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

---

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

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

"No milk? Are you sure love?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Really, why?" my companion asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Bye Mary, you too," I replied.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Oh, did you wait in the cafe?"

"Yes and I got you a tea too."

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

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

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

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

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

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

*Long life milk

---

To be continued

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

---

Part 1

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Wow, that's amazing"

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

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

"She's gone," I said quietly.

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

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

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

"Yes"

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

I hesitated.

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

"No"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I'm breastfeeding her" I said simply

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

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

"Show me what?" she demanded.

"How I can breast feed" I replied.

"But you're a man!"

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

"Oh my god! You are too"

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

I covered myself up again

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Since she was born" I replied

The sound of a baby crying interrupted our conversation.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What is it?" I asked.

She lent forward toward me.

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

---

To Be Continued...
 
End of Part One

*Nappies known as diapers in the US I believe

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

---

Part 2

 

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

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

"OK," she mouthed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes, you're right"

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

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

"Hope?" asked Jules.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bekka began to whimper.

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

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

"Bekka," I replied.

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

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

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

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

"Hi Steve" said Mary a little hesitantly.

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

The reply was cold and unexpected.

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

---

To Be Continued...
 
End of Part Two

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

---

Part 3

 

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

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

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

"Steve?"

"Yes"

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

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

"Why?" she asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Thanks," I said.

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

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

"And you're what?" asked Jules.

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

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

"Maybe....."

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

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

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

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

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

I smiled at her.

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

"OK, let me explain"

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

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

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

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

I settled back into my parental bonding with Bekka.

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

"Hi Susan," I responded.

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

"I think she appreciates it," I responded.

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

"Oh really?"

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

"Just doing my best, Susan"

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

"Wow, some big spenders," I responded.

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

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

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

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

I chuckled.

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

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

"I'll come quietly," I responded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What is it?" Jules asked.

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

"Who's it from?" she asked.

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

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

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

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

"Noooooooooooooooooo"

---

To Be Continued...
 
End of Part Three

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

---

Part 4

 

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

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

'Dear Steve

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

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

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

I am so sorry, please forgive me.

Mary'

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jules smiled briefly.

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

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

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

"Can I come?"

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

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

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

I smiled and gently stroked Bekka's head.

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

"What way are you lucky?" Jules asked.

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

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

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

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

There was quiet between us for a little while.

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

"No, why?" she replied.

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

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

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

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

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

"I could give you a lift?"

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

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

"Thanks Jules"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Am I that ugly?" I asked.

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

---

To Be Continued...
 
End of Part Four

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

---

Part 5

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

"How did you sleep?" she asked.

"Very badly," I replied.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Thanks," I said

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

"What do you mean?" I asked.

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

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

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

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

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

She paused and then looked at me.

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

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

She smiled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Can I see it?" she asked.

I took my hands off my dick.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I quickly put the clothes on and then the wig.

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

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

"Have a look"

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

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

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

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

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

"What is that?" I asked.

"Let's go for a drink"

---

To Be Continued...
 
End of Part Five

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

---

Part 6

 

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

NEXT SERVICES
10 MILES
CORLEY SERVICES
WELCOME BREAK

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

"Hello"

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

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

"Heard anything from Mary?" Jules asked.

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

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

"What do you mean?" I asked

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

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

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

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

"OK, good luck, bye"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I turned in the direction of the sound.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nursing Room
WOMEN ONLY!

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

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

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

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

Am on way to Man, be there 3 hrs

I pressed send and put my phone away.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Need to pee pee NOW!"

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

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

The Mother turned to me and smiled her gratitude.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Is it your first?" Vivian asked.

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

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

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

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

Vivian seemed to home in on my uncertainty.

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

"Umm, no" I responded after a pause.

"Oh, I'm sorry to be nosey"

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

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

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

"Thanks," I responded, " bye"

Outside the room I breathed a huge sigh of relief.

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

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

I knocked the door and waited in trepidation.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Oh I see"

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

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

"She is staying here isn't she?"

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

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

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

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

---

To Be Continued...
 
End of Part Six

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

---

Part 7

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What results?" I asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"How long?" I asked, quietly.

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

"How long will Mary survive?" I asked.

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

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

"They would if she'd let them."

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

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

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

Andrea looked at the clock in the kitchen.

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

"What's that?" I asked.

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

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

"Sounds fine"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes"

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

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

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

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

"Why?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

To Be Continued...
 
End of Part Seven

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

---

Part 8

 

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

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

There was no sign of my suitcase.

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

Where was my suitcase?

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

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

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

Sleep came within seconds.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"No," he replied.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Andrea suddenly sat down on an armchair.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"How is she?" I asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

To Be Continued...
 
End of Part Eight

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

---

Part 9

 

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

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

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

It was all in vain. She had rejected me.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A warm smile touched his mouth, briefly.

"Why are they embarrassing?" I asked intrigued.

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

I looked at the letters.

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

My attractive companion hesitated.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"AIDS and cancer, " I said tersely.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jonathan nodded in reply.

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

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

"I might be able to," Jonathan said.

I turned back towards him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

My assessment of Jonathan was suddenly turned on its head.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What is it?" I asked.

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

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

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

"There was no other choice," I commented.

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

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

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

I took out my mobile and answered it.

"Hello," I said.

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

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

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

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

"How are you?" I asked.

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

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

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

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

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

"What?"

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

"Thank you, that is great news"

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

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

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

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

"What is that?" I asked.

"You could let me take you out to dinner"

---

To Be Continued...
 
End of Part Nine

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

---

Part 10

 

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

There was the slightest click as the phone was answered.

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

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

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

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

"And Mary agreed with this?" she asked.

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

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

"Listen to this," I responded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What's that?" I asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Something to drink?" she suggested.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I averted my gaze from his.

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

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

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

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

I smiled back.

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

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

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

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

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

"What's that Stephanie?" he asked.

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

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

"So what changed things then?" I asked.

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

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

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

"How can you do that?" I asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I'd better go now," I said

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

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

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

"I already know," Jonathan said, smiling.

I stood and stared at him in utter disbelief.

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

---

To Be Continued...
 
End of Part Ten

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

---

Part 11
 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You know something, Steve?"

"What's that?" I asked.

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

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

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

"What," Mary asked, looking

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

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

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

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

We both laughed.

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

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

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

I smiled at her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I replied.

"In café in 5 mins?"

"kk"

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

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

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

"Thanks," I responded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"How did you find out?" I asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What is it?" I asked.

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

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

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

I stood astonished at the fantastically hopeful information.

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

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

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

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

"What?" I responded.

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

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

"And anyway...." I continued.

"What?" Mary asked

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

---

The End

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

---

Chapter 1

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

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

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

"Want a cuppa?" asked Mary.

"Is the shop open yet?" I asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mary knelt forward to kiss first Bekka and then me.

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

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

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

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

"You too, ma cherie," I whispered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What feelings Mary?" I asked.

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

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

We walked without talking for a few minutes.

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

"Why?" I asked.

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

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

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

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

"What do you mean?" she asked.

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

Mary smiled in response to my merriment.

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

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

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

"What way?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"It is a couple of months," I responded defensively.

"Oh, yes, your hair is longer and I reckon you have grown somewhere else," she said smiling and discretely giving my right breast a light squeeze.

I blushed a little with the unexpected intimacy and moved away toward my workstation.

"So what's the goss?" I asked trying to divert her attention from my physical appearance.

I sat down behind my desk being grateful for the barrier while Jules filled me in with some of the office news.

Soon our conversation was interrupted by the needs of the job and I plunged into my usual long list of phone calls, emails and faxes to agents, hoteliers and suppliers. The time flew by as I battled to solve the usual weekend collection of holiday problems. Once again I was surprised by the number of times I was considered to be female on the phone, especially by people I had not spoken to before. This response seemed to be more frequent since I had gone to Manchester.

I was interrupted briefly by Jules bringing me a coffee and arranging our usual lunchtime visit to O'Learys, where we would meet Kathleen, who was on a language course nearby.

I felt something vibrating madly in an inside pocket of my jacket. I retrieved the pager that I had forgotten about while trying to get on top of my work. I glanced at the message.

"Bekka needs a feed"

I saved the European holiday itinerary that I had been working on and made my way quickly to the nursery to feed my beautiful daughter.

Janis, as usual, was busy trying to comfort Bekka while feeding some sunshine orange breakfast to an older child. I changed her quickly and then sat down to give my own sunshine her breakfast, which fortunately wasn't orange.

As she suckled contentedly I untied my ponytail which was beginning to give me a bit of a headache. It was a relief to have my hair free, even if it was irritating to have to keep brushing it away from my face, whenever I looked down at Bekka to check her progress. Soon it was time to swap breasts after she temporarily exhausted the milk supply in the first one.

"You don't look much like a Steve, you know, with your hair like that and feeding Bekka," said Janis.

I looked up to see her standing in the doorway of the little room I was using to breastfeed.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

She came in and sat down in the chair next to me and sipped on her coffee before answering.

"Why don't you tell me what's really going on, I didn't have much time to talk to you before you went away to Manchester," she said.

"Janis, I'm not sure I understand what you're getting at," I responded, feeling a bit puzzled by the question.

"Steve, I'm not naive and I watch the day time talk shows, you know," she explained," it's obvious to me that there is more to this situation and the breastfeeding"

"Really Janis, that's all it is, there's nothing else."

"Well what's with the hair then? Steve are you having a sex change?" she blurted out.

I looked at her in amazement.

"No, of course not, what sort of question is that?" I asked.

"Looking at you now, a sensible one I would have thought," she replied.

The empty feeding bottle flew into the room, heading for Janis. At the last minute I reached up and caught it in my left hand before it could hit her in the back of the head. I held it out to her.

"I think one of your customers wants some more attention," I said, smiling, as she took the bottle and frowned.

"Thanks, yes, he is a real bundle of fun, that one, I'd have ten children like your Bekka rather than one of him, anytime," she said before rushing off to give little Lionel more excessive attention.

I kissed my precious child and then returned her to her cot, after she had finished her feed and fallen asleep. I looked at the time and realised that it was time to meet Jules and Kathleen. I made my way to the pub, getting another strange look from John when I left the building.

I saw a familiar face walking toward me.

"Hi Kathleen, aren't five languages enough?" I asked our star linguist.

She stopped and looked at me.

"Steve?" she asked, uncertainly.

"Of course, who else?" I replied.

"Sorry, it's just that you look, sort of, a lot different, really, and why are you wearing that jacket, it's much to hot," she said, referring to the mid-day summer heat that was quickly feeling oppressive after the air-conditioned office.

"Hi Kathleen, Steve, what good timing, come on let's get over and grab a table," said Jules, who had come up behind us.

"It's a bit of a scorcher today, how do you like it Kathleen?" asked Jules as we made our way to O'Learys.

"I love this weather, but I don't think Steve does, I would be boiling in a jacket like that," she replied.

"Yes, Steve, why don't you take it off," Jules asked.

"You know why, Jules," I said.

"Yes, I suppose you have a point," she agreed," but it is hot and it might be the same in O'Leary's.

"Listen why don't you take your jacket off, leave your hair down and keep your shirt unbuttoned," Jules suggested after a few seconds.

"Why?" I asked.

