New York City is famous for many things. One of the lesser-known attractions are the ‘Brownstone’ houses. Many of these were built at the end of the 19th Century and are very desirable residences. Unconverted ones can sell for well over $ 10 million.
Millions of people pass by them every day and most of the time, they are ignored because they are part of the fixtures and fittings that make up the fabric of the ‘Big Apple’. Only when something out of the ordinary happens do they attract attention.
Derek Redmayne was one of those who were attracted to one particular more modest property in Brooklyn. It wasn't the architecture that drew him there regularly but the sound of sweet music coming from the ground floor.
Visible through the large windows which because of the summer heat were wide open, a young woman would spend hours playing a grand piano. Her repertoire included all of the Beethoven Piano Sonatas, most of those written by Mozart as well as lesser known composers such as Pavane. The smile on her face told everyone who stopped to briefly listen that she was enjoying herself. She seemed to be oblivious to how large or small her audience was, it didn’t matter when you are having fun.
Derek was one of those who lingered a bit longer than most. He had been a pianist himself in a former life, but was never even close to her level of expertise. That made him admire her skill even more although he wasn’t watching her play. He’d stand with his back to the house listening to her skill for up to twenty minutes every few days while he was in NYC.
His behaviour was noticed by a local NYPD Officer, Joe Bartoli. He didn't like people loitering on his patch. There had been several robberies of local houses in broad daylight in recent months. His superiors had been putting pressure on him to get his patrol area under control.
Derek Redmayne and his passion for music unwittingly became a target of Officer Bartoli. The first time he spotted him standing in front of a Brownstone he watched and waited. After ten minutes, he was about to move in and arrest him for loitering with intent when Derek moved away.
Officer Bartoli followed him for three blocks but lost him in the evening traffic. He made a not to keep tabs on the location and the next time, he'd not get outsmarted by this criminal.
He walked up to Derek with one hand on his service pistol and the other on his taser.
“Ok scumbag, assume the position. On you knees with your hands behind your head.”
His words took Derek by surprise.
“Move scumbag or I will tase you.”
“Sorry… I don’t understand?”
That question was resistance in the eyes of Officer Bartoli. Without warning, he tased Derek who jerked a lot and sank to the floor.
Officer Bartoli wasted no time and cuffed Derek. Then he radioed it in. Derek had been arrested on suspicion of committing a robbery and resisting arrest.
“What…. What happened?” he muttered.
“You have the right to remain silent…”
The officer read Derek his rights at the speed of light. When he'd finished, he added,
“So shut the fuck up scumbag. You are going down. If I have my way, it will be ten years in sing-sing.”
A small crowd had gathered around as Office Bartoli waited for support to arrive. Derek thought about protesting, but he'd seen far too many US Cop shows to know how trigger-happy some Police Officers can be. He bided his time and waited for a senior officer to arrive.
It took some twenty minutes for the support to arrive. Derek was bundled into the back of a Police Car and taken to a Precinct Station for processing.
“Name?” asked the Desk Sergeant.
“I want my phone call,” said Derek.
“Cut the crap. You will get it when I think that you deserve it,” joked the Sergeant.
Derek sighed.
“Then please look inside my jacket. The arresting officer frisked me but didn’t take my passport. That will explain everything.”
“Passport? Wanting to flee the country. I’ll make sure that the ADA knows all about it.”
Derek was beginning to lose his temper. For a normally calm person, this was a rare occasion.
“Look Sergeant, I have diplomatic immunity. I want my phone call or I will make sure that you are patrolling the garbage tips on Staten Island before the week is out.”
“Don’t you threaten me scumbag. You were arrested for loitering with intent to commit a burglary.”
“And I have diplomatic immunity. I work for the British Government at the United Nations. Every minute you detain me is a minute longer that my boss will be on the phone to your Secretary of State in DC giving him an earful. That will be echoed to One Police Plaza and you really don’t want that do you?”
Gradually, what Derek was saying began to sink in.
“You say that your passport is in your jacket inside pocket?”
“I do.”
The sergeant didn’t look very happy as he came around the desk and extracted Derek’s passport.
One look told him that both he and Officer Bartoli were in lots of trouble.
“Bartoli, release this man immediately.”
“Sarge?”
“You fool. Why did you not question the suspect first before getting your taser out?”
“I didn’t want to take any chances. He gave me the slip a few weeks ago.”
