John finds the body of a neighbour who has been murdered. The police detective assigned to the case deduces that John hides a secret - but the detective has secrets of her own.

Part 16 of 25 — Clubbing

Jane was on late shift that week so, on the Monday morning, we were able to have a shower and cuddle and a reasonably leisurely breakfast before I had to leave for work. It took a tremendous amount of will-power for me to be on time but I managed it, having torn myself away from Jane’s grasp.

~ O ~

In the office, I fielded numerous questions as to the condition of my father. I was pleased to report that there seemed to be no lasting damage and that he should be able to resume a full life in about a month or so. To Celia and Jill, I related the dramatic turnaround in my father’s acceptance of me: from his total antipathy on the Saturday morning to the acceptance of the afternoon of the same day. I also told them about the ruse dreamed up by my mum.

Jill said, “There must be some truth in it anyway because you’re so natural that I’m struggling to remember what you looked like before transition.”

I had taken my car that morning because I needed to shop for food when I finished work.

There’s got to be a better way to spend your time than fighting through hordes of people to get at left-over fruit, vegetable and salad items that look as though they’ve been lying on the shelf all day

I suspected that they had, and that made the exercise all the more frustrating. I determined to find out if one of the local supermarkets delivered to our door. If so, that would be one less reason to keep the car. I was getting quite comfortable with the idea of being without it, particularly as Jane would probably be available to drive me to those places I couldn’t get to by bus, train or taxi.

~ O ~

When I arrived home that evening, I picked up the letters from the doormat as usual. I then had to find somewhere to sit down because there was a letter from the clinic in London. I held it as though it was contaminated: was it a follow-up appointment or a letter saying that they wouldn’t treat me?

In the end, full of trepidation, I opened it. I breathed a sigh of relief. It was an appointment for September 16th. I realised that I’d been nervously shaking but then my relief faded, to be replaced again by anxiety as I wondered if they just called you to the clinic to tell you that you had failed their criteria or if they wanted to delay even more. I tried to put it out of my mind and concentrate on my work but it kept gnawing away at me all week and, by the Saturday morning, I was still far from euphoric.

~ O ~

Jane had been busy all week, so she elected to stay at Masefield House. She said that it allowed her to pursue the matter of housing and, by the time that Saturday came, she’d not only looked at the details of several properties but also decided which of her possessions she wanted to keep. As this was to be a joint home, however, she wanted to talk to me about her plans.

It was obvious when she arrived, that I was somewhat preoccupied.

“What’s the matter, love?” she asked.

I showed her the letter.

“When did this arrive?”

“On Monday.”

“And you’ve waited until now to talk to me about it. Why?”

“I’m so worried that they might reject me, and then you wouldn’t want me.”

Jane looked as though she was about to tear into me for not confiding in her earlier, but could see that I was on the verge of tears. “Come here.” Her greeting dispelled most of the ideas I had about her getting fed up with me. “Do you remember what I told you shortly after we met?”

“Well, y…yes, but...”

“Wait; let me finish. I told you then that you are the woman that I love. Nothing’s changed; if anything, I love you more than ever. You have very quickly become one of the most beautiful people that I’ve ever met and, unless you have any objection, I’d like to spend the rest of my life with you.”

I was so happy and reassured that I cried.

She continued. “You may also recall my saying that you were to tell me if you had any problems. I may not have an instant solution but it’s often true what they say; “A problem shared is a problem halved”. Now you’ve three weeks to get your mind around this: if they don’t soon treat you on the NHS (National Health Service), you’ll go private.”

“It’s all very well for you to say that,” I sniffled, “But I’m the one who has to find the money.”

“Not necessarily, there are ways and means. Look, just wait three weeks; what harm can it do? If you don’t get a satisfactory answer from the clinic, then we go back to Judy and tell her to push for the private route. One way or another, my darling, you are going to be the woman that you and I both want you to be and I’ll not have some two-bit quack telling us otherwise. Now, do you feel any better?”

“Yes, I suppose so,” I said as we cuddled and worked out what we were going to do for the weekend.

Jane looked as if she had something on her mind; I didn’t have long to wait to find out what it was.

“I’ve been looking into buying a new home. I’ve looked at one in the development off The Avenue. If we went for something like one of those, a first floor, four-bedroom place would do. It’s quite a bit bigger than this, larger even than my present apartment and still within walking distance of your office. There’s plenty of room for us, an en-suite master bedroom, a decent sized lounge, a family bathroom, most of the appliances we need already fitted into the kitchen, a room that would make a great study, decent sized guest rooms and, very important, a balcony.”