"It will hint at what is under there and people, well men, will look less at your clothes and face while they're trying to work you what you've got," she replied.

"What do you mean, what he's got, Jules?" asked Kathleen.

"Steve, tell her, she'll have to know at some point," Jules said.

"She means my breasts," I said, taking off my jacket and unbuttoning the top part of my shirt.

Kathleen looked at me transfixed, and then shook her head in disbelief at what she was looking at.

"You've got boobs!" she said.

"Well done Inspector Clouseau, " said Jules, laughing.

"But, how, are you a woman who wants to be a man?" she asked, obviously completely flummoxed.

I considered the irony of having been questioned about being a transwoman and then a transman within thirty minutes.

"No, I'm 100% male," I replied," but have had to breast feed my baby and, it's a long story, I'll give you a précis over lunch"

"Throw your shoulders back to emphasise your assets a bit, be proud of your figure," said Jules.

I did as requested and borrowed some lipstick to add to the illusion.

We reached our destination and were about to enter with behind another group of office workers when I had an important thought. I touched both of their arms to stop them.

"Listen," I whispered," you can't call me Steve in the pub."

"Oh, yes, you're right, what can we call you instead?" asked Kathleen.

"What about Elizabeth, I've always liked that name," suggested Jules.

"Fiona," offered Kathleen," that's a nice name for an office worker."

"Stephanie," I said.

"What about Stephanie?" Kathleen asked.

"You can call me Stephanie, I'll explain inside, come on, before all the tables have gone,” I responded.

We found one of the last tables and occupied three of the four seats. I gave Kathleen a very short summary of how I had go to where I was while we considered what to order. They went off to order while I applied a little of the makeup bag that Jules had given me.

"Excuse me," asked a pleasant voice," is this seat taken?"

I looked up to see a well dressed man in his late twenties, looking at me with a slight smile on his lips.

"No, just the two on the other side," I replied.

"Yes, I guessed they might be from the handbags on the table, do you mind if I sit here?" he asked indicating the seat next to me on the table.

"Not at all," I replied," be my guest"

"I'm Eifion," he said as he sat down with his pint of beer.

"Stephanie," I responded, " you name is unusual, where are you from?"

"It's Welsh, I'm from Nefyn," he replied.

"Nevin, that sounds familiar somehow, where is it?" I asked.

"It's in North Wales, it's where the singer Duffy comes from," he replied.

We chatted about the popular artist's music and her origins, Eifion had gone to the same schools although he was a little older, and knew a number of people who knew her. Soon the conversation had moved onto the work that we did. I was enjoying the conversation so much that I didn't notice Kathleen and Jules returning until Jules put my drink and my chickpea wrap on the table in front of me. I made introductions and noticed Jules giving me a funny look.

"I leave you for ten minutes and you are already flirting with a handsome man, are you sure there's not something you want to tell me?" whispered Jules in my ear, after Eifion had gone to fetch another drink.

"The answer is in the stars, Jules" I said as mysteriously as I could.

Before she could think of a response Eifion had returned and we had resumed our interaction. By this time the pub was so busy and so noisy that it was only possible to talk to the person sitting nearby so I didn't feel that I was excluding Kathleen or Jules.

Jules tapped me on the shoulder.

"Time to go Stephanie, work calls," she said, emphasising my female name.

"Bye Eifion, it was nice meeting you," I said, standing up and smiling at my lunchtime companion

"It was nice meeting you too Stephanie, do you fancy meeting for a drink sometime?", he asked.

At that moment I wished that the floor would open wide and swallow me up. Behind me I heard Jules and Kathleen doing their best to suppress their amusement.

After a few seconds of indecision, I smiled at Eifion, took the proffered card and promised to ring him sometime.
 
 
Chapter 3
 
 
"That was wonderful," said Mary, huskily," I love you Steve"

I pulled my beloved wife closer, with my arm around her back, her head resting on my shoulder.

"I love you too Mary," I responded quietly.

We lay there for a while as we basked in our post-coital feelings of well being. As I softly caressed her back, Mary’s eyes slowly closed and within less than a minute her regular soft breathing indicated that she was asleep.

I carefully disentangled myself and then went to the bathroom to remove the sports bra and tight T shirt that were completely soaked with the milk that had leaked from my breasts during our lovemaking. Mary had insisted on me wearing these clothes as she had said she would find the feel of our breasts pressing together to be too foreign and strange to deal with.

As I stood in the shower, washing the residues of my own milk from my body I relived our first moments of intimacy for many months. The hormones had been doing their work too well and I had not been able to sustain an erection for many minutes but with the addition of my fingers and tongue I had succeeded in bringing Mary to a squealing, eager climax. I was pleased to be able to give her so much pleasure but disappointed in my inability to share the experience.

The jet of warm water on my breasts was caressing. My fingers lingered on my nipples and soon I was touching and squeezing myself to increase my excitement. I closed my eyes to focus on the pleasure I was getting from my arousal. An image coalesced in my mind. I could almost feel the touch of the object of my fantasy on my skin, lips pressing against mine, I strained to imagine Mary. The face of someone else appeared, Jonathan!

In shock I turned the temperature dial on the shower. The blast of cold water on my breasts was shocking and painful, to say the least, but effective in removing my strange, unwanted vision.

I quickly dried and put on a clean nursing bra and my pyjamas, which were a bit small in the bust department. I was forced to only button up a part of the pyjama top. I made my way back to the warm bed and snuggled next to my partner.

I slept very well, only being vaguely aware of Mary getting out of bed in the middle of the night to feed our baby from the bottle of milk I had expressed earlier.

I woke up with two pleasant sensations. The warmth of the sunlight, diffusing through the thin curtains on the bedroom window, on my face and the pleasure of a hand, inside my pyjamas, gently caressing my breast.

"Mmmmm, nice," murmured Mary.

I looked down at my sweet lover, her eyes closed. I wondered what sort of dream she was having and whom the object of her caresses was. To avoid waking her, and possibly causing her embarrassment about her unconscious fondling of me, I slowly moved her hand away and eased myself out of the bed.

Just over an hour later, having fed Bekka, washed, dressed, and had breakfast, I lent over Mary and kissed her gently on the forehead.

"Have a good day, my love," I whispered.

She half opened an eye.

"You too, Steve," she said, sleepily.

The morning traffic through North London was it's usual stop-start, dance of frustration. I was glad of the air conditioning in the car as another warm, summer day quickly developed.

"Morning Mr Jones, " said John cheerfully as I walked into the foyer.

"Morning John, lovely day again," I remarked.

"Yes, it promises to be a scorcher," he commented.

I was aware that he was still looking at me in a strange way as if to try and work out what was different about me. Although I felt more confident in my male persona with the new, larger office clothes, I was fairly sure that he had noticed me coming back from the pub, two days before with makeup on, despite Jules and Kathleen trying to distract him as I walked in.

"John," I said turning to look at the grey haired security guard, " I'm sure you've realised that there is something different about me since I came back to work"

"I had noticed Mr Jones," he responded, smiling," but whatever it is I'm sure you have a good reason for it"

"Yes, you're right," I said, " when I have some time one morning, if the traffic ever lets me arrive early, I'll tell you more"

The arrival of the lift brought our conversation to an end. I rushed to the nursery and made it to my desk just in time to answer my first phone call of the morning. The next two hours was the usual hectic mixture. Eventually the pace of phone calls, emails and faxes eased a bit and I was able to relax with a coffee. Jules had also reached a little lull in her work for the morning and came over for a chat.

"Are you excited?" she asked.

"A little bit, but I wonder what sort of person Mrs Forbes is going to be?" I pondered, thinking about the first appointment with someone who wanted a personalised, and very expensive, travel itinerary planned.

"Rich," said Jules, chuckling.

"That goes without saying, but there's different ways people handle unexpected wealth," I responded," it quite often seems to bring out the worst in someone's personality"

"When is she coming?" Jules asked.

"Damn, only thirty minutes, I'd better finish off her schedule, I'll see you in O'Learys," I said before turning back to my computer to put the finishing touches to the holiday of a lifetime that Mrs Forbes had requested.

An hour later the first client for Adventure Travel personalised travel service was glancing through the final printout of her plan for six months of world travel and accommodation in the best hotels.

"I am so looking forward to this," said the plump woman in her late fifties, " and my sister is really looking forward to coming with me, it's a shame that my husband isn't here, well it's his loss "

Mrs Forbes had already told me the sad tale of how her husband, dazzled by the six million she had won on the National Lottery, had gone on a spending spree and then run off with a younger woman from behind the bread counter in Asda, blowing half of her winnings in three months, before she could transfer them out of the joint account.

"Yes, it is indeed, Mrs Forbes," I replied diplomatically.

"So, what did you say it all came to," she asked.

"Three hundred and twenty three thousand pounds," I replied, thinking of my five percent commission, "but we only need a ten percent deposit"

"How much is that then?" my nouveau riche client asked, taking out her cheque book, " I was never much good at Maths in school"

"It's at the bottom, Mrs Forbes, thirty two thousand and three hundred," I replied, pointing to the figure on the full colour brochure I had produced for my client. I was really please with how the document had come out, with the pictures of all the destinations linked to the relevant travel details.

The vibrating noise from my jacket, on the back of my chair, distracted both of us.

"What's that?" Mrs Forbes asked.

"Oh, it's a message from the nursery, I have to go and feed my daughter, one moment I'll get my colleague to complete this transaction," I said as leaned back in my chair, turned my head and gestured for Jules to come over from where she was standing by the photocopier.

I turned back towards my client to introduce Jules to her. She was staring at me with her mouth wide open and a mixture of disgust and surprise evident in the expression on her face. I followed the direction of her stare to where my shirt was clinging to my slightly damp nursing bra, clearly displaying the shape of my breasts.

"You're not a man!" Mrs Forbes said accusingly.

"Well I am, but it's complicated," I said trying to explain, but without the time to do it properly as I took my jacket and prepared to answer the call from the nursery.

"I don't want to know," she said rising from her chair," but whatever it is, I don't want to have my holiday arranged by someone not normal"

"Please, Mrs Forbes, my colleague will explain," I said as I left the office, while Jules tried to mollify her.

I raced up to the nursery. Janis was holding Bekka and trying to pacify her while she waited for her feed.

I took my precious daughter and sat down to relax while she suckled. I hoped that Jules would be able to persuade our potential client to stay with us after all the hard work I had put in arranging her travel plans.

"Do you remember our conversation on Monday?" asked Janis as she walked in with a child to bottle feed.

"I think so," I replied.

"I did notice the make up, you know, when you came to feed Bekka in the afternoon," she stated, " are you going to tell me what's going on?"

"Listen Janis, Monday was just an accident, there is nothing going on apart from what I have already told you. I am a man and I have no desire to be a woman," I responded bluntly.

"It's hard to believe, when I see you breast feeding, that you're not going to stay like this," Janis commented.

"It's like this Janis," I said, beginning to feel annoyed at how things were going this morning," when I stop having to feed Bekka, when we can move her onto solids, my milk will dry up I'll be able to stop taking hormones. My doctor said that my breasts will shrink and after maybe a year, when this reduction has stabilised he has said I can have any surplus tissue that's left in my breasts, surgically removed"

I put emphasis on the word surgically and noticed Janis wincing a little.

