subject of gossip by my friends

"Excuse me for 'butting in'" interrupted Jenny to loud groans. "What we really want to know is what's been going on between you and your Frenchman Jean-Luc?"

"Absolutely nothing! He was rude and arrogant and I wouldn't touch him with a barge pole!"

"That's not what Serena told me on the phone. She said your tongue was so far out she thought you were going to lick him all over like a lollipop…" Jenny had her eyebrows raised and a wide-eyed innocent expression on her face as she relayed this scurrilous gossip to the others.

Quite how we moved from that point to my waking up in bed with Jenny next morning is a question that doesn't bear too much examination. The others could blame it on their all important exam results which needed celebrating. An unaccounted extra arm thrown across my face demonstrated that if anything had happened it was a ménage à trois as Serena was spooned against my back.

Sometime during the celebrations of the previous evening it seems to have been accepted that there wasn't enough male in me to constitute a threat which was awkward now as I surreptitiously slipped from the bed to the bathroom with an erection! A pee and a quick tug disposed of my embarrassment but, wiping away the clear but somewhat viscous fluid, I had no explanation and wondered how much even the doctors understood. We all want to be seen as unique individuals but not too unique.

On my way home I stopped off at Debenham's to see Kelly and ask advice. She had been so excited when she heard I might be on television that I wanted to share the news that my part in the project had been given the green light as well as ask her advice on what to take to Spain with me. Over the top as ever she wanted me to have eyelash extensions but I objected that I wouldn't be able to see through them in the sea spray when sailing. As a compromise, having sold me, with discount, enough face and skin cream to protect me through a Saharan sandstorm, she applied some temporary lash extensions for me to try and to add a little Va Va Voom to this evening's outfit.

That outfit by the way was the one I'd worn to the theatre in London, which just by chance I had with me having offered the excuse I needed to have it cleaned for my generous sister. As I was already wearing it when my sister arrived from London she had little choice but to repeat her generosity albeit with some muttering. This time it was teamed, as my ears were now healed, with a dazzling pair of drop diamond earrings borrowed from Serena under threat of a painful death if they were not safely returned. I'm not sure about Va Va Voom but my outfit was definitely high risk!

Entering the restaurant that evening on Bill's arm, I felt a million miles away from the boy I'd presumed myself to be a mere month before. None of my relatives through Grandad Malcolm's sister had seen me before and now didn't seem to be the time for explanations. Grandma Tina thought we were there to celebrate her 75th birthday which was coming in 4 days and she'd been enjoying both the food and attention as the plates were cleared from the main course. That was the moment Bill stood, walked around the tables to Grandma Tina's right-hand side, placed a small box on the table and tapped a glass for everyone's attention.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he spoke looking around the faces of us all. "My name is William McLeod. If anyone here has just cause to object to my asking to take as my wife your family member Litara Williams, or to her agreeing to accept me as her husband speak now or forever hold your peace…

… Taking the box he opened it and turning to grandma asked, , "Litara born of the Sa Malietoa in Samoa and honoured member of the Williams family in Wales - Will you marry me William of the Scottish Clan McLeod ?"

Luckily Bill is not a frail man or the hug Grandma Litara caught him in might have spelt his last breath. Bill took the diamond ring and placed it on the third finger of Grandma's left hand while the room cheered and called for toasts. It was by pre-arranged trickery that Bill took the seat to Grandma's right and my father, whose seat it had been joined me. Dessert was no sooner cleared than Bill was on his feet, tapping his glass once more

"Ladies, gentlemen and in particular, gesturing toward me, Miss Delia Venus Williams. Once my darling Litara and I are married Venus over there, will in law be my granddaughter but before that I have a question to ask her and should she agree I ask that everyone here bear witness, if necessary in a court of law! "

"Delia Venus Williams; do you agree to accept, from this moment, yourself as sole heir to my property, estates and titles?"

Chapter 28

"Bill, up until this moment you have been fun as a friend and I was looking forward to knowing you better as a grandfather but now," I raised my voice and came to my feet to state. "I have to take into account that you seem stark raving mad!"

I raised my palm to stop him interrupting and continued. "First you might be up to your eyeballs in debt and I have enough difficulties in life already without that. Even more; if by some chance you are solvent there isn't a court in the land that wouldn't find the very nature of your proposal evidence of your insanity!"

"Well put Venus and the way you put it reassures me you at least are not crazy. I'm not as it happens in debt, in fact far from it, but I don't expect you to take that on trust. The reason I asked you this in front of everyone is so that if I renege on the deal you have witnesses and can profitably sue me. Also I now state in front of these witnesses you are free to withdraw from the deal at any time without penalty up to the time of my death which, as a soon to be groom, I intend to be a very long time from now. Venus? Do you agree?"

I looked at Grandma Tina who knew Bill far better than any of us and she was nodding her head for me to accept. My parents and sister were clearly as perplexed as me and there was nobody else with advice around so…

"We have a deal Grandad!"

I lifted my glass in a toast to the agreement and around the room others did the same none of us but Bill having the faintest idea what I'd agreed to. The evening instead of winding down seemed to be just finding its legs as Bill signalled me to join him. I looked to my parents for some reaction to my decision but to no avail and my sister was engrossed in some whispered conversation on her mobile phone. I was 18 and rapidly learning that in the adult world, when the really big decisions have to be faced, you are on your own.

Bill, instead of informing me of what his legacy would be, was caught up in the excitement of the upcoming wedding as though, heavy weights having been taken from his shoulders, he hadn't a care in the world. It was if anything a relief when I saw Litara waving me to join her in the ladies room…

Sitting doing my business a couple of minutes later I did wonder that in a room full of people who knew my history none had thought to object to my using 'the ladies'. Maybe it was that I'd acquired a degree of confidence but flushing and joining Litara at the mirror I could see anything but confidence in her face - indeed it looked as though she had tears in her eyes.

"I've let you down and made a fool of myself! she burst out. "The project is dead!"

Slowly the details came out. The inspiration for the project came through a conversation with a team member of a competing producer. It was news to me that producers might compete but I let her continue as she described a deal done to cover the transit of Venus where the team would stop in Tahitian luxury instead of the usual squalor endured by film crews.

Being no astronomer and having no reason to suspect otherwise, that news inspired her whole project and her confidence had been attracting other documentary makers like flies to a honey pot. This evening however she'd learnt that the luxury location for the filming was a 'wind up'! The documentary would be made here in Britain because that is where the transit could be seen, not in Tahiti where it would be happening during their night!

"If you want to film a planet passing across the face of the sun it does help if the sun is visible in the sky!" she sobbed as the floodgates on her tears burst.

My mind was racing and as I comforted Litara, eventually encouraging her to tidy herself and repair her makeup, a plan formed. Like my sister I had little knowledge of astronomy but I did know some history and having read sailing accounts knew something of what was possible.

Marshal your facts. Give those who would help you the means and time to prepare and steamroller opposition before it has time to organise itself!

"Litara, I'm going to leave you now but don't panic. I want you to meet me in five minutes in the dining room."

Back with the others I explained to Grandma Tina that I needed to borrow her new fiancée and dragged him off to a corner table explaining on the way that the voyage to Tahiti was in trouble and why. A minute later Litara joined us and I began.

"Let me introduce you," I said, arranging the seating so that they were in the two sides of the corner and I faced them with my back to the room. "Litara this is my experienced sailing friend and prospective boat supplier Bill. Bill this is my wheeler-dealer, documentary producing sister Litara. You don't know each other but you have a lot in common as you have both, with the best of intentions I hope, been trying to railroad me into furthering your own grander plans."

I gave them a moment to look at each other and continued. "You Bill have dreams of conquering the world through a new design of boat aided by the publicity gained by its appearance on television but don't seem to have thought of what happens to your expensive creation afterwards."

I took a sip of my wine before turning my attention to my sister. "You Litara have been swept up with enthusiasm for your project without considering that the only reason the transit of Venus has a place in the public imagination is through its association with Captain James Cook who we all heard about growing up"

"I've gone along with you both as an accomplice as I'm 18 with no idea what to do with my life while having prospective financially and socially disastrous medical problems."

"Now both of your plans are in trouble because you've found that although the transit of Venus will take place on June 8th, 2004 it won't be seen in Tahiti but here in Britain where Captain Cook started and finished his voyage."

"You two are the experts in making the seemingly impossible happen while I'm just trying to find a place for myself in what I find a scary world. To offer a future for the three of us, if you two can make it work, I will take Bill's boat and retrace Captain Cook's voyage by sailing it around the world to arrive back in Britain in June 2004 for The Transit of Venus."

Chapter 29

How can previously experienced capable people suddenly turn helpless? Bill and Litara were suddenly full of questions about how I intended to achieve the impossible.

"Not my job!" Was the limit of my explanation. "You two have a boat to build and documentaries to make so do what you do best and ask the experts. I've got to sail to Spain hoping that by the time I get back you can tell me whether I have a voyage around the world or shelf stacking in Tesco's as a future."

It was tempting to then start pumping Bill about the inheritance scheme he'd dreamed up but I wasn't sure I wanted to know. Would it help on the trip to Bilboa knowing I had thousands of pounds to come one day? With my luck my inheritance would turn out to be his childhood teddybear!

Sunday was the day for moving aboard Blue Horizon and mum decided that nobody would survive the voyage unless she fed them up so she was including Alistair and Jill on a family table already crowded by the addition of Bill and Grandma Tina.

While Mum and my sister were preparing dinner Dad was ferrying my things to the boat adding my electrical circuit testing and soldering kit from his workshop, 'just in case'. Bill and Grandma Tina then met us on Blue Horizon 'just to check' I hadn't forgotten the sextant and the year 2000 almanac to calculate my star sights. For a while the men were left to their own devices while Jill and I made up the beds and stowed provisions, and Grandma read, enjoyed a bit of sun in the cockpit, but we all gathered to follow our route on the paper charts starting just before high tide next morning. at dawn. It took a call from mum to dad's mobile before a halt was called for a safari in search of mum's roast beef and Yorkshire pudding (traditional amongst Welsh, Afro Caribbean Polynesians).

With the trip so near I'd have liked to spend time with my friends but simply called Serena instead. "No problem Venus! You hang up and I'll phone round so we can see this boat you're sailing. Be there at 4 pm!" Absolutely everyone turned up and a huge number of photos were taken of the boat, the people, the people waving goodbye to the boat and the people waving goodbye to the people ashore from the boat. Then the shore people went home and Alistair, Jill and I went below before turning in for an early night - be honest how many friends does anyone have who will get up at 5 am to wave them off on their holidays (which it was for Alistair and Jill).

"Eeah! Cold, cold , cold , cold…" … the delights of sailing luxury yachts are similar to those of camping with cold washes and clothing dictated by practicality not fashion (in my case a fetching sweat suit in a shade of pink that ensured its destination of a 'For Sale' bin, teamed with very old deck shoes). 05:45 we were leaving the lock from the marina, with Jill and I playing skivvy to Alistair's impression of Captain Bligh, of Mutiny on the Bounty fame.

'Navy fashion' dictates that everything has its own place on a boat and there is a right way of doing everything. This is not always for mysterious technical reasons but so that in the middle of the night in the pitch black you can find the 'whatsit' stowed or untie the knot tied by somebody else long before. Alistair's Bligh impression I felt was down to his nervousness, an impression reinforced by Jill's wink as she passed me taking the sail covers to the sail locker in the bows of the boat as I coiled and stowed the mooring lines and marina electrical power cable in the aft lazarette (a large deep locker at the stern of the boat).

If this were one of those derring-do stories we would be beating out of the Bristol Channel against fierce headwinds but it isn't so in the real world we motored through the day and night with barely any wind other than a 'sea breeze' in the afternoon which allowed me haul up the mainsail for a couple of hours only to drop it again as the breeze died passing the Isle of Lundy. We didn't even have to steer as an electric autopilot did that.

Watches were non-traditional with, theoretically, Alistair doing 06:00 to 14:00, Jill 14:00 to 22:00 and me 22:00 to 06:00. The person going off watch was allowed to sleep but the person awaiting their watch was on-hand for work. In practice that meant Jill cooked lunch, I dinner and Alistair pointed to where the cereals were in the morning!

There simply wasn't much to do with the engine only going off for 6 hours the second day when a southerly breeze of 12-15 knots allowed us to raise (unroll in the case of the foresails) all plain sail for a few hours before anchoring for the night in New Grimbsy Sound between Tresco and Bryher in the Scilly Isles.

I could now understand Litara's point that sea voyages gave very little action per day for a film maker! 160 nautical miles (times by 1.15 = 185 land miles) in 34 hours of very easy motor sailing was hardly going to hold a television audience watching. They could I suppose watch me put my hair up with elastic combs ; the said newly bought combs shoot over the side of the boat as it got caught when I was raising the mainsail and Jill French braiding my hair as an alternative. There was the scene of Alistair throwing up over the side on the first evening which might have been the smell of my cottage pie but I prefer to think was diesel fumes when a breeze pushed the exhaust over the deck. All in all it was just another day in Paradise

That evening after a steak and oven chips dinner Alistair and Jill watched a DVD while I sat in the cockpit reading Joshua Slocum's: Sailing Alone Around the World and thinking, 'did I really want this'? Some lifestyles become tedious, others tedious with flashes of terror. Sailing was tedious, with hard work, discomfort, more than its share of terror but also with moments that were sublime

Chapter 30

Up at dawn and I was soon flushing the anchor chain off with a deck hose as the electric anchor winch hauled up the anchor (mud and seaweed in a chain locker rotted and smelt) and directly under my feet Jill had her arm in the chain locker spreading the chain around so that it didn't pile high then fall on itself when the boat started bouncing. I'd noticed her putting on gloves before doing this job to protect her hands and very expensive manicure which gave me a twinge comparing them to my own produced through tennis and varnishing, embossed with a few soldering burns!

The first couple of hours the wind was still light but from the west as we wove our way south at high tide through the Tresco flats and scattered islets. By 7am we had all plain sail up with the wind on the starboard beam and by 9 am a reef in the main and the foresail partly rolled as the wind rose to a moderate to fresh breeze . It wasn't relaxed sailing any more at this point as we were crossing the English Channel, with the heaviest concentration of shipping in the world. To say power gives way to sail is, I'd been warned, foolish anywhere but it was doubly so here where it felt as though we were trying to cross a motorway on foot. At least we could see the ships in daylight but that made me worry more about crossing the concentration of shipping off the French coast tonight.

At least we made good time throughout the day and the shipping was lighter mid-channel while I slept. The wind did rise though to a fresh to strong breeze by the time I woke again for a late lunch so before eating I helped Alistaire put a second reef in the mainsail and roll the foresail in further - I couldn't help but notice that this sail that set so beautifully when fully open was looking creased and a lot less efficient shape as its working area reduced so it was doubtful we could make good time if we had to sail against this wind.

During the afternoon I worked out the dawn and dusk star sights I had been taking and was pleased with the results but only after my third attempt to use the tables! I'd measured the elevation of those stars I could see while the horizon was visible; the time of the measurement to the second with my watch (that I'd checked against the radio time signal) and roughly what direction the star was from the boat. I didn't have to know the name of the star simply looking in the tables for stars that matched my observation. The only slight confusion was that one of the stars wasn't a star at all - it was the planet Venus.

It happened just before 8pm: Alistair had gone on deck to help Jill with ship watching, judging their speed and direction from the lights they could see and how quickly their bearing moved from left to right or right to left. I was below boiling pasta for my Bolognese sauce when there was a huge double bang!

"Venus! On deck!" I turned off the oven gas and shot on deck, grabbing my foul weather jacket as I went, only to find… nothing wrong at all. "What the hell was that?" asked Alistair. There were no ships too near, no flames in the sky and the wind had even eased a little… Then it struck me… Bill! That man could surely talk and he talked of all sorts such as…

"Concorde! It was Concorde opening up down the English Channel on it's way to America. That must be the sound of it going through the sound barrier! Wow!!

My dinner was a success even if we did eat out of tubs rather than off plates - did I mention it was a little bouncy? My watch started at 10 pm and I was glad to have Alistair's company. It is fastest and safest to cross a shipping lane at right angles but not really feasible with ships turning south as they left the English Channel at the northwest tip of France. By midnight however we could relax a little as we were heading south-southeast to the east of all the ships on their west or southwest courses so Alistair went below to brew tea, read and doze in the saloon.

The wind was definitely easing and alone on deck, with clear skies and gentling seas I saw something I had never seen before. I saw the stars! I'd seen stars before, occasionally even in Cardiff but never like this. With clean air and no human lights they swept across the skies like, like… nothing on Earth…

It was first light when I woke Alistair to help me manoeuvre around a fishing boat that was maintaining a collision course (getting bigger on a constant bearing). Whilst tacking around the fishing boat we took the opportunity to shake out a reef from the mainsail and unroll the foresail a bit more giving us good enough speed but a comfortable ride - with only 260 miles to go there was no hurry as our best plan was to arrive in two days on Saturday morning. Tea and cereals gave Alistair a start for the day and me a supper so by the time Jill joined us I was more than ready for sleep but it didn't come quickly. I knew I didn't want a lifetime at sea but the previous night alone on deck had worked its magic. I was hooked… and whatever the future brought part of me would always be wanting to recapture that feeling.

Two more days Alistair had guessed and Saturday morning, having radioed ahead to the port authority for permission, we motored into the Getxo marina, Bilbao. It was large but fortunately someone came down from the marina office to direct us into a berth and help us tie up. Alistair asked in Spanish , which I don't understand, what must have been something like, "Where is the restaurant as these fool women have been starving me for a week? Por favor!!!"

Jill and I did insist on time to clean up first but it was over a very early lunch we pulled out our phones to bring everyone back home up to date. My text was simple and sent to Mum, Litara, Serena and Bill. 'ARRVD SAFE BILBAO GETXO MRNA'

I'd barely started my fish and salad, kindly bought by Alistair, when my phone rang and Litara was gabbling "Monday…Dress nice.…Film…". Maybe she wan't gabbling and it was just her on London speed and me on sailing speed but I slowly understood that 'The Project' had legs again and having seen the video the backers wanted more and as a film crew were already busy at the Guggenheim Museum it was natural to fit me in so…"

"What do you mean 'fit me in' and seen what video?" I asked reasonably

"The idea is to draw a parallel between your personal voyage and the sailing voyage. This would be an introductory interview in an interesting location"

"That sounds as scary as hell. I never expected to answer personal questions on camera! You haven't answered the other question either. What video?"

"The one Jean-Luc shot of you and Serena and posted on shareyourworld..com

Chapter 31

"Bloody men!" Luckily Alistair had left for the 'gents' so it was Jill that replied…

"Yes, they are aren't they? Do you mean all of them today or is it one in particular?"

I forcefully began giving Jill my considered opinion of Jean-Luc describing his antics but she interrupted to suggest that until I saw the film I could have no idea of his intentions or how people would interpret the film. That's why on his return to the table Alistair was packed off again to find internet access while I got from Litara the internet link details to find the film.

Back on Blue Horizon an hour later we discussed what we'd seen in the film. A business man at heart Alistair's reaction was "You can't sue him, that's for sure. he told you he'd filmed you and was putting it on the internet and you didn't object and the film is far from offensive. You aren't going to be offered modelling or singing jobs on the basis of that video but it does show you as attractive in a sort of exotic, girl next door with a cleavage way."

"I thought you'd notice the cleavage Alistair," said Jill, unable to resist teasing him. "The outfits were a bit much for a midweek karaoke session down the pub but you got away with it, mostly I think because you were enjoying yourselves in an unselfconscious way. There was something more though and I'm sure it's why Alistair was so riveted."

I had no idea what Jill meant. I'd expected to see a film of me making a fool of myself but that wasn't what I saw at all.…

"For heaven's sake Venus, can't you see it? Your Jean-Luc is a very good cameraman and what he has caught is a moment - the moment of his falling in love with you!"

Plan! Plan and prepare! I re-read the book on the Bilbao Museum and found more information on the internet as well as re-watching the video - (who wouldn't?). There was plenty of cleaning to do on Blue Horizon but Jill and Alistair didn't want me to start the messier jobs before they were to fly back home so I had time to look around the immediate area and other boats including some with live-aboards who sailed from country to country travelling all over the world.

"Hola!" On Monday morning at 8 am there was a call from the dock as we were eating breakfast. "I am sorry to interrupt you but I am looking for Señorita Venus Williams." The man introduced himself as Aarón Martinez who was directing and presenting a documentary called 'Bilbao Reborn'. The Dougan's invited him aboard and, having just finished breakfast, while I poured Señor Martinez coffee, they excused themselves to leave us to business.

"Your friends are very polite as I hope to be but I am confused by my producer's request that I film an introductory interview with you at the museum"

Sometimes you have to put your trust in people and I knew that once I appeared on television in Litara's 'Project', I'd be public property and open to ridicule unless… I gave Señor Martinez the full story without holding anything back - 'The Project', my medical condition and the proposed voyage - then put to him my proposal.

Tuesday I was sent shopping with the director's wardrobe expert who on Wednesday morning pointed me, with specific instructions, toward her hand-picked choice of hairdresser/manicurist. Finally inside the Museum the makeup artist had her way with me before I was launched to 'casually stroll around the exhibition' while being filmed looking casually chic by you know who with his bloody Steadicam'.

In the Atrium I 'met' Aarón Martinez who went into his interview…

"Miss Williams, Venus; you are something of an interloper to this programme from another documentary?"

"Yes we are making a series of programmes following my voyaging and visits to different places as I re-trace under sail the path of Captain James Cook and his ship Endeavour around the world."

"So why Bilbao? I don't think Cook ever came here?"

"Not on that journey certainly but I was chosen to recreate that voyage because like the map of the world which Cook helped re-create by his measurements of the transit of Venus in Tahiti; like this museum and even like the city of Bilboa itself, my body is a mosaic in a state of evolution, always re-creating itself from the inside out."

"So you see the Bilbao Guggenheim as evolving?"

Of course. Think of the Taj Mahal or the Empire State Building . Both are memorable but both are static being designed from the outside in for a purpose: the first as a monument to beauty; the second as a place of office work where land is in short supply and expensive.

The Bilbao Guggenheim Museum though has a different purpose being just one part of the rebirth of the old industrial city of Bilbao into something fresh and ever changing. The very building itself is not memorable from the outside in the sense that you could go home and draw it because the exterior grew around spaces whose uses are expected to change as exhibitions come and go and to cope with the demands of changing use requires strong interconnection of the interior

"Using that analogy any human being can be seen as changing and evolving so why choose you?"