The Sergeant shook his head. Officer Bartoli was not the sharpest of Patrol Officers in his precinct.
“Get on with it Bartoli. Release this man.”
Bartoli moved very slowly but released Derek from the handcuffs.
“Now Sergeant, I have to make a phone call.”
“Please Mr Redmayne, come this way,” said the Sergeant.
“Bartoli, man the desk. I will be back in a few minutes. I’m not finished with you.”
Once he was back at the front desk, the Sergeant asked,
“Sir, if this is not a state secret, why were you standing outside that particular Brownstone on at least two occasions?”
Derek smiled.
“I was listening to some delightful music. There is a young lady in that house who plays the piano exquisitely. After a day of listening to boring people talk about boring things that matter to almost no one, it provides a few minutes of relief.”
The Sergeant shook his head.
“Now I have heard everything…”
“Sergeant, why not relieve Officer Bartoli tomorrow and listen for yourself? I stand with my back to the house just so that I can listen to the music and not be accused of stalking the beautiful young lady who lives in that house.”
He saw the Sergeant's reaction.
“Don’t worry Sergeant. I am not a stalker. I have no idea who she is and I’d rather not know. The memory of the music that she makes is more than enough for this failed musician. Yes, I studied Piano at the Royal College of Music in London but it was clear that I wasn’t that good. That young lady is worthy of a concert at Carnegie Hall.”
Derek’s heart was pounding as he turned onto the block where the Brownstone was located. He’d gone almost fifty yards when he heard the sounds of the final part of Beethoven’s Cuckoo Sonata No 25 coming from the house. A small smile appeared on his face. That was one of his favourite pieces. He’d played it many times when he was a student.
To his sadness, she finished playing that piece before he got to the front of the house. He need not have worried as she started playing a new piece. He recognised the melody but could not put a name to it. He stood as he had last time with his back to the house with his eyes closed. His fingers began to mimic hers as they moved about the keyboard. After around twenty bars, he remembered what it was, the Janacek Piano Sonata.
He was so engrossed in the music, that he didn’t notice someone coming out of the house towards him. A tap on his shoulder made him jump a bit. He turned to see a woman at his side.
“Sorry,” he said.
“I’ll be on my way but the music is so beautiful…”
The woman smiled.
“Please come into the house. Miss would like to talk to you.”
“Miss?”
“Miss Claire, who plays the piano.”
Derek was a little hesitant but after a couple of seconds, he accepted the invitation.
Seated at the piano was the young woman. Her long blonde hair cascaded down her back and moved in time with her body as she played from memory. That fact alone impressed Derek. Then there was the fact that she was very beautiful. To his eyes, everything was perfectly proportioned.
The woman who had come out on the street to meet him put an arm up to stop him from going closer to her while she was still playing. He didn’t protest, He was just marvelling at her skill at the ivories. She’d moved on from Beethoven and was now playing the Janacek Sonata. This was not the easiest sonata in the classical repertoire. He remembered struggling with this very movement yet she was playing it perfectly from memory. He was most impressed and very content to wait for her to finish.
It was nearly four minutes later that the piece concluded. Derek resisted applauding and hoped that his big grin would convey just how appreciative he was of her playing.
The pianist let the last note die away gradually with her eyes closed. He’d done the very same thing when he was a student. Savouring the moment hadn’t gone down well with some of the professors especially if he’d made a mistake in his playing.
“Thank you for coming inside. I hate going out into the city in summer,” said the young woman.
“No… Thank you for your excellent skill at the keyboard. I studied Piano at University but I was never anywhere near as accomplished as you are. It is an honour to hear your playing at the end of the day.”
She smiled back at him and stood up. Her white blouse and ankle-length yellow pleated skirt just seemed right. Even her medium-height black heels fitted the scene perfectly.
“I’m Claire… Claire Middleton.”
“Derek Redmayne.”
She smiled.
“Any relation to Eddie? Your accent gives the game away.”
Derek smiled.
“No relation as far as I know. Yes, I’m British.”
Claire briefly frowned.
“What are you doing in this part of the city? This isn’t on the normal tourist routes?”
“I come over every few weeks. I am on secondment to the British Legation at the UN. I sleep on a put-me-up about 10 blocks from here. My route from the bus to that place took me past here one day and heard you playing. It was very enthralling. That first day you were playing the Mozart no 8. I just had to stop and listen.”
“Then you got tasered by that stupid beat cop?”