"Now, tell me what person wanting to change sex from male to female would talk happily about having a mastectomy?" I asked a little triumphantly.

"Oh," she responded, clearly surprised at my certainty, "I didn't realise that you felt that way"

"I'm only doing this for my daughter, but all this looking like a woman has been a nightmare, it has led to so many complications," I explained further.

There was silence between us until it was time for me to leave and join Jules and Kathleen for lunch.

"I managed to persuade her, in the end," Jules was explaining, as we ate our lunches," it was lucky that her daughter had just given birth to Mrs Forbes's first grandchild so she was feeling very positive about babies. So I got her to write the cheque and sign the agreements"

"That's great," I responded," well done Jules, I worked hard for that signature. I'll have to cut you in on the commission"

"You're too generous," Jules responded," however there is one problem...well for you at least"

"What's that?" I asked.

"Susan turned up as I was explaining your situation to Mrs Forbes and she asked me afterwards what happened," Jules replied.

"What did she say," I asked.

"She was quite annoyed about almost losing our first client, she said that it mustn't happen again," said Jules.

"So how can we avoid that?" I asked, feeling confused.

"Sorry to have to tell you this, and she said that she would discuss it with you later, but basically you have two choices," explained Jules, before pausing.

"What are they?" I asked, a little fearful.

"You will either have to get the nursery to feed Bekka or..........you will have to come to work dressed as a woman!"
 
 
Chapter 4
 
 
"Good Morning Miss Jones," said John as I walked into work on a warm Monday morning.

"Good morning, John," I said, smiling as I stopped by the reception desk," thanks for remembering"

"I have your new pass," he said, handing me my new photo-ID, before smiling back and whispering," it's OK Miss Jones, I understand your reasons and you could hardly be a Mr Jones, dressed like that. I think what you are doing is very noble"

"Thanks, I appreciate the support, this is hard enough to do just coming here wearing these clothes," I responded, indicating my blouse, skirt, and two inch heels," I just hope everyone else will be just as understanding"

I clipped the piece of plastic on my breast pocket, thinking how strange it was not to have it on my tie, and carried Bekka over to the lift.

The doors of the lift were closing when a tall, very smartly dressed man in his early thirties squeezed into the lift.

"That was close," I said, smiling.

"Yes," he responded, smiling back," with luck I'll make my appointment in time."

"Which floor do you want?" I asked after pressing the number three for the nursery and noticing his visitor's pass.

"I'm not sure, I'm here to take over from Susan Williams, what floor is she on, do you know?" he asked.

I was taken aback by the news that that something had happened to Susan, my line manager.

"Um, her office is on floor three, the same as the nursery, has something happened to her, she didn't say anything on Friday?" I asked, a bit worried by the possible implications of the Susan's absence.

"I'm not completely sure, I had a phone call on Saturday from Sir John's secretary to say that Susan would be away for a couple of months and asking me to jump in to take charge. I'm William Tumbril, by the way," my new boss said extending a hand.

I reciprocated the gesture, the greeting lasted a little longer than I had expected and I was relieved when William did eventually release my hand.

"Nice to meet you, Stephanie," he said reading my name-tag while lingering on my breasts.

The lift came to a stop and we walked along the corridor together while William described, in excessive detail, the sort of work he was usually responsible for in the Birmingham office of Adventure Travels. The entrance to the nursery couldn't have come sooner as I escaped from the tedious talk, although he did extract a promise for me to call into his office later in the morning to discuss my work.

"Hello Janis," I said, cheerfully to the nursery nurse, when I reached the reception desk.

"Morning Ste.....," she said looking up and then her mouth stopped working as she stared at me.

"Something wrong?" I asked innocently.

"Sorry, Steve, oh sorry I see it's Stephanie now, I'm just a bit surprised to see you like that," she replied," especially after you denied everything last week."

"It's a complicated story, I'll explain later," I said," sorry I've got to go and catch up with the weekend backlog and then go and see Mr Charmless later"

"Who's that," asked, Janis as she took Bekka off me and placed her in a cot.

"Some guy down from Birmingham taking over from Susan for a while, did you know anything about that?" I asked.

"No, but then again no-one tells me much about how the company runs, I am only the nursery nurse," she said, sighing.

I left the nursery and, as quickly as possible in two inch heels and a tight skirt, made my way to my office. As usual the phone rang as I sat down at my desk and the computer showed the usual mixed bag of emails.

"No luck on the weekend then?" asked Jules as we drank our coffees almost two hours later after the pace of work had slowed down temporarily.

"I tried so hard to express enough milk, in the end Mary had to turn the machine off cos my boobs were hurting too much, my nipples are still sore today," I said as I gently touched my engorged breasts," I don't understand, I've got enough milk”

"Maybe you were too tense about it, but you could have dropped the personalised travel service for a couple of months, Kathleen or me could have covered that," Jules suggested.

"I don't understand it really, I'm so pissed off about the whole situation. So I had no choice but to wear this outfit today," I said, thinking about the ultimatum that Susan had given me," I need the commission, Jules"

"Why is that Steve? Sorry Stephanie, I'd better get used to calling you that, in case I make a slip up when a client is here," she commented.

"Simple really, Jules, our income is down 'cos Mary is only part-time at the moment and our payments are about to go up next month. Our two year mortgage fix finishes then, and we already have big arrears from when she was ill and off work" I explained.

"That is tough, can't you sell and get somewhere cheaper?" she asked.

"Nope, negative equity*, like everyone else in our street who bought in the last two years," I said.

The phone rang to end our conversation, the buzzing sound indicated an internal company call.

"Hello," I said, wondering who could be phoning internally, a rare occurrence.

"Hello again, Stephanie, nice to hear your voice again," oozed my new line manager.

"OK," I gulped, " what can I do for you?"

"Um, now that's an interesting question, maybe we can talk about that at some other time," he responded, creepily," but in the meantime I'd like you to come up and have a chat with me to explain how your side of the business runs"

"OK, when do you want to see me?" I asked, feeling uneasy about something.

"How about now, Stephanie, yes please hurry along to my office, I'll keep a seat warm for you," sleezeyman said before disconnecting.

I held the phone in my hand and made a rude sign to it.

"What's up Stephanie?" Jules asked.

"I feel like puking, Jules," I said," I have to go and see our new line manager and I'm not looking forward to it"

"New line manager!" she exclaimed," what's happened to Susan?"

I explained what I had been told by our new boss in the lift and then made my way to my meeting.

"Hello Stephanie, thank you for coming so promptly," Tumbril said as I opened the door to his office," come and join me on this sofa, I do find formal meetings sitting on opposite sides of a desk to be so tiresome"

I sat down on as far as possible away from him on the leather sofa. My attempt to preserve some personal space was thwarted as he moved over towards me a spread a large sheet of paper, with a network chart on it, out on the low table in front of us.

"I'd like you to help me fill this in so I have an idea of what people do and how they are interconnected." he said as he pressed his leg against mine.

"Of course, ask me anything you need to know," I responded.

Over the next quarter of an hour Tumbril asked me questions about Jules, Kathleen and me, although mainly about me, and filled in the chart with the information. At the same time he was obviously using the opportunity to touch me as much as possible. Every question was accentuated with a touch on my leg or shoulder and a few times he pressed his arm into my breasts as he leaned over to write something on the chart. I was at a loss to know how to deal with the harassment.

At last relief came with the sound of my pager to go and feed Bekka. I was grateful for the excuse to escape the unwanted physical contact, although once Janis launched into her questions about my suppression of my supposed transsexual gender identity the words 'frying pan', 'fire' and 'escape' came to mind.

Finally Janis was busy with the rest of her charges and I was alone for a while with my precious daughter. As she took her nourishment from me I once again concluded that anything was worthwhile doing to ensure her well-being.

"Thank, Miss Jones, we are really looking forward to these adventures," said Mr Parrish as he and his wife too his leave of me, later on in the afternoon, after we had agreed the final itinerary of their two hundred thousand pound round the world trip.

"It's been my pleasure to help you Mr and Mrs Parrish," I responded, smiling, having enjoyed working for the retired couple and also thinking of how the five percent commission would make a substantial dent in the debt Mary and I had with the bank.

I sat down, feeling tired after having worked through my lunch hour to complete the Parrish's holiday plans before it had been time to meet them. I had also had to work faster in the morning to solve all the weekend's problems, to ensure there were no interruptions during the afternoon.

I looked at the office clock and noticed that it was almost five, I began to pack my things away.

The phone rang, an internal call again, I picked up the hand-piece, expecting to hear an unwelcome voice.

"Miss Jones, I need to see you at once," said my line manager curtly.

"Yes, of course, Mr Tumbril, I'll be right there, is there something wrong," I asked, surprised at his tone of voice.

"I'd prefer to discuss this in person," he replied, before breaking the connection.

Ten minutes later I was sitting opposite him on the other side of his desk.

"I imagine this work is important to you?" he enquired," since you have gone to great lengths to keep your position"

"Yes, of course, it is important and I think I am effective in what I do," I replied, wondering where the conversation was going.

He paused and shuffled some papers on his desk.

"Earlier on Stephanie, I needed some more information about you to complete my network chart, so I checked personal records," he said.

I felt a churning in my stomach.

"You realise that your little arrangement with Susan is completely undocumented. Nowhere is there any legal or medical paperwork saying that you are a transsexual and are legally entitled to present as a woman," Tumbril continued.

"Yes but.." I began to try and explain.

He held up his hand to stop me.

"At present I have a situation where a male member of staff in Adventure Travel is coming to work wearing female clothes, no doubt using female toilet facilities and has somehow acquired a female company identification," he said,"
so what have we here, deception for the clothes, sexual harassment for using the wrong gender loo and the most serious, fraud in acquiring the false ID."

A felt a sinking feeling inside, as I feared where this conversation was going.

"The way I see it, Stephanie is that either I suspend you from work and maybe even call the police or....," he paused to stare at my face, before moving his hands off the desk.

I heard the noise of a zip being moved.

"You give me a blow-job"
 
 
Chapter 5
 
 
"I love sucking dick, William," I said as huskily as possible," why don't you show me what you've got"

My sleazy line manager, was initially nonplussed by my quick acquiescence to his ultimatum and then a vicious smirk filled his face.

"I knew you would see it my way, Stephanie," he said, " come and kneel here, little William is waiting for your mouth. Blouse and bra off too so I can grab a feel at the same time"

I unbuttoned my blouse halfway down with my left hand and slowly, as sexily as possible walked round the desk towards my predatory boss. I slid my right hand, surreptitiously, into my small shoulder bag.

I stood in front of Tumbril as he slowly massaged his penis. I unbuttoned my blouse a little more and moved it a little down off my shoulder, partially exposing my bra. I moved my left hand across my breasts, gently squeezing them.

"You are well endowed, William, so bigggggg, I'm looking forward to this," I said as erotically as I could.

By now his focus was completely on my boobs as I played with them to arouse him further.

"Nice, tits, bitch," he grunted.

I moved my right hand with my camera phone up to eye level, above what he was looking at, and starting taking pictures of my pathetic blackmailer.

"Smile for the camera," I said after I had taken more than twenty photos.

He looked up startled at my comment and I managed another ten shots before he realised his predicament and put his appendage away.

"What the fuck!" he exclaimed, as his brain sought to dampen his arousal and comprehend the changed reality.