Even I laughed at this and Jane looked pleased that I seemed to be coming out of my despondent phase. I said, “I’ll just bet that you’ve got this vision of a waitress in a Bunny outfit bringing you your Pina Colada in the summer, haven’t you?”

“Guilty as charged; and I know just the woman to wear the Bunny outfit.”

Suddenly I was sad. “You know as well as I do that I couldn’t wear an outfit like that, I’ve still got something that most bunny girls don’t have.”

“That flattens down to nothing. Anyway, you’ll lose it soon.”

“You’ll get fed up with me before then and start looking for a real woman with whom you can have a proper relationship.”

She cuddled me very tightly: I was sure that she could feel the tension in my body. “That letter has really upset you, hasn’t it?”

I nodded, beginning to choke up with tears again and she realised just how depressed I had been for the past week.

We kissed for several minutes and, eventually, she took my hand and led me to the bedroom. There she tried to make sure, within the anatomical constraints imposed by my body, that I was as certain of her love for me as I ever could be.

~ O ~

Jane decided that another totally idle weekend was called for. She had been very busy; her new job was occupying a fair amount of her time. This was mainly due to the work that went into building a team and learning all about each other - well, as much as anyone wanted to tell, anyway.

As the weather was set fair, she took me to Winchester on the Saturday to begin the mammoth task of equipping us both with a new winter wardrobe. In my case, other than a few items from my past, it was to be my first one. We therefore had the novelty of seeing just which winter colours would suit me. We had lunch overlooking the river and, once again, came home laden with bags of goodies.

~ O ~

She had reserved a table at a restaurant about which she’d heard good reports. I was instructed to put on my glad-rags and get ready for a night on the town. The restaurant was run by a Greek couple and served authentic Greek food. The Taramosalata, Moussaka, and Baklava were an absolute must and, occasionally, customers were entertained by the host and his friends, all of whom played Bouzoukis. Patrons were encouraged to dance, yell, clap and generally enter into the spirit of things. We didn’t disappoint.

Then it came time to seriously dance off those calories and Jane drove us to the Magnum Club. I was a little worried about getting hit on by men when we were out in public but Jane just laughed and put me at ease.

“Darling, The Magnum advertises itself as the South of England’s premiá¨re gay venue. We are a gay couple; you are my girlfriend. If anyone does hit on you, and she’s not me, she’ll end up with at least a slapped face. Believe me, this is one place where you don’t have to worry about being harassed by men, they’re very unlikely to be interested.”

Jane was a member of the club but hadn’t been since she had met me. She showed her card to the doorman, paid the cover charge and we walked in. The club occupied two floors and had three bars: being a Saturday night it was very crowded. I was amazed by the relaxed atmosphere but didn’t have time to do much in the way of looking around as Jane made very sure that all the other women there knew that I was spoken for.

“It’s just great to be able to kiss you when I like and dance close with you,” she told me, then proceeded to do both — often.

We had a wonderful time and I quickly became caught up in the newness of it all. I was introduced as her girlfriend and totally accepted. We danced until two in the morning and left the club with a group of friends that Jane knew from previous visits.

“I enjoyed this evening so much, thank you. I just never knew that such places existed,” I told her as we left the other girls and walked hand in hand back towards the car, “How come you’ve never taken me there before?”

“I didn’t think you were ready for that kind of experience until tonight.”

I thought for a moment. “I can understand that; I was never a sociable animal and wouldn’t have even thought of going to a pub or club, especially on my own.”

She nodded, smiling.

“Anyway, how can I possibly repay you for such a lovely evening?” I asked, my lips turning into a hint of a smile.

“Oh, I’m sure I’ll think of something,” she laughed, conspiratorially.

We had just crossed the road when three men, who had been lounging against a wall, glanced at each other, grinned, then levered themselves upright and lurched towards us.

“’Ello darlins’! Wot ‘ave you two gorgeous chicks been doin’ in the Magnum? Orl on yer own, are yer?”

“No,” Jane responded warily to the voice.

It was unduly loud and, although I was a bit frightened, I wondered why alcohol raised the volume of the voice.

“Yer ain’t bin in there wiv yer boyfriends, ‘ave yer?” Voice said with certainty, “Yer shouldn’t be wiv no poofs, yer need prop’a men to show yer a good time and it looks like it’s ar turn.”