"Because through genetics I represent not only any general human being but also any single individual. My family has come quite recently from many countries but also, although I have the chromosomes of a woman, I have the chromosomes of a man too and of those who are not quite either."

"When I was young I looked and acted like a boy but with my teenage years came the changes you see. Now I find it increasingly difficult to even imagine myself living as a tennis mad boy. Perhaps to the person I become in 50 years, if they watch this interview you are filming today, the person standing here will seem almost a stranger - just like when your grand children will look at today's pictures of Bilbao and this museum in their history books."

Chapter 32

On Thursday morning I waved goodbye to the Dougans and started on the varnish work - a case of making the most of the sun while it shone. Strange doesn't begin to describe my feelings being the centre of everyone's attention one day and the insignificant bottom of the social heap the next.

"Make the most if it girl" I said out loud to myself putting extra effort in with the scraper on an area that needed taking back to bare wood.

"Make the most of what?" came an almost echo.

"You know that you're in trouble if you talk to yourself then hear an answer!" I said turning with a smile on my face to find my 'echo' was a deeply tanned woman of about 30 with a mass of sun-bleached hair that was clearly a stranger to stylists. "My name is Venus and I'm a gleamoholic" I confessed. "That is someone addicted to making things gleam if you wondered"

"My name is Bonny and I walk everywhere, carry everything and always pay cash," she replied holding up a propane bottle by way of explanation.

"Tea?" I offered - a traditional suggestion among Brits which is tailored to "Coffee?" for Americans and "Wine?" for French visitors.

I would but I left my husband Pete with the kids so he"ll need a cuppa too and I've got the gas. We're on 'Daydreamer' over at C dock so please come by in 30 minutes and meet my family.

Half way down C dock, cake offering in hand, dock I spotted it. Too far out to grab, a cat was in the water paddling frantically! Call me soft but I couldn't let it drown so I stripped off my t-shirt and 'too expensive to ruin bra' and jumped in the water. Naturally it refused to be rescued swimming away from me around a boat as I tried to grab it. Valiantly I followed just in time to see it climbing a ladder that had been left hanging over the boat's side. Looking around I saw no easy way out of the water for myself other than to trail after the bloody cat.

"Good morning Venus." The head rising through the companionway inches from my nose was instantly recognisable…

"You're stalking me!"

Jean-Luc swept up the cat in a small towel and reaching below found a larger one which he passed to me. "We meet at my pub. You come to my work and now, bare-breasted, you board my boat accusing me of stalking you… . Crazy English women!"

"You know each other then?" came Bonny's words from the dock where she stood holding a baby about 3 months old. "Jean-Luc, perhaps you would like to join us for coffee on Daydreamer"

"A pleasure Bonny. You are always so kind and the reference to English women in no way includes you."

"Or me!" I inadvertently blurted, being uncomfortably aware that through filming yesterday's interview Jean-Luc had learnt I was if anything Welsh not English and not entirely a woman. To cover my blushes I picked up a dock hose as I stepped off Jean-Luc's boat, to wash the harbour water from myself and my hair. An unsuccessful ploy it turned out as when I glanced up I saw Jean-Luc instead of following Bonny was following instead, with his eyes, my every move!

Once washed and re-dressed, a few minutes later I was in Bonny's cockpit pinned down by a gurgling 3 month old baby that had been plopped in my lap the moment I sat - an imprisonment soon compounded by visitors from other boats sat either side and an 8 year old squatting behind me determined to use my inability to escape as an opportunity to practice on my hair, her pigtail technique.

That began nearly 3 weeks of living a lifestyle that before I'd never even known existed. Racing sailors, weekending sailors, holidaying sailors and ocean voyaging sailors I'd met but it never occurred to me that there were people for whom their boat whilst not a house-boat was their full-time home. As paid crew of an expensive boat I was a marginal member of this floating village but Jean-Luc's boat was his home when he wasn't away filming and for some reason the two of us were treated as a couple, albeit a couple that didn't live or sleep together and barely talked.

Days, very long days, were taken up with boat work as I completed Alistair's maintenance list while raising her appearance to boat-show level. The evenings though were an education as boats took turns to host get togethers and the sailors of these boats had been everywhere, got into every scrape imaginable and loved to talk. Jean-Luc was treated as a goldmine of technical information being not so much as a technical geek as a man without an agenda to promote.

On people Jean-Luc was more erratic being an acute observer of what people did but with seemingly no idea why they did it. Maybe that is why one evening he observed as Pete sat feeding the baby, "New fathers become more attractive to women who want babies." Complete rubbish as a theory but I noticed Bonny never after that left Pete alone with 38 year old Rachel from E dock!

Everything comes to an end and on Tuesday, 10th of October, Jean-Luc and I pushed our trolleys into the new Bilbao airport terminal . Nicknamed La Paloma (The Dove), maybe the surroundings made me inclined to make peace with Jean-Luc. I was flying to London and he to Cape Town. Perhaps we'd never meet again and through everything he'd been kind and patient. Yes he was often as annoying as hell but perhaps that was because he saw in me things in me I wasn't ready to acknowledge to myself?

Whatever it was I kissed him. A full on the lips kiss. He at first seemed frozen, arms limp by his side, until slowly his left hand rose to the small of my back, his right to the nape of my neck as first his lips then his tongue began to move. As my head went back my right knee bent as my foot left the floor and…

I was still in some shock from the kiss when the plane on which Alistair had arranged a seat for me on its private company flight to London City Airport, went through its final approach and I suddenly experienced a gut twisting cramp and lights behind my eyeballs exploded!

Chapter 33

Litara was squeezing my hand when I opened my eyes in the ambulance. "Hold on Venus. Hold on. We're almost there! Hold on! She got permission to phone Mr Pitt and I heard arrangements being made to divert the ambulance, but that is the last I heard until I woke in a hospital bed.

I struggled to raise my head and a nurse appeared holding a glass of water for me to sip. "Is it cancer? Am I dying?"

"No, you aren't dying but you will have to wait for the doctor to explain. Your sister is here though and she may know more. Litara leant in to hug me at that moment…

"You silly cow, fancy scaring me like that!" The words were angry but the relief on her face said it all. All she knew was that a blocked blood supply had caused my pain and that although it had been dangerous the danger was past.

"What are you doing here at all? Alistair Dougan gave me a train ticket to Cardiff and I was going straight from the airport onto the train!"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Litara pouted. "I've been here all day worried stiff about you so now you can wait until tomorrow for my news! Until then tell me all about your adventures…"

I did try and I know she laughed about Concorde but before many minutes I had to call a halt, suggesting I needed sleep and she needed to get back to work so she left with a promise to be in next day.

I next woke with the arrival of Mr Pitt. The nurse said he would explain and explain he did calling after his regular hours just to do it.

"You had a very close call Venus and gave the surgeon quite an education."

"You didn't operate?"

"I'm good but not that good, although I did assist! You got the best in the best in London and she found amongst other things you had an ovarian torsion ready to create all sorts of ructions in your body!"

"Ovarian? Does that mean I have ovaries?"

" An ovary yes! It is immature but appears a functional ovary and you also have a uterus although together they've developed twisted like a pretzel and the blood supply to your ovary has never been good. Add to that some recent movement twisted the ovarian artery cutting off the remaining blood supply and creating in the process an aneurysm that looked ready to burst. You were one very lucky girl to be where you were when that happened or you would have at best lost your ovary and at worst died."

"Where does that leave me then? It sounds as though the two of you had fun in the operating theatre but what have I got left and what's gone?"

"Your penis hasn't gone if that is what you are wondering. What was done was similar to a Caesarean section and that is the type of scar you will see. Your uterus and ovary have been secured in a better position to develop normally, with internal stitches that will dissolve, rather like planting out potted flowers into the garden.

While doing that we did find some other variations in your body, in particular you don't have the prostate of a male but rather what appear to be female Skene's glands. To be positive you won't ever get prostate cancer and it tends to confirm too that in glandular terms your female development has been stronger than the male. Your penis is intact but to be realistic, if the uterus develops normally and it is what you wish, I will recommend we use the skin to construct a vagina for you."

"To get down to practicalities Venus, get a good night's sleep after I leave because I want you out of bed tomorrow morning. We'll have the dressing off and catheter out tomorrow and all being well you might be able to go home the day after."

"Charles? I never realised you had such a sense of humour! I'm at death's door, you cut me in half then pat me on the head and tell me to go home - I bet you don't treat other women who've had a caesarean like that!!"

"Venus you just lost a bet! You lot are stronger than frail males like me so that's the way it's done. Now get to sleep and I'll see you tomorrow."

Why hospitals pretend the middle of the night is next day I'm not certain but next day I was up breakfasted and walking unfettered by noon with even my sitting time interrupted by ankle exercises to reduce the chance of blood clots. A good-sized if bland lunch followed and then Mr Pitt breezed through, gave me a brief inspection and pronounced me ready to leave next day presuming I'd had a bowel movement by then.

Litara arrived next with her laptop only to refuse to share her news with me once she heard I could leave next day. Well if she was going to act like that there was no way I'd share my news about the interview let alone about Jean-Luc so instead we talked about Grandma Tina and Bill who were now openly living in sin which meant that instead of me at 18 being the one who was being tut-tutted it was my 75 year old grandmother who was kicking up her heels which of course, for the thousandth time, led me to pump Litara about her love-life but as usual I got nowhere so…

"Do you think either of us will have children?" I asked and Litara just wrapped me in her arms and gently rocked me which is what we all really want rather than talk at the big moments in our lives.

Peering into the toilet bowl next morning I couldn't deny having fulfilled Mr Pitt's leaving requirements but I was stuck for something to wear. My baggage was missing and I'd been cut out of the capri pants I'd been wearing when rushed into hospital. Luckily I had a sister looking out for me who had not only tracked down my missing bag but brought in a dress which while not my style, resembling as it did a tent, would keep me warm in the English autumn without pressure on my scar or revealing odd dangly bits which I couldn't tuck.

OMG I just said 'my style' when I hadn't been aware I had a style. I knew there were women and even some men whose whole essence revolves around clothes but I'd been barely aware of making any choices beyond practical requirements. "Where's my makeup?"

"Calm down little sister. Here's your handbag and we are only going to the flat you visited before for a couple of days convalescence not to the Paris fashion shows!"

My warm feelings of gratitude to Litara lasted right through the drive to the flat and into the evening until she put on the huge plasma screen television and told me to sit down because I needed to see something. It seemed my news about the interview was no news to Litara because she'd already seen it!

"The company making 'Bilbao Reborn' only filmed your interview because my company paid them to as cost effective footage for our programme on your journey. However having seen the results they are willing to pay rather well to incorporate it into their own programme which will be aired this Christmas."

With that Litara slipped in the DVD and I lived through the most confusing 5 minutes of my life…

Chapter 34

"That isn't me! It doesn't even look like me!!"

"I've known you since the day you were born and even I find it difficult to believe you could look and talk like that. You stood there, 100% young female, but in a way that anyone, men included, could relate to. That is unusual for a woman to be able to do at any age but I've never seen it in an 18 year old before"

"But if I did it again today the result would be totally different. That day I had surprise on my side to to carry my point, the way I learnt watching you. I might wish I were as secure in myself as that person, but that isn't me!"

"Nobody expects you to repeat it Venus, but with that as an introduction to you and to the series you have given the project a whole new level of credibility. It will open doors but at the expense of you becoming a public figure once it is aired at Christmas in 11 weeks time."

"What if I wasn't here?"

"Do you mean hide from the press behind closed doors or do you mean in disguise?

" Neither, I mean on a boat in the middle of the Atlantic!"

Litara seemed to take my suggestion as fatuous but I knew from the chats I'd had with yachties in Bilbao that several yachts would set out from November onward for the Caribbean so it was the right time of year. As long as I ignored the fact that less than 60 hours before I'd been on an operating table; that I didn't have a boat, enough money or friends to sail with willing to accept my extra bit, there was no problem!

"I'll take your silence as meaning you'll think about it then Litara?" Naturally I had to duck as I said it to escape the inevitable thrown cushion but I knew that I'd provoked her enough to treat my idea seriously.

I'd have loved to do some serious shopping for warmer clothes while in London but my surgery was still fresh so I used Litara's laptop to look for things locally on eBay which is how I happened to be wearing the brightest floral jumpsuit I'd ever seen when Litara got in on Friday evening.

"Whatever possessed you to buy that?" she demanded.

"It has no waist to rub my surgery scar, it cost £2 and I only had to travel on the lift because the woman selling it lives in the building."

"You were done! She should have paid you to take it away" she said donning her sun glasses.

"You won't want to see what else I bought then!" I retorted, which was a bit pointless with the evidence hanging on the back of the door she had just entered in the form of another jumpsuit and an exuberantly designed coat .

"Who stole my sister and put this alien here? I bet it was those doctors who stole your brain and filled the space with oestrogen!"

I really couldn't see what the fuss was about. Clothes are clothes, they keep out the cold, off the rain and prevent sunburn while stopping you from being arrested. What more was there?

Although Saturday was the first day that Mr Pitt thought I should contemplate making the journey to Cardiff we made two stops along the way to stretch our legs so it was pretty easy. What I hadn't expected was how strange it felt. A month away isn't long but at 18, after a sheltered life and with so many recent changes in a very short time, I felt significantly different from the girl I'd been… Whoops - would I forget in time I'd been a… I couldn't think it…even to myself! Very odd!

Although mum knew we were coming I phoned ahead to warn her of our arrival time when we were 30 minutes away having no idea that she would use those minutes to arrange for just about the whole family to be there for tea.

"If you love your dad please go along with everything Tina, your Mum and Sophie suggest." Dad whispered to Litara and I before we were ushered into the lounge. There was a lot of hugging and quizzing to be done as all the phone calls in the world couldn't satisfy my family's hunger for gruesome medical details and Grandma Tina broke every social etiquette rule in the book at the news of my ovary when she literally said "I told you so! I told you she was a girl!"

The reason for the tolerance toward Grandma became obvious when she pulled out a folder of photos announcing "As Litara and Venus are to be my bridesmaids I want them to have the final choice on their dresses."

This was wrong on so many levels! First I'd assumed the wedding was to be at a registry office. Wrong! Second bridesmaids were little girls. Wrong, those are flower girls and bridesmaids should be single and of marriageable age! Third the dresses were for summer temperatures while I thought the wedding was to be soon as, to put it bluntly, the couple were 75 and 77 years old. Right and right where two rights make a… Wrong! The wedding was to be soon, as in New Year's Eve but in The Dominican Republic.

"That is so romantic Grandma but I won't be able to be a bridesmaid," and I went on to explain about the Bilbao interview with the Christmas showing of the programme which would bring out the press hoards ready to destroy our family maybe even getting photographers to invade the wedding.

"You're so kind to offer to give up being a bridesmaid for me" Grandma said, kissing me on the cheek. "You mustn't worry about that though as you won't be with me. You'll be with Bill and Isaac sailing to the wedding!"

Chapter 35

Let me tell you a secret. If you are asked to be a bridesmaid and told you have a choice, do not in any way believe the choice is real!! Litara and I chose simple violet satin dresses as the alternative was one of the pink monstrosities worn by great nieces at the last family wedding in Samoa (traditional tattoos optional). No dithering was possible if we were to have any chance to quiz the men about the sail to the wedding that had been casually mentioned by Grandma so we were essentially steamrollered by the senior manipulating expert of the family.

Boat talk adjourned to the kitchen where I learnt, much to my relief, that there was no plan for the three of us to fit in Bill's little boat Molly. Instead we would be flying to Las Palmas de Grand Canaria, about 1,500 nm (nautical miles, see Ch29) South-Southwest of Cardiff (it's Spanish but off the Atlantic coast of Morocco) then sail 3,000 nm West to the Dominican Republic in a catamaran designed like a hotel, having 8 double cabins in its 82 foot length and 33 foot beam. To prevent the trip being too arduous there was a professional skipper, a cordon bleu chef and another paid crew. The only 'slight' drawback was that although the boat was mechanically and domestically functional (it was on charter as we spoke) there had been a lightning strike which fried every piece of electronics on board so we would have to replace it all whilst crossing the Atlantic so it would be ready for its Bahamian charter bookings.

Looking directly at each man I had to ask "Are you two doing this for me?"

"Absolutely no way," said Dad. "I'll earn much more doing this than I would over a December in the yard."

"And your Grandma swears that once we're married she isn't going to let me go off sailing leaving her at home, so this is my last chance for the open ocean" added Bill.

Very clearly stated by both, yet I believed neither, although Litara only heard my suggestion about hiding from the press in the Atlantic after this must have been set up, while I was in Spain… Maybe I'm not the centre of the universe after all.

Sunday morning I restarted taking my morning temperature having missed 4 days with the hospital and everything. Frustratingly it was 98.2°F the same as when I left England - while in Spain it had been 98.7°F - is our blood cooler in colder weather or was it something else? After breakfast I went across the road to Serena's and shared the gory details of ambulances, surgeons and discoveries then showed off my new scar.

That calmed us a bit so we looked up the temperature thing on the internet without success but that led to me showing her the shareyourworld..com link and I thought she would explode! It seems you can be excited at seeing yourself on film and want to share it, but at the same time acutely embarrassed to see yourself on film and afraid others will see it. Life was so much simpler in the old days when we were 17 and immune to any embarrassment as we photographed each other being gross.

At a more normal level there was news to catch up with about George and her - what started hot had rapidly gone tepid. They hadn't so much broken up as not bothered to make dates which meant that, when George left for university, she didn't feel too bad about going to a movie with her replacement tennis sparring partner. That meant I in turn had to tell her about meeting Jean-Luc again at the television interview where I made my past public knowledge.

"I suppose it wasn't completely weird that he was the cameraman because these film people often seem to work together on different jobs like in that film 'Degrees of Separation' with Will Smith."

"I thought that was Kevin Bacon?"

"Kevin Bacon was probably in it too with Jean-Luc filming so it was inevitable that I'd end up on his boat with my boobs out!"

"To recap, having wrongly accused him of lying in the pub you tell him you grew up as a boy and then stick your bare boobs in his face. Anything else you want to tell me?"

"For some reason the people on the other boats in the marina treated us as a couple even though we're not, except at the airport leaving I kissed him and he kissed me back!"

"With your luck in this non-relationship with Jean-Luc, you'll be the first girl to get pregnant from a kiss!"

Further debriefing between Serena and I had to be postponed at that point but she did give me a lift to the marina where I'd made arrangements to meet Bill. First things first and I returned his sextant and almanac to their spot by the companionway - I hadn't had many opportunities for sights but enough to feel protective of the beautifully built antique sextant.

"Enjoying some 'me time' Bill?" I asked aware that Grandma was probably turning his life upside-down. He smiled. "I've waited a long time for Litara and her 'little ways' aren't likely to drive me away so soon. I asked you to join me so we could have a chat about your inheritance."

"I didn't like to push you but the whole family is probably itching to find out what 'my property, estates and titles' actually means!"

"I'm an investor." Bill explained. "You might have heard of nonprofit organisations which aren't owned and as the name implies don't look to make cash profit… What I inherited and want to pass on to you is similar except I do own it and do look to make a profit!"

"Who did you inherit from Bill? You've never mentioned family."

"I had family growing up and inherited from my grandmother which is the way it has always worked, skipping generations, since it was set up by Calum Garbh MacLeod nearly 500 years ago. He was in today's terms a pirate but a pirate with an eye for the future. These pirates lived from hand-to-mouth but intead of handing the booty to the men he sailed with he used it to enable them and their families to become ‘legitimate’ - to fish, farm, weave, brew, mine and the like. Some of those original acquisitions are still part of the inheritance others were sold and the proceeds reinvested. Over the years the trust has grown quite significantly."

"So that makes you a Laird?"

" Not really although that title goes with some of the lands. A Laird uses land to make money for the family while the trust uses money to make opportunities for the future. The trust if you like plants trees that others may one day cut down."

"But you could cut down the trees or sell the land to the highest bidder and spend the lot on yourself?"

"Yes, but what would be the point? I've invested in people and possibilities I care about, much of which would be destroyed, My grandmother set my income at 1% of 1% of the value of the trust each year which is enough money that I don't need to liquidate. When I die the same will be true for you except because of its growth I am cutting your income to ½% of 1% clear of taxes."

"That doesn't make sense. You are having a very expensive boat built and no 1% of 1% would buy that!"

"True, but I'm not having the boat built, the trust and I are! The trust owns the yard building the carbon fibre hull, the trust owns your father's sheds where it will be fitted out, the trust owns the sailmakers loft and a substantial share of the company supplying the new generation of batteries. The trust will own most of the boat!"

"If the trust is that big how much is ½% of 1% ?"

"About £50,000 a year, and yes you will be a billionairess…"

Chapter 36

"Bill? Will you be able to trust me?" Bill had volunteered to drop me off home on his way to Grandma Tina's and I was trying to imagine what inheriting a billion pounds would be like if he died.

"‘Will you be able to trust yourself’ is more the question and part of me wishes you'd say 'Keep your stupid inheritance!'".

"I've thought it would be nice to be rich so I could have a car… Maybe even very rich so I didn't have to worry about what I spent, although that's starting to be creepy, A billion pounds though… that's 10 billion Chinese yuan but I don't know what you can buy in China with a yuan…"

After dinner at home, in her place at the kitchen sink Venus glanced across at her mother browsing through the television section of the Sunday paper. Her mum's birthday was next Friday and Venus wanted to get something special to mark what seemed a real mother/daughter relationship improvement but Bill's bombshell news wasn't helping Venus at all! The prospect of huge amounts of money changed so many of her assumptions - what value was there in the hard work and self-sacrifice her mum had invested that couldn't be bought with cash?

"Venus, you are an absolute genius if I say so myself!" I was in fact saying so to myself as I got into bed (alone) that night and nobody else would say it but I had talked to Dad, Litara, the restaurant and Evan fixing details for a Birthday dinner at the new Mermaid Quay development.

Having been told I'm heir to a massive fortune, the first thing I found was that I couldn't bring myself to tell my family and now, instead of having dreams of a life of luxury, at 5 am I'm in the shower washing off the sweat of nightmare visions of people in agony begging for my help!

Outside in the early sun I would have liked to jog but my surgical stitches said no. They didn't however stop me enjoying a gentle 3 mile walk to blow away the cobwebs before rejoining my family for breakfast.