“I did and I’d probably still be in jail right now if I didn’t have diplomatic immunity. That cop didn’t even bother to ask me who I was or what I was doing outside your house.”
“I’m so sorry that you had to endure that. It was not deserved but I have some good news about that trigger happy cop. He’s been busted back to patrolman and posted to Harlem.”
Derek thought it better to change the subject.
“Why aren’t you on stage wooing the audiences with your majestic playing?”
Claire smiled.
“Severe stage fright. I could not complete my course at Juilliard because of it.”
Derek smiled.
“I was just not that good especially compared to you. Playing that piece today from memory? Marvellous.”
Claire grinned.
“You clearly didn’t hear the missed notes then. There were at least three in today’s piece.”
“Well, they weren’t obvious. People deserve to hear you play even if you play from behind a screen. You are that good.”
Claire blushed. She flicked her hair with a toss of her head. He knew just how beautiful she was. She made the career diplomats that he worked with on a daily basis look downright dowdy and ugly.
“I’m ok doing what I do here. You are evidence of that. I have to admire how you turned your back to the house so that you could listen more intently. It was a shame that idiot cop didn’t bother to ask what you were doing.”
“I am probably lucky that he just tased me rather than shot me. Cops… or the Police back home generally don’t carry guns. It still freaks me out when I see someone carrying.”
“Twitchy Cops are a fact of life here.”
Derek thought about his current assignment and the end date which was just two months away. The words ‘so near yet so far’ crossed his mind.
“Penny for your thoughts?” asked Claire.
He sighed.
“I was just wondering how I could ask you out to dinner. As my way of saying thanks for entertaining me on my way home.”
Claire smiled.
“That sounds awfully fatalistic?”
Then she thought for a second.
“That’s not the right word. Finalistic or something like that?”
“In a way, it is. I have just a little time left on my assignment here.”
“Then what?”
Derek smiled.
“How about I answer that over dinner?”
“Touché!”
“Ok. Tomorrow night. I’ll pick a place that serves great Italian food and I don’t mean Pizza.”
“That sounds great. What time?”
Claire looked at the antique clock that stood on an old sideboard.
“About this time do?”
“Perfect. That’s a date then.”
[to be continued]
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Clair_de_Lune
Claire-de-Lune
[the following day after their dinner date]
“Thank you for a lovely evening,” said Claire
The pair had taken a Uber back to her home after a delightful Italian meal where they’d spent a couple of hours talking about classical music and venues and piano skills. For both of them, it had been a nice change from normal life.
“Will you be back tomorrow?”
Derek’s face told Claire that he wouldn’t before he spoke.
“Sadly no. I’m flying home tomorrow. The travel people booked me on the early evening flight from JFK. I’ll be going straight from work to the airport. I’ll be back in two weeks from Saturday.”
“Can’t you stay? You know take some vacation?”
Derek chuckled.
“Unfortunately, at the moment, I can’t take any leave. I have a report to write and then I have to present it to the Government Select Committee in London. That can only be done in person. We are at a critical stage in the negotiations. If that gets approved then my work item goes to the sub-committee at the UN and from that, we generate a report. My piece would be about 30% of the final report. The General Assembly wants it all done and dusted before the next session starts in September.”
“Your job is important to you, isn’t it?” asked Claire.
“It is the only job I have but there is not much future in it. Still, it looks good on my CV.”
“CV?”
Derek smiled.
“Resume in American.”
Claire smiled.
“I’ll be sure to stop by when I get back from the UK,” said Derek.
The tone of his voice told Claire that he was sad about leaving.
Derek then did something that was totally out of character for him. He took Clair’s hand in his. Claire’s initial reaction was to pull back but something told her not to.
Derek kissed the back of her hand.
“I’ll be back in two weeks.”
Then he walked off into the gathering gloom of the night.
Claire was playing a Debussy piece when Derek came to call. He noticed right away that she was not her usual self. The fluency of her phrasing was missing. This puzzled him as Claire had struck him as a perfectionist.
He rang the bell and her playing stopped immediately. He heard her footsteps running towards the door. A shape appeared on the other side of the frosted glass for an instant. The door opened and before he knew it, Claire had wrapped her arms around him.
“You came,” she cried.
Before he could answer her lips found his.
After recovering from the surprise, he responded. His mind was running on overdrive.
“You came back,” said Claire when they broke apart.
Derek was still trying to understand what had just happened.