"Not that either, you miserable worm," I said venomously, stepping away a safe distance," did you think I was going to give in to your nauseating needs, is this how you get your rocks off?"

He opened his mouth to talk but before he could utter anything I continued my attack.

"Unfortunately for your sick plan, you were wrong in all your assumptions," I yelled," firstly I am not a transsexual, I don't want to be a woman, I'm doing all of this for my daughter and my wife and soon enough I'll be rid of what you wanted to feel"

I paused for breath and to let the implications of my first statement sink in.

"Secondly I have a letter from Susan giving me express permission to dress this way, have a female ID and use the disabled toilets," I lied, knowing there was no way he could check.

"Thirdly," I said, in a more measured tone, as Tumbril's face crumbled with the realisation of his complete failure," what do you think will happen if you suspend me? Let me tell you. In three days, maximum, the whole European Adventure Travel programme will begin to fall apart. Most of the hoteliers and agents only trust me and will not give credit deals to anyone else. It'll be payment in advance for whoever takes my place. Of course the new very profitable, programme of bespoke holidays for the wealthy will stop immediately."

I could see that I had him, metaphorically, by the short and curlies.

"So you loathsome lothario, you'd better come up with the substantial pay increase that's going to stop me resigning tomorrow and taking my client base and contacts to one of our competitors, maybe even European Experiences," I said, referring to Adventure Travel's most fierce rival.

I turned and began to walk out of the office.

"Stephanie, wait, I'm sorry," pleaded the useless sexual exploiter.

"Oh yes, one last thing," I said , stopping and turning to face Tumbril, as an apparent afterthought, " I have already emailed all the pictures to a friend in Russia, aren't these 3G phones wonderful? So I wouldn't try anything nasty or you might find your profile picture on the company website has been mysteriously updated"

I strode out of the office to fetch Bekka and escape the building.

I just managed to strap my precious daughter in her car seat before I had to turn away and retch violently on the floor of the car park. I took out a tissue and cleaned myself as much as possible, before I got in the car and sped away. Even though I was still feeling nauseous I was desperate to get away from Adventure Travel, before the miserable molester appeared in the foyer.

Somehow or other I negotiated the journey back to my family refuge without any further mishap, even though on a number of occasions I felt a violent shiver through my body as I went over the events of the previous hour. The thought of how close I had come to being forced into an act of utter servility to Tumbril was beginning to fill me with a sense of my own worthlessness.

The bravado I had shown, in turning his threats back on him, had dissipated and I was being to have many doubts about the wisdom of my actions. Even though I knew as Steve I could easily get another job, I wasn't at all confident that as Stephanie or even as breast feeding Steve I would be so successful.

Almost three quarters of an hour later I pulled up outside my house. I put my head on the wheel, feeling utterly exhausted.

I heard a gentle tap on the car window. I looked up to see Mary, looking anxiously at me.

"Are you OK?" she asked, after I had wound the window down," I heard the car parking but you've been sat here for ten minutes. What's happened?"

"Sorry, Mary, had a bit of a nightmare day," I replied.

She leaned and kissed me gently.

"Don't worry darling, you're home now," she said.

"I'm so glad to be here, now, I didn't think I'd make it" I responded.

"Have you been sick?" Mary asked, noticing a few spots on my blouse.

"Yes," I responded, feeling subdued.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Steve, don't worry it shouldn't stain that colour. You go on in and shower and I'll bring in Bekka and your stuff," Mary directed.

The feel of the jets of warm water on my body was so relaxing, as I stood in the shower ten minutes later. I rubbed some shampoo into my hair to wash the city grime out. As the lather slid down into the shower tray it felt like I was washing some of the horrible experiences in Tumbril's office away at the same time.

I felt a soft hand on my back.

"Do you want someone to scrub your back?" asked my lover.

"Yes please," I said turning and smiling at Mary who was standing, naked, in the bathroom. I took her hand and gently pulled her into my embrace. She kissed me urgently and started caressing me. I soon returned the favour.

There is something uniquely sensuous about showering with someone, especially if you love that person. Soon the steam on the curtain was not just coming from the hot water.

Mary pushed me back and down a little as she prepared to mount me.

"Do you want me to go and get the sports bra and T-shirt on," I whispered as I moved my hand slowly over her neck and shoulders.

"No, I can think I can deal with your boobs this once, let's not lose this moment, before Bekka wakes up," she replied before taking my penis, slipping a condom on and lowering herself onto me. Her taking the lead was the arrangement we had discovered, the previous week, to be the best for me to maintain an erection.

An hour later, our passions sated, we sat down in the lounge after a sumptuous meal of Aloo Gobi, Basmati Rice, Paratha and a glass of Chardonnay.

I looked down at Bekka, taking her evening nourishment.

"You know something, Mary," I said, after I had related the events of the way to her,

"What's that my love?" she asked, quietly.

"I just want this having to pretend to be a woman to stop, it just creates so many problems," I replied.

"Oh dear I'm sorry, it may not be that simple," Mary said, a little sadly.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Well you know I went to the hospital for my monthly appointment, today," she explained.

"Yes, I remember, now, sorry I didn't ask earlier. How was the check up, did you get the results?" I asked.

"Everything's fine," Mary responded, " the blood tests showed that the HIV viral load is very low and the cancer is still in remission, but there is a problem"

"A problem?" I asked, fearing something new to threaten our futures.

"They said that they were so surprised that they did the test twice," she responded.

"What was the test?" I asked.

"They were checking my hormone levels," Mary replied.

"What does that mean, what's the matter, are you OK, you're not feeling ill again?" I asked, anxiously.

"No. I'm not ill, but it's going to be a big problem, I'm so sorry Steve, I'm pregnant." said Mary.
 
 
Chapter 6
 
 
My sound of heels on the marble floor echoed around the foyer of Adventure Travel as I walked in carrying Bekka in her car chair.

Two heads turned towards me, as I walked towards the reception in my still unfamiliar female work outfit. I smiled at John, the security guard/receptionist sitting behind the counter. I turned to greet the other person in the foyer and froze in my tracks.

There, standing by the lift was Mr Tumbril, the molesting manager from the previous day. He gave me the vilest of stares before stepping into his lift. I felt myself shaking with a mixture of apprehension, fear and tiredness. I considered whether I should go home.

"Something wrong, Miss Jones?" asked John.

"Sorry, John, what did you say?" I asked, lost in my reverie.

"I asked if you felt alright, you've been lost to the world for the last half a minute or so," he said.

"I'm sorry, John, I'm very tired, I slept very badly last night and yesterday I had an unfortunate encounter with my new line manager." I explained. I had indeed slept little after Mary's revelation. I had lain awake for hours reliving the incident with Tumbril and bemoaning how one slightly split condom could have turned our lives upside down again.

"That Tumbril seems a bad sort in my opinion, Miss Jones," said John," it's so sad that Mrs Williams had to fly to Australia after her daughter had that accident on the weekend"

I digested the new information about my previous line manager and then after bidding a good day to John, I made my way to drop my daughter off for the day.

"Morning Stephanie," said Janis, smiling at me, as I entered the nursery.

"Hello Janis," I said, in a subdued tone, while handing over Bekka.

"Something wrong?" she asked, as she placed Bekka in the play pen and finished her coffee.

"Had a bad night and a worse day yesterday," I replied.

"Oh, I'm sorry" Janis said," anything you can tell me?"

"It's just that Mary's pregnant and I don't know how we will manage," I replied," and another thing, a word of warning Janis"

"What's that?" she asked.

"Don't ever be in a room with Tumbril, you know my new line manager, on your own," I advised.

"Why?" Janis asked.

"Just say that he is a predator, so don't risk it, sorry can't tell you more, got to rush to the office," I replied.

Janis gave me a strange look and then returned to busying herself with her morning schedule as I made my way to my office.

As usual the phone was ringing as I reached my desk barely seconds after the official start time for the beginning of the working day. I picked up the handset and was immediately placed on the defensive by an angry French hotelier complaining about the late arrival of the previous day's coach party causing him to have to pay extra for staff to work overtime. I was halfway through haggling the amount of the compensation cheque when I noticed the envelope on top of my keyboard addressed to 'Mr Steven Jones'. I stopped talking and Monsieur de Villepin was surprised at the sudden silence.

"ess everything ok, Steven?" he asked in heavily accented English.

"Not sure, Jean," I replied, before regaining my senses, and turning back to French to agree immediate full settlement of the claim. Monsieur de Villepin thanked me and bade me 'adieu', although he sounded a little disappointed that the argument, he had clearly been enjoying, had come to a premature end.

I picked up the envelope and, ignoring a second phone call, opened it with my paper knife.

A single sheet of plain paper fell out. I unfolded it and read it.

"You freak

Did you think I wouldn't check about the letter.

After yesterday I feel like going straight to the police. Would you like it in prison, you nonce? I bet they'd love your tranny arse.

One chance left, ladyboy. Same place at 5, bring some lube in case I want to take our relationship deeper..."

I dropped the letter and rushed to the loo to be violently sick. I cleaned myself off and then sat down on the toilet seat, feeling emotionally exhausted. It seemed like my carefully reconstructed world was rapidly falling to pieces. There seemed to no alternative so I put my head in my hands and let the tears flow.

"Are you OK, Stephanie," asked Jules, some quarter of an hour later, "I saw you rush off to the loo and wondered why you hadn't come back"

I looked up at her, she looked visibly shocked by my appearance.

"Oh, Stephanie you look terrible, what's up?" she asked sounding very concerned.

"I had a letter....it's on my desk...let me show you," I said through my sniffles as I tried to regain a semblance of self control.

Jules and Kathleen read the letter and then with obvious mounting anger listened to my account of the events of the day before.

"The bastard!" exclaimed Jules.

"I wish I had a surgical knife!" said Kathleen angrily.

"Stephanie we must go to the police," said Jules.

"But, there is no real evidence here," I said," it's his word against mine"

"I still think we should call the police, let me look up Islington Police station." said Jules.

An hour later I was sitting in the feeding room in the nursery giving Bekka her morning nourishment.

"Well, I must say that is a fascinating story, Steven, what you are doing for your daughter is remarkable" said Inspector Janet Smith, after I had finished explaining everything to her," although I doubt that we have enough evidence for a successful prosecution case against Mr Tumbril"

"I didn't think so, either, Janet, but my work colleagues insisted I contact you about this," I said, as I cuddled my daughter close to me.

"Let me take the letter away, Steven, maybe there is something on it, some prints or some DNA," she said as she stood to leave," but if there are any other incidents, particularly if there are witnesses, then please contact me asap"

Lunchtime in O'Learys was the usual hectic rush to grab some food. I related the conversation with the police inspector to Jules and Kathleen. After a few minutes of thought, Jules suddenly smiled.

"I have an idea about the witnesses," she said and proceeded to outline her plan.

"It sounds a bit risky to me," I said.

"It's a way of getting rid of him once and for all," reassured Jules," just think you'd be ridding the company of something dark and evil"

"Don't worry," said Kathleen," there's nothing that can go wrong, we'll stop anything horrible happening"

"OK," I said, determinedly," I'll do it!"

The rest of afternoon sped past as I tried not to think about the impending meeting. It was difficult to focus properly and as a result I failed for the first time to persuade the afternoon's client to accept their itinerary for their world cruise. However all was not lost as they agreed to come for another discussion.