"Who's our GP Mum?" For all my recent medical adventures I hadn't seen a regular NHS doctor in 3 years and was suddenly feeling health conscious to the extent I was eating muesli, fruit and yoghurt instead of a regular bowl of cornflakes. It was mid-October and in 6 weeks I'd be making a transatlantic voyage that could take a month despite almost dying just 6 days ago. An independent reality check was definitely in order and, with Mums information, I made an appointment for the GP's evening surgery

Some of my medical costs were covered by the NHS but others through Litara's company so I asked her advice. Being super rich in 10 or 20 years wouldn't keep me from being bankrupt today if I weren't very careful. Dad didn't want me working until I'd healed, even on sit down jobs at the yard so money was soon going to be a real issue.

The other other thing I desperately wanted was a very long private talk with Bill. Only a few people locally seemed to know he was 'a bit 'well off' and only I and maybe Alistair Dougan knew that he was seriously wealthy - the more I thought about it the more sensible that seemed. Luckily that fitted with Bill's plans for business in the city for the morning followed by a free afternoon.

How do the unemployed and unemployable cope with all that time? I lasted until 10 am before catching the bus into town wearing Litara's idea of a hoodie . My plan was a visit to the library but a quick visit to see Kelly resulted in me lying flat on my back in the upstairs salon being used as a model for eyebrow shaping and eyelash extensions It seems that Monday mornings, being quiet, were used by the staff to practice on each other. Kelly swore it was the teacher who 'did me' as a demonstration and maybe to entice me to become a regular customer once I became rich and famous from the television show Kelly had dropped into conversation. Being pampered could be addictive but maybe its main attraction was to entertain the unemployed or unemployable rich. I wouldn't succumb except maybe for Christmas, and for Birthdays, and for… My visit to the library ended up being a bit rushed!

Bill was waiting at the café where he pulled out a seat for me and I sat with a thank you before realising how much we had both moved on in our reactions to each other since our first meeting when we launched Molly.

"Why me Bill? I'm not a blood relative and have no useful skills so why chose me for this job?"

"The fact that you call it a job shows my choice may have been a good one but it hasn't been my entirely free choice. By Calum MacLeod's rules the person who inherits has to be between 18 and 36 and single. They have to be willing to accept it and common humanity also rules out anyone whose life, I think, would be destroyed by the inheritance."

"Nothing about this is as simple as I thought when I accepted and I'm very tempted to walk away from the whole thing so please help me with it as much as you can. For instance your life appears to be pretty normal with most people not knowing about how rich you are…"

"Privacy was easier before the internet. For now anyone who googles Venus Williams will learn about an American tennis star but that won't shield you once you are on television. I live within my income not my wealth and that seems to help - big spenders tend to be better known for spending big than for what and who they care about."

Despite all my confusion about the inheritance my mind was beginning to go blank. "There's a lot more I need to know but just from what you've said so far… what happens if I die or you live beyond my 36th birthday?"

Chapter 37

"You aren't the first potential inheritor there's been Venus and even now your potential successor has been picked. Also if we're both still alive in 18 years you only get my personal inheritance not the trust. About the most awkward thing would be if we both disappeared in December but there is even a legal backup for that. Assuming the trust comes to you eventually you in turn will be stuck with the problem of who to leave it to as it can't be split, only left to a single individual."

"Enough!! My head is spinning with repercussions. Has it been worth it? If you could go back and talk to a young you would you tell him ‘Run!’”

"For me accepting the inheritance worked. It's kept me involved, given me a sense of purpose…" he paused struggling for words. "Let's pay the bill and have a walk."

Some time later we were walking through Bute Park where the trees were showing the first signs of autumn and we could look up at Cardiff Castle . "There's a lot of history in this city Venus but you aren't really part of that history yet. To be part of something involves change - both things that we change and things that change us. With the trust, wherever you go and whatever you do, you will inevitably change and bring change around you."

"I follow what you're saying Bill. Merely live in the world or actively be part of it - 'Do, or do not. There is no try' .

"'May the force be with you' Venus."

"I'm going to enjoy having you as a Grandad, Bill! Can I start by being a manipulative granddaughter to get a lift with you to the doctor's surgery?"

Dr Jane Carter allowed me some space to get re-dressed after her examination while summing up her thoughts:

"You have a lot going for you Venus." - we'd been through the ‘born David Victor, called Dai, renamed Delia Venus, called Venus' conversation as though it were the most normal thing in the world. "There is no infection and thanks to your youth and fitness you are healing very quickly.

I'd say that 6 weeks would be too soon after a caesarean birth for the voyage you're contemplating but your surgery seems to have been less invasive than that. Although it will bear keeping an eye on, as long as you exercise without pushing the exercises too hard beforehand, you will probably be ok."

I can reassure you that the emergency treatment you have had will be covered by the NHS but not, I think, the earlier tests even though Mr Pitt's intervention influenced the operating theatre procedure. If it weren't for him and your appearance I imagine, if you presented as male two months ago with those acute symptoms, you might well have died before they knew what was wrong and in any case you would probably have been given a hysterectomy!"

I pulled out and showed my notebook where I was keeping my morning temperature records. "A very good idea for you to keep this up but at this stage the temperature change could be environmental or might have a hormonal cause. For now all we can do is play a waiting game."

"I'd like to take blood and saliva samples now with you coming back to see me and repeat those tests weekly for a while as your body readjusts. If you have any trouble between visits please don't hesitate to call me or go to A & E as it could be serious. Besides all that I'd like but cannot force you to see a psychiatrist. I'm not suggesting you are mentally ill but you have been through a lot with the possibility of more for you to deal with in the future. If you have future voluntary surgery the operating surgeon may well require a psychiatric report so doing this now could save time."

"Is that it then Dr Carter?" I asked once she had taken her samples and I had agreed to see the 'shrink'.

"Just one more particularly important piece of information I need." she replied. "Where did you get that top? I love it!"

I could see why. With dark hair and very pale skin the red hoodie would look very good on her but, "I'd love to tell you. But then of course, I'd have to kill you." I said in my best Sean Connery, Scottish accent.

"That would be tremendously ambitious of you. Dr Franklyn."

"I can't believe you recognised a ‘Hound of the Baskervilles' quote" I exclaimed, amazed.

"Actually I didn't. It was misquoted on last night's television so I googled to find it's source!"

Litara had cooked Caribbean chicken casserole and I got home just in time to join everyone for dinner. Mum seemed more reassured by news of my cleanish bill of health from Dr Carter than anything I'd passed on from the specialists but I knew the only true font of medical wisdom was Barbara the hairdresser who she trusted implicitly - 'go figure' as they say.

After clearing up I sat down with Litara for advice about my new purchases - Kelly had got me freebies from the salon but that hadn't stopped her selling me nail products "You deserve it girl" I think her words were and I was intrigued to try them at a time I wouldn't be giving my hands a hard time with work.

Litara was taken with my choice as was Mum - Dad, watching rugby on the television with occasional complaints about noise and smell escaped the session - so fingers and toes got an evening's pampering while we chatted. Mum liked my eyelashes and I told Litara about Dr Carter's keen response to the red top which took my mind to the doctor's beautifully kept nails on my tummy examining and…

Shit! After all this am I going to turn out to be lesbian? Where was I when the other girls were learning about this growing up? I hope the psychiatrist's appointment is soon!

Chapter 38

Tuesday morning and my bit of the world is full of people working or studying while I'm at home, bored and not even really feeling legitimately 'off sick'. Dad even got an unexpected Spanish omelet for breakfast because I wanted to be doing something… doing anything in fact.

My notebook came out and I started a 'List of Lists' starting with ① Recipes - if I was going to sail around the world that was a lot of home cooked meals with no local shop to run to for ingredients.
② Sewing - sails needed sewing and clothes needed repairing. ③ Exercises to keep fit at sea.

Having made a start on my lists I phoned Bill but Grandma Tina answered. "Venus, your playmate is in the bath. Would you like him to phone you later?"

Playmate indeed! I wondered if Bill had ever told Gran about the trust - would their marriage better survive if she knew or didn't know? "Nothing important Grandma, I was just wondering about progress on the new boat." ④ New things to learn to sail new type of boat. "If you'd please tell him I'll be out but he can call my mobile and I would appreciate it"

So a walk it was as I'd just talked myself into going out and at least the weather was holding. Through the allotments, full of Brussels sprouts at this time of year, to the road beyond and I was just getting into my stride when a bright flash of colour caught my eye. Gone almost before awareness had caught me I was ready to move on when it came again but this time i could see a huge macaw.

Following the parrot it seemed finally to find a tree to its liking where it peered down at me while I looked for inspiration. A nut bar in my bag seemed a good bait and a bit broken off and tossed to the parrot was deftly caught and relished. Unfortunately 15 minutes later I was still behind the tree, coat spread between my hands ready to pounce on the parrot lured by the nut bar left at the foot of the tree - the parrot either hadn't read the script or thought it demeaning to be caught so easily.

Picking up the nut bar plan B was put into operation and a ladder found in only the second garden I searched - probably stored there for the convenience of burglars. Ladder to tree then back to the first garden where I'd spotted one of those cat carriers, and everything was going wonderfully with myself and the carrier soon up the tree where I clearly showed the parrot the nut bar going into the carrier…

That was the moment two local children, who should have been at school, chose to steal the ladder and my phone rang. "Hello Granddad, it's nice of you to ring… Yes I'm aware I only call you Granddad when I want something… Yes I understand Grandma needs help with the shopping but I'm up this tree…" and with that I slammed the door of the cat carrier having at least caught the stupid parrot!

Granddad was there in his truck with a ladder on the roof-rack in only 20 minutes which was in turn a mere 10 minutes after a BBC Wales Outside Broadcast van pulled up and decided to film an impromptu interview with a member of the public who happened to be up a tree with a macaw.

In fairness the interviewer did hold the ladder as I came down so it is unjust for me to imagine it was to give the cameraman a good shot of the interviewer's face by the generous length of thigh I couldn't help displaying. As recompense I did manage to humiliate him, by which I mean of course rescue him on camera, when he got his finger nipped trying to 'interview' the macaw through the carrier's front bars.

"Excuse me," I said, reaching over to lift a small flap in the top of the carrier. The macaw quickly let go of the finger to stick its head out of the flap for a look around. "Olá. Bom dia" I said which was the limit of my Portuguese.

"Bom dia moça bonita" responded the macaw, maybe hoping for more nut bar.

"What's that mean?" was the interviewer's sole contribution so all I could add was "I don't know but macaws come from Brazil so I guess it's Portuguese."

"Where would you and your friend like to go?" asked Bill as we drove off.

"RSPCA I guess - and her name's Camilla"

"How do you know its female?"

"Honorary female for biting the interviewer and Camilla for being an old bird with gaudy plumage."

The RSPCA said they'd be more than happy to take in Camilla if necessary but suggested I might like to keep her with me for at least a while as parrots love company. They even shared their tea and biscuits with us while waiting for somebody to come and check Camilla over, which amounted to beak, claws and wing-feathers trim with a parasite spray.

Do you ever get the feeling you are being manipulated? One week maximum I told them as we left with Camilla on my arm wearing a harness and Bill carrying care instructions and a shoulder high perch for Camilla to use indoors.

By the time I got home I no longer had a day that it was a problem to fill; indeed I had barely enough time to prepare dinner. Things looked up though, first with mum's expression when she came through the door to come face to face with Camilla but that wasn't to be compared with mum and dad's reactions to the local television news which opened with a picture of me up a tree! Luckily they didn't show my legs but did show the interviewer being bitten which they compared to a popular 'ferret attacks interviewer' moment.

My moment over I was washing up so almost missed the final news that a viewer had phoned the television station to say the macaw was his!

Chapter 39

Imagining my immediate problems solved with Camilla going home and me getting a reward I waited but instead of a phone call from the television station the front door bell rang. Dad left us in the lounge to answer it only to return a minute later introducing two plain clothed policemen.

Camilla's owner wasn't the only viewer to phone the television studio that night, the second caller being a police specialist in exotic pet smuggling. The owner wanted my address or phone number so he could pick up Camilla and present me with a £1,000 reward but when the television station explained they couldn't give those details but would act as go-between, the owner only left a pay-as-you-go mobile phone number not his address.

This was enough to concern the police specialist when he phoned the station to check which quickly resulted in local detectives wanting me to phone the number and arrange a meeting somewhere away from our home yet safe for me. I wanted £1,000; the police wanted the owner in possession of Camilla whose DNA they hoped in time would prove her to be smuggled and my Da didn't want me anywhere near suspected smugglers!

"Hello. I'm so glad you recognised Camilla with me on the television - that's what I call her,do you like it? Anyway I can be at the entrance to the Mermaid Quay car park at 10 pm. You'll recognise me as I'll be the girl with the big macaw. Sorry I can't make it earlier but I'm with my disabled father and I can't leave him behind so I'll have to get him in the car first so see you at 10 then and thank you for the reward, you won't forget it will you? Bye."

"What?" I said looking around at bemused faces. "If he doesn't get time to talk he doesn't get time to object."

10 o' clock on the dot I opened the drivers door and got out lifting Camilla on a perch improvised from a walking stick. A few yards away at the same time two men got out of a car facing me so I waved as they approached.

"She's had her claws and beak trimmed and the vet gave me this spray bottle to do her feathers which you might like to have."

"Give me the bird you stupid girl!"

Why did he have to say that, which I suppose means I don't get my £1,000, when it could have been so easy? I gave him the bird, still on the stick, right in the face and sprayed the other man standing just behind his left shoulder straight in the eyes and ran.

By the time the police covered the 20 yards from behind the van which had been their cover, one man was screaming in agony from what appeared to be a broken leg and the second was unconscious on the ground being pecked by a very angry Camilla!

It was another 3 hours before we got home. I had been charged with assault with a parrot and spray bottle. My father had not been charged with anything for Mr Davis, our solicitor, pointed out that not even the injured parties could describe what had happened let alone the police from behind their van. It had to be presumed that the man with a parrot attacking his face stumbled into the one blinded by spray thus they injured each other

I of course was running away so saw nothing at the time the injuries occurred but I do remember my Uncle Jack's words the first evening I appeared as Venus,
“Just don't make Isaac angry."

Luckily by next morning Dad had decided if I was fit enough to catch parrots up trees and disable smugglers I was fit enough to sit at a work bench soldering tiny bits of electronics. It was either that or he was afraid to let me out of his sight.

Everything was set for a return to a nice quiet life but for the English. What is it with the English? Allowing for a little medical vagueness, I'm a nice, normal Afro-Hispanic Caribbean, Polynesian Welsh girl minding my own business but I have these neighbours over the River Severn, known as the English, who are fixated on animal stories, especially when the animals bite people, make politicians look even more foolish than usual or can be in any way linked to a dead parrot sketch. Americans may find this difficult to understand having a different attitude to animals but they like the rest of the world love a story where the British look weird.

I did have warning when my sister Litara phoned from London.

"Don't give any interviews to the press or television," she warned. "The media are picking up the parrot story. "Please don't tell me you still have the parrot!"

"No, the police have Camilla because she is evidence against the smugglers. They did want me to look after her for them but Mr Davis tried to use that to get the assault charges against me dropped as they couldn't both accuse me of using a parrot as a weapon then give it back to me."

I passed on the news to dad who in turn phoned mum to warn her but fortunately it seemed our address hadn't yet been found and Wednesday evening was uneventful with my biggest excitement a session with the zapping tweezers. Mum did call both Aunt Sophie and Grandma Tina to warn them which worked out well when as a result Bill came round to drop off the keys to his house which he offered to us for as long as we needed it, should we want a hiding place.

It was Thursday morning that the faecal matter impacted the oscillating rotating aerofoil.

Chapter 40

Mum answered the door just before she was due to leave for work to a very polite young man looking for Delia Williams. "I'm Joy Williams not Delia. Which is the Williams you are looking for again?"

He explained that he was Simon Snow with the South Wales Argus and was looking for the girl with a parrot who had been on the local television.

"You have the right place." mum reassured him, "and she will be here soon but if you are going to wait would you mind helping me put some suitcases into the car?"

The reporter was very good about helping carry the heavy suitcases down the stairs while I finished my tea and quietly washed up in the kitchen. Mum and the reporter had finished packing the car and were discussing a WWII bomber recently found off the coast by divers when I locked the front door behind me to join them opening the passenger seat door.

"I'm Delia Williams what did you want to ask me?"

The reporter seemed perplexed by my appearance from what was to him clearly an unexpected direction but gamely pulled himself together. "Did you receive £1,000 reward for the return to the owner of the parrot?"

"No I never received any reward and don't believe that the person who made that offer ever had any intension of paying it." At that moment two cars pulled up and their occupants joined us "The Mail" said one. "The Sun" from the other.

"South Wales Argos" I explained. "Nothing for us here. She's left." Then turning to our helper offered "Simon, if you hop in the back I will drop you off." which is how Simon Snow got the exclusive story that Camilla the macaw was helping police with their inquiries into an international exotic pets smuggling ring.

After dropping first Simon in town and then mum at her office I headed out to Bill's house on the North side of the city. Approaching I got out the keys along with the attached 'bippers' which remotely opened the sliding gates and garage roller door. I'm not sure what I was expecting but Bill's place was a 6 bedroom Victorian end-of-terrace cut off from general view by walls just over 6’ tall. On the left driving through the gates was the trailer we'd launched Molly from and about 40’ from the street was the door to the house's integral garage.

It felt strange entering alone a house I'd never been into before but I carried the bags into the hall through the connecting door from the garage then, first things first, checked the fridge. Typical man!

Phoning round put all the family in the picture regarding the press action so far but I thought we might have over-reacted with mum and dad remaining fine at home without me but Litara said that adding my gender situation and the assault charges the media wouldn't have left them alone. Bill and Grandma were pleased to know we had avoided the trouble and I warned Bill that everything in the fridge was for the tip as he'd forgotten to empty it before his marriage proposal and it had been turned off but unopened ever since!

The rest of the day I played housewife cleaning, settling us in and doing some shopping - I felt a bit paranoid shopping but had clear evidence that a brief appearance on local television cut no mustard in queues at the supermarket checkout. Dinner was lamb shanks slow cooking while I picked up mum from work, and we had a pleasant evening in once dad arrived from the yard.

Friday morning was mum's birthday and the move was worth it for her to be able to have the breakfast I made, in bed unbothered by invasive journalists. Although I was taking mum into work Litara was driving in from London to take pick her up, taking her to the hairdressers at 4 pm where I joined them but for only the lightest of trim and titivation in my case. Then it was back to Bill's for mum to finish getting ready.

My cunning little birthday plan worked just as I hoped. Evan appeared as we entered the restaurant to take a series of family photos of us at our best then disappeared while we enjoyed our meal looking out over Cardiff Bay. As we relaxed over final coffees Evan reappeared across the room with a Birthday wrapped parcel which I excused myself to go and pick up.

"You've got a problem!" he warned. "Earlier I saw the press were here for a concert at the nearby Millenium Centre but somebody may have recognised you and tipped them the nod because coming in just now I spotted a couple of reporters waiting outside the restaurant.

Thanking Evan I returned to give mum her Birthday present of a silver chased photo frame with our latest family portrait ready mounted. I think it worked but crying as an indicator is open to misinterpretation and she did have to head off for repairs so I took the moment to explain the situation to Litara and ask her to take mum and dad home in her car before she followed mum into the restroom.

Dad was paying the waiter and left alone with him I did what daughters have done many times before and borrowed his car keys, Time to face the press!

"Miss Williams, why are you walking free when two men you attacked required hospital attention?"

I didn't stop but couldn't stop myself replying as I headed for Dad's car, "Because in this country the accused are presumed innocent until proven guilty."

"So why were you accused indeed charged with assault?"

"Sometimes for one person accused of a crime to be found innocent it is necessary to accuse another!"

By this time I was in Dad's car and driving off but another car had at the same moment pulled up and the reporters jumped in it to follow me.

So far so good and I was aware that the journalists had only got a few innocent photos and stock replies. Everything would work out in the end unless the press found where I was living so I gave them a 30 minute tour of Cardiff before driving down the road past Bill's house tapping both remote control bippers as I did. 100 yards on I turned right and then right again but this time sharply using the handbrake so the car faced back the way I'd come. The reporters car was going fast as I passed it going in the opposite direction so with a left turn and left again into Bill's now open entrance I hit the gate close remote button and prayed!

Chapter 41

Somehow I didn't find it necessary to tell Mum about the journalists last night. Does that make me a bad daughter, a considerate daughter or just normal? What I was around lunch time is one very happy girl because Mr Davis phoned to say all charges against me had been dropped as the two men had pleaded guilty to smuggling the parrot. The reason I was charged at all was in case they were or at least couldn't be proved not to be innocent or as Mr Davis put it "So the police had their ass covered if it turned out you'd attacked innocent men who were ready to sue!"

As the police no longer needed me as a witness Litara thought it safe to go home but Dad vetoed the idea saying Sunday would be soon enough, which might be connected to watching Samoan International rugby player Apollo Perelini play on Bill's big screen TV.

Normal domestic life can be a luxury when it looks as though you've lost it. Saturday afternoon Litara and I shopped. Sunday, while the others moved back home, Bill and I went for a sail on Molly (although Bill would only let me steer). Monday I saw Dr Carter who hummed and hawed over results, took more samples then, having seen me on the television, told me off like a child for tree climbing when she had specifically told me 'No over-exertion'. During the week days I did gentle work with Dad and in the evening usually spent time with Serena, Jenny, Evan and Andy. Everything was going smoothly until the second Monday…

"You don't really seem to be much of anything do you?"

I'd been given an appointment for 3:30 pm on Tuesday 31st October to see Dr Marjorie Stanhope at the Hospital's Psychiatry Dept. and I thought it had been going well. She did treat me as a woman, unlike the way Dr Edwards behaved at the same hospital, and I'd answered her questions as well and as honestly as I could. I had even told her about Janice Wheeler behind the bike sheds. Trouble didn't come until she asked if I had any more questions and I asked "Do you think I'm a lesbian?"

"You don't really seem to be much of anything do you?"

What a bitch! Sitting there on her high horse judging me as unworthy of any respect. "Not being willing to jump into bed with every Jack, Jill and Pat doesn't make me a nothing! I'm Delia Venus Williams. I'm a woman and I have family and friends I love and who love me which is more than you probably have you arrogant bitch!"

Hospital doors don't slam and they should!