“I said I would be back today, and here I am.”
“Thank you.”
Claire looked at his slightly dishevelled state.
“Did you fly in today?”
“Yeah. We landed nearly four hours ago but there was just one immigration officer on duty for non-US citizens and they didn’t take kindly to me using the US entry even though it clearly said ‘US Citizens and Diplomats’. They kept me there for nearly two hours. At first they didn’t want to say why. When I requested my phone call to the British Ambassador in DC, they told me why I was being considered for deportation. Apparently, my encounter with the NYPD had not been removed from my record as they’d promised and despite me having the letter of apology from the precinct Captain with me. I still made the phone call and less than 20 minutes later, they let me in. I would have thought that the people at JFK would be familiar with the rules relating to people with diplomatic immunity but honestly, I don’t think that they care.”
“Officials in this City are unreal,” said Claire.
“When we converted this house into apartments all sorts of rules and regulation kept appearing from out of nowhere.”
“They are the same pretty well everywhere,” replied Derek.
“Can I make you some coffee?”
“Not for me. I’ve had far too much today as it is but I do have something for you. Actually, there are two things.”
Derek reached into the carrier bag that he’d brought with him and pulled out a sheaf of papers.
“This is for you. I wrote it years ago when I still thought that I could make it as a musician.”
As Claire looked through the pages of a music score, she began to smile.
“It was unfinished before today, but on my flight back to London two weeks ago, I decided to dust it off and here it is. The only thing is that I have not heard the finished work as I don’t have a piano at my flat in North London.”
Claire smiled.
“Would you like me to play it for you right now?”
Derek shook his head.
“Not now. I need to get some sleep. I spent a lot of sleep time getting this finished as well as this.”
He pulled another score from the bag.
“I composed this when I was a student. It is a two-hander half sonata. It has never been performed other than in my mind. I’d like for us to play it together before I return to London.”
“That seems so final, doesn’t it?”
“Final? I don’t understand?”
“When you go back to London… that will be it. You won’t be coming back. Ever…?”
“Claire?”
“Don’t say anything right now. I have two new pieces of work to learn.”
Derek had always been rather uncomfortable around women and Claire was taking this to another level entirely.
Her attention was 100% on the scores. Derek took the chance and quietly left her alone before he put his foot into something that he didn’t even begin to understand. He began to feel the effects of jet lag catching up on him so he hailed a cab instead of walking to where he was staying.
He was clear in his mind that he fancied Claire, but the looming end of his visits to NYC would more than likely make any relationship doomed from the start.
As the day wore on, Derek became more and more certain that he wanted to try to have a relationship with Claire and a plan began to form in his mind about making it happen.
With the outline of a plan in his mind, he looked at the difficulties. Uppermost was that he knew literally nothing about Claire, her background or much of anything other than she lived on a ground floor or first floor, to use what to him was the weird American terminology apartment and that she owned the building. He guessed that her tenants paid her enough in rent to live on as he saw no signs of her doing any paid work. Derek concluded that Claire was, as they say, a woman of independent means.
If he was correct with those conclusions then one reason for not agreeing to his plan i.e. a job would not apply but Derek was never a person to suffer from over-optimism. On the odd occasion that he had been optimistic about something, it had come back to bite him hard emotionally and often financially as well.
Derek went to work on Monday with a plan for the evening but as the saying goes, 'The best-laid plans…'. His immediate superior, Don Pratt wasn’t happy with the work he’d done on the proposals while in London.
Derek was irked in that Don Pratt had the revisions to the proposals several days before he'd travelled. They'd even spoken on the phone several times after Derek had delivered the new version of the document. Thankfully, the head of the trade delegation had also received the updated document and was happy with the changes.
Don Pratt retaliated by demanding more changes before the meeting on Tuesday. This all happened as everyone was preparing to leave work at the end of the day. Derek was left with no other choice but to work well into the evening. He finished the changes and sent them to all the people who would need them the following day. He made sure that the time of the email was also part of the subject line. He had no liking for Don Pratt. Derek regarded Don as a workshy-ass licker. The downside was that he was far too late to go and see Claire as well as getting something to eat. He went to his lodgings not that confident in being able to see her the following day.
Almost half an hour after arriving for work, Derek was called into the office of the chief of delegation, James Gardiner.
“What sort of games are you trying to play Derek?” asked Mr Gardiner.