Voice’s accomplices appeared to be the worse for wear and were trying to stop falling into the road. Jane didn’t wait for Voice to make the first move; she simply approached him, grabbed him by the lapels of his denim jacket, head butted him on the nose, and kneed him somewhere where his thoughts of a night of bliss were painfully dispelled. Voice’s accomplices were still trying to hold themselves upright so Jane’s well-aimed foot dealt similarly with them, just to take their minds off what they might have been planning. She quickly pulled me along to distance us from the three men.

She glanced at me as I tried to run and said, “I’m sorry that you had to experience that; I can’t honestly say that it was the first time girls have been accosted when leaving that club, but it’s never before happened to me.”

I was starting to become hysterical but, by then, we had reached the car; she quickly opened the door and pushed me inside. Running around to the other side, she got in, shut the door and locked them both. She started the engine, drove for a few minutes and then stopped. Turning to me, she said, with feeling, “Darling, I am so sorry; the last thing I wanted to happen tonight was anything like that. I love you very much and just wanted you to have a memorable evening.”

“Please, just take me home,” I sobbed.

When we walked in, I headed straight for the bedroom and undressed, then went to the bathroom in silence, removed my makeup and took care of my nightly routine. When I returned, Jane was still standing in the middle of the room, looking very forlorn. I put my arms around her neck and kissed her passionately. “Come on; come to bed, but can you just hold me?” I pleaded.

She gently stroked my face and gently kissed me until I fell into an exhausted and disturbed sleep.

~ O ~

Sunday morning saw a very subdued household. I’d not entirely recovered from the previous night’s incident; I’d relived the confrontation in my dreams and, although Jane said that I didn’t cry out, I was very restive. I eventually fell into a deep sleep in the early hours of the morning and woke only when Jane brought me some tea and toast at about ten o’clock.

I apologised to her. “I’m so sorry I made a fool of myself last night.”

“You’re sorry? I’m the one to apologise. I’m supposed to be protecting you and then those idiots go and spoil our evening out. Listen, girl, I need you and I love you very much. You are the light of my life and I will be damned if some drunken control freak is going to upset you and get away with it.”

Her little speech helped to dispel the feeling of gloom, and I smiled. “I don’t think you did a bad job of protecting me - I suspect those creeps will remember that evening for some time to come. I just wonder why men have to behave like that.”

“They deserved it; but very few men are that stupid. From my experience, testosterone and alcohol can be a volatile mixture; they often see it down at the nick, especially at weekends.”

“Well, I’m very pleased that I have my own personal bodyguard.”

“You deserve it. You are very beautiful.”

“So you keep telling me, I can’t see why.”

“I’m going to nag you until you accept it. Perhaps your mother was right.”

“What?”

“Perhaps there is a medical reason; perhaps it is more than a slight hormone imbalance.”

I snuggled in really close. “Hmm, that’s so nice, I feel better now.”

“Thank goodness! My mind was going over all the things that you might do — including going back to being John.”

I shuddered. “Not likely. I never was John and, hopefully, I’ll never have to act the part again. I’m so much happier now.”

“And so am I, my love.”

“I know that there are those in society for whom anything that doesn’t fit in with their narrow views is wrong. I even had a father like that. But I don’t really care. This is me and other people can like it or lump it.”

“Well said. Now, where were we?” She asked as she enfolded me in a hug.

“It’s nearly lunchtime,” I said sometime later, as I glanced at the clock.

“I don’t have to move; my lunch is here.”

“You are insatiable.”

“So you keep saying.” She continued from where she was interrupted.

When we eventually surfaced we had brunch, then we decided on a quiet stroll in the park.

Later, after a ham salad, Jane said, “You know, I’m convinced that you could even make bread and butter exciting.”

I blushed.

September 2004

I couldn’t stay sad for long. Firstly, it wasn’t now in my nature to do so and, secondly, Jane wouldn’t allow it.

The next couple of weeks went by very quickly. We managed a visit to the cinema but, as Jane was caught up with work during the week, our time together was mainly limited to the weekends.

I again finished work early as it was my hair and beautician appointment today. My hair was now a little longer and David asked if I wanted to try another style. He had some ideas and showed me some pictures in one of the magazines in the waiting area. Many of the models were auburn-haired and I looked through the magazine for a few minutes. Not being able to decide, I borrowed the magazine so that I could show Jane and we could decide together, perhaps for next time. David also suggested that I consider some copper highlights and pointed to a couple of photos that explained what he meant. I told him to go ahead; I was delighted with the result.