Finding myself stuck in town with nobody to strangle and an appointment at 5pm with Dr Carter - she'd moved our Monday appointment so she could ask how I'd got on with the shrink! - I headed for McDonalds whose offering of fat, salt, sugar and E numbers masquerading as burger, fries and apple pie washed down with coke did for me what no healthy salad could.

By the time of my appointment with Dr Carter I had rejoined the human race and she seemed in a happy mood too. While she was looking at my sample results from last week I got out my temperature readings to add to her records and we talked about Halloween celebrations for that evening while she took fresh samples.

"Would you mind taking off your top and skirt then hopping on the table, I'd like to run the ultra sound over your tummy?"

Soon I was covered in goo and the doctor was running her scanner over me with the intensity of one of those treasure hunters you see with metal detectors…

"How have you been feeling physically?"

"No pain if that's what you mean, but haven't felt like doing my morning walk the last couple of days." She felt my breasts. '"They're a bit tender!"

"Appetite?"

"Not much but I just scoffed a hamburger and fries so I won't starve."

"So how did you get on with Dr Stanhope?"

"She doesn't like me." I said drawing in a deep breath… then I burst into tears!

"I don't think you have to worry about her not liking you as she called me concerned for you."

Hearing that oddly didn't help at at all but I was aware I was in a busy doctor's office so pulled myself together.

"I think you had better be prepared for surgery early in the New Year. I'm going to recommend that you are examined in 2 to 3 weeks, if possible by the surgeon who recently operated. It appears that your uterus is thriving with an improved blood supply and your hormones as Dr Stanhope succinctly suggested are going into overdrive."

The world doesn't stop for news and having dad's car I had to pick him up at the yard so that we could be home in time for the dinner mum had cooked - a meal for which I had of course entirely spoilt my appetite. They both naturally wanted to hear how the psychiatrist's appointment had gone but I persuaded them to wait until later. After dinner we went through to the lounge to watch some television and Dad was heading for his usual armchair but…

"Please Dad, will you sit with me?" So we settled on the sofa where I tucked my feet under me, grasped hold of his arm with both hands and cuddling in to his enormous shoulder…… went to sleep.

Chapter 42

"So what now?" Mum asked as we ate our breakfast. "Has the GP made you an appointment?"

I'd woken with no memory of getting to bed but feeling ready for the day so after my morning walk, as we ate our breakfast, mum and dad got the details of yesterday's doctors' appointments (minus my more emotional moments).

"I'm calling Mr Pitt and Litara. She's the one who knows how to arrange things and I want Mr Pitt and the surgeon who operated 3 weeks ago. Although the GP didn't think they would operate again until the new year in the meantime I want to give my body the best chance possible."

Surprisingly the number I had for Mr Pitt was his own mobile and after I described the GP's examination he said he'd be delighted to cooperate and make arrangements through Litara who I gave my authority once I'd brought her up-to-date.

Dad and I went to the yard together where mid-morning we were joined by Bill who was full of himself with the progress being made on the new hull which he thought could be delivered in January for Dad's work to commence. In particular he liked what sounded like a car's roll-bars which went over the cockpit. These were important to Dad who had been waiting for their real dimensions to order solar panels to fill the space between the arches so as well as providing power they would create an open sided roof over the cockpit

"I think 'Bubblegum Pink'." I interjected. That halted them in their tracks and they waited for an explanation. "Dad, you're covering the boat in equipment, Bill, you are so keen on carbon fibre that you have forgotten that carbon fibre is black. I'm the one who has to live on this boat and Litara has to think in terms of attracting an audience so I thought maybe we should paint it 'bubblegum pink'?"

"Over my dead body!" sums up the reaction of both Dad and Bill, for once in complete agreement although they did see that black wasn't a real option. A colour chart 'happened' to be on the work bench and I gave them space to argue colour schemes with a little guidance such as pointing out that plain white was too bland to be memorable.

About 40 minutes later it was agreed that tangerine and white with a very thin black line seperating them would work and I pulled out some photos from my bag of a butterfly to symbolise sails, and a paper nautilus (known as an argonaut which is an octopus in a boat-like shell named after Jason and the Argonauts who sailed the Argo).

Bill was over-the-moon at the images, one or both of which he could see as a logo for the boat if it reached the production stage. My Da just looked at me… "How did you ever persuade me that you were a boy?"

It was over 2 weeks before anything disrupted our peaceful Welsh lives when Litara, after a weekend in Cardiff drove me on the Monday morning to the London flat, which by now I was convinced must belong to her unknown lover - I admit that between shopping, cleaning and exploring the area I did look for clues but to no avail!

I'd been warned that my appointment the following day with Mr Pitt would be similar to my first at the clinic with scans and biopsy so no breakfast, but there would be other doctors also actively taking part in the examination. Litara made an early start Tuesday morning on driving me to the clinic and seemed nervous, explaining that two of the doctor were particularly interested in my unique anatomy and I shouldn't expect much in the way of bedside manners but if I phoned her when they were done she'd treat me to a decent meal.

Charles met me in reception and as we reached the imaging department before the others arrived he took time to describe my surgeon, "She has the hands of an angel and demeanour of a dockworker." This surgeon was a specialist in Mayer-Rokitansky-Küster-Hauser syndrome (MRKH) which results in 1 in 5000 women being born with an underdeveloped or no vagina and uterus and with her was a research scientist who specialised in the artificial growth of human tissue. Go to the butcher's and buy a piece of steak. Once back home lay it on a board and pound it with a hammer. After an hour with my doctors that steak is what I felt like both in the sense of pounded and of hungry.

After the examination and tissue extraction, alone again with Charles, he summed up the situation. "A human body is a construct of organs and glands held in place and given shape by connective tissue. The skin is an organ and in your case genetically XY. Ovaries and the uterus are also organs which in your case are genetically XX. Connective tissue both holds in place and separates the organs and glands and your genetically XX(y) connective tissue has done a good job in maintaining your jigsaw puzzle body.

Today we have seen not only that you have healed well and your uterus is what we would expect in a 9 or 10 year old but you have a cervix which wasn't obvious before. This gives choices, none of which are perfect but doing nothing is no longer an option:-
1. even if you choose to live as an infertile male, or an infertile female with the best sexual reassignment surgery available (SRS), you will still need a hysterectomy as menses is likely to start in about a year;
2. from cells harvested today the scientist will be trying to grow tissue on a collagen fibre base which, if you choose to attempt to live as a fully fertile woman, we hope will be accepted as a graft by both your cervix and a vaginal opening we can construct from your penis and scrotal skin in time consolidating to give full female fertility, but however with a high risk of serious infection leading to tissue damage or even death;
3. if the graft fails you will then need a hysterectomy and the vagina formed by surgery will be blind ended and due to skin loss probably not as deep as that created during the more normal vaginoplasty of SRS.

This is a big decision to make Venus but please let me know your decision as soon as possible as the artificially grown tissue created from today's harvesting will be ready in 6 to 7 weeks, just after New Year.

Chapter 43

Appetite gone! Maybe it was my interpretation but I left Charles feeling there were 4 possibilities:- infertility, infection, incapacity or death from infection or inaction.

Rather than wait for Litara in reception I phoned to say I was going to Tower Bridge and would call later in the day to arrange a get-together. I turned my phone off and walked first to Westminster Bridge back-tracking the route I taken the first time I'd gone to the clinic and then decided I wanted to cross as many bridges as was practical on my way downstream to Tower Bridge.

Bridges are special: much water flows under them; they are not to be burnt before or after you cross them; to be tested before you cross them; but not to be crossed before you get to them, and they're rarely repaired before someone falls in! There were a lot of similarities between my situation today and Bill's nearly 60 years earlier in being unexpectedly confronted with infertility then making a new life with a huge amount of financial power to wield. Bill's life didn't seem so bad and he was even going to marry the love of his life. I had more possibilities than him for with surgery, including a hysterectomy, I could choose to live as either a man or a woman, something unrealistic for Bill when young even if he wished it.

What possible rationale would lead me to risk either a life of sexual incapacity or even death on an untested, possibly crackpot, medical treatment? Three hours of that I had going around my head with my feet and back hurting more and more. Being a woman is a pain!

At last by Tower Bridge on the North side of the river I found St Katherine's Dock where I sat and phoned Litara.

"You inconsiderate, self-centred bitch! Where the hell have you been and why did you turn your phone off?"

"I love you too Sis! Can we play some music together tonight?"

My hearing may take a little time to recover from the shriek Litara let loose down the phone but in our usual way having let her vent I agreed to pick up some food and meet her at the flat at 5:30pm and we'd go to the pub for their 'film-folk night' at about 8:30pm.

* * * * * *

If I were a proper considerate sister I would have made something special to say sorry but I saw some beautiful mushrooms that looked lonely for some zingy beef and cream along with a fresh baked baguette so stroganoff it was which I must say Litara didn't complain about. As I cooked and picked clothes for the evening and cleaned the kitchen, which Litara had let get into a bit of a state, the details of my day came out. Over dinner we even discussed the options which got silly when she told me look into the mirror opposite us and imagine myself as a man.

"I can't do it! I don't even have a picture in my mind of what a man is - Sylvester Stallone, Michael Jackson, William Hague… ? They aren't exactly easy to identify with."

"Try Dad… Try our father."

"OK, I can see Dad in a second but I'm nothing like Dad. He's the nicest person I know and I'm nothing like that."

"Yes he's nice and I love him but there isn't a sane man on the planet who wouldn't be afraid to make Dad angry. With him protecting you those men in the car park have got to consider themselves lucky to survive in one piece!"

"How does that help me visualise myself as a man? Comparing myself to Dad is like a gazelle comparing itself to a grizzly bear."

"Yet, my sweet little gazelle, nobody but mum and I has ever bullied you. Have you never wondered why? Nobody teased you when you swapped trousers for skirts. Do you think that is normal? Living as Dai you couldn't see who you were even though it was plain to others but now you have seen that you are Venus that part of you that you ignored is staring you in the face and you are scared shitless by who you are!"

"No. Sorry Sis but I just don't get it. Let's go party down the the pub before they call last orders!"

Once there I saw several people I recognised from my last visit but without Serena to bounce off or Jean-Luc to get angry at I probably drank a bit to much which is how Litara got me to sing to her guitar playing the song I'd wallowed in when I was about 14, Stevie Nicks' Landslide. How far did I get into it? Not far before it made me want to throw up in self-disgust so I stopped Litara playing and got the karaoke guy to put on a track and climbing first onto a chair and then a table started to clap my hands over my head to the beat. Some moments are just right and in a bar where over half the customers were men everyone was singing Sisters are doing it for themselves.

Every evening has to end but but I was still on a high when back at the flat I looked in the mirror that defeated me earlier and said "Who loves ya pussycat?"

Chapter 44

'Warning - liable to mood swings' The mock sign my big sister made for me to hang around my neck at breakfast was maybe over the top but last night was a particularly clear indication that there were big differences between Venus and the Dai that I knew.

There was no doubt that life was more interesting these days but that is the Chinese curse; 'May you live in interesting times'. My image of Dai was as one of life's 'good guys'. Helpful, considerate and 'not a mean bone in his body' but who was Venus? Me? There seems to be a large slice of attention seeking hulk in my character that I'm not at all sure I like.

"I know you love me Sis but is it me or is it Dai you love? Are you just putting up with me for his sake?"

"There is only you Sweetie. OK, I didn't realise that you were a girl until recently but that made sense once I'd seen it. Other than that you are much the same as you've always been but with a bit more self confidence and willingness to stand up for yourself and those you love."

"But Dai wouldn't have laid into not one, but two doctors on different occasions. Dai wouldn't have been on the news and got arrested for assault. Dai wouldn't have been stood on a table last night leading a sing-song! And Dai definitely wouldn't have kissed Jean-Luc!!"

"Maybe the Dai you saw or tried to create in the mirror wouldn't have done those things but that wasn't who you are or who most people saw. In my work I often deal with actors and audience members so I'm used to actors getting confused between themselves and the character they play and there are audience members too who 'fall in love' with a character on screen only to be sorely disappointed that the actor who plays the part is very different. Do not by the way ever repeat that referring to Mum and Saint David Attenborough!"

"So you're saying I've been a wet Egyptian then… Living in denial!"

"You won't always be the Venus you've glimpsed recently so enjoy it while you can. Maybe one day you'll be a little old lady but my guess is that long before that I'll have strangled you!"

There were no opportunist bag snatchers on the coach ride back to Cardiff, nor journalists trailing me although I'm sure they would have been there if any knew what the doctors were proposing. We had a week until our flight to the Canary Islands then a day later we would set off across the Atlantic and before that Charles needed his answer.

Thursday and Friday I worked in the yard, no longer considered quite such a delicate flower, then Saturday Bill and I took advantage of a clear, day to give Molly a last sail of the season before hauling her out on Bill's trailer to store in his garden. It seemed a long time since we launched her but business had kept Bill from more than half a season's sailing - being super-rich seemed to mean being always on call for an 'Yea or nay' to someone's scheme even at 77 with a wedding due.

That evening Serena, Jenny and I had a girls only expedition to see Titanic - the boys were asked but refused agreeing only to meet us afterwards. Whether Titanic is really suitable viewing for someone about to sail across the Atlantic is a moot point but I did appreciate that moment on the bows when Kate Winslett says "I'm Flying." In the pub afterwards Evan and Andy teased us about our movie taste so we competed to write a list as quickly as possible of the first 5 movies:we thought of that we'd watch again- Out of Africa, Support Your Local Sheriff, Sleepless in Seattle, When Harry Met Sally and Pretty Woman got me no prize for being to slow and not including Dirty Dancing. Andy's winning entry I didn't think fair:- Rocky I, II, III, IV and V..

Sunday finishing details were completed on my bridesmaid's dress but my promise neither to lose nor gain weight on the Atlantic crossing seemed optimistic!. Mum and Grandma Tina were having kittens at the thought of Dad and Bill being away for a month - it would be by far the longest Mum and Dad had been separated and Grandma was hyper aware that life was short - several times it looked as though the whole thing would be called off.

Mum had wanted to take Monday off work to finalise packing but Dad knew she would drive us up the wall if she 'helped' and I think the two of us did alright - we would no doubt realise what we had forgotten in mid-Atlantic. We did have a car problem when Grandma refused to be left at home while we went to the airport but Serena stepped into the gap joining us so that she could drive Bill's car back home with Grandma after we'd been waved goodbye.

I was it turns out glad to have Serena there as a diversion for me when at Bristol airport the elderly and ancient couples got all sentimental! I did have to promise her I'd keep a diary on the voyage despite my protests that all it would say would be:- …Day 12, sailing; Day 13, sailing; …

Sitting in an economy seat next to Bill on the plane I wondered both what sort of people pay to travel first class and how many people would believe me if I told them a billionaire was sitting with them? That didn't stop me enjoying our taxi from the airport to Puerto de la Luz y Las Palmas though. It is a busy commercial port and marina on the NE corner of Gran Canaria and as it's about 15 miles north of the airport, by myself I'd have waited maybe hours for a bus to save money.

As it was, at 8 am, the three of us, pulling a luggage laden trolley, enjoyed the first real warmth we'd felt since Britain went autumnal 2 months before! Maybe we weren't so crazy after all…

"Auntie Venus! Auntie Venus!" I was tackled waist high by a human cannonball known as Daisy and had to be rescued by her mother Bonny and somewhat grown baby Callum of Daydreamer times in Bilbao.

Within 15 minutes we were all in the cockpit on board 'WorthIt II' the huge catamaran we'd come to join. Somehow once again I was pinned by the baby as Daisy practiced her hairdressing skills so I pulled out my phone and dialled international…

"Charles. It's Venus. I've decided… I want a baby!"

Chapter 45

"So is Charles the new boyfriend Venus?" Bonny's ears had caught the word 'baby' and her curiosity was piqued.

"Shush." Tracy, the skipper of 'WorthIt II' had also heard my 'I want a baby.' statement and wanted to warn Bonny, "Isaac, the big guy she came with is Venus's father so it probably isn't the time to discuss her sex life!"

"No! Charles is my doctor not a boyfriend. I've got a plumbing problem and he's arranging to get it sorted for me."

There is a village that has no boundary line as the residents live on boats that travel the world. Add to that the fact that all villagers love to gossip and nothing travels faster than the speed of light except gossip.

"Does Jean-Luc know?" asked Bonny and by the laws of gossip it was inevitable that he soon would!

"I need you to winch me up the mast." Dad's request was made in the most reasonable tones considering the possibility of achieving it seemed so slim considering he weighed in at 260lb or more! We did a deal which, after waving Bonny and the children off and donning work clothes, had me 110 feet up at the masthead in a bosun's chair. Fortunately I had helped Dad replace masthead light and wind instrument units before and learnt the tricks in replacing their cables which run inside the mast. My experience though was on masts lying horizontal and after 2 hours aloft I was a mass of bruises from banging against the mast every time the mast swayed, which a tall mast does even in a marina. Coupled with that I'd mashed my sensitive bits which nobody who designed the bosun's chair had considered might lurk tucked between the sitter's legs!

That job done I only had a 15 minute tea break before Bill and I were winching my father up to replace the radar unit part way up the mast. None of us had slept much the night before; it got hot on deck in the afternoon and bits and pieces were constantly being sent between Dad and I on lengths of string. Working as fast as possible it still wasn't until 6pm in the last of the light that Dad announced 'job done' and we could head for the showers - fortunately WorthIt II being a luxury yacht had showers aplenty so at least I didn't have the problem of using the shared marina shower block.

"Party time!" Sheila the cook had done us proud with a cordon bleu chicken pasta salad which we practically inhaled having not stopped work for more than a sandwich all day and 7 pm or not I was ready to turn in for the night - Tracy and the crewman Bruce would however have none of it! "The Atlantic Rally for Cruisers (ARC)' starts from here tomorrow: it is the biggest such event in the world and it is our social obligation to go and help toast them on their way on their last night ashore."

Fortunately Litara had a wardrobe packed with things designed to survive a life constantly in travel bags and I had enough teenager in me to wake up as the sun went down and put on my glad-rags.

The ARC sailors weren't at this stage in their lives part of the cruising village being mostly either shoreside dwellers looking for a one-off adventure or cruisers-to-be making their first ocean crossing. There were however a lot of them from the 200 or more boats setting out across the Atlantic to St Lucia next day and they wanted to make the most of the evening. After my last outing with Litara I was wary about drinking but having started to dance I found it impossible to get off the floor. At least the maxi dress I was wearing forced a degree of restraint but I still found myself getting drunk-on-dancing for want of a better way of describing the feeling and the people were such a lot of fun…

I'm not quite sure how it happened but it's good to have family, friends and crew mates looking out for you and it was Sheila who spotted that I was on my last legs and Dad who was there to catch me just before I would have ended on my backside with my legs danced-out. It seems that I am not destined to be one of those dignified, stately women in this life!

Work is work and at 7:30 Tracy woke me for breakfast. I didn't merit being part of the planning team at this stage but was left in no doubt that I had to pull my weight in my appointed role of the lowest dogsbody on board. Since leaving college a lot had happened but one thing I hadn't done is work regular hours and my body didn't like their re-introduction. Dad's plan was to give the radar priority as with so many yachts crossing at the same time as us they were what we were most likely to hit. Tracy had a round of paperwork to do so disappeared with the boat papers and all our passports to visit first the harbour master then customs and immigration.

Sheila with Bruce and Bill in tow headed off to do last minute provisioning while Dad and I got stuck into fitting the new radar screen. To get the new base unit wired up and working was gratifyingly quick but it wasn't a like for like replacement as even though the old unit was only 3 years old there had been improvements and a corresponding change in the units dimensions. Luckily that was when Bonny called on the VHF radio to let me know they were all heading ashore from the anchorage in their dinghy. Dad agreed it a good time to take a break so we grabbed some cold drinks to wash down the sandwiches I had made and joined Bonny's family at the end of the jetty to wave off the ARC yachts.

Daisy thought so many boats setting off together wonderful and wanted to chase after them but Pete was being well paid the fit a new generator in a large yacht so had no immediate plans to move on. Dad also was being paid to fit a radar so I had to say a reluctant goodbye to my unexpectedly met Daydreamer friends and get back to work.

I was swiftly learning why cruising was often described as sailing your boat to paradise to work on it there. Dad's customers in Cardiff left boats with him to be fitted-out, repaired or upgraded at a place with the best of tools and supplies close by. WorthIt's new cabinet work however was cobbled together from what was 'to-hand' but if I say so myself once I'd varnished it nobody was likely to guess.

While Dad and I been finishing the radar installation the others had returned to the boat, stowed the extra provisions, taken off sail covers and generally got everything shipshape so that at 4 pm, although Dad, Bill and I had seen nothing of the Canaries other than a taxi ride and the marina, Tracy started the engines and we cast off.

My introduction to the international luxury yacht lifestyle had been nothing like I imagined but we were on our way.

Chapter 46

"The shortest distance from Las Palmas to the Caribbean would be over the nearby north coast of Gran Canaria and then west-southwest passing to the south of the other Canary islands but," Tracy explained "with the wind from the NE I'm heading down the east coast of Gran Canaria so that the island doesn't block the wind and we get south more quickly to where the trade-winds will help us on our way,"

"Those trade-winds are why you met you friend Bonny here and why if you carry on sailing you'll regularly meet old friends. We're one of the ocean's migratory species using the tropical trade winds to sail east to west around the world."

Leaving Las Palmas we were all up and about but Tracy explained there would be 3 watch leaders: Tracy, Bruce and Bill in that order, working 4 hours on and 8 hours off starting this evening at 8 pm. We 3 others: Sheila, Venus and Isaac would similarly work 4 hours on and 8 off but starting at 6 pm.

Over dinner at 5:30 pm, which Sheila cooked, Tracy further laid out her way of doing things. "There are other watch systems, and if you don't like mine sorry but tough - this boat is not a democracy! I will show you things such as how I want lines cleated and made up and that is the way you will do them while on WorthIt Even if you don't like my way; in the pitch dark you won't have to try to work out what someone else did because they will have done what everyone does. On food Sheila is in charge and we'll take turns to help her with the main meal served at 5:30 pm. Other meals it's fend for yourself from what Sheila has picked for the day.

Giving some thought to what Tracy had told us it all kind of made sense - Bill was watch leader rather than Dad because he was a lot more experienced at sea, and Tracy had chosen the watch system so that the least experienced, Sheila and I, shared Tracy's watch. It didn't seem terribly fair that Sheila had extra duties beyond the rest of us or that Bruce would always be stuck with the midnight to 4 am watch but they were paid professionals while the only cash for the rest of us was whatever Dad was charging for his electrical work.