It was just after five when I knocked on the door of my line manager.

"Well, Miss Jones, I’m glad to see that you have come to your senses," oozed Tumbril, as he opened the door to let me in.

I quickly walked past him and stood in the opposite part of the room.

"Well time is short, Stephanie so if you'd just strip off, as sexily as you can, and I'll do what I want to do," he directed.

"I don't think so," I responded, firmly," I'm not letting your filthy hands touch me. I've just come to persuade you to stop this stupidity"

"Um, I think you may have misunderstood the situation you're in, you tranny freak," said the predator with a harsh tone in his voice, " you see some of my punts on property have been a little disappointing and I am being forced to relocate tonight. In fact in four hours time I will be winging my way to Russia, where they seem to reward their risk takers rather better, especially those who like taking risks with other people's money"

"Well in that case, I think there is no need for any further discussions between us," I said, with a confidence that I didn't feel, but hopeful that Jules and Kathleen would arrive soon as witnesses and moral support.

"I hate losing, and I don't to intend to with you," he responded, before turning to the door and double locking it. He started walking towards me, menacingly.

I gulped with fear. Having to force entry through a double locked, four inch thick, solid oak door had not been a part of the plan for my rescue.
 
 
Chapter 7
 
 
I stared at Tumbril and then back at the locked door while I tried to think of a way to escape my desperate predicament.

"I don’t have time for messing round, if I have to hold you down to fuck you I’ll do it, you pervert. You can’t fight me, I’m a foot taller and must be almost twice your weight," sneered Tumbril.

I gulped at his direct threat and backed away. I had no intention of letting the brute assault me, but I was at a loss in thinking of a possible way out.

I reached in my bag for a possible weapon and felt something hard and cylindrical.

I continued retreating from him but then stopped, there would be no chance of escape if I let him force me into a corner.

“OK, OK, I can see now that my options are limited,” I said as I started unbuttoning my blouse.

My potential rapist stopped moving towards me, and a big smirk spread across his face.

“You learn fast”

“Yes, I do,” I replied, smiling sweetly at him.

“OK, my time is short, so get everything off and lean forward against the chair, I like to get a couple of handfuls when I do a whore,” Tumbril commanded, making groping movements with his hands, “ on second thoughts, you can leave your panties on, I don’t want to see your dick”

I dropped my blouse on the floor and then shimmied out of my tight skirt.

“There is a problem, though” I said.

“Yes,” my molester grunted as he took his shirt off.

“I haven’t got any lube, what about if I give you the blow-job instead?” I asked, in as breathy a voice as possible, running my hand suggestively over my bra and breasts to arouse him.

He paused for a few seconds to consider my request then resumed taking his clothes off.

“You’d better do me good, queer, otherwise, lube or no lube I’m going to stuff that tight arse of yours,” he replied maliciously, “now get that bra off and give me an eyeful of your tits”

“Get an eyeful of this instead, you bastard!” I screamed as I sprayed the deodorant, from my bag, directly into his eyes

His scream of pain at the intense stinging was heightened when I accurately kicked his testicles, as hard as I could, with the point of my shoes.

I flicked off my heels and legged it for the door. I quickly unlatched the Yale lock but the ancient bolt was very stiff. I cursed Susan’s predecessor as area manager, who had installed the four inch thick medieval door when it was discarded from a film set, as I tried to wriggle it free. My heart beat was going through the roof as I struggled to open the door.

“You bitch!” shouted Tumbril,” you’ll pay for that”

I glanced round to see that he had got to his feet and, with one hand rubbing his eyes and the other holding his groin area, was lumbering towards me.

Suddenly with one last desperate wrench I managed to pull the bolt back. I pulled the handle of the door, it opened agonisingly slowly, because of the door restrainer. In a few seconds the gap was large enough for me to try and slip through. I stepped out into the corridor.

The powerful wrench on my arm, as I was pulled back into the room by Tumbril, almost pulled it out of it's socket. I was slammed against the wall, I felt pain all over my back as I impacted. My bra was ripped off and my breasts were groped very painfully. I felt his thick fingers take an iron grip on my throat as he began to squeeze the life out of me.

"I should kill you for that!" he screamed in my face. I was quickly losing consciousness as my brain screamed for the oxygen that it was being deprived of. As everything around me began to go hazy an image of Bekka gurgling with happiness as I tickled her toes a few days previously filled my mind. I smiled at the sweet memory.

"I'll wipe that smile off your face, you nonce!" Tumbril shouted as I was flung onto the floor. I gasped for breath and was like a limp rag-doll as he knelt behind me, pushed my knees forward to raise my backside and pulled my panties down. I felt his penis probing for the entry through my anus. He reached forward to grasp my breasts as he prepared to violently thrust into me.

"Not so fast Tumbril!" shouted John as suddenly the weight of Tumbril, on top of me, disappeared.

I turned my head to see John, Jules and Kathleen wrestling Tumbril to the ground. Although he was stronger than each of them individually, he was no match for their combined efforts and soon he was face down on the carpet with my rescuers sitting on top of him.

"Don't be stupid, get off me, I was only giving your freaky friend what he wanted," shouted Tumbril.

"Keep your pathetic explanations for the police, they should be here soon enough," said Jules, angrily.

"Now, come on, it was only a bit of fun," responded Tumbril, changing his tone dramatically at the reference to the forces of law and order, " there's no need for the police to be involved, listen I'm sorry if I was a bit rough with Stephanie, I got a little carried away"

"You are a sick man and lacking in brain cells if you think we are going to let you get away with attempted rape," shouted Kathleen.

"Now then, I'm sure that we could come to some sort of arrangement, I've got a million pounds in my suitcase, what about if you take that and just let me get up and go. I promise you'll never see me again," the molesting manager pleaded.

"I don't think so, " said John," if you've got that much money you must have stolen it. You can help the police give it back to your victims"

"You don't understand what you're doing, listen if that's not enough I've got more in my bank account, you can have it all, just let me go, please," begged Tumbril, "you can't let the Italians get me"

"And what Italians would that be, Mr Tumbril or should I say Mr Johnson or even Mr Throuton," asked Inspector Janet Smith as she strode into the room, accompanied by two large male constables, " are you a little worried that the Sicilian Cosa Nostra might not be happy with the way their investments failed"

The policemen quickly restrained the thieving thug while the Inspector recited his rights.

"Mr William Tumbril, alias Mr Peter Johnson, alias Mr Hector Throuton, I am arresting you for assault, attempted rape and embezzlement," she began, " you do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something that you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence"

Tumbril said nothing and he was led away by the two police officers. In the meantime Jules had retrieved my blouse and skirt and was helping me dress.

"It's likely that there will be further charges," said Janet to us," we have a probable match of his DNA, from the gum on the envelope, with three rapes in the West Midlands. I'm sorry we couldn't get here earlier, how was it Steve?" she asked.

"It was bad, Janet, I thought he was going to kill me," I replied, quietly, "and then if Jules and the others hadn't arrived in time he would have........"

I couldn't say anything else and just sat down in a chair and began sobbing as the enormity of what might have happened began to sink in. I shivered as I suddenly felt very cold. Everything went a little blurred. The next thing I knew I had John's coat around my shoulder and was sipping a cup of hot chocolate.

I felt Jules's arm around my shoulder.

"I'm sorry you had to go through all that," she said, "but you're safe now and he's locked away where he won't be able to attack anyone else in the future"

"Yes," I said quietly.

"Come on Steve, we'd better get you home now," Jules stated.

At that Janet left, promising that she would be around to my house later to take a statement and that she would arrange a visit from a rape counsellor. We bade farewell to John after I had thanked him for his help and then Jules helped me down to my car while Kathleen fetched Bekka from the nursery, after Jules had spoken to Janis to explain the situation and I had briefly confirmed everything.

We drove home mostly in silence as I still felt too numb to want to interact and Jules eventually gave up making any small talk when I didn't respond. Kathleen followed us in her car, planning to take Jules back to Adventure Travel to fetch her car, after we had reached my house.

I walked into my domestic haven, feeling relieved to be home. I told Jules to leave my stuff in the hall, while I put Bekka in her playpen and started up one of her nursery rhyme toys. Jules then left to get a lift with Kathleen to fetch her car, promising to return as soon as possible. I was surprised by the quiet of the house and I looked around for Mary.

I noticed she was sitting at the kitchen table staring at a piece of official looking paper. She had obviously been crying. She didn’t say anything when I walked in.

“What is it?” I asked, wondering what could possibly be the matter.

She held up the piece of paper to me.

“Read it” she directed in a strange tone.

Dear Mr Jones,

In view of your failure to respond to the repeated warnings you have received, about your inappropriate dress and conduct while on the premises of Adventure Travel, I have no alternative but to terminate your contract of employment with immediate effect.

Yours faithfully,

Brian Salter
Regional Manager
Adventure Travel.
 
 
Chapter 8
 
 
"This is an unusual situation, Steve, or maybe Stephanie would be more appropriate. It's hard to see an attractive woman sitting in front of me and use a male name," said Jeffrey Withers, the deputy MD of European Experiences, after I had explained some of the background to my search for a new job.

"Yes, unusual is an apt description, maybe even unique and Stephanie is fine by me" I responded, smiling, as I sat back in the thick leather chair wearing the black, Jaeger, skirt suit, that Mary had insisted on me wearing for the interview.

"Well Stephanie all I can say is that Adventure Travel' loss could be European Experiences gain, your reputation precedes you," stated Jeffrey.

"You are too kind," I said, pleasantly surprised at the positive response I had received so far. At last it seemed that my life had taken a turn for the better.

"Yes, indeed, the number of times you have put together exciting holiday packages, for Adventure Travel, that have made whatever we have offered, in the same market, to seem second rate," he said, smiling, "I have found it galling, so I was very pleased to see you today"

It had been a difficult decision to contact the main competitor to my former company to see if they had any vacancies. The deciding factor had been the insulting final salary cheque that had arrived the day after the assault. None of the expected bonuses had been included. I had tried all that day to contact Brian Salter, the regional manager, but he had been unavailable, at least to me.

"I really like the concept of individually tailored holidays at a premium price. Can you tell me more about that?" Jeffrey asked.

I outlined some of the travel plans we had designed for wealthy individuals. The young deputy MD smiled and nodded his enthusiasm, especially at the profits that had been made so far.

"That sounds splendid, I wonder if you can bear with me while I fetch Alex to hear about this idea," said Jeffrey before he rose and went in search of his boss.

Alone in the sumptuous office, evidence of the success of European Experiences despite being smaller than my former employers, I considered the events of the last three days. I had made my statement to Inspector Smith later on in the evening of the attack and she and Jules had managed to persuade Mary that there could not be anything to the allegations of misconduct that had led to my dismissal.

Jeffrey returned with a tall, impressive looking man in his early fifties.

"Stephanie, this is Alex Price, the Managing Director of European Experiences," said Jeffrey," Alex let me introduce Stephanie Jones, who has been working on an exciting scheme at Adventure Travel"

"Delighted to meet you, Stephanie," said Alex, in an attractive, friendly voice as he extended his hand.

"I'm pleased to meet you too, Mr Price, I've heard so much about you," I responded, shaking his hand.