“I’m not playing any games. I wrote the report as we agreed, but Don Pratt didn’t like it so he had me here until nearly eleven last night to use his words, ‘making it acceptable’. As you can see on the subject line of the email that was when sent out the report he wanted. I know it is not what we agreed in London but here, he is my superior and I have to do what he wants.”
Mr Gardiner looked at Derek. Gradually, a smile appeared on his face.
“Thank you, Derek. Don Pratt is an idiot. Your original report is what we agreed and is what I want you to present to the committee tomorrow morning.”
“Sir? I don’t understand?”
“I know that you don’t kiss ass to get on in the world and as such. I appreciate that stance but Don Pratt has been muddying the waters back in London. A friend in HR told me that he has been giving you very bad reviews this past year. That will make finding you another assignment rather difficult. I had it out with Don last night after I read your email. As a result, Don is on his way back to London right now. He is done with the department. I have also ordered HR to remove all of his reviews of you from your file. If all goes well tomorrow then I’ll write a glowing review for you. Your diligence, thoroughness and attention to detail, is what will make this report work.”
Suddenly the looks that he’d received that morning started to make sense. Many of them were personal appointees of Don Pratt.
Mr Gardiner smiled at Derek.
“Once this conference is all over, I will be made ambassador to the EU. I know that times will be hard for us now that we have voted to leave the EU but the PM is relying on people like me to keep the flag flying so to speak. I like your plain speaking so I am sure that I can swing it so that you are my Private Secretary. Are you interested? Unofficially at the moment…”
“Sir… Yes, I am interested, but there is a personal issue that I need to deal with.”
“Here or in London?”
“Here. Why?”
“A young lady I presume?”
“Yes.”
“Then deal with her. I mean in a good way naturally. Follow your heart and when that is sorted give me a call. The word from the FCO[1] is that I won’t be appointed until the new year at the earliest so there is no rush.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Now… About tomorrow? Are you ready to present your original paper to the committee?”
“I think so sir.”
“Then go home, get some sleep and be here at 09:00 tomorrow when we can go over the main points that will probably be questioned during or after your presentation. I don’t expect many as all the main issues have been covered already. We are close to getting this done and on time which in my experience a rarity. Most of that is down to you and your directness. Several of the African delegates have appreciated this refreshing attitude from us.”
“Thanks sir.”
He listened intently for nearly a minute before starting to hear some differences from the score that he’d given to Claire. For a brief moment, he got angry, but as he listened to more of her playing, the changes only made the piece a lot better. A smile slowly spread across his face as he walked towards her house.
The playing stopped as he climbed the steps to the front door. He’d hardly gotten to the top when the front door opened and Claire had wrapped her arms around him.
“I was wondering if you had forgotten all about me?”
“How could I do that when you have made my piece so much better.”
Claire blushed.
“I’m so glad that you liked it. I… I hoped that by playing it that you’d come back to me.”
“I never went away. I had to work. I’m presenting our final report to the committee tomorrow. Then there is a bit of housekeeping to do and our work is done.”
“But… you will be going home?”
“I will.”
Claire let Derek go. She looked so sad.
“Why don’t you come with me?”
“Me? I thought that you lived in a small apartment in North London?”
“True but that is only while I work in London. I have tentatively been offered a post as Private Secretary to our new Ambassador to the European Union. That would mean living in Brussels. But I have been working on building a house of my own so I am undecided on the job offer.”
“But…?”
“At least come for a visit. If you don’t like it… A sort of try before you buy.”
Claire didn’t say anything. Instead, she took Derek’s hand and led him into the front room.
“I’ve been playing around with the other piece of yours. We can try to play it together.”
Derek smiled at her very adept way of changing the subject.
When he opened his eyes, he turned to look at her.
“Those changes are genius. In its original form, it was almost unplayable. I got rid of a lot of the more complex bits, but what you have done is just brilliant. Thank you.”
Before she could reply, Derek kissed her.
“Have you ever composed anything of your own?”
“Not really. A few dabbles but I could never get it written down. You gave me something to work on with your scores. I updated them with my changes but they were not that extensive, more like arranging a piece really.”
“Well, you should try it.”
“The… This city is too noisy. That’s why I play like I do. It is a way of drowning out the endless car horns and cop sirens.”
“Then my home, when I build it, could give you the peace that you want. It is the opposite to the city. Sometimes I find it too quiet.”
“Where is this idil?”
“Let me show you.”