Joining Tracy on watch at 10 pm, or 22:00 as it was called on board, I could just see the lights on the southern tip of Gran Canaria and that was the last last land we'd see for 2 or 3 weeks. The wind was from the port quarter at about 15 knots, the nearly full mainsail was out to starboard and the jib (foresail) was being held out to port by a line led to the port bow as well as the normal sheet running to the port quarter

Tracy knew that I'd never sailed a multihull before and apologised saying "You may learn some bad sailing habits on WorthIt as she is a charter boat with the simplest sails we can have on rollers and much more weight than a racing catamaran so slower. Still she is much lighter and faster than a monohull that could carry the same number of people so I hope you enjoy it." As we were doing about 10 knots I wasn't about to complain but I didn't understand why we were so fast. "It's like riding a bicycle - we make our own wind which combines with the real wind - moving forward at 10 knots with 22 knots of wind behind us we only feel 12 knots of wind on deck and it's not until you notice the white caps that you realise there is more wind than it feels."

Sharing a watch with Tracy was like a lot like working with a younger version of my mother. As we alternated steering - there was no autopilot unless Dad could fix it - conversation wandered but never became frivolous. I did wonder if I could make her laugh!

Just before midnight Bruce appeared with a cup of tea for me and a hot Ovaltine for Tracy. As he'd come out of the cabin I'd noticed that he'd been using a red light in the galley which I appreciated as it takes me ages to regain my night vision after a flash of white light. For some time the three of us kept watch as we enjoyed our hot drinks each trying to be the first to spot one of the slower ARC yachts that had set off 4 hours before us from Las Palmas. Even after going inside supposedly to fill in the log and sleep I noticed Tracy only got as far as the radar screen where she sat peering on the chance of seeing a small boat's radar reflection.

Watching for hazards ahead was one thing but glancing back at Bruce steering was an unexpected hazard in itself as by the small compass light, at 25 he looked a lot like a young Johnny Depp. Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately as Sheila had first dibs on him, he wasn't Australian like Sheila, and the name Bruce came originally from a charter guest as a tease: my watch leader was a very nice, thoughtful frightfully well-spoken boy called Rupert. A capable sailor but what is often described as ‘not the sharpest knife in the drawer.’ Clearly I'm sexist because I was dismissing Rupert for no better reason than had been given to the thousands or even millions of women described as ‘dumb blondes’

At 01:40 I woke Dad and we went through the usual change of watch ritual at 02:00 but instead of heading to bed I offered to take a spell on the radar so Tracy could get some sleep -I may have got some Brownie points for that.

Nature being what it is, only half an hour later I spotted a blip 3 miles ahead which was 20 minutes away if it was stationary, more if it was moving in the direction we were going, less if coming toward us. I passed on the news to Bruce and Dad then shuffled backward and forward until they had it's masthead light in view. Only at the last minute could we see it was a monohull yacht of about 35' and even then not see if there was anyone on deck. Maybe we should have changed course to give them more clearance, maybe gone closer to check it was ok as they didn't answer the VHF radio. There isn't a right answer other than to say without a good watch and their light we could easily have hit them as could a ship hit us!

Chapter 47

Waking at 09:00 after 5 hours sleep I watched Dad and Bill working on the autopilot as I ate a bowl of muesli. Yacht electrical systems and controlling electronics are inevitably both expensive,because of the small market, and unreliable, because of the environment. Dad was installing a complete new unit but at the same time had suggested retaining, repairing and servicing the drive unit as a spare for future use - a job for me in off watch time.

"What happens if the new carbon fibre boat gets hit my lightning?" My question was asked with all the innocence of the ignorant. "You've explained that you want the modern electronics on boats to be a lot easier to replace because they are so susceptible to damage by lightning but not what happens to the boat." Bill described the metal straps that are installed in wooden and fibreglass boats to act like the lightning rods on tall buildings but I got the feeling my question had unnerved him.

Up on deck I handed Tracy the coffee she'd asked for as I took over the wheel. The wind was a little lighter so both sails were completely unfurled, just about sustaining our speed of 10 knots measured by an ancient very low tech little spinning propellor towed behind. To our starboard about 2 miles away was another yacht and to port a ship also headed south. "I wasn't expecting rush hour traffic in the middle of the ocean!"

"I wonder if they'll find collisions becoming more frequent with GPSs and electronic chart plotters?" wondered Tracy. "As it becomes easier to stick to the 'perfect' route we might be more likely to bump into other vessels on exactly the same course."

As the watches progressed our routine settled, only challenged by an occasional squall for which we partially rolled the sails or a drop in wind when we started the engines and motored for a while to keep up our speed and charge the batteries. On the third day the autopilot rose from the dead and we changed our course to starboard from about 230° true to 265° true - the change of course involving 'jibing' the sails so the mainsail was out to port, the jib to starboard with the wind on the starboard quarter. It impressed me that Tracy's description of the boat making its own wind predicted (with the help of a to-scale sketch) how a change of course of 35° could produce a change in apparent wind direction of 60° but on the frightening side it similarly showed that quite a small accidental change of course could jib the boat again but in an uncontrolled way so that the huge mainsail on its boom could crash across the boat at speed.

With an autopilot working there wasn't a need for hand-steering and with Tracy's encouragement Dad and I pushed on apace with electrical work. The 'all-band' radio transceiver replacement was at first a disappointment and even I thought Dad might have 'lost it' when he had me trailing behind the boat a roll of kitchen foil borrowed from Sheila. That was followed by hours of running a 3" wide roll of copper sheet through the boat until at last a repeat of Dad's tests produced a thumbs up from him that the radio was ready for use.

The restoration of a functioning radio brought a flurry of activity. While Dad enjoyed a tea-break and I was preparing vegetables; first Tracy called an office phone in the USA and then Bill called first the boatyard in the UK which was building the new boat and then Grandma Tina.

I did naturally ask if that meant I could call my friends and was given the go-ahead if I was ready to pay what I could earn in a week for a few minutes chat!

That only left the instrument setup and chart-plotter and Dad's work would be completed since straight after the lightning strike the TV, microwave and DC to AC inverters had been replaced to allow chartering to continue.

Bruce made himself very popular a week out when with a trailing lure he caught a dorado. Sometimes it's called dolphin because of the head bulge but it's not 'Flipper' and makes very, very tasty sushi in the hands of an expert like Sheila. Thinking of future opportunities I asked her advice and she had me make poisson cru which works with any fresh fish but particularly well with dorado.

As we shared our evening meal with a glass of muscadet, which I found goes very well with the fish, we agreed that this was as good as life got and we could only feel sorry for the folks back home who would be worrying about what a tough time we must be having.

So the days passed, the final repairs were completed and although our progress slowed as the winds became lighter, on the morning of the 13th day English Harbour in Antigua, which was to be our first Caribbean port of call, was less than 200 miles ahead…

Mayday! Mayday! Mayday! It was the short range VHF radio and Tracy was on it in a flash. The voice was almost sobbing with relief to hear Tracy's voice but was speaking French so the microphone was passed to Bruce who was fluent…

The vessel in distress was a yacht of about 35' with a man, a woman and a 6 month old baby aboard. With the accuracy of GPS we could see it was only 6 miles ahead of us but the yacht was sinking having hit a ships' container drifting semi-submerged. They were still aboard but had a life-raft ready to deploy.

"Lifejackets on everybody. Bill, start the engines and head straight for them, heading 272° magnetic. Bruce, tell them to stay on the yacht as long as possible as we can be there in 40 minutes. Sheila, take Isaac and Venus and prepare the inflatable for launching." Having got us all moving Tracy joined us on deck, after getting more information through Bruce, at just about the moment we first spotted a yacht. Soon Tracy and Bill had the sails furled and helped us launch the 12' inflatable dinghy and secure it fore-and-aft alongside WorthIt's port side.

"Bill. you're in charge here, I'm taking the wheel. Get Venus and Isaac in the dinghy ready to get the mother and baby off as I come to their leeward side. Only once they are safe on WorthIt are you to consider seeing what can be salvaged.

Tracy steered WorthIt alongside as sweetly as could be with the tender both acting as a fender and a secure platform between the two yachts. The woman climbed into the dinghy and readied herself to receive her baby, the stricken yacht however was by this time down at the stern and when a larger than normal wave passed under her the liferaft on the coachroof freed ready for deployment slid rapidly to the stern knocking the man holding his baby overboard. He hadn't even properly hit the water before Dad caught him by the harness to haul him in the dinghy but the jerk was too much for the man and the baby slipped out of his grasp into the water followed a second later by me…

Chapter 48

Being between two yachts moving up and down; apart and together, with the ocean's swell was scary as hell but holding the baby with one hand I floundered back to grasp the stern of the dinghy which allowed me to swing the child up and into the frantic mother's hands. Seconds later my father's strong arm did the same for me…

As though it had never happened we continued as planned and once mother and baby were safe on WorthIt the Frenchman re-boarded his yacht to begin the process of transferring as much as possible to the safety of WorthIt, even at the last moment the unused life-raft

From first radio contact to the yacht disappearing beneath the surface was less than 2 hours and maybe ridiculously I felt like turning to imagined judges as in a gymnastics competition where they hold up cards with points - 'Efficiency' 9; 'Elegance' 4…

I was given special dispensation to have a shower - it still being only noon and my watch. The prospect of a shower was so welcoming that I neglected to lock both doors to the shower that was shared between my cabin and the Frenchwoman's, Claire. She just stood there dumbstruck staring at my breasts and 'dangly bits' until I gently pushed her out and re-closed the door!

There is no etiquette for dealing with that situation so once I was dressed and back on watch we did what civilised people do and ignored it. Tracy couldn't however ignore that she had a big decision to make and changed course to Port-Louis, Guadeloupe where Claude, Claire and baby Emily had been heading to meet family members. Although the Caribbean islands are somewhat vague in my mind I learnt that Guadeloupe, Martinique and some smaller islands are as much part of France as The Channel Islands are to Britain but not quite as much as Hawaii is to the Americans.

Tracy's plan was to try to get to Port-Louis early next morning, drop off the French and continue immediately to Antigua which was less than 40 nm miles to the NW. With cooperation from French officials we might yet lose only a few hours to the diversion.

Emily was a big hit with everyone on board; even to my surprise Tracy who despite being Iron Woman when sailing was soon a mushy puddle of hormones under Emily's gaze. With my full-frontal exposure to Claire in mind, although tempted I avoided the baby show going back on deck to finish my watch. There was nothing in sight but then there hadn't been for several days which highlighted how lucky our new passengers had been to get picked up.

At 14:00 on the radio Tracy called the Guadeloupe Maritime Control on 2182 kHz getting through despite being at maximum range and explained the situation and our plan. They were more than happy to help as she gave details of our passengers' names, passport numbers, possessions, details of their yacht, position it sank, position of the container they hit. Having agreed we would monitor 2182 kHz on SSB and Channel 16 on the VHF radios it was planned that we would anchor off Port-Louis and expect to be joined by a local vessel at 08:00.

That afternoon I only napped for an hour or so before joining Sheila to help prepare a casserole of egg noodles with chicken, ham and Swiss cheese for dinner. That was soon in the oven so I couldn't avoid Claire and Emily who had also napped before joining us to chat.

Fortunately in better English than Claude's, she described meeting Claude in Bordeaux only18 months before - she paused for a moment to drop Emily into my arms - Claude was so romantic having sailed single-handed from Guadeloupe to France but he had to return to Guadeloupe soon after finding out that Claire was pregnant. Naturally she thought she was being abandoned but true to his word the next June he sailed back into Bordeaux and they married on the eve of Emily's birth. When the yacht sank they had been on their way to the new home Claude had waiting for them in Guadeloupe…

By the time the story was finished Emily was back asleep with her head and hand on her new favourite cushion of my left breast; Sheila was blowing her nose into a fistful of tissues from the sheer romance of it all and the rest of the crew were demanding their dinner.

It was the perfect end to a wonderful voyage as we sailed under tropical skies through the night rounding the northern tip of Guadeloupe to anchor just off Port-Louis at 08:00 as two motor launches came out to meet us, one going to each side of WorthIt. We had put out fenders and just finished helping them to secure their lines when 8 arms went down, 4 on each boat, to rise again each with an automatic rifle pointed straight at us!

"Raise your hands and don't argue!" bellowed Tracy.

The officer who seemed to be in charge boarded WorthIt with 2 more men wearing holstered pistols. "Which of these men is Claude Durand?" he demanded of Tracy. Claude's hands were promptly cuffed behind his back once Tracy identified him.

"You mentioned a life-raft among his possessions - where is it?"

Again Tracy made the identification and this time a knife was unpocketed and used to cut through the tape sealing the two halves of the life-raft case together. I quite expected the halves to explode apart as the raft inside inflated but instead the official prised them apart to expose clear sealed plastic bags… Sheila gasped…

"Truffles!"

Chapter 49

"Who have I married?" Claire is sobbing. Claude has been uncuffed and the men with automatic rifles taken ashore in one of the launches. Sheila has explained that the truffles in the case could be easily sold in the Americas for enough to buy a pleasant family home however the officer in charge is not a happy man as he makes it clear that he believes Claude smuggled cocaine into Europe for which he was paid in stolen truffles.

Working overnight through the internet on information obtained about Claude Durand from police files, the officials had arrived expecting to find either cocaine or something illegal and identifiable such as stolen art. Truffles however could not be traced and Claude did not give and couldn't be made to give an explanation of how they came into his possession. As Claude and Claire were taken aboard the launch the officer made it clear that it was time for Claude to leave Guadeloupe the alternative being a life that would be made miserable beyond belief.

"Captain," he said to Tracy, "It is time I think for you to be on your way. You have done very well in saving the lives of this woman and child but it is a shame that the putrid scum with them did not sink with his boat."

As I handed Emily across to Claire on the launch it was so hard to let her go. She had only been with us for a day. She had no idea of what was going on and there were many children whose circumstances were far, far worse but for that one day she had been our Emily and I felt we were letting her down.

It was only another 37 nm to Antigua and that evening we were moored stern-to in English Harbour, but the mood was glum when by rights we should have been been enjoying being spoilt by Sheila and Bruce with a barbecue of Antiguan shellfish - barbecued because it is a small local fish whose shell-like scales come off on the BBQ. Another reason for celebration was because both Dad and I had completed our very first ocean crossing for, although it was difficult for me to remember, despite his Samoan mother Dad was a Welsh lad whose sailing experience had until now been limited to coastal voyages. Bill raised his glass to offer a toast…

"To Emily." and my floodgates opened. It does help to cry, at least for me and Bill's toast shifted the mood enough for us to move on to plans for the future. The owner of WorthIt II was due to arrive in 2 days but to my surprise Dad and Bill announced that they were going to try to get an early flight back to Britain. From her reaction I guessed this wasn't news to Tracy and she said it wouldn't be a problem for the passages but I might have to work a bit harder.

Next morning I found what 'work a little harder' meant when I was given the job of making the exterior of WorthIt II gleam ready for the arrival of the owner. As I worked I calculated that the boat's surface area was equivalent to 10 large vans without the benefit of a drive through washer. I also remembered the brochure photos of a tropical paradise always showed it as sun-drenched which meant to someone doing manual work without shade ' hot and sweaty'. In fact the whole Paradise picture was getting a reappraisal when I remembered Grandma Tina and Grandpa Joe had both emigrated from their original paradise homes; Claude had risked everything for money despite living in paradise and even Dad and Bill were skipping out although that hadn't stopped them going on a snorkelling tour earlier once their air tickets were arranged for the following day.

My whole doubt about what I was doing was certainly not helped as when toward the end of the afternoon utterly exhausted I heard the call from the dock of "Smile for the camera!" Dad, smiling himself fit to split his face in two, was returning with Bill and wanting to film a little local colour in the shape of me while I was looking as though I'd been dragged through a hedge sideways (which is even worse than backwards). The video camera that he had borrowed from Litara to film our holiday was out pointing at me and it took an offer from Bill to take us all out for dinner to save Dad from assassination - Bill denied of course that there was any connection between that offer and the fact it would otherwise be his turn to help Sheila with dinner.

The dinner did as it happen work very well as a final celebration of our voyage so when, mellowed by several drinks, we wended our way back to the boat we played Dad's raw holiday video footage on the boat's TV as a last look at our antics. So much better to do that than get a packet of paper prints weeks after the holiday which are never looked at again. There was a lot of me when Dad had the camera but others had a go including we found Tracy, who while on the wheel took footage of Dad and I in the dinghy during the rescue. "Don't ever let Mum see that Da," I laughed "or she'll never let us go sailing again!"

Next morning, rather than Tracy meeting the owner at 11 am at the airport there was a hail from the dock at 10 am; Mr and Mrs Worth and their twin 19 year old sons Daniel and Jacob had arrived. Chaos reigned for a while among those of us who don't expect flights to arrive early with 4 people rather than the one we were prepared for but the Worths had every confidence we would sort things out.

Both Dad and Bill did seem a bit stunned by this example of a Texan family and to me also at first they seemed to be like nobody I had met before. Slowly they came into focus though until I had their characters clear in my mind as being like great dane puppies. A puppy is still a puppy no matter the size but if it is a great dane it doesn't know that to the rest of us it is larger than life.

It might have been fun to see how they got on with Bill who really was larger than life financially but seemed normal and Dad whose speed and massive physical strength was mostly hidden but they had a plane to catch leaving me alone to learn how to to live in this new Texan world.

Chapter 50

What a mess I've got myself into! Waving goodbye to Dad and Bill it hadn't registered with me and certainly not with Dad that I was now alone in a foreign part of the world with two genderless passports but male bits between my legs while otherwise female in appearance… My home and means of transport, until I got to the Dominican Republic, was being supplied, for only as long as they wanted, by a family of American who so far knew nothing about me but in the narrow confines of a boat might soon know far too much for comfort.

'Slowly.' I thought to myself? 'What has changed since yesterday or any of the other days since I joined WorthIt? Dad and Bill aren't here to protect me but then I never really looked to them for protection before. Mr and Mrs Worth were Rich Texans which might mean religious fundamentalist homophobic mid-westerners or religious racist southerners who being Texans would solve their problems with a gun?' That didn't feel right either but then it hit me what I had to do.

Before even lunch I asked everyone to gather in the yacht's saloon then tidying my appearance and picking up my passports I went in to make my pitch…

"Mr Worth, Mrs Worth, I'd like thank you for the opportunity to sail from Las Palmas - it has been a wonderful experience. I hadn't expected to mention this this but when you arrived with your boys I decided it best to avoid future embarrassment. As you can see by my passports I have due to genetic reasons no recognised gender. With adults this hardly matters but I was concerned that you might think your boys not mature enough to cope with the situation if they noticed any difference from the usual. If it is a problem I will of course leave but first I would like to give you time to talk this through among yourselves."

"We wouldn't dream of making you leave Miss Williams; please let me introduce my family properly. Michael my husband you were of course expecting but my sons, Daniel in red and Jacob in white are very mature for their 19 years. My name is Samantha but please do call me Sam."

"Thank you so much for that Sam and please call me Venus. My family we just waved goodbye to but I'm sure my father Isaac and grandfather William would have appreciated your kindness to me."

Did my approach make the difference between a comfortable accommodation between us and acute embarrassment? Maybe, maybe not but I did know that my technique was pure big sister Litara! The ice broken lunch was a boisterous affair and afterward Michael suggested a walk to the top of nearby Shirley Heights. The view would be I'm sure spectacular but at 490 feet on a hot tropical afternoon the expedition turned into an all male affair while Sam, Tracy, Sheila and I got to know each other.

"The look on Bruce's face," laughed Sam, "and he almost dropped the salad bowl. Is there anything else we should know Venus?"

"The only difference it makes is that you won't see me in a bathing costume."

"When I saw Daniel and Jacob on the quay one of my first thoughts was that we might have a whole trip of watching the two of them competing for Venus all around the boat," said Tracy.

"We still might knowing my boys so I'd like to plan a trip that keeps them well occupied or preferably exhausted. They thought their Christmas was going to be spent skiing with their cousins in Colorado but with that side of the family ill, joining Michael and I on the boat seemed the best bet. Christmas Day in St Thomas is still set but other than that I'm open to suggestions Tracy."

With that Sheila and I made our excuses to go shopping for extra provisions to cope with our new expanded hungry horde leaving Tracy and Sam to plan the trip through to the Bahamas.

Sheila's shopping was no joke with a change from 6 crew and 1 guest (Michael) changing to 4 crew and 1 guest then to 4 crew and 4 guests within a couple of days. "The rich really are different," she sighed. "As crew you may come to think of Mrs Worth as a friend on this trip but what happens on a day when she is with a rich friend who doesn't get on with you? As chef if I cook a poor meal for the crew you have to put up with it but I'd soon lose my job if the Worths thought my cooking was below their standards."

Once back at WorthIt with a taxi full of supplies unloaded I began to see what my life would be for the next fortnight when compared to the Worth's. Today was Saturday so we would remain for the evening so that the boys could go clubbing. At dawn we would cast off motoring in what Tracy hoped would be calm air round the east side of Antigua to give us a good sail up to Barbuda 32nm north where there was good snorkelling and beach combing for the rest of Sunday then early Monday sail back to the west side of Antigua for a tour ashore while Tracy cleared customs and immigration so once dinner was complete we could sail overnight to St Barts which was 72 nm northwest where there was great shopping for Sam and Michael before we continued to St Maarten and…… By the time I followed the plan that far I pretty much understood that this was a cruise for the Worth's and expedition for the crew who would grab what sleep we could as the opportunity arose.

Chapter 51

The sail to Barbuda had gone just as planned and in the afternoon Michael and the boys were drift diving over the coral while I remained in the dinghy keeping it above them as the current swept us along.

"Bom dia moça bonita." That didn't sound like a parrot…?

"Be still, my beating heart."
OMG did I just say that aloud?

There was another large yacht in the bay doing the same as us and while I relaxed under an umbrella the second yacht's dinghy had quietly drifted right up to mine so the first I was aware of Armando was his stunningly handsome face leaning under my shade. Armando was Brazillian and didn't speak English while I was Welsh and didn't feel able to speak in any language while looking at him. That didn't seem to be a problem for Armando so maybe it is true that men don't listen to women, or maybe he wanted me for just one thing… My umbella!

With the dinghies together it was natural that the divers started chatting as they surfaced with one thing leading to another and the inevitable 'Your place or mine?' for sundowners. WorthIt II was chosen on the basis that while Armando's was longer ours had greater width giving us 'deck appeal'.