"Nothing bad, I hope," Alex said, with a twinkle in his eye, "now please tell me more of this programme that Jeffrey was so keen for me to hear about"

I smiled and then gave him a similar outline to the one I had already given Jeffrey. Alex listened and then asked a few probing questions about the operation and how it might work for his company. After about half an hour of intense discussion he sat back in his chair and smiled at me.

"Well, Stephanie, I like this idea a lot so the only question remaining is when can you start implementing it for European Experiences?" he asked.

"Are you offering me a job, Mr Price?" I asked a little uncertainly, being surprised at the suddenness of the offer.

"Most definitely," he replied.

"In that case I can start Monday," I said.

"That is very good news," Alex said, then he stood and shook my hand again," I'll leave you with Jeffrey to sort out the details and look forward to seeing you on Monday"

I sat back and took a deep breath.

"Are you OK?" asked Jeffrey.

"I'm fine, just taken aback with the speed of events, I thought that it would take days or even weeks to find out whether you would have a position for me" I replied.

"It looks like you made a good impression on Alex," said Jeffrey, smiling," he is always decisive about decisions like that, if he likes a person or an idea then he will trust his judgement all the way. In your case I think he liked both"

"That's good to hear," I said.

"One thing, though, I didn't tell Alex about your other gender presentation," he stated.

"Will that be a problem," I asked, a little concerned that what sounded like a dream job would fail at the first obstacle.

"No, it isn't going to be a problem, whatever way you choose to present yourself here will be acceptable. I am in charge of equality policy after all," he explained.

"That's good," I said, feeling relieved.

"However may be a difficulty in replicating the arrangement you had in Adventure Travel," Jeffrey began, " as you are aware we are quite a bit smaller and therefore everyone gets to know everyone else. You wouldn't be working in a small separate unit. So if we had a male employee breast feeding a baby, it would become common knowledge before you could say Chinese whispers"

"Yes I can see that problem," I responded, wondering where this discussion was going.

"As well as that, being in London, with thousands of journalists and paparazzi looking for the next tabloid splash, well I'm sure you can imagine the rest," Jeffrey stated.

"OK, I can see that viewpoint, but what are you actually saying?" I asked.

"Stephanie, the way I see it, there are two scenarios that avoid damaging publicity to the company," Jeffrey explained, " the first you are employed as Steve and do not breast feed your daughter or any other future children, although of course you are welcome to utilise our workplace nursery. The second option is that you are employed as Stephanie and then breast feeding or not is not an issue"

"I see," I commented, already thinking about the implications for Bekka.

"Of course, as Steve we could employ you on a significantly higher salary because of your contacts although even as Stephanie we would make you a not unattractive offer," he said.

"There is a lot to think about here, Jeffrey, there are implications for my family life that are very serious," I said, carefully.

"OK, Stephanie, why don't you go and think about these offers. Ideally I'd love you to start on Monday, but if you'd like to have a little time to discuss it with your partner, let's say a week, then that's fine with me," said Jeffrey.

I took that as a signal for the interview coming to a close but, before I left, I asked him for a rough figure of the salaries as either Steve or Stephanie. On the drive home, through the usual slowly moving London traffic, I considered the financial situation that Mary and myself were in. Without the expected bonuses from my success at Adventure Travel we would be facing increasing mortgage arrears. If I was working as Steve, we might just about manage and with luck we might be able to wean Bekka very soon.

My precious daughter smiled at me as I walked into the house, some twenty minutes later. She was sat on Mary's lap listening to my wife's singing a simple nursery rhyme in her beautiful voice.

"That's excellent timing," said Mary," I was just about to feed her, but I'm sure she’d prefer fresh rather than refrigerated"

"Yep, that's me, it's always fresh and ready with Daddy's boobs," I responded, laughing and then picked up Bekka and quickly put her to my breast. She suckled greedily.

"How did it go?" Mary asked.

"I got a job, " I replied," but.."

Mary's hoot of joy was cut off by the 'but' and she looked concerned as I explained the details of the offer.

"Oh dear, that is a problem," she said, after I had finished," what can we do?"

"I don't know, sweetie, we'll have to think about it, maybe if the union is successful things will be OK," I said referring to my trade union attempting to get a quick settlement from Adventure Travel for the unfair dismissal.

"Oh, sorry, Sheila from the Unite office phoned and ask that you contact her urgently," Mary said.

She dialled the number for me and soon I was talking to Sheila Ellis at the Unite office in London. She outlined the response from Adventure Travel. I put the phone down feeling downcast.

"What's wrong?" asked Mary, as she saw my expression after the phone call.

"She said that Adventure Travel would fight the unfair dismissal claim all the way, they say that the documentation they have is water tight." I replied.

"But surely now that Tumbril is arrested and charged they can discount all his allegations?" Mary wondered.

"Yes, but he is not convicted and anyway the company can and will use the impending trial to delay the tribunal," I responded.

"But that could be months," Mary said.

"Yes, that's what Sheila said, it could be as long as a year before there is a tribunal decision," I explained.

"What can we do, how can we manage until then?" Mary asked.

"Mary, there is only one solution," I said quietly.

"What's that?" she asked

"I'll have to take the job as Steve and....," I said.

"and what, Steve?" Mary asked, a look of apprehension in her face as if she was expecting what I knew I had to say.

"You'll have to get an abortion, Mary," I said, turning my face away as I said it so as not to see the hurt in her face.
 
 
Chapter 9
 
 
“No, Steve, I'm not having an abortion,” said Mary fiercely, as we sat at the table on Saturday morning having our breakfast,” it's my body and I'll make the decision and I've made my mind up!”

I looked at her tired face and I wondered if she had slept as little as I had. We had argued for many hours about how we resolve the impossible financial situation we were in. Eventually she had gone to sleep in the spare bedroom while I had kept Bekka company.

It had been a long night, tossing and turning in bed while trying to find another solution to the only one that seemed to make sense. Having to feed our daughter in the middle of the night had been a welcome escape from my mental turmoil.

“Mary, you're not being rational,” I said as calmly as I could,” what other options do we which don't involve losing our home?”

“No, you're right Steve, I'm not being rational,” she responded,” I'm being emotional, that's what woman do and my heart is telling me I'm making the right decision”

Our continued argument was interrupted by our precious daughter wanting some attention. I got up and made my way to the bedroom. Bekka was lying on her back with a look on her face that was a mixture of surprise, at the new perspective from rolling over onto her back, and contentment, after finally achieving her goal.

“Who's a clever girl then,” I said, happily, feeling pleased at this little step taken on Bekka's development. I called Mary to come and share the moment. We stood next to the playpen, holding hands, the previous disagreement put aside for a while. Our daughter smiled up at us, another recent addition to her skills and something we were so happy to see.

“Don't you think little Bekka deserves a brother or sister?” Mary asked after a few minutes, “ I used to hate being an only child.”

“Yes, that would be lovely, but I just don't think it's possible at the moment,” I replied, “ maybe in a year or so.”

“But I might not be strong enough then,” said Mary.

I turned and took her in my arms, kissing her softly on her cheek.

“You're always be strong, my sweet,” I reassured.

“But, Steve, what if the cancer comes back?” she asked, sobbing a little on my shoulder,” I can't be pregnant then”

I considered what Mary was saying as I gently stroked her soft hair.

The door bell rang, Bekka, startled at the sound, began to whimper. I looked at the clock in surprise at such an early call.

“Sugar, it's nine already, that must be Jules,” I said, as I picked up our little bundle of joy,” I forgot she was coming around this morning with my stuff”

“I'll let her in, you get on with Bekka,” Mary said.

I busied myself with changing my daughter while Mary let Jules into the house. I heard their voices in the kitchen as I prepared to give Bekka a morning feed. I sat in the armchair and put her to my left breast.

“Hi Steve,” said Jules as she walked into the lounge carrying two cups of tea.

“Hi, yourself, thanks,” I responded, as I took the proffered beverage.

“Hey, matching nighties,” joked Jules, changing her gaze from me to Jules and then back again

“Saves on shopping,” explained Mary,” and it's easier for Steve to breast feed”

“Well you both look very cute in them,” said Jules, between sips of tea.

“So how is everyone at work?” I asked.

"Going downhill fast, I would say," Jules replied," we seem to losing about ten contracts a day. Agents, resort managers, hoteliers and all sorts of other people are phoning all the time. They nearly all have the same two questions."

"What are those?" I asked.

"The first one is why did Tumbril get arrested and the second one is 'where is Steve?'." Jules replied.

"Nice to know you're missed then, Steve," said Mary, smiling.

"Oh, I forgot to mention, there's an article in today's Guardian," interjected Jules before handing over her copy, open to the main business pages. She pointed out the small article in the bottom right of the page.

Sunset for Adventure Travel?

There is still mystery surrounding the arrest earlier this week of the London area manager of Adventure Travel, William Tumbril, who yesterday was remanded in custody on charges of rape, assault and embezzlement. It is unclear whether these charges are related to his place of work or to some other location. There are also rumours that some senior staff have resigned in protest at the sacking of another staff member.

In a brief statement, Brian Salter, the regional manager, stated:-

"Adventure Travel is undergoing an employment restructuring programme and a few individuals have been moved on in their careers. We remain on course for record profits this year"

"Senior staff resigned?" I asked, after I had put the paper down and moved Bekka to my other breast.

"Yes, Kathleen and me," Jules replied.

"Why's that?" Mary asked.

"The last couple of days the atmosphere was so bad, especially with the Mr 'Fixit', they sent in to try and clean up the mess. He was almost camped in our office watching everything we did, especially after the first cancellations. I think he was worried that we were trying to sabotage the company," Jules explained, laughing, "little did he know"

"Why's that?" I asked.

Jules put her in hand in her shoulder bag and took out a pink memory stick.

"Voila! Your guarantee of future employment," she said, triumphantly.

"How come?" I asked.

"It's got the details of all your contacts and also all the people who were interested in the bespoke holiday service, past and potential customers," she explained.

"Wow, you are a genius, Jules," I said with appreciation of her company espionage skills.

"Aren't I just," she said, preening herself," me and Kath did the same as well"

I laughed.

"How much longer do you have to work there till the end of your notice period?" I asked, after a few minutes.

Jules told us that she and Kathleen had been escorted out of the building as soon as their letters of resignation were received, Friday afternoon, and were both on a month's 'gardening leave'. Neither of them were bothered as with their experience, language skills and their list of contacts they both expected to pick up work very quickly.

I finished feeding Bekka just as the phone rang, Mary answered it.

"Steve do you want to go for a picnic in Ally Pally*?" she asked.

"Sure, why not, it's a lovely day," I replied, looking out of the window to see the bright summer sun beating down," who with?"

"It's John and Elizabeth from work, they mentioned the idea yesterday, I forgot to tell you," she answered.

"What about you Jules?" asked Mary," are you busy today, want to join us?"

"Well OK, as long as you don't think I'll be in the way, you know with two couples, I'll feel like the odd woman," responded Jules.

"Maybe not," said Mary, smiling at me.

I caught her gaze and wondered where this was leading.

"Why don't I want to ask you by that remark, Mary," I said.

"Um, sort of sorry Steve, but John saw us in the shopping centre last week and I had to explain you were my sister," she said coyly.

"The return of Stephanie to the world!" announced Jules.