Derek opened his phone and quickly pulled up a map of a village on the western edge of the Yorkshire Dales.
“This is home?”
“It is. I have a cottage on the edge of the village a few hundred metres from the Hotel. There is a full grand piano in the Hotel. I have planning permission to rebuild the cottage and convert the adjacent barn.”
“You gave up all this for working in London?”
“I had to see if I could manage life out in the real world. I’ve been down in London ever since I graduated a little over eight years ago. This assignment has worn me down and I need to get away from London.”
“And by implication New York?”
“This place is only a seven-hour flight away from Manchester so no.”
Then he said,
“Are you going to come home with me?”
Claire looked at Derek for several seconds before saying,
“There is something that you should know about me.”
“Are you married?”
She shook her head.
“No, I’m not married.”
She looked at Derek right in the eye, before saying,
“I’m not married, nor am I a lesbian.”
After a short hesitation she added,
“I’m trans.”
[to be continued]
[The End]
[1] FCO. The Foreign and Commonwealth Office. Deals with Foreign affairs for the UK Government.
Derek was stunned by what Claire had just told him. He’d been so certain about wanting to be with Claire for the rest of his life. For her to say that when she did, turned his world upside down but not in the way he’d expected.
She took his hand in hers.
“I am sorry to drop that bombshell on you, but I would have to tell to you sooner or later. If you or your family start talking about children, then it could get awkward.”
“Thank you for being honest with me Claire. To be honest, I have never thought about having children but I know that my mother would start talking about our plans within an hour of you being introduced to her, but given what happened during my last visit, she has a lot of forgiving to do before I go back. She had arranged a dinner with an old girlfriend without me knowing. She wanted to get married and I didn’t so I left the area and went down to London. That was seven years ago.”
“Don’t you mind about me being trans?”
Derek had just about recovered his composure.
“Claire, to me you have always been a woman. Everything about you screams to me ‘woman’. I never really told you what I studied at University after I dropped out of Music School?”
“What’s that got to do with all this?”
“I studied Psychology and obtained a Masters. Then I did a PHD in ‘Visual recognition of human characteristics.’”
“What does that mean?”
“My thesis was all about how people give themselves away through what they say and act. Some people call it a ‘tell’. That’s what got me noticed by the Civil Service. That paper was later adopted by the security services and used in training agents. You can use it to give false information as well as hiding the truth. Everything I saw and have seen in you says ‘I am female’.”
Claire didn’t say anything.
“Claire darling, I have to admit to analysing you. I know that I shouldn’t have done it but I’ve been hurt too many times by women lying to me. That was what made me choose that subject for my PHD.”
Then he stopped himself.
“Sorry Claire, I was rambling.”
“I’ve never felt how I feel about you with anyone else,” said Claire softly.
“The same here. I’m still confused. Why don’t you tell me all about how you got to where you play some of the most delightful music ever composed almost every day?”
Claire smiled.
“I will but first, I think it is time for dinner… Lasagne good for you? There is a bottle of Chianti Classico in the kitchen.”
“It is but I must not get drunk. I have my big day before the UN Committee tomorrow.”
[two hours later]
It was a troubled Derek who left Claire's home after a very nice meal. He'd limited himself to just one glass of excellent wine not because as he had said, he had a big day ahead of him, but because of his problems that were almost dominating their conversation.
He walked the 10 blocks to where he was sleeping on a sofa bed without really knowing where he was going. Derek's mind was focused on his own issues that had come to the fore when Claire had told him that she was a male-to-female transsexual.
His problem stemmed from the fact that Derek was an occasional transvestite. From time to time, he just loved to wear women’s clothes for a few hours in the privacy of his own home. He’d visited Claire with every intent of not only asking her to come to England with him but to tell her about his inner demon, but she’d beaten him hands down.
As much as he tried, sleep that night was difficult. Being from the UK where domestic air conditioners are as rare as hens’ teeth especially high up in the Yorkshire Dales where there is almost always a cool breeze. He could never get used to the sound of the one in his temporary home. The late summer NYC nights are never cool or quiet and with his mind going at a million miles per hour he couldn’t relax.
The coming dawn was starting to light up the sky to the east over Long Island when he gave up sleep as a bad job. After a long shower, he went out for an early breakfast. This was not normal for Derek but this was not going to be a normal day. It looked like it was going to be his ‘Longest Day’.