"WorthIt. WorthIt. WorthIt, this is WorthIt tender." I called with the handheld VHF radio to Tracy back aboard. "Just a warning for Sheila that there will be an additional 8 guests for sundowners so she might need a second packet of potato chips."

We had an hour once back on WorthIt to prepare for guests, most of which time in my case was spent in fresh water washing the scuba equipment once Bruce had shown me how to do the regulators. Scuba diving seemed a lot of fuss when it came to equipment but the divers were so excited afterwards about what they had seen I later put down in my notebook ⑤ learn to scuba dive.

Sheila with no real notice had whipped together magnificent nibbles to have with the drinks and I began to suspect that she lived in a constant state of readiness in case the queen dropped by. They were needed as the drinks flowed very freely and I found myself getting giggly on wine which I rarely drank back home. The boys, Daniel and Jacob made themselves the centre of attention as they tried to appeal to a girl of about 22 - I could have told them they had no chance but thought it better that they do that than notice the 15 year old younger girl who was all too dangerously taken with them.

It was seeing the 15 year old that made me rein-in my own behaviour by acting as an embarrassing mirror to my reaction in Armando's presence. Looking at Tracy and Bruce they were only taking the smallest of sips from their wine despite the reputation of drunken sailors. The good fairy on my right shoulder told me to pull myself together and shape up but her left shoulder sister was all for making a party of it and to spend time with Armando… - it was the last thought that gave the good fairy the upper hand this time as she pointed out I wasn't yet equipped physically or emotionally to deal with the Armandos of this world!

An hour after the guests arrived they were on their way back to their own vessel for dinner and I was washing up. Unlike our group none of the visitors were paid crew but guests of a film producer who owned the yacht - as an introduction to the lifestyles of the rich and famous this wasn't too hard to bear but it did seem full of contradictions and a cruel part of me had wanted to shout out 'Do you realise I could buy all of you combined several times over!'

After all those nibbles I didn't make much in the way of inroads into the Texas chili Sheila served for dinner and was in my bunk by 21:00 wondering how I'd cope, living with wonderful food cooked by others constantly within arms reach. It might be ok for those that grow up that way but I could see myself swinging between obesity and anorexia.

06:00 and I'm securing the anchor for the sail back to Antigua which is a lot bouncier than the outward bound leg the day before. I say sail but Tracy kept the engines going the whole 4 hours it took for the 25nm trip, explaining that the Swan, Blue Horizon, I'd sailed to Bilbao would have made the this little upwind leg faster and more comfortably than this much bigger catamaran but what was more important than sailing aesthetics for this leg was having enough time in Antigua for Tracy to clear customs and immigration, for me to get scuba dive-bottles refilled and for the Worths to have their tour of the island all before we set sail once more for St Barts at 18:00.

That night as I filled in the log to mark the start of 19th December it struck me that the log and schedule was now the centre of our lives as much as any factory worker clocking on and off but now I was the 'shift foreman', or more appropriately 'watch leader' from 22:00 to 02:00 on Tuesday 19th and my number two was Michael Worth!

It was my first chance to really talk with the owner and an eye opener. Rather than the oil wells in the back yard or hundreds of square miles of cattle ranch that I'd imagined, he had a trucking company and wasn't even that rich with the banks owning the trucks and WorthIt II. He planned to arrange two holidays a year aboard WorthIt at the beginning and end of charter seasons that he hoped would enable her to pay her own way.

"Business is fickle. We try to enjoy what we can while we can but really Sam and I believe the business will have succeeded if our children get can go out into the world healthy and well educated."

Michael then went and made us hot drinks being careful to only use the red light before rejoining me on deck to combine watch-keeping with star gazing.

"Wow!" he said looking up to take in the full sweep of the milky way above. "30 years ago I started at the boys' age as a truck driver in Benbrook, Texas, sometimes stopping at night to see the stars when out in the desert. That was never this clear though. Who'd've believed I'd get to be this lucky?"

Chapter 52

In complete contrast to the previous leg Tracy turned off the engines as soon as we left Antigua and although like the previous leg we reduced sail, this time it was to slow us down so we would arrive after dawn. Sailing has its distinctive sounds and just occasionally a yacht manages to hiss as it cleanly cuts through the water - that was the sound of this leg until at the last moment we restarted the engines to enter Gustavia, St Barthélemy (St Barts). It was packed with boats as we picked up a buoy at the bows and used the dinghy to take a line from the stern of WorthIt II to the shore - we had to do this as there wasn't room enough for yachts to swing with the breeze around a mooring or anchor. "The first time I sailed to St Barts we had room to anchor in the middle of the harbour," bemoaned Tracy and it was odd for me to hear someone under 40 harking back to 'the good old days'. I have a view of a stable world with me changing but I guess that one day will seem the other way round.

The idea was to have a full day here, mainly for the duty free shopping. That I imagine appealed to Daniel and Jacob about as much as a hole in the head, but St Barts is French and French women are renowned for their sexiness so the boys were determined to examine the evidence during the day in the hope of a good night ahead.

Despite all the tourists like us the streets of Gustavia made a pleasant change to shopping malls which is how I came to buy my 'little white dress'. I knew white wasn't practical, especially on a boat but when you have dark skin it does look good… I probably would have resisted better if Sam hadn't been egging me on to buy it!

My dress purchase complete I realised the dark skin thing had been bothering me over the last few days in the Caribbean. Living in Wales I was used to being 'unusual' but racism hadn't been the problem for me that it had been for my grandfather from the Dominican Republic or even for my parents. I'd been more concerned by my lack of direction than by any thought that my skin colour might be a handicap It was when I reached Antigua that I found for the first time I was no longer part of a minority by skin colour, instead fitting in reasonably well with the local population. I wasn't a local though and I identified with the other people on yachts who were almost entirely white. I was also concerned that the locals might resent me as a a person who was either much richer than them or at least wasn't limited in my prospects of becoming much richer.

Any day now the Bilbao television programme would be aired in the UK and my family and I have been expecting and fearing attacks prompted by my not fitting the gender stereotypes but I'm beginning to suspect I've misunderstood the problem. Attacks are made all the time on the basis of race, religion, sex, sexuality, gender, class, height, money, beauty even recently, in a concocted new development, ginger hair. Every kid at school, myself included, was called names but usually it was water off a duck's back… except for those few individuals with a particular vulnerability when it could escalate to the point were they might be killed or even driven to suicide!

It seems that racist comments don't bother me but the idea of being super rich by way of Bill's legacy does. Being seen as a floating gypsy sailing from place to place doesn't bother me but being seen as a multi-gendered chimera moving from male to female roles does. Just what is it that makes me feel personally vulnerable to the masses in some areas but not in others?

I left Sam and Michael to their shopping after a couple of hours to put in both some cleaning and some relaxation time noticing that Tracy had the same idea - "Eat, sleep and pee whenever you get the chance in this life as it might be a long time until the next opportunity."

There was a brief flurry of activity when the boys turned up to pick up their scuba gear in another yacht's tender - apparently the theoretical desirability of French girls had taken second place to real American girls ready for companiable diving just off the harbour entrance around Le Pain de Sucre - but mostly we had WorthIt to ourselves and Bruce's choice of music. The afternoon was hot, I was tired and Gregorian chants I found were just perfect for laying back and chilling out.

By 5:30 the music had been returned to a more mainstream choice as the wanderers returned but I was ready for what life would throw at me even if that was dinner and dancing at Michael's expense! It's a tough life…

Dance has many facets and I assumed that I would join the boys and their friends while Michael and Samantha went off to foxtrot or whatever it was their age group did. The boys had other ideas as they planned on 1 hour dancing followed by 3 hours back on the American girls' boat. Sam too had other plans which involved my presence as she considered it her duty to introduce me into the adult world of dance. They had found a club that catered to those who wanted to dance and provided teachers for those who wanted to learn how to dance, just so long as the dance you wanted to do was salsa.

Next morning on the short sail to Philipsburg, Sint Maarten (St Martin) I had the wheel to myself for an hour and pondered what I'd learnt from my dance teacher. While learning how to salsa, for which I will be eternally grateful, I had learnt about vulnerability. My teacher was openly gay and a consummate actor. As mood and need took him he could 'do' both camp and butch. He could take the female role and 'do' both demure and sultry. In comparison I thought myself either a masculine male or feminine female. To extend my range he told me that he was the best dance instructor on the island and had successfully taught hundreds.

"I give you permission to do this. I have done this before you and you can see that it has worked. I give you permission not simply to be, but to act!"

That word permission was the key to understanding my vulnerability.

Racist comments against me in Wales were no problem because by example my parents and grandparents before me had stood up to racism and flourished even before there was legal protection. Extreme wealth had however a stigma to it left over from generations of miners dying while the mine owners lined their pockets - if I were to accept the power and responsibility of extreme wealth I had to give myself permission to do it. Nobody else would!

The same word permission applied to travel in pursuit of a living or occasionally pleasure which was ok because generations of the family had done it before and flourished. Finally there was my status as a chimera…… The media threat was a mirage for my family; only a problem when they didn't believe I could cope with it. My family hadn't run to hide at Bill's place because they were afraid of the media but to protect me! If I wanted my family and friends to have lives free from being constantly worried for me I would have to show them I could cope by facing the media rather than running. The real question was whether I could both face the media and earn a living because I didn't want my life dictated to me by Bill's money even if it became mine. So far I had survived by 'people pleasing' but every time I behaved more aggressively or manipulatively I denied it was the real me, usually crediting Latira. Maybe it wasn't the real me but my dance teacher had given me permission and showed me I could play the camp male pretending a vulnerability that wasn't real or the sultry predatory female pretending a strength that wasn't real.

"Venus," I said to myself. "Welcome to the dark side!"

Chapter 53

"Good morning," I called with a friendly wave as I passed an anchored yacht on entering the harbour at Philipsburg under sail. Once clear of its bows I turned WorthIt II directly into the wind using the autopliot and furled the last bit of the roller main as the slowing boat moved on under its own inertia to a clear spot where I walked forward to the winch and let the anchor chain run out as the gentle breeze pushed WorthIt back down wind until with about 120' of chain was out and I put the brake on and we stopped. All secure I stepped up onto the cabin top and bobbed a curtsey to the other anchored yachts

That was the moment when in my mind there would be a thunderous round of applause but in reality the boys came whooping out of the cabin, Michael threw back the hatch behind which he'd been surreptitiously filming and Tracy started the engines to securely set the anchor upon rising from her position hidden on the cockpit sole!

It was Daniel's idea originally but Jacob, as an equally entitled twin put the kibosh on Daniel getting the limelight. I was chosen for my sailing ability? No, I was chosen to get maximum reaction from onlookers as the least likely looking to be single-handing an 82 foot yacht! Still whether it was a put-up job or not I had done it without help which left me with an ear-to-ear grin for ages.

Our only reason for leaving St Barts early for the 14 nm hop to St Maarten was that Daniel and Jacob wanted to go plane spotting so they came into town with all of us but Michael and Sam, then grabbed a taxi as soon as Tracy had cleared customs and immigration. Quite why anyone would be excited by watching planes eluded me! Boys gone we got on with helping Sheila shop for fresh produce and which we dinghied back to WorthIt in huge quantities because Christmas was only 5 days away.

Sam and Michael were ready to go for a tour when we got back and, unlike the others, when it was offered I wanted to join them. Having a day out with your boss is probably odd but this might be my only chance to see this island and in a couple of weeks I would be back in cold wet Britain while the rest of the crew were in the Bahamas - QED! It turned out that the high point of the trip was the Butterfly Farm, so definitely a low adrenalin day although they did have the butterfly I'd chosen to show the colour scheme of the new boat being built back home.

To get to the butterflies we crossed, without problem, from the Dutch to the French halves of the island just like in any other part of the EU and I realised that as an EU passport holder I could have moved here to work - an idea which, looking at at the skin colours around me, had occurred to a lot of others.

Once back on the boat plans were made to push on west but I didn't understand the rush until Tracy said that as Samantha wanted to be in St Thomas on Christmas day next Monday, we had to clear US customs into the US Virgin Islands by Friday or risk having to wait at anchor 3 days until the officials finished their holiday! That wasn't going to stop us hitting the casino this evening though, and with the boys back aboard with their video camera we even had time beforehand to see what was so exciting about watching planes landing then taking off again. For some reason it had never occurred to me that someone would stand directly under the aircraft at the end of a very short runway!

I'd never been to a casino before so was warned to take only as much money as I was prepared to lose. In my mind it was going to be like the old James Bond movies and donning my new white dress I felt both glamorous enough to play the part yet, maybe for the first time, impatient for the surgery to be over on what was held tightly back between my legs so that I could get on with my life.

"All ashore who's going ashore," called Tracy and leaving my cabin to join the others in the saloon I realised I hated Sheila, Tracy and most of all Samantha for looking that good. Still, I told myself I'd have my revenge in 10 years when they were all ancient and wrinkly!

They gave us money when we entered the casino, or rather vouchers that we could use for gambling or buying drinks. Maybe it was because we looked so good compared to most of the customers or maybe it was because casinos are run by kind generous people? More likely it was to get us into the habit of spending rather than just watching. The process of having your money extracted is quite painless and the only one who wasn't quickly cleaned out was Bruce who mostly watched the blackjack table where I played using my limited experience of playing pontoon back in the UK. Although on a winning streak at the time Bruce was happy to leave with the rest of us when we agreed to a drink and dance before setting sail.

"Were you card counting?" Michael asked Bruce when we'd arranged a table at a nearby club. "Because I was impressed that you could leave the table so easily when you were winning."

"Nothing that sophisticated." Bruce laughed. "Watching Venus lose I saw it was because lots of low cards had come out of the shoe which meant that I would have an advantage from then until they reshuffled the cards. It's like boom and bust in economics - to come out on top you join in early on an upturn then watch for changes that precede the bust. Back in England I got a mortgage to buy a house relatively cheaply in 1995 which I've rented out but I hope to sell the house in 5 years and then buy my own boat the next time after that when boat prices drop."

"Too serious!" said Sheila jumping up. "We came to dance so on your feet everyone." That meant Tracy and I got the boys and we didn't let them off the dance floor until they were ready to drop. Walking back to the dinghy Tracy complained "That's the trouble with men. No stamina!"

Chapter 54

As unlikely as it seemed the best time to move on was as soon as we got back to the boat from the casino and changed clothes, even though it was nerve-wracking inching our way past the other yachts on a dark night. The radar was a help thanks to Dad's work but mainly we relied on sharp eyes. Tracy was on the wheel and each of us scattered around the deck had a flashlight to point out what we spotted in an emergency but the sense of smell of a bloodhound would have been useful.

Once sail was set we stilled the engines and set our course toward the Virgin Islands. Michael and I shared the first watch after a warning from Tracy that there were likely to be a lot of other vessels including fishing boats and even huge cruise ships steaming in circles at sea to save overnight dock or anchorage fees. The breeze was moderate and with the speed through the water at about 6 knots I wasn't sure where next evening would find us but Tracy was happy enough as motor-sailing in these conditions we could easily cruise at 10 knots if we needed to reach an anchorage.

Michael's attention on this watch was diverted from the stars above down into the water as it was one of those night when the phosphorescence was spectacular. He had seen it before in waves breaking on the beach but never realised that the wake of WorthIt could be like a rocket trail with occasional added explosions of light as larger jellyfish were disturbed.

I left him to his revelry while I made us hot drinks about an hour into our shared watch so was sipping my tea and looking back toward St Maarten when I spotted that we had company. Not a threatening ship but phosphorescent dolphins! A whole pod, plaiting luminous trails as they homed in on our bows. God they're wonderful… !

Michael went to wake Jacob for the 02:00 to 06:00 watch but by then the dolphins were long gone and I kept Jacob busy taking bearings of the lights we could see although he found it difficult to visualise why if a ship remained on the same bearing it would be on a collision course with us - it would be interesting to see if his identical twin brother Daniel had the same problem. Everyone must wonder what it is like to have an identical twin but what would have happened if at 14 my original doctor had prescribed testosterone or recommended a hysterectomy? Too weird! I just flashed on the idea of a male me making a baby with a female me and had an instant incest revulsion reaction!

There are two questions that the thought of twins prompted: how similar could twins be and still be two individuals; and how different could two individuals be and still think of each other as essentially the same. Soon I would have to answer that question to the media because once I became a public figure there would be some trying to dehumanise me as not only less than human but not even deserving the respect due to any living creature. Night sailing makes me feel both minuscule and as though I'm under a microscroscope!

At 04:00 Bruce took over the watch and I didn't need any warm milky drink to send me to sleep - I crashed not to be awakened until 13:00 for lunch and the sight of Ram Head, the southernmost point of St John in the US Virgin Islands. I felt guilty as I'd been due on watch at noon but Tracy said I'd done my share and in any case we'd soon be anchoring in Cruz Bay.

Only an hour later we dropped the hook, waving as we did to the passengers on the deck of the car ferry. The town was small but had the necessary US customs and immigration and was the first time my I'd needed a visa to enter a country (Michael had stood guarantor for Dad and I to get our visas before we left the UK). Bruce and I had joked about needing passports to travel between England,Wales and Scotland but as British and EU citizens we could travel much of the world with only a passport but I wondered whether that would continue to be true since I'd been watching countries fragment ever since I was old enough to occasionally watch the news. I was a citizen of Britain, the EU and Samoa but what happened to the people when countries like Yugoslavia disintegrated?

My nervousness over paperwork was probably silly but my relief was palpable that I wasn't carted off to some gaol with accusations of being a man travelling on false documents. Sometimes it feels as though I live in a fantasy world, the creation of some storyteller, until the some threat makes life all too real.

"St John isn't an island with nightclubs and the like as most of it is a National Park but it is great for hiking and snorkelling. St Thomas is the other way round so I suggest moving to Charlotte Amelie, St Thomas's main town, on Saturday afternoon. Any objections?" Listening to Michael can be a lot like listening to Litara and in this case it was clear he'd done enough shopping with Sam and seen enough night life with the boys and wanted to kick back on St John - which is what he got!

On the Thursday evening we all had a drink and wandered around town before on Friday morning moving WorthIt a couple of miles up the northwest coast to Trunk Bay where there was good snorkelling and easy access for hiking ashore. Everybody joined in this time which made me more comfortable doing the same. In a world of ‘Upstairs Downstairs’ I find myself at times perched uncomfortably on the stair…

Chapter 55

"Time to be moving," encouraged Tracy. "We need to fill up with diesel in St Thomas before they close the pumps for Christmas." And so on Saturday afternoon we sailed the last 8 miles into St Thomas's main port of Charlotte Amelie going straight to the fuel dock. I was learning by watching Tracy about keep our floating circus on the move and the precautions she took - this for instance was her last chance for clean fuel for many miles and dirty fuel was by far the biggest cause of diesel engine failures. Into my notebook went ⑥ Find out how to get clean fuel.

We were right beside 4 huge cruise ships, here to give their passengers a day's duty free shopping I guess because the number of passengers had to be in the thousands for each one so they can hardly have planned for them all to drop into a café! From being the biggest boat around we were dwarfed into insignificance!

Tracy had a pre-arranged a marina berth for us nearby so once secured there Tracy, Bruce and I had a tidy up in preparation for visitors while Sheila and the Worths made some last minute buys ashore. By the time everyone was back on board munching on pizza as we looked out over the harbour, people were turning on the Christmas lights they had strung in their rigging.

This was going to be my first Christmas away from home and I felt disorientated. There were so many things about Christmas I took for granted that weren't happening, like Christmas songs from speakers in public place - Noddy Holder where are you? Christmas is supposed to be cold, bleak, wet and windy not warm with blue skies and palm trees! The voices from the other boats are almost exclusively from American 'snowbirds'who migrate south from the USA following the sun.

It seems that WorthIt II was to be the hub for Michael and Sam's snowbird friends who were holidaying in nearby villas. It started fairly gently on the Saturday evening with two couples joining us for drinks nibbles and chat in WorthIt's saloon. On Sunday though, the boat quickly filled so that by 2pm when we cast off from the marina, there were in addition to the 8 of us another 4 couples and 4 assorted teenagers aboard. Bruce and I did what we could to help Sheila beside moving WorthIt 4nm out to Buck Island for an afternoon of snorkelling and scuba diving om the wreck of the Cartanza Señora.

The only sort of shark attacks I'd ever imagined were like those in the Jaws films but it seems things don't always go that way. Sheila and I were the only ones on board and preparing food when we heard cries for help from one of the sugar scoop stern platforms. Bruce had hauled one of the teenage scuba divers that far up from the wreck and seeing the problem Sheila and I managed to get the boy half out of the water on his belly. There was no room for Bruce to get out of the water past the boy's prone body so he left Sheila and I to get on with things while he swam to the other hull. The boy wasn't breathing and was too heavy for us to lift to the main deck so in the cramped space I used a very old artificial respiration technique of alternating pressure on his back and lifting his elbows to keep him going until help arrive. As luck would have it the before Bruce even got to us the boy was coughing and spluttering so all that was left for Bruce and I to do was help him up the steps and for Sheila to excuse herself and get back to the galley.

"Don't you dare tell my parents what happened," the boy begged. "If they find out I will be grounded for life!" Which is why the afternoon continued as though nothing had happened. Swimmers gradually tired of bothering the fish, showered and changed into dry clothes so by 17:30 WorthIt II was back securely in her marina berth where at 18:00 the guests were served in Sheila's words, 'Homard sauté à la crème'.

"Well little lady this is mighty fine," one of the guests exclaimed to Sheila when she next approached the table, "but I know my seafood and this is 'Lobster Newberg'".

I'm not sure if it was the implied criticism of her culinary knowledge or being referred to as 'little lady' but Sheila exploded. "Don't you dare talk to me as though I don't know what I'm doing in the galley. If you knew what you were doing as a parent you'd have taught your son to have a bit of respect for sharks so Bruce and Venus wouldn't be waiting on you this evening without a word of thanks for saving you son's life!"

That's why the full story came out as told by the red faced boy. How on finding a harmless nurse shark tucked under a ledge he had vigorously prodded it to get it out for a better view. In fleeing the shark had head-butted him in the solar plexus and with a flick of its tail ripped the respirator from his mouth leaving him winded and gasping in water.