I shrugged my shoulders and went to find some suitable female clothes.

Two hours later we were walking along a tree lined path in the grounds of the park. The shade was a respite from the heat of the late morning sun. We had earlier met the young couple from Mary's work and I had had to endure some polite questioning about the whereabouts of my husband, while Jules and Mary struggled to keep straight faces.

"Hey everyone, what about this spot for the picnic?" asked Mary when we had reached a shaded, piece of open grass next to the lake.

Everyone agreed with Mary's choice. We put a blanket down and I lay down with Bekka, tickling her and letting her grasp my fingers, singing a nursery rhyme and doing the actions.

Hickory Dickory Dock
The mouse ran up the clock
The clock struck one
The mouse ran down
Hickory Dickory Dock

The other three went off to get some tea while Mary laid out the food.

"This is lovely here, don't you think?" she asked after the picnic was ready.

"Yes, one of those moments when you feel that you are at peace with the world. If only life could more often be picnics in the park with your family," I remarked.

"Especially if there is more than one child?" suggested Mary.

I smiled at her comment.

"I think that the memory stick could change things you know," I said quietly.

"What do you mean?" asked Mary, hopefully.

"It means that there is good chance a generating quite a bit of business, quickly for European Experiences and if so then maybe earning enough money to make things work," I explained.

"Are you saying what I think you're saying," Mary asked.

"Yes, I am, my sweet, I'll phone Jeffrey when we get back to tell him that I will start work as Stephanie on Monday and lets make sure that Bekka will have a little brother or sister in nine months time," I said, smiling at Mary.

Mary reached over and kissed me, pouring her feelings of joy and happiness into our embrace. After the nightmare of the previous week it was wonderful to feel normal again.

*Alexandra Park in North London.
 
 
Chapter 10
 
 
"Hello, I'm Stephanie, I was told to bring my baby here," I said to the harassed young woman, who was trying to pull two three year old boys off each other, as I walked into the long room, decorated with children's drawings and simple educational posters, that was European Experiences's crá¨che.

"Sorry, a bit busy here," she replied, "Simone will sort you out"

"Oh, OK, thanks Theresa" I said, after reading the name-tag of the nursery nurse, who by now had succeeded in separating the two boisterous toddlers and was leading them away to engage in more constructive play.

"Simone!!," she yelled in the direction of the toilets where a procession of little children were walking out rearranging their clothes as best they could.

"What is it?" yelled the invisible Simone, obviously busy in encouraging appropriate toileting behaviour.

"There's a woman, with a baby here, says she was told to bring him here," replied Theresa.

"Damn, not another baby!" cursed Simone," OK tell her I'll be right there"

"Did you get that, Susan, no it wasn't Susan, sorry what did you say your name was?" asked Theresa, who had succeeded in seating her two energetic charges at the little table with the toy garage.

"It's Stephanie," I replied, dismayed at my first impression of childcare provision at my new workplace. This wasn't the start that I had hoped for on my first day presenting myself as a woman to a whole group of strangers.

As I had driven my way through the usual London gridlock to Camden Town I had felt increasingly apprehensive. It was one thing to wear female clothes, however convincingly, with a group of friends who knew the truth. It was a much greater challenge to spend the day worrying that any wrong response to a simple question might raise doubts about my apparent gender.

"Yes, how can I help you?" asked an unsmiling woman in her thirties wearing an apron, obviously Simone.

"Hello, my name is Stephanie Jones and this is Bekka my daughter," I replied, smiling as disarmingly as I could.

"Well, I'm sorry Stephanie, we don't normally have babies in the crá¨che, it's really for toddlers," said Simone, obviously confident in her ability to repel the source of a potential problem.

My heart sank at this unexpected response.

"We do sometimes have a baby if special arrangements are made and usually only for a short period, but I'm pretty sure that there's nothing in the book about a new baby coming today," Simone explained, in a not too unfriendly tone, but clearly searching for the coup de grace that would expel me from her little world.

She opened the big heavy diary that was on the top of the desk next to the entrance and quickly glanced at the list of children booked in.

"There's nothing here, who did you say told you to being your daughter here today?" Simone asked, her smile showing her confidence that I had made some mistake and was about to leave.

"I didn't say, but it was Jeffrey Withers, yesterday when I phoned him to accept the job," I replied.

"You spoke to him yesterday, at home?" Simone asked, raising her eyebrows at the idea of someone contacting the Deputy MD on a Sunday.

I sensed a weakening in Simone's resolve not to admit Bekka and pressed home my advantage.

"Yes and he was eager for me to start today after I had the interview with him and Alex on Friday," I explained, dropping the name of the company MD into the conversation.

"Is that Alex Price?" she asked, clearly taken aback at my contacts in the company.

"Yes, is there another Alex in European Experiences?" I enquired ever so innocently.

"Well I guess we'll have to try and fit you in, at least on a temporary basis, we are not really staffed here to cater for babies," said Simone, grudgingly conceding defeat.

At that stage Bekka chose to announce her presence with a little whimper that gradually increased in volume so that by the time I had picked her up she was making enough noise to attract the attention of most of the other children in the crá¨che, apart from the two garage mechanics who appeared to be experimenting in ram raid attacks with their plastic vehicles.

I sat down, holding Bekka, on a nearby chair and quickly unbuttoned my blouse, with my free hand. I opened my nursing bra, removed the pad and put Bekka to suckle. I had wondered how long she would last this morning as she had not fed well earlier, as if she could sense the tension I was under.

"Oh, you're breast feeding, that might be a problem," said Simone.

Meanwhile at this development two of the toddlers, a girl with blond hair in a ponytail, wearing a short pink dress and a boy in shorts, had walked over and were standing in front of me.

"Simone why is she letting her baby eat her boobies?" asked the girl, pointing at me, sounding very alarmed.

"It's OK, Evie" reassured Simone, "Stephanie's giving some milk to Bekka"

"Hello Stephanie," said Evie, smiling at me.

"Hello Evie," I said, smiling back.

"Stephanie?" said Evie.

"Yes," I said.

"Do you have to drink a lot of milk to get it into your boobies?" she asked, seriously.

"Um no, Evie," I said, trying my best to stifle my amusement.

"Will I get boobies, if I drink a lot of milk?" asked the little boy," I don't want boobies"

"You like milk, you'll have boobies soon, Paul," explained Evie.

Paul put his hands to his eyes and started sobbing.

"I don't want boobies, only girls have boobies," he said between his tears.

At this stage, before any more of the children could join in the toddler discussion, on breast feeding and gender roles, Simone decided that major distraction was in order.

"Children, I think we need a special celebration to welcome a new baby to our crá¨che, I have a packet of chocolate buttons for everyone," she said leading Evie and Paul over to the table. The other children followed, instantly captivated by the prospect of some more sweet, brown circles of delight.

I managed to finish topping up Bekka and she went back to sleep. By the time Simone had seated all the children for their extra treat I was once again the smartly dressed female executive, in my black Jaeger skirt suit as before. I would need to do some shopping soon to maintain the appropriate image.

Simone explained about the difficulties in ensuring that the crá¨che would be quiet enough for a baby to sleep, due to their lack of space. She suggested that I use the travel cot, that she had retrieved from the back of a cupboard, in my office and to bring Bekka down when she was awake and they could put her in one of the playpens. I accepted the only offer that was possible and we made our way to Jeffrey's office.

I knocked on his office door, a muffled voice bade us enter.

"Stephanie, welcome, I'm so glad that you could start today," he said effusively, as we walked into the room," Oh Simone, is there is problem?"

Simone explained about the staffing issue and the arrangement that she had made to look after Bekka.

"OK, that shouldn't be a problem, Stephanie will be working from the finance department, they have a spare desk and hopefully it's not as busy or noisy as the general office," he said, leading us towards across the open plan area where around a hundred employees of the company were working. The strange procession of the deputy MD, myself carrying Bekka and Simone with the travel cot received a lot of curious looks.

We entered a medium sized room with two desks on either side. A smartly dressed, tall woman in her middle thirties turned away from her computer and looked at us through her horn rimmed glasses.

"Debbie, this is Stephanie Jones, I told you about her earlier," said Jeffrey, "Stephanie let me introduce Debbie James, our financial genius"

I smiled and held out my hand a gesture that was reciprocated by Debbie, although her smile seemed to lack any warmth. Simone quickly set up the cot and then left, with a last mutter about staffing levels. I laid Bekka down gently in the cot while Jeffrey excused himself, promising to check in on me later.

"She's a lovely baby," commented Debbie," although I'm surprised that you have to bring it to work. Can't you get a nanny or a place in a nursery?"

I sensed a little opposition from Debbie to my presence in her office, so I quickly explained Bekka's cow's milk allergy.

"You're going to breast feed here?" asked Debbie, sounding astonished at such news.

"I'm sorry there doesn't seem to be much choice, maybe something else can be sorted out later," I replied, trying to mollify Debbie's antagonism.

"Well I hope you're not going to be too noisy about it, sometimes it takes a lot of concentration to get on top of the finances here," she said, sounding annoyed at the intrusion in her little kingdom.

I promised to do my best and then turned to my desk to start my work. The next few hours went by very quickly as I phoned a number of my European contacts. I had emailed them all on the weekend explaining the change in my work and gender situation. Despite that forewarning I still had to explain again the reasons for my changed identity and to deny that I was a transsexual. Apart from one or two frosty responses most of my calls went well and the majority were interested in discussing possible deals.

As usual Bekka timed her return from the land of nod very well and I had just finished my latest phone call when it became time to feed her again. I discovered the advantage of giving my precious daughter her nourishment at the desk as I replied to some of the emailed responses.

I noticed that Debbie had been giving me strange looks for much of the morning, which I put down to her antagonism and her curiosity. It was a relief to take the ten minute walk to the crá¨che and back to deposit Bekka.

As I walked back into the office she was stood next to my desk holding my phone.

"There's a call, I think it might be for you," she said, passing me the hand-piece," it's from Germany, by the accent"

"Hallo," I said uncertainly," wer ist das?"

"Morgan, Steve," came the familiar voice of Otto from Heidelberg.

The conversation followed similar lines to the ones previously and, once we had got over the confusion of my changed gender identity, was as positive as most of the earlier calls.

I put the hand-piece down and realised that Debbie was staring at me again. I was getting a bit annoyed by her attitude by now and decided to find out what the problem was.

"Is there something wrong Debbie, " I said a little abruptly," I've noticed you giving me strange looks all morning"

She stared at me for a few more seconds then leaned forward in her desk.

"Listen Stephanie, maybe it's not really any of my business," she said softly," but even though I can't speak French or German, it’s easy to work you the meaning of ‘Transexuelle’ . Also that man from Germany asked to speak to Steve but. Maybe you'd like to explain what’s going on"

“I’m not sure I understand,” I said evasively.

“Stephanie in my job I get to know all of the important things that happen to the company. I have to since I have to process all the finance for everything Alex and Jeffrey get up to,” Debbie said with a slight smile.

“I see,” I responded, not sure where this was leading.

“The point is that when Jeffrey told me that he and Alex were excited about recruiting a former employee of Adventure Travel I wondered if it might be the Steve Jones, whom they have often mentioned. I was therefore very surprised to be introduced to Stephanie Jones this morning,” she explained.