Derek arrived at the office just after 07:00. That was very, very early for him but he had to work on his speech. Well, that was what he told himself when he declined to take the subway and took a cab. Like going out for breakfast, this was very much out of character for him. When he was still a teenager, he’d found out that doing things out of the ordinary was a good way of getting his mind off the important things for at least a few hours. So far that day, he’d done very little that the Derek of just one day earlier would have done.
He continued that trend by making sure that as his colleagues arrived for work, they were greeted by him and given a coffee or tea of their choice. This distraction operation got Derek noticed and talked about by almost everyone for the first time in the seven months that he’d been working on secondment in NYC.
Even his boss noticed the change. He put it down to nerves before presenting the work of their sub-committee to the full committee. In just a few hours, he’d be standing before representatives of more than sixty sovereign nations. All their eyes and ears would be on him and him alone.
Several of his colleagues stopped at his desk to wish him luck but his mind was very much elsewhere. He knew that it was happening but he could not tell who had done it or what they'd said.
Shortly before it was time to head to the committee room, his mind cleared enough for him to drink his now cold cup of tea. After gathering his notes and the report he went off to give the report.
Derek focussed his mind on the delivery and answering the ten or so questions at the end. To his surprise, the committee gave him a round of applause.
He sat down exhausted but his job was done.
The chairwoman of the committee, a large woman from Sierra Leone came to congratulate him.
“Well done. Your team has done a great job in bringing the different factions together,” she said to him.
Her brightly coloured robes momentarily dazzled him.
“Thank you representative M’bawe. It was as you say, a team effort, everyone played their part.”
That was the first of many people congratulating him. For someone who had lived his life in the shadows, this was a new and slightly bewildering experience. It took him well over 15 minutes before he was able to extract himself from the room. Once he was outside, he stood with his back to the wall of the corridor and breathed a sigh of relief. He stood there for nearly five more minutes with his eyes closed before heading back to his office.
His job was now done and there was nothing more to do apart from clearing the few personal belongings from desk drawers and leave. His colleagues were having none of that. They had plans for a celebratory lunch but he was saved by someone saying in his ear,
“You have a visitor.”
Derek had never had a visitor before so those four words took him by surprise. It took him a few seconds before he was able to see the throng of people before him move aside and a vision of beauty appeared before him.
“Claire? What are you doing here?”
She grinned.
“Can’t I come to support the man I love?”
Derek was immediately embarrassed by this show of affection. That was not his style at all.
Thankfully, the others who worked in the office let them leave together.
“I listened to your presentation. I hardly understood a word of it but it seemed to go down well,” said Claire.
“It did so thanks. You just took me by surprise.”
“I wanted to see you perform your last duty here. I know that it meant so much to you.”
“Thanks for coming. To be honest, I am at a bit of a loss about what to do next. I was just going to slope off and get some sleep. I didn’t get much last night.”
Claire looked slightly disappointed.
“But as you are here then we should do something this afternoon but I am at a bit of a loss about what that should be?”
Claire thought for a moment before saying,
“Fancy a train ride out to Long Island? Long Beach to be exact.”
“Sounds ok. Can we pick up something to eat along the way? I had breakfast at six this morning.”
“I know a great place that will be perfect.”
“Then let me lock these files up and we can be on our way.”
We walked out of the office arm in arm, knowing that every eye was on Claire. She was by a long way the most beautiful woman there. Derek knew that he’d be the subject of the office gossip for the rest of the week.
Derek slowly finished chewing a bit of his ‘sub’ before answering.
“I’m sorry I didn’t answer before, but it was a bit of a shock.”
“It always is. Most of the time you don’t see them for the dust the leave as they head for the hills but you didn’t.”
“I know. I spent most of the night trying to work out what to say and how to say it.”
“I’m listening and as far as I know we don’t have a train to catch for a bit?”
“Claire…”
“Yes, that’s me.”
“When you told me about yourself, I got very confused.”
Claire began to say something, but Derek stopped her.
"I was confused because I was going to say that from time to time I like to dress as a woman… just in my home. That is what I was going to tell you.”
Claire didn't say anything for several seconds, but slowly a smile came over her face.
“I knew that you were different from other men that I’ve had in my life… apart from your love of classical music. But…?”
“That is a whole bridge too far?”
Claire shook her head.
“No… not in the least. Despite my own past and yes, I started just like that, wearing my big sister Eileen’s clothes. Then I got caught by my mom. Eileen took to treating me as her baby doll. I didn’t mind but after that it didn’t matter that I wore her clothes all the time at home.”