The boy was correct in one thing as he was immediately grounded until he left for college at 18, to take effect once they got back to Texas. There was however an unexpected bonus effect as the social gulf that divided the Worth's and their friends from we crew dissolved for a few hours. It was after all Christmas Eve…

Chapter 56

It's 06:30 Christmas morning and I'm jogging the seafront of Charlotte Amelie as there haven't been many opportunities to get out early in the morning and any later it would be too warm to run. I wonder as I'm running if the children here have woken their parents early and where Santa leaves their presents in homes lacking chimneys. By the BBQ?

On I reaching the edge of town after a mile or so I turn back toward the marina but this time on a parallel road one street inland where there are the many jewellery shops that cater to the cruise ships. Awkwardly on this main street as I run I have to readjust myself up top, wondering as I do so if I will have trouble getting into my bridesmaid dress - Grandma Tina will be livid if it doesn't fit! In all the 3 miles run takes me nearly 30 minutes so I'm hardly racing but it feels good to stretch my legs and I did lose time window shopping!

Back on WorthIt there is still no movement as I make my tea and pick up my phone to punch 01144-029-######

"Happy Christmas Da! Is everyone ok?

"We're well and missing you, sweetheart. It isn't be the same without you. Litara is here and we're expecting Tina and Bill soon. Where are you?"

And on the conversation went with Mum joining in and saying she thought the interview on television went well although she wished I'd worn something less 'revealing' than the off-the-shoulder top. Litara then came on to say she would call me later in the day leaving me feeling… that the call was an anti-climax which for some reason left me close to tears? Christmas Day was supposed to be a time of hugs and kisses, not reassuring words from thousands of miles away. Somehow I both knew that and knew that in real life families don't go round hugging each other!

By this time everybody was up - even the boys - and Sam had taken over the galley to make devilled kidneys, bacon and mushrooms for everyone. It didn't sound very Texan but was she explained an ancient family tradition going back at least 10 years when an English aunt visited for Christmas and insisted they find a butcher who could supply them. The ensuing search was memorable which was why it was now repeated each year - this year's were found and supplied by one of the previous day's guests who couldn't quite believe Sam was going to make her family eat offal! Into my notebook went ➆ Christmas traditions - decorations for the boat.

No sooner were we cleared up from breakfast, which was surprisingly good, then any plans we crew had were thrown into disarray. The mother of our shark prodding guest wanted us all including the crew to join them for after dinner fun and relaxation by the pool at their villa. The Worths had been going up to the villa in any case and we could hardly turn down the invitation but I think we would have preferred to have the boat to ourselves to indulge that most followed of Christmas traditions - vegetating whilst watching old movies!

The Worths and Tracy headed off to church leaving Sheila, Bruce and I to our pagan revelries - or not as Sheila decided she needed Bruce to celebrate so I went for a walk with my camera to give them some privacy.

I found first an unchristmassy synagogue which is over 200 years old and Blackbeard's Castle which was over 300 years old but appeared to have no connection to the pirate Blackbeard (Edward Teach). In my mind there was nothing but indians living in camps in the Caribbean before the Europeans came but Christopher Columbus found villages of different tribes here which made it a type of pre-European town until newly introduced diseases wiped out the population - my Anglocentric history education didn't seem to have given me any idea of what the rest of the world had been up to over the centuries.

We all gathered back aboard for a lunch of a Christmas Ham which made a lot more sense than trying to roast a large turkey in the tropics and didn't leave me with the usual Christmas feeling of being over-stuffed. Toasts were made all round, dishes washed and then we had a quick personal tidy and freshen of makeup - I was wearing the outfit Mum had criticised earlier bought at heavy discount from the television wardrobe. At the last moment I added a gold broach and dusting of gold to my eyeshadow to be in tune with the Christmas spirit girded my metaphorical loins and joined the others as we were ushered to three waiting cars…

It seems our hosts had no space or expense worries in adding a few extra guests to their already large party - the view and the pool were spectacular so picking a sunshade and lounger I was relaxing to see how things unfolded when my phone rang as Litara had promised.

"Happy Christmas Mrs Goose-who-lays-the-golden-eggs." were Litara's first words!"

"Happy Christmas to you too Sis but what are you talking about?"

Viewing figures for the Bilbao documentary were small but very good for that sort of programme due to the 'audience pulling power" of the building and it had been well reviewed next day. I in particular was highlighted first for my impact as a fresh, original presenter, then as a woman with unusual presence for an 18 year old and only lastly for having 'grown up as a boy'.

"Don't get big-headed as not enough people saw it to make you an instantly recognised public figure but it looks as though you've got lucky on the gender thing. Research suggests that with Hayley on Coronation Street and Dana International winning Eurovision, being transgender is no longer big news. Most people didn't even register as newsworthy that openly transgender Georgina Beyer became a member of the New Zealand Parliament at the end of 1999."

"But you know I'm not transgender Litara," I objected, quietly so nobody near me heard.

"That doesn't matter. What is important is that the other documentary makers think with the Captain Cook voyage as a link you will have sufficient credibility and pulling power that we don't need to play on your personal gender transition. You might even be able to turn presenting into a longer career or, in a few years, be reading the 9 o'clock News!"

Slowly I calmed my over-excited sister, who was clearly 'high' on the success of her plan, and I promised to phone her as soon as we arrived in the Dominican Republic before putting my phone away

"Oh my gawd! It's that woman orf the telly!"

I turned to face my mega-decibel accuser. "It's you innit? I'd recognise that top anywhere!"

It seems new neighbours freshly flown in from the UK had been invited the party but I was spared having to make explanations by a call to order from our host.

"Ladies and gentlemen. we have special guests here today in the shape of the crew of yacht WorthIt down in the harbour. Yesterday they gave us the greatest Christmas gift anyone could wish when they saved the life of our son from a savage shark attack. As they will be sailing on in the morning my wife and I wanted to make this party a special thank you to them and to offer a small Christmas Gift as a memento." Glasses were raised to us in a toast and we each had to go up and receive an envelope containing $2,500 in what must be the most humiliating experience of my life!

It took an hour for us to politely extricate ourselves from the party arranging a lift back down the hill, but by sundown we were back aboard doing what we should have been doing all along - arguing over which movie to watch. We discussed just in how many ways the afternoon had offended without actually pledging to give the money back and I solved the conundrum of Bruce - he was that boy a few years on. Born to privilege and with the best education money could buy he had become determinedly downward mobile intent on getting his feet on the ground.

Chapter 57

It's about 360 nm to Luperon on the north coast of the Dominican Republic steering a direct course to the north of the islands of Culebra and Puerto Rico with a current of up to a knot helping us along. So less than 2 days and no early start needed? That cut no ice with Tracy who had been listening to weather forecasts and being concerned had us cleared with customs and immigration and was ready to cast off at 09:00 on Boxing Day

"I've sorted watches of 4 hours on and 8 off as follows Tracy explained: Venus, Sheila and Mike take 8 to 12, 12 to 4 and 4 to 8 respectively; Daniel, Sam and Jacob do 10 to 2, 2 to 6 and 6 to 10 respectively. That leaves Bruce and I doing 6 hours on and 6 off with me taking 8 to 2 and Bruce 2 to 8. This leg may be hard work as first there will be a lot of shipping to watch out for and second there is a weather front moving down from the american east coast. It isn't a storm but if it reaches us it will give us headwinds and very steep waves stopping us in our tracks so I want to get as far as we can as fast as we can before it gets here."

I don't think Tracy was trying to scare us but the mood was very different to when we left St Maarten and this time with light winds the engines remained on giving us 10 knots through the water so by evening when I began my next watch we were already leaving Puerto Rico and heading across the northern side of the Mona Passage with ships changing course around our position to confuse me. The breeze had remained from the northeast but slowly died to nothing so I furled the headsail to stop it flapping about as we ploughed on into the moonless night. At midnight sharing a hot drink with Sheila who was just coming on watch Tracy commented that the stars had disappeared from the northern sky. Two hours later I woke from a light doze as Bruce took over from Tracy so I put my head on deck to see what was happening.

The breeze was back but this time from the south and Tracy changed course slightly to port. "We're heading for Puerto Santa Barbara," Tracy instructed Bruce. "The course is 286° magnetic and I want to make the best speed we can because although it's from the south now I think by dawn the wind will have veered to the west and be right on the nose. Wake me if you can't hold to the course."

At 07:00 I woke again just as Bruce woke Tracy with the news that he had reduced sail as the wind rose toward 20 knots but he couldn't hold the course any more. I watched as she marked our position on the chart and commented "We've done well and there's only 30 miles to go. Keep hard on the wind until we are heading 340° magnetic then we'll furl the jib and motor direct the last few miles.

There was too much noise for anyone to sleep by now as a true wind of 20 knots gave an apparent wind of 30 knots on deck and short, steep waves started to slam into the underside of the bridge deck between the catamaran's hulls. When I came back on watch at 08:00 I had on my foul weather gear and peeked round the edge of the cabin at the grey wind streaked sea - it looked a lot like the Bristol Channel back home!

We only got one more hour's sailing in but by that time we were in the lee of the large spit of land that sticks out halfway along the northeast coast of the Dominican Republic. Ahead of us I could see beyond the island's lee a freighter on what was to have been our course to Luperon - it had a lot of white water at its bows! Our head sail was furled making our speed drop dramatically as we changed course to the southwest but we were going to get in to a safe harbour.

As we relaxed eating lunch at anchor in the port near Samana (Santa Bárbara de Samaná) it was all so civilised. There had been a slight problem in that for the last few miles we could barely make headway with out twin 130 hp engines against the 30 knot wind but that was in the past. This was a proper port of entry so as soon as Tracy had done the paperwork we could go and explore and what we had seen in the guide book of the town looked interesting.

"Careful!" warned Michael. "This is a beautiful country but the tourist areas are separated from the rest because crime is high. Don't make yourself a target. Boys, don't get into any fights!"

Always practicality has to be put first even in paradise but shore-time in a new country was too inviting to be put off for long even if it was a wet dinghy ride away with the spray from the wind. I'd bought pesos, the local currency, in Cardiff before leaving home so soon after Tracy cleared the paperwork I found a place to make a phonecall to Litara and, at Tracy's suggestion I told her we hoped to be in Luperon on Friday morning - which was the same day my family were flying into nearby Gregorio Luperón airport. After considering timing we agreed that I'd find my own way the 10 miles to their hotel on Saturday if they didn't find me on Friday.

Leaving the phone centre I made my way slowly to the café near the dinghy where we were all meeting in an hour. A padlock had stopped the dinghy being stolen but not from being used as a dive platform by the local children. I didn't stop them as they were doing no harm however they must have sensed they were being watched and rather than leave decided to join me at my café table to be joined by their older brothers and sisters. I was getting nervous until two of the boys started strumming guitars and I understood that they were just kids passing the time as best as they could like anywhere else in the world. I ended up with one of the guitars trying with the other guitarist to play 'Duelling Banjoes' which at least amused the younger children. That's when I heard,

"Hola, Venus!"

I'm not good with names but when the last time you met someone you were running on pure adrenalin in front of a TV camera in Bilbao it helps you to remember… "Aarón?"

Chapter 58

Aarón joked in Spanish with the gathering I'm guessing, not speaking the language I couldn't be sure, and they in acceptance cleared a space for him at our table while I passed back the guitar I'd borrowed.

"I hope you don't mind but I told them that you, my niece, are not very good on the guitar as being so beautiful you don't have to be a good player."

"My friends understand English and that while your vision is good you are going deaf, grandfather."

A few giggles and the sound of what I hoped was translation of my reply was whispered among the our gathering but Aarón was blushing instead of laughing… With one word 'grandfather' I'd as much as said he was too old at 40(?) to be considered as a possible father to my children but then he had tried to take over my little party so tit-for-tat? The gathered local gang soon worked out that Aarón considered himself my protector which seemed to take the shine off my exotic allure as far as they were concerned so they said their goodbyes and headed toward the town centre in search of new diversions.

"Sorry if I embarrassed you with the grandfather dig Aarón, but what on earth brings you to this speck in the ocean other than the obvious jumbo jet?"

"It's not so small really and I was born here. I did grow up in Spain though so although I still come to visit my family on the island when I can I usually think of myself as Spanish. What about you?"

"A mixture of reasons. I'm crewing a yacht on its way to the Bahamas; my grandmother on my father's side is marrying at Puerto Plata on New Year's Eve, and my late grandfather on my mother's side was from here so we really we might really be related. What is your surname as my grandfather was Joseph…

"Martinez!" we both said at the same time.

That was the moment my wandering crew-mates descended on the cafe, each full of their own news of things they had seen so I made the introductions and let them relax before bringing the conversation back to Aarón and I. Martinez was a common name and beside Granddad Joe's assumed first name of Joseph the only other thing I knew was that he had been in the British Army. I did add that my mother, who was arriving on Friday, would know more but Aarón, with his team of online researchers, saw no problem in tracking down any connection.

Michael and Tracy had put together a plan for a last scuba dive of their holiday next day off a nearby islet but Aarón had to decline the invitation to join our outing instead promising to meet us as we arrived in Luperon. He did however stay with us to promenade as the wind eased and the sun lowered, walking out and back along the striking local Bridge to Nowhere and while doing so it seemed natural to link my arm through his much as Sam did with Michael.

By the time the sun had set, which it does quickly in the tropics, Aarón had steered us back to the dinghy and I was thinking he really would make a good uncle - or maybe I was just that I was missing my family. I kissed him on the cheek like a good niece as he bid his farewells and drove off.

Throughout the day squally showers had come through so we didn't risk a wet dinghy ride by hanging about ashore and by 21:00 we were fed watered and watching Captain Ron while arguing if the main film would be Notting Hill or The Matrix. It seems some disagreements are inevitable even on a luxury yacht in the Caribbean!

Two hours later Julia Roberts was smiling, Hugh Grant was looking pleased with himself and Elvis Costello was singing She because Michael on board had made the inevitable choice to keep Sam sweet!

Next morning the wind was down but still from the north so we moved to the south side of Cayo Leventado about 3 miles away to go snorkelling and scuba diving. Watching other people playing in the beautifully clear water was incredibly frustrating while I couldn't wear a swimming costume so I stopped on WorthIt cleaning up while Tracy did dinghy duty and got a dive herself.

The first I was aware anything was wrong was on hearing a piercing whistle. Going on deck I could see the dinghy full of people drifting out to sea. Bruce, recognisable in his red t-shirt had the cover off the outboard engine and someone was swimming between the dinghy and WorthIt.

With no other boats around there was no option but to start WorthIt's engines, raise the anchor and pick them up. Fortunately by the time the anchor broke free of the bottom the swimmer, Tracy it turned out, was climbing the stern steps and with her steering it was a simple matter to recapture the errant dinghy with its anxious passengers. This time there had been no real threat because we were in a large bay so the dinghy would drift at most 20 miles before reaching a shore but it could have been very different.

It was when we noticed the wind had veered to to northeast that the lost dinghy anchor had a likely explanation. The frayed and broken anchor line had probably having been wrapped around something sharp as the dinghy swung to the new wind direction. Still we were on the move so now was as good a time as any to sail on the 130 nm to Luperon.

Every passage has its own distinct nature and this was my first experience of a sailing just off a coast for a long way. Tracy warned us about local fishing boats but it was their nets and pots that proved the real problem. While it was still light we kept a keen lookout as we moved around the shallow coast of the peninsula that had sheltered us but come sunset we moved a good 5 miles off the coast. On a moonless night the lights of each town showed clearly as a sort of dome but in the water we would have run into any ship without a light let alone a tiny fishing-net bouy before we saw it,

Through the night we sailed at about 7 knots prepared at any moment to be stopped by a line around a propellor or rudder but Tracy's caution paid off so it wasn't until 09:00 next morning when finally closing the coast to enter Luperon that we found ourselves going nowhere and Bruce was dispatched over the side in scuba gear to free us. He would have cut the line if he had to but it was some poor fisherman's livelihood that would be lost and fortunately with me pushing down on the rope with a boat hook from above and Bruce wiggling it from below we freed the rudder and made it safely into Luperon Yacht Club marina to mark the end of my first trans-ocean voyage.

Chapter 59

Packing my bags felt very strange. I'd only been on WorthIt II for a month but sailing her day after day had become my way of life. The boat wasn't 'homey' - more hotel-like than anything - but the rest of the crew and I had 'done stuff' with her. We'd made a difference in each other's lives in a world where there were artists, scientists, business people and politicians famous for their achievements who had never been so involved one-to-one with another human being.

One-to-one relationships seem to be what my life is about and the lack of them in some areas the reason I hadn't any sense of direction when I finished my exams at college. Mum could be 'an accountant' and Dad 'a boatbuilder' where what mattered at work was not for whom the work was done but to be payed at all. Either I just didn't have a talent like theirs or I had something they didn't which stopped me following their path.

More or less done packing I put on a bit of makeup, in preparation for meeting non-sailing people, shorts and a yellow top but layed out a skirt ready to change into if I should get a ride today to the airport or hotel. Joining the others ashore I found them with several crew off the many yachts out at anchor. Lots of them were long-term liveaboard cruisers but a bit older than those I'd met in other anchorages - retired Americans mostly rather than wanderers working with a boat as a home. The nearby town was small but good for fresh food we were told; there was little local entertainment but lots of things were organised among the yachts…

The yachties were indeed friendly and trying to be helpful but our circumstances were very different so I gravitated to a table with two girls about my own age

"Hi, do you mind if I join you before my hair goes grey and I start collecting recipes?"

"As long as you don't talk boats or health care and you're under 30 pull up a chair. I'm Hannah and this is my twin sister Madison and yes we don't look alike. The accent which you are desperately trying not to laugh at is from Plains, Georgia."

"I'm Venus Williams from Wales not California and my sister is Litara not Serena. My accent makes yours look moderate but I am without doubt the best tennis player on the boat I just arrived on."

"The size of that thing it wouldn't surprise me if it had a tennis court! You're not family I presume."

"How did you guess? No, I've just crewed her from Europe but I'm leaving here to meet my family who are flying in today."

"We promise not to tell the yachties that you're a land lubber because we are too. When we went to college our parents got empty nest syndrome, sold up and bought a boat. It's back to college with hot showers and flush toilets for us next week!"

"Venus!" Looking up I could see Aarón making his way into the café from the car park so I waved him over.

"Girls Aarón; Aarón girls and if you will excuse me Aarón breaks the under 30 rule so…"

"Surely you remember Venus that the under 30 rule does not apply to men who wear Armani Please join us Aarón."

"On your own head be it Madison but don't blame me when he offers to put you in the movies."

Between Madison's outrageous bouts of flirting I found that Aaron's plan was that we leave here at 4 pm with my bags to meet the plane landing at 5:30 pm which made no sense to me since I could go straight to the hotel where I would be sharing a room with Litara. "There's something you aren't telling me Aarón - why do you really want to go to the airport?"

"Remind me never to play poker with you Venus! You're right and it's because I want to talk with your mother as I've good reason to believe we're closely related. I talked on the phone with my mother last night and she had an elder brother Joseph who left the to become a British soldier but there was something special about him which your mother might know."

"Do you mean that he was a guevodoche, and before you ask, yes he really was my grandfather."

It having been settled that I was leaving at 4 pm I did want to spend what time I had left with my WorthIt friends so explaining my predicament I excused myself and went back aboard WorthIt to change and grab my bags. In the short time I was away though it seems they were hatching plans for me. Of all the things I'd learnt on this trip there was only one in demand on that last afternoon with Tracy, Sheila, Bruce and the Worths.
"Venus" Sam announced "We've promised to give dance lessons while we're here and having seen you in action… "

I can't think of many more unlikely or any more enjoyable ways to round off what had been a great month with the best of company than a full blown Salsa party. Dancing somehow made age and background unimportant. Even though Hannah and Madison were bored with their parents company when I first met them, once the music was on and everyone on their feet that was forgotten and they were still at it when Aarón and I loaded my bags into his car and we headed to the airport.

Chapter 60

"The whole trip has been built around Grandma Tina's wedding; sorry her name's really Litara Williams, but my father called her Tina because that's Samoan for mother and I thought that was her name when I was young and it got more confusing because my elder sister who you know through work is also Litara Williams." I was trying to bring Aarón up to speed on the family connections while he was driving to the airport to meet them.

"Grandma Tina was a friend of Grandpa Joe who it seems was your uncle. Then Grandpa Joe's daughters, Joy and Sophie, married Grandma Tina's son Isaac, my Da, and Da's best friend since childhood Jack. Is that clear? Any questions?"

"Yes, how do you talk like that without seeming to take a breath? When I interviewed you for the television it was like talking to a different person, someone of about 30 but now…?"

"Motormouth!" I apologised. "Sailing gives you time to think and it seems my head has at least 3 people living in it and Motormouth is Venus who is only a few months old and very hormonal so acts and talks like a 12 year old!"

"So who are the others in your head? Who gave the interview?"

"One of them is like my mother who is an accountant and one of them is like my Da who is kind of scary to some people but I can always rely on… But who gave the interview? Try this. If my body was this car then my mum would be the steering wheel so left or right; my Da would be the brakes and throttle so faster or slower and young Venus would be the engine breathing in through her senses and pushing out power but the person you talked to would be the one who decides where the car goes. I think maybe it's grown up Venus you talked to because when I have children she's the kind of mother I'll try to be."

"It's been a pleasure to meet you all," concluded Aarón as we pulled into the car park.

"I know that flights sometimes get delayed but do you ever think how amazing it is that we can travel thousands of miles while expecting to arrive within minutes of the timetable?" Aarón asked trying to calm my impatience!

"Litara!" I squealed sighting my sister leading the pack coming out of the immigration. Aarón was the picture of imperturbability as we congregated around the courier who was with the coach sent to take 3 wedding parties to the hotel. Too my surprise my cousins Elizabeth, Mark and Matthew were with Aunt Sophie and Jack and Grandma Tina's brother Taulapapa and sister-in-law Anna brought the wedding party up to 15 so numbers on our side of the family were respectable but looking at Bill with no family beside him I couldn't help but wonder how he felt.

"Hello Grandpa," I said taking hold of Bill's arm. "Feeling nervous? Ready to back out?"

"Never ban-ogha (Gaelic granddaughter), I've waited a long time for this. Your friend I recognise from the television as Mr Martinez but I'm surprised to see him here with you." My explanation may have confused things but Bill grasped that there was a probable family connection and that he 'a simple Scot' was going to be connected by marriage to a branch of the United Nations.

Rather than confuse things by splitting the party, Aarón and I simply followed the coach to the hotel while I filled him in on a few last minute family details.