I sat there, staring at her, not being sure what to say.

Debbie stood up and walked over to the door, she closed and then locked it and then turned back towards me.
“There, we won’t be disturbed now. Stephanie, there is one very good reason why you can trust me on this,” Debbie said, before returning to her seat.

“Why is that?” I asked, intrigued by her comment.

“I used to be called Donald,” she explained.

I sat back in my chair, stunned by the revelation.

“Everyone here knows about my past,” she continued,” it’s not an issue, but if you want to keep your situation confidential then that is fine by me”

Reassured by Debbie’s candour I told her everything that had led to me being in her office at that moment. At the end of my explanation she stood up and walked over me and hugged me.

“Steve that is an inspiring story,” she said,” if there is anything I can do to help don’t hesitate to ask”

“Thank you,” I said feeling relaxed for the first time in my new workplace,” maybe things are starting to work out at last”
 
 
Epilogue — Ten Months Later
 
 
“Thanks everyone for coming in for this first meeting of the executive committee of the Adventure Travel division of European Experiences,” said Susan Williams as she sat at the head of the long boardroom table, addressing the twenty other committee members.

“Thanks especially to Steve, Mary, Jules and Kathleen in coming in even though they are on maternity and paternity leave,” she said turning to look at the four of us sitting at the four inch thick oak table that had been made out of the former door to the room we were in.

I looked down at baby Hugh greedily suckling on my left breast while Mary fed Bekka from the bottle containing her own milk that had been pasteurised.* To our side Jules and Kathleen, seven and eight months pregnant respectively, looked uncomfortable in their hard backed chairs.

“Before we start the business of the day, which is to discuss future ventures in the development of our business I just want to publicly thank our four guests for their hard work and perseverance in rescuing our company from the disastrous position it was placed in by the criminal activities of key senior members, all of whom will have time at Her Majesty’s pleasure to consider the folly of their actions,” Susan said,” so please will you join me in extending our appreciation for the four individuals who have shown that a Mother’s Love can conquer all”

Everyone stood and applauded. It was a sweet moment.

*http://jhl.sagepub.com/cgi/content/abstract/17/2/152

“Hi Mummy,” greeted Bekka, “I did a picture, Daddy is Mum-Stephanie tonight.” “Yes, darling, I can see,” said Mary as she walked over to the playpen and knelt down to hug our daughter. “Don’t worry Bekka, Daddy’s not going to be Mum-Stephanie much more tonight.” A Mother’s Love - Vol. 3.01 by Alys

---

A Mother’s Love Vol. 3.01

“Non! C’est impossible!”, shouted the angry French hotelier down the phone, before he ended the call.

At the fifth rejection of the day I slammed the phone down. It had been a difficult and frustrating day trying to persuade some hard pressed European hotel owners and activity organisers to increase their discounts for Adventure Travel. So far I’d only managed to shave a few percentage points off a small number of accounts. It wasn’t going to be enough to avoid redundancies. The whole holiday trade was going down the pan.

I sat back in my padded office chair and took a sip from my glass of water. I looked at my watch and realised it was time to head off to pick up Hugh and Bekka from the creche. I rapidly logged off the computer and locked the desk before standing up, smoothing my skirt down and adjusting an errant bra strap. I picked up my handbag and started for the door.

The phone rang.

I hesitated. I only had a few minutes to change from my female outfit and pick up my daughter before the creche closed.

I looked at the caller display. I had to take the call.

"Stephanie ici......."

*****************************

Fifteen minutes later I burst through the door into the nursery, "Sorry Janis, there was a call....."

The young woman smiled up at me from the rocking chair where she was entertaining my youngest child, Hugh, by making faces, while Bekka, my daughter, was carefully dressing and undressing her Cabbage Patch doll.

"Don't worry Stephanie, I know you're doing your best for the company. Anyway Hugh, Bekka and I have enjoyed ourselves for the last ten minutes."

I picked up the children’s bag and put the strap over my shoulder and then reached over to take Hugh from Janis’s arms. I called over to Bekka.

“Time to go now Bekka, love, fetch Ashley.”

“Mum-Stephanie, I did picture,” she informed me as she stood up and walked over to grasp my hand with her right hand carrying her doll in the other.

Janis pointed at the bag and nodded.

I smiled back, “OK, Bekka we can show it to Mummy later.”

I turned back to Janis, “Have they been good today?" I asked.

"Great on the whole, Bekka was as sweet and cheerful as always and played with the other children, although maybe Hugh is getting another tooth, he was a bit grizzly this afternoon but otherwise he's a pet," Janis responded.

I quickly strapped my bundles of joy into the double pushchair and turned to leave the nursery.

"Stephanie aren't you forgetting something?"

I looked round to see Janis giving me a funny look, "What do you mean? Isn't everything in their bag?

"Not the children’s stuff, you, your clothes. Stephanie, aren't you going to change? I thought Mary doesn't like seeing you in women's clothes."

“I’ve got no time now, I have to get home to make our evening meal and feed the children. If I’m lucky I can change before Mary gets home.”

“I bet she’ll be glad when you’ve weaned Hugh.”

“Me too and then I won’t have to be Stephanie in the office when I’m dealing with customers in case they see me go off to breast feed,” I reminded her.

She smiled, “Yes, that’ll save on laundry too.”

I bade Janis a good evening and made my encumbered way along the corridor from the creche to the lift. The office was deserted as it was now after 6pm and it was quite dim apart from the ghostly glow of the computer monitors on the desks.

“Late tonight, Ms Jones,” asked John, the caretaker as I exited the lift on the ground floor of our North London office block.

I pushed the children over towards the little office where John controlled the building’s basic functions. I had always tried to spend a little time with him every time I saw him. I also owed him a personal debt after he saved me from a serious sexual assault the previous year.

“Been trying to get more discounts from our European hotels. We need to save money somehow.” I explained, even though I knew John would have a pretty good idea of the state of the company with the continual reduction in the numbers working in head office over the previous twelve months.

“If anyone can do it, I’m sure it’s you Ms Jones,” he responded, “I’d hate to have to take redundancy now with six more years till I retire, not many jobs for ex-caretakers in their mid-fifties.”

I touched his arm, gently, a gesture I would be very unlikely to use when I was in male mode, “Don’t worry, John, you’re the most important person here, I’d be long gone before you ever lost your job.”

I turned the buggy and began to move for the main exit, “Good night, John and give my best wishes to Mrs Everrit.”

“Thanks Ms Jones, good night and give my regards to Mary,” he replied before he pressed a button on his control desk to open the doors for me to leave.

I pushed the children through the opening and then turned and gave him a last wave, a gesture that Bekka copied to John’s evident amusement as he smiled at us.

As I approached my car in the staff carpark I considered John’s mental agility in dealing with my varied gender roles. Usually in the evening, when I had had enough time to change he referred to me as ‘Mr Jones’ and gave his regards to ‘Mrs Jones’. However whenever I was unable to change before leaving he would refer to me as ‘Ms Jones’ but Mary would no longer be my spouse and would just be my friend.

“Oh well, not for too much longer...” I said to myself as I adjusted my bra strap after belting the children in the car.

I sat down in the car and adjusted the seat belt across my breasts.

“I’m going to miss my two built in pillows when they’re gone,” I muttered as I started the car and slowly eased myself down the narrow ramp of the car park.

The journey home along Holloway Road was slightly easier than usual, given the lateness of the evening and I made it home only twenty minutes after my normal arrival time. As I crawled up the ‘expressway’ I considered how flexible Bekka was in addressing me. In male mode I was ‘Daddy’, while in female ‘mode’ I was ‘Mum-Stephanie.’ This sometimes caused confusion if we were together in a public place and I was about to go to work, when anyone overhearing her would assume that Mary and I were a Lesbian couple.

I rushed the children into the house, put Bekka in her high chair with a pot of yoghurt and banana. I placed Hugh in his bouncy chair, which seemed to amuse him while I transferred the casserole from the fridge into the oven to cook.

There was just time to make myself a quick instant coffee before Hugh lost interest in the mobiles on his chair and remembered it was time for something contained securely in my blouse.

***************************

Fifteen minutes later I had finished feeding Hugh and was changing him, after taking Bekka from her high chair and putting her in the playpen. I heard Mary’s car pulling into the drive and cursed quietly to myself, “Damn I ran out of time.”

“Hi Steve, I’m home,” she called from the hallway, “have a good day?”

“In the kitchen, love,” I replied.

I heard her walk the few steps and opened the door to the kitchen. I tensed slightly waiting for the criticism.

“Oh you’re still ‘Stephanie’,” she commented, coldly, “I thought you’d promised to change before coming home.”

“Hi Mummy,” greeted Bekka, “I did a picture, Daddy is Mum-Stephanie tonight.”

“Yes, darling, I can see,” said Mary as she walked over to the playpen and knelt down to hug our daughter.

“Don’t worry Bekka, Daddy’s not going to be Mum-Stephanie much more tonight.”

She turned to me, “Can you go and change now, you know how much I dislike seeing you in those clothes.”

I handed Hugh over to her, “Sorry about the clothes I had to make.....”

Mary interrupted, “I don’t want to hear any excuses and to be honest there seem to be too many of them these days. I sometimes wonder if Stephanie is ever going to be gone from our lives.”

Silenced by her icy comment, I made my way to our bedroom, undressed, putting away my blouse, skirt and jacket in the separate section of my wardrobe, with placing my undies in the washing basket. I pulled on a loose t-shirt and some jogging bottoms and then removed my make-up.

I was about to make my way back to the kitchen when the sway of my boobs reminded me that I needed something to restrain them. Mary hated me wearing a proper bra when I was in male mode, so I removed my t-shirt and pulled on one of my stretchy sports bras and then replaced my t-shirt on top.

When I got back downstairs Mary was finishing putting Hugh to sleep in his cot. I took Bekka to the bathroom and run a shallow bath for her. She sat in and began splashing and playing with her bath toys.

I heard Mary coming up the stairs.

“How was your day, love?” I asked as I reached to hug her.

She came towards me, was about to return the gesture but then at the last second she pushed me away, “Urgh, you should have had a shower, I can still smell my perfume on you.”

I looked at her, feeling a little crestfallen, “Sorry, Mary I thought you’d want me to help with Bekka.”

She stood a few paces away and looked at me carefully, “Steve I could have waited a few minutes for you to smell a bit more masculine.”

“Sorry.”

There was a pause and then she asked me, “Because we needed me to work again how long did we agree you’d breast feed Hugh?”

I thought for a moment, “didn’t we say about eight months?”

“We did, since he could be safely weaned onto solids and soya milk.”

“We’re almost there then.”

“Steve we reached eight months almost six weeks ago.”

“Sorry, I’ve been so busy at work, I hadn’t kept track of the time.”

“Tell me Steve, have you made that appointment at the clinic yet?”

“Mary, you know the situation at work, I’m doing everything to save the company....and my job.”

“Yes, I know how hard you’re working,” she replied with a gentler tone than before, “ and I’m sure everyone appreciates your efforts.”

I smiled at her and then turned to redirect Bekka’s efforts from splashing to washing.

I was surprised by my wife’s next sentence.

“That’s why I phoned up myself and got you an appointment tomorrow....for your mastectomy!”

---

To Be Continued...

End of Vol. 3.01