“I… my childhood was just the opposite to that. My family found my stash of clothes and threw me out into the rain. I nearly died from pneumonia. Five weeks in Hospital. After that I was never allowed to be at home on my own. I gave up until I had a place of my own when I was at Oxford doing my PHD. One day I got a surprise visit from my parents who went through my clothes and everything before I returned home from teaching a postgraduate class. It was my turn to throw them out and we have not spoken since.”
“But… you said that they run a hotel in…? Yorkshire?”
“Sorry about that. I didn’t think things through. I’m so sorry. They do run a hotel, but until I met you it looked like going back to them was my only option.”
“What about your cottage?” asked Claire ignoring what I had just said.
“I own it, but it is a wreck. I have planning permission… permits you call them, to knock it down and build something new. That’s why I’ve been sleeping at an old friends place rather than at a hotel. We are in a ‘per-diem’ expenses allowance. I can spend up to a certain amount without receipts. When I get home, I will have enough money to do the next stage of the rebuild."
“Is your invitation for me to come with you still open?”
“It is but I can only offer what you people call a trailer home to live in until the build is done. It isn’t much and it isn’t very warm in winter but all being well, most of the new house will be delivered in January.”
“Delivered?”
“Yes, it is coming from Sweden as a kit of parts.”
“I don’t know?”
“About coming with me?”
“There is a little matter of a Visa. I am not exactly very employable. I don’t have a college degree to fall back on.”
“You have your music.”
"What are the job prospects for someone who can play classical music outside the big cities? Not good. Believe me, I have tried. Once they find out about my history they don't call back. Those orchestras are very conservative organisations. They rely on donations from even more conservative companies. Employing a transwoman is guaranteed to come out and they would suffer financially unless they let me go."
“I understand. Many of those big companies have been lobbying against the treaty that will come out of the work that I have been doing.”
“What are you going to do for a job once the new house is built?”
“The plot of land I own is just over 20 hectares. About 50 acres. It is an established smallholding but at the moment, it is managed by an retired farmer from the other end of the village.”
“Smallholding? As in a farm?”
“Yes.”
“But… I’m a New Yorker. I’m a city gal. The last bit of country I went to was a weekend at Niagara Falls.”
“Then we will both have a lot to learn.”
“Both? Learn?”
I smiled.
“It will be fun. “
Claire didn’t seem impressed. She got up and walked around. Her arms were constantly in motion. After a minute, I recognised that she was conducting the first movement to Beethoven’s Piano Concerto No 3. It is one of my top 10 favourite pieces of music. She was using the melody to concentrate her thoughts.
I smiled.
“Come on Claire take a risk. You took one when you became Claire and this time, you won’t be alone.”
She stopped conducting and sat down next to me.
“It is a big step… for both of us.”
“Then marry me. That will solve the visa problem.”
She screwed her eyes shut but said,
“Will there be room for at least a ‘baby grand’ in this new house of yours?”
“Not in the house but there is a large barn that was left over from when the smallholding was part of a much larger farm. In time, we could turn part of it into a recording studio."
“A recording studio?”
“Yes, finishing those compositions for you got my creative juices going again. With the changes you made we might even be able to record them and put them on YouTube.”
“You have certainly thought this through, haven’t you?”
I grinned and shook my head at the same time.
“All off the cuff I’m afraid. It just came out that way.”
“You are clearly good at thinking on your feet then?”
“Years of experience appearing before committees. You can’t be seen to be broadsided by a surprise question. That’s what got me chosen for this assignment which led me to meet you.”
“Are you pleased that you did?”
“Pleased? Claire, that is about the biggest understatement of the century. I want to share my life with you?”
“I need to think about this.”
I took her hand in mine.
“Why don’t you come with me to England and see what I have to offer. As I said, it won’t be much to begin with but I can show you the plans for my new house.”
Claire smiled.
“If we do turn the barn into a studio then this is the time to get the plans finalised.”
Her smile turned into a grin.
“But, I don’t have a passport.”
“What’s stopping you from getting one? Doesn’t New York allow you to change the sex on your birth certificate?”
“I’ve never needed one… until now.”
“Does that mean that you will come?”
“I do. I’ll come as soon as I can get a passport and sort out a flight.”
Derek leaned over and kissed Claire. He knew that they could make some great music together.
[the end]