"There is only one Venus you know." Aaron interrupted me. "Over the last few hours I've seen you with lots of different people and unfailingly your behaviour fitted the moment. That's why you did so well in the interview because we believe and trust the future you see and act on. That's where your credibility lies."

"If I could see the future do you think I'd have chosen to spend the last month bouncing around the ocean? My whole problem is that I don't know what I should do."

"Nobody knows what anyone should do Venus but you convince me and others that you know what people will do, including yourself."

"That's just common sense Aarón, everyone knows how people behave even though they don't always act on it."

"If you say so Venus, but explain to me how and why you convincingly said 'when' rather than 'if' in your statement 'When I have children.'"

That shut me up for the rest of the ride and for much of the dinner which Aarón shared with us. I was pleased to see he got on well with Bill and they chatted happily leaving my sister to bring me up to date on wedding plans.

"Grandma's gone all Samoan on us." she explained. "The violet dresses we picked are history! Royal Samoans it seems wear siapo or tapa cloth which is made from beaten mulberry tree bark."

"So we're wearing tree bark to the wedding?"

"Not quite but we will be wearing the traditional pattern that they dye the bark."

"Ok, but isn't that going to clash with whatever she has chosen?"

"Grandma's dress is like ours but more so with bare shoulders on a 75 year old !"

"Sis, if Grandma wants to walk down the aisle in a bunny-girl outfit there isn't a force in the world will stop her. We can I'm sure find a piece of material in case she wants something to wrap around her shoulders on the day but sometimes you have to bow to the inevitable so lets forget it for now and join the others."

"You've put on weight but you're still too thin." were the words that greeted me from Mum

"I've missed you too Mum." I replied giving her a kiss. I used to be amazed at what I thought of as Mum's 'lose, lose' comments to my sister in past years and now I was getting the same treatment. No answer was expected just acceptance that you were the loser and Mum was 'the boss'. "I hear that Litara and I aren't wearing the violet dresses so at least the fact that I've gone up a cup size won't matter as long as the new dress fits."

It didn't take long to get us both up to date on what had happened over the past month. Mum had no real interest in sailing or the places I'd visited but was concerned whether I had been eating properly. I in return had no interest in her work and the neighbours except to hear if any new boyfriend had appeared at Serena's home. Aarón on the other hand interested her intensely once she heard of a likely family connection. Aunt Sophie was called over and the rest of us bowed out as the sisters interrogated their new cousin.

"You've made a big hit with Aarón," commented Bill.

"What do you mean? He hardly knows me… "

"Well we talked about redevelopment because of that programme Bilbao Reborn he made for the television. That got us onto the future of islands like this one and the ones I'm involved with in Scotland."

"Yes I could see you two were getting on well and now I understand why but what has that got to do with me?"

"Aarón told me that if I wanted to know the future the best person to ask was you."

"That's silly, he's just got a bee in his bonnet because of a conversation we were having in the car."

"In that case you won't mind if I ask what you see in the future for an island like this."

I looked about the hotel restaurant and thought of the little I'd seen of any of these islands without any idea of what Bill might want from me.

"They're screwed! It's obvious. Outside money comes in and creams off whatever the island has to offer whether that's bananas or tourist dollars then the money leaves again. Local people can only earn money in low paid jobs for outsiders!"

Chapter 61

"Where did Venus go?" asked Bill, looking left and right but not at me.

"Sorry Bill, it's your wedding we're here for not an economic summit," I said embarrassed by my own outburst.

"I asked and you answered so there's no need to apologise and you proved Aarón's point. After an island holiday most go home having given no thought to what they've seen beyond whether they've had a good time. You've been having a good time I think but it hasn't stopped you seeing the obvious problems for those who live here. You might like to think what you would do here with up to a billion pounds to play with!"

"Ok granddad, but I think we'd better rescue Aarón first."

From that point as the evening wound down it seemed natural for Aarón, Bill, Litara and I to make our own little group planning the weekend ahead since comparing dates of birth for Grandpa Joe had confirmed that we were family and Aarón had accepted a wedding invitation from Bill. The next morning Litara and I would be making any necessary last minute dress alterations and the evening was pre-arranged by the wedding organisers as 'hen and stag' sessions. Tomorrow, Saturday afternoon, Aarón would be taking us on a trip to meet his side of the family.

"Ahhhhh…… !" Boats don't have baths but this hotel suite did and next morning I made the most of it. Before going to bed the previous evening Litara and I had done an inspection and zapping session on each other with the 'family' electric tweezers so after my bath all I needed was a session with my epilator to be generally fuzz free for the wedding. Being a typical human being I could enjoy my thick black mane, be grateful that my facial hair wasn't coarse yet frustrated that every single inappropriate hair showed clearly. Some of my best friends are blondes but that doesn't stop me being prejudiced against their fair peach fuzz!

A sensible person would have then gone down to breakfast after that but Litara was only now heading for the bathroom and I couldn't resist trying on my bridesmaid's dress.

"Litara!" In summary I had lost a little weight, not put it on. Except that is, it seemed, in two prominent symmetrical locations! The dress must have been made using my measurements two inches ago! It is undignified for a grown woman to cry over something as silly as a dress not fitting but I did - to be a bridesmaid is a rite of passage and it seemed I was going to miss it by the two inch gap at the top of the zip!

My big sister is a genius at organising repairs and replacements in obscure corners of the world so on being dragged from the bathroom she extricated me from the recalcitrant dress and solved the problem in a flash… !

"Let me get this right," I said between spoonfuls of fruit and yoghurt. "You've lost weight."

"Correct; and if you hadn't been so impatient you wouldn't have found yourself trying to get into the dress that had been taken in for me!"

"True, but this way I get to carry for the rest of my life the humiliating memory of behaving as any other spoilt 12 year old girl would."

"I'll try to remember this moment if I ever think of suggesting that you 'get in touch with your inner child' when you are 50 and boring company. Your inner child is something of an hysterical brat."

I love my big sister dearly but that was when the rest of the family joined us and I got to chat with my great aunt Anna who was Grandpa Malcolm's sister and the 70 year old Matron of Honour. There had never been any question about choosing her for the role and it had been agreed she be called matron rather than maid in remembrance of her late partner Elsie who she had never been able to marry.

"I suppose you'll be wanting to marry now which will put back the right of real women to marry another generation!" Anna and I hadn't met each other since my transition and clearly she had a different view of me than Grandma Tina.

"Maybe not. I think the law was stupid not letting you and Elsie marry so maybe I'll marry another woman then get pregnant. That would force them to bring the laws into the 21st century!"

"Is that possible… ? Nobody said… I thought… ."

"I'll be finding out myself when they operate next week Anna. Physically I'm pretty much a hotchpotch of bits but even if it's not possible, you and I are still family and I hope you won't let stupid laws come between us."

I didn't push my case any further than that as this was a wedding gathering and by the time we were all heading back to the rooms our spirits were light and excited. Leading the group I had taken the key to Grandma's room and was through the door before noticing the man going through the drawer to her dresser.

It wasn't long before I became all too keenly aware of the knife in his hand which he picked up from the dressing table top and held out in front of him as he charged to escape through the door which I was unfortunately blocking. To avoid being stabbed I leapt to my right but couldn't let him rush, knife-brandishing, into my family beyond the doorway so I back-handed the door shut as hard as years of tennis playing allowed and the thief ran straight into the edge of it leading with his face.

Luckily my father was not very far behind me and he Jack and Bill promptly hauled the thief off to reception and an appointment with the police leaving the rest of us to get on with our wedding preparations as though nothing had happened - in fact I'm not sure that Grandma Tina and Anna did know anything had happened.

That is where Aarón found us 2 hours later having plucked Bill from his poolside lounger on the way up. "Time for you to see the big city and meet your new relatives girls," he said rescuing Litara and I from an overdose of wedding instructions. Why is it that when generations mix the youngest present end up being treated like children?

The drive to Bella Vista on the south side of the built up area of Santiago went through places we would have avoided as 'outsiders' but Aarón assured us that it was as safe as most big cities and the apartment block where we finally got out was far from being a slum and the lady that Aarón introduced us to was every inch a grand lady.

"Mama this is Venus and this is Litara Williams who I have told you about and girls this is my mother and your Great Aunt, Gabriela Martinez."

Aunt Gabriela's English was impeccable and through the early afternoon we learnt much more of our family than Mum or Grandpa Joe had ever told us; such as Joe's name when growing up a girl was Jhoka and that there had been another brother Juan…

"Please be careful." she said addressing me. "I think you are like my brother Juan and he died when not much older than you. The doctors said it was a haemorrhage but my parents thought he was really my sister and it was menses which killed him!"

Chapter 62

"Why did your parents think Juan was a girl?""

"Where we grew up it was acknowledged when a guevedoche such as Jhoka became Joseph, it was almost a step up, but for a man to become feminine could not be accepted so Juan tried to hide the girlish figure. At home though, where we were seeing him every day, we could not help but notice his increasing femininity but what could we do? There were no boyfriends and no embarrassing behaviour but also there was no affordable medical help so we lived with it until the 'haemorrhage' at 19 years old."

By this time great Aunt Gabriela was in tears as though it had all been yesterday. While Litara and I were hugging her Aarón was on the phone to what turned out to be more relatives living nearby and with their arrival the mood soon lightened but unfortunately the language everyone used changed to Spanish. Bill and Litara managed reasonably well but I had only done French at school so all my effort went into just learning who was who which soon made me wonder, 'What nationality am I?'

Aunt Gabriela was a multiracial Dom'inican (a mix of Tanoi indian, Spanish and African but not pronounced Domin'ican which I'd learnt which means from the island of Domin'ica); Aarón said he was Spanish through a Catalan father and I'd thought of myself as Welsh/British despite my parents. I'd been looking on this finding relatives thing as something of a game but actually seeing these other relatives it hit me that my Mum and aunt Sophie must be Gabriela's and Aaron's closest blood relatives. Similarly back at the hotel, with Litara and I away, my Da's and Grandma Tina's closest blood relative present would be great uncle Taulapapa from Samoa - a man I'd never met before.

Last July, when I was taking my exams and wondering what to do next I'd assumed I knew everything I needed about nationality and race; about wealth and class and, like many people, about gender and sexuality. However with only 6 extra months experience in a larger world I learnt I knew nothing. Even Bill sitting in front of me was almost that ultimate of contradictions - a Scottish philanthropist!

Aarón drove us back by another route and I was surprised how developed this part of the island was which made the poorer homes all the more obvious.

"Do you think you would like living here Venus?" quizzed Aarón and I knew by his tone that a flippant reply would get slapped down.

"I know that for most of the world having the very rich and very poor next to each other is normal but even if I were rich it would make me very uncomfortable. If Aunt Gabriela's brother Juan were born today to a poor family would it be better than 50 years ago?"

"So how do you improve things for the poor?"asked Bill "or are they totally, as you put it yesterday, screwed?"

"Electricity. I've seen lots of cruising boats making their own electricity with solar panels and wind generators but I've there's nothing like that ashore here. A lot of the houses either don't have electricity or it looks as though they're stealing it by tapping into the power lines."

"Stealing is a cheap way of getting what you want and those panels and wind generators are expensive and rely on the sun and wind which isn't reliable."

"What happens if you have a national electricity network between towns then pay small suppliers to pump electricity into the network but pay them with free electricity up to the amount they put in… That way they could have better reliability and not have all the expense of storing energy. I don't know if what I'm suggesting is practical but it is possible because that is part of what Dad does with a boat's electrical system."

"If it works it would create local jobs maintaining the lines and generators that wouldn't quickly disappear." commented Aarón. "Of course there is the problem of initial finance."

Bill and Aarón then concentrated on ripping my suggestion apart and rebuilding it - a pastime that seems to give them enormous satisfaction

Solving the economic problems of a country is so much easier than selecting what to wear for a hen night but Litara had decided that we were going to sing a Samoan song for Grandma which was one of the first we had learnt and that would work best if we each wore a pareau. As they were cheap, fitted all sizes and she had brought them with her it confirmed my opinion that my big sister is an organisational genius - she had even arranged lei headdresses for both of us!

We joined Grandma, Mum, Sophie, Anna and cousin Elizabeth and headed down to to function room which had been reserved for the three combined hen gatherings arranged for that evening. A loud roar met us as we made our grand entrance which went way beyond anything our admittedly great beauty demanded. My first thought was it was because Grandma was at 75 an icon for all those who believe it is never too late but instead the hotel manager came in through a side door and crossed the room to place a huge garland around my neck. For some reason I was the heroine of the day although it took a while to understand why.

The thief that I had encountered that morning hadn't chosen my grandmother's room at random as when he was searched his pattern became clear for Grandma Tina was merely the last of the brides he robbed. It seems as an ex-employee he had keys, a knowledge of the room cleaning rota and an observation that among women, the one time of life they can be guaranteed to have the best family jewels on hand is for their wedding! There were 3 very happy brides plus very relieved hotel and wedding arranging companies who thought I was the best thing since 'best things' were invented and promised a free wedding and hotel accommodation when my turn came… They didn't mean to be cruel but that did hurt.

The evening can safely be described as being a success. Grandma was 75 and the other brides-to-be came with the sort of money that could afford an overseas wedding so the sort of loud behaviour I'd seen in Cardiff from hen nights wasn't to be expected but it came regardless and I'm not sure the male stripper and pole dancing competition were entirely appropriate even if Litara did win the pole dancing. Who'd've guessed?

Chapter 63

Marrying on New Year's Eve in The Dominican Republic is as close as you can get to guaranteeing perfect weather in a beautiful location. What I hadn't expected was the scale of the wedding. Instead of a temporary altar on the beach a full church ceremony was the order of the day. The bride's dress proved a perfect choice once she was seen alongside her kilted groom given that she was being given away by her brother Taulapapa with Isaac, my father, as the best man and both of them were wearing formal grey lava-lava.

As a bridesmaid I think I held myself together well, that is until the music Bill had arranged for leaving the church hit me - Louis Armstrong singing What a Wonderful World. Luckily Litara and Anna were there to support me before I dissolved into an emotional puddle!

We had the wedding reception back at the hotel and by usual standards, with only the 15 of us, it would be considered a small affair but Grandma and Grandpa McLeod had taken that as an opportunity to have the best of everything. The other two receptions held that day were similarly short on numbers so as each individual party concluded its eating, toasting and speech making the groups joined together with two bands spelling each other from separate stages over the evening as the celebrations progressed from reception to New Year's Eve party.

Despite my inexperience I got few breaks from the dance floor which Aarón put down to what he called the perfect timing of someone who could dance with imperfect partners. Despite all of the attention I think my favourite moment was late on being led through my very first waltz by my Da although it did strike me as ironic that the very first time a I got to dance with my father he was wearing a skirt albeit with a shirt and tie! With one thing and another dad and I had not managed to talk much since my family flew in so it was both a breather from the dance floor and a chance to catch up when he guided me to a table for the two of us.

"Most fathers with daughters your age are worried about boys and pregnancy but although that may well be in your future there is something more important we need to talk about now. Until last summer you were living as a boy and boys fight… Tell me honestly please, have you ever been beaten up in a fight?"

"Some boys may fight but not all of them. I was never the sort of person to fight beyond the odd skirmish to stand up for myself.

"So you didn't fight but you've always had lots of friends so you didn't hide away and you didn't get beaten up. I'm aware what people say about me; about me not being a person to be made angry. Have you ever thought that you might be like me?"

"Dad, I love and admire you but you are 2 or 3 inches taller than me, weigh without exaggeration more than twice as much and are I'd guess the strongest person in Cardiff and probably Wales. Where are the similarities?"

"I never have to fight because people think that as I am big, strong and fast they would loose. You never had to fight growing up because people thought they would lose."

"That's silly because nobody would ever be likely to think I'd beat them in a fight!"

"I had a chat with Serena back in Cardiff and she told me about the bag snatcher at the coach station and how you literally kicked his arse!"

"That doesn't count! I mean it's a cliché - I hit him with my handbag, for god sake! It's not like in the car park when you took on two men, knocking one out and breaking the other one's leg."

Dad looked at me for a long while without speaking then… "That wasn't me that was you and I saw the whole thing. The first man you hit in the temple with the rubber end of the walking stick then you hooked the second round the leg with the handle and yanked as you ran."

"But I thought it was you… I mean I'm not like that… I couldn't do that if I wanted to."

"And yet you did. Just like yesterday you saved Tina's jewels by putting the man in hospital with a broken jaw, cheekbone and nose. I know you aren't a fighter sweetheart but I've heard Bill and Aarón talk about your ability to see the future clearly through knowing how people will really behave. I've seen you on the television able to sway people into seeing things your way. Your sister believes you will be a big success and she isn't easily impressed.

In a short time the bells will ring and it will be 2001. Only a few days away now you will be in hospital for an operation, the thought of which must be scaring you but that is only the start of your year for in a few months you have agreed to set off and single-handedly sail around the world by way of Cape Horn and the Cape of Good Hope.

It amazes me that your mum and I could have produced you and this seems to be the time to tell you that I believe you can do all this. Maybe you've got a special talent to see the future and maybe you've got a guardian angel looking after you. What you do have for sure is my belief that you can do whatever you set out to do. Now lets join the others for midnight before I blubber all over you."

An hour later Litara and I sat on our balcony each looking at the new moon. We clinked our glasses

"Here's to 2001."

Epilogue of Book 1 and/or Prologue of Book 2

Waking up unaware of where you are with a slow realisation that you don't know who you are has been a staple of books and films almost as long as the media have existed. When I first woke several hours ago I had neither problem as despite feeling seven sorts of shitty I knew I was Delia Venus Williams, lying in private hospital bed in an isolation tent in London's Charing Cross - I simply didn't know what I was! The nurse who came to my bed hadn't even the curtesy to offer the usual placating phrase 'Everything went well'. Instead she told me I'd have to wait for Mr Pitt to explain.

That left me nothing to do while waiting for my doctor but to wonder at my journey to this moment which has been to say the least complicated. Even as little as a week ago I'd been sitting with my sister Litara on a hotel balcony in the Dominican Republic toasting the First Day of 2001. Beside being bridesmaids to our Grandma Tina on New Year's Eve we'd then spent the next 5 days travelling the country sightseeing and meeting newly found relatives who confirmed our status as Euro-African-Amerindian-Polynesians although to keep things simple in my case I could say Welsh.

I'd felt our travels and meetings should have been a more enjoyable experience than they actually were for seeing all those mothers, fathers, grandparents, aunts, uncles cousins and those in more complicated relationships left me feeling an isolated appendage rather than a real part of the family. My sister Litara either didn't need lovers and the prospect of children or hid it well but I wasn't built that way and openly needed more than money and status - I needed things I couldn't do alone.

As a start to each day of our holiday, to take my mind off the future I'd returned to my habit of morning runs and then, after a phone call to my doctor Charles Pitt in England, joined Litara on an aloe rich diet which she'd got enthusiastic about and Charles said wouldn't hurt and might help. Displacement therapy I think they call it when anything that distracts our attention is welcome. The long and the short of it was that when Litara and I had walked into the London hospital on Monday 8th January 2001, straight off the flight from the Dominican Republic I'd been as fit and physically prepared for surgery as at any time in my life but was an emotional basket case!

Why an earth had I continued with this operation when I could have had a standard low-risk hysterectomy and lived as either male or female? As soon as Bill died I would still have become a billionairess with as much power and attendant status as could be bought. Maybe it was a madness because although I'd never been diagnosed with any psychiatric disorder I'd still gone ahead and risked my life with a bunch of nutty, experimenting doctors and scientists for just the possibility of a baby.

It was the question Charles asked when I expressed my doubts that highlighted my problem. 'Are you frightened of dying, frightened of loosing your penis or are you frightened the operation won't work and you'll never have a child.' Without being desperate about it I knew I would continue to live as female regardless and I'd already risked my life for less during recent months so the answer was clear and repeating the words I'd used once before on the phone from Las Palmas I told him 'I'm frightened if the operation fails I will lose all hope but I must try so Charles, I've decided… I want a baby!'

"Good morning Venus, I'm sorry about the tent but it does show that the graft is in place and that the news is 'So far so good'. The scientists love your XX(y) cells which seem to hold out the possibility of future organ transplants without a regime of immune-suppressant drugs. For your case they have created from your chimeric trio of XX, XX(y) and XY cells on a collagen fibre base, a bridge between your XX cervix and the XY vagina the surgeon has created from your penis.

Mechanically everything went beautifully - I'm sorry to put it that way but top surgeons like yours do tend to impress me as behaving like a cross between sculptors and mechanics. What we now have to do is wait and see how your body adapts and accepts while avoiding infection. The surgeon kept as much length from the penis as possible to have something to work with in case of rejection or infection but that does mean that the bulbourethral/Bartholin's glands which we now hope will lubricate your vagina are deeper inside you than normal for an XX vagina but they are there which is a bonus and more than we knew before the operation.

The bad new is that unlike your last operation we can't have you quickly on your feet so I want a physiotherapist with you twice a day. That will be expensive and annoying but healing is my area of expertise and I strongly recommend it.

So began my days of torture through hours of boredom, physio, tests, more physio and minute inspection by my own scientist who couldn't have been more pleased if he been called Frankenstein so I called him Frank and if the result is a baby no doubt there will be some who will think of me as a monster.

Litara came in every day then Mum, Dad, Grandma, and Bill visited on the following Monday when they flew into Heathrow on the way home to Cardiff after their holiday. The day after that I came out of the tent for another trip to the theatre for the removal under local anaesthetic of bits and pieces of what they politely called scaffolding and two days after that the catheter went and I was finally allowed out of bed.

By this time I felt more than ready to leave and Charles agreed but Frank was the sticking point. It was two weeks to the day before Charles, Litara (on behalf of the insurance company) and I faced him with either signing that I had complied with all agreements made that had allowed him to spend research money on me or he would have to pay all of the future bills!

There would be no stopping at a London flat with Litara this time as Bill had just bought a motorhome and insisted on driving up to London with Grandma Tina and chauffeuring me back to Mum and Dad's in a reclining position like some Lady Muck. I lasted about 30 minutes in bed before frustration overcame me. Reassuring everyone that Charles had insisted that I wasn't some fragile flower I joined them up front where Grandma was playing MC with her choice of music.

I shouldn't have been surprised just because Grandma's 75. She is after all a newly wed and the originator of girl power back in the 1950s so driving down the motorway we went through the list of girl power anthems from Aretha Franklin to Shania Twain with Bill smiling like the cat that got the cream surrounded by us, his new family, singing at the top of our voices.

To be continued