Then it was downstairs for my regular treatment. While Gaynor was working, she gave a blow-by-blow account of her recent holiday in Turkey. I told her of the meeting with my parents and how my father seemed to accept the idea that there was a medical explanation.

Gaynor said, “Well, you’re not the only one in your situation that is a client of this salon. I do have to say, though, that you are one of the most beautiful of them all and, if I didn’t know, I’d never connect.”

~ O ~

Celia and her husband Philip invited us to lunch and we spent a very pleasant day in their company.

“Does Philip know…?” I began to ask, as Celia welcomed us.

She smiled a greeting and relieved me of the bowl of salad that I was carrying. “Of course, and he’s looking forward to meeting you.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t worry, love, you’re a knockout. And where did you get that dress? It’s gorgeous!”

I replied, “Jane and I did Winchester a few weeks ago. There’s this boutique I found when I went with my mother and they have such lovely dresses. I saw this and just had to have it.”

She said, “I know the feeling; they have your name on them and, when you glance in the shop window, they call to you; “You need me! You need me!”

We all laughed and, after giving us both a hug, she invited us in to meet Philip, who stood and whistled. “Wow! Three gorgeous women to entertain, how will I manage?”

Celia playfully swatted him. “He’s always like this, but he’s a sweetie really; very pliable.”

“Pliable?” I asked.

“Yes, he fits really well around my little finger.”

The three of us sat while he made pre-lunch drinks. He was very attentive to Celia, and it was clear how much they loved each other.

As it was such a warm day and autumn hadn’t really had a chance to begin, we spent the afternoon in the garden. We were all happy to just sit and relax on the patio; Philip and Jane supervised the barbecue, Celia provided drinks from time to time and my special exotic salad was very well received. Conversation flowed naturally and easily and, other than Philip and Jane asking about each others’ jobs, we all managed to avoid talking shop.

Philip was an estate agent and was inevitably interested in Jane’s proposed house move, but they didn’t stay on the subject for long and soon progressed to other topics. After a brief discussion over the barbecue about what she was looking for, he offered to keep her informed about any likely properties that came up and also agreed to value her apartment, should she want to sell or let it.

All too soon, it was time to leave and, after hugs and thanking our hosts, Jane drove us both back home via her place. She checked that all was well but was determined to move out soon. Firstly, of course, she needed to discuss it with her partner.

~ O ~

The day of the second clinic appointment was upon us and Jane had again arranged leave of absence from work.

On the way from the station to the clinic, Jane said, casually, “The last time I had to go to a hospital, I got in the lift and a man pushed in a big machine with lots of hoses and dials on it. I said, “I don’t think that I’d like to be connected to that machine.” The man said, “Neither would I, Miss, it’s a carpet cleaner.””

I laughed and said, “Your jokes just get worse.”

She hugged me and smiled as she continued to hold my hand.

~ O ~

I really hoped that I’d be able to start hormones this time — and I hoped that I wouldn’t have to see Ian Stalbridge. I took extra care with my makeup and chose to wear the peach-coloured, round-necked top and the cream linen skirt suit. Jane wore jeans, aqua tee top and a black biker jacket. We again went by train; I was getting rather used to first-class travel and wasn’t looking forward at all to the times when I might have to settle for less. I still couldn’t figure out how she could afford it, but didn’t like to upset her by asking.

As it was an afternoon appointment, we had lunch at a little Italian restaurant that Jane had spotted during the previous visit.

As we were waiting for our coffees, she said, “Have you heard the one about the Norse God of War?”

I smiled and gently shook my head. I knew we were heading for another of her terrible jokes.

“The Norse God of War was walking about on the Earth one day, quite bored, when he espied a comely young maiden. As he was good-looking, she quickly decided to let him have his wicked way with her. In the morning, after a night of passion the like of which she hadn’t experienced before or since, he decided to reveal his identity. “I’m Thor,” he said. “You’re thor?” she exclaimed. “I’m tho thor I can hardly pith.”

I dutifully laughed; it did relieve some of my tension, particularly as I found myself having the odd chuckle throughout the afternoon.

Jane purchased a magazine in the kiosk and waited in the garden while I went to see the doctor.

I was anxious as I checked in at reception, but was relieved to find that Doctor Irene Cross wanted to see me. There were four other people in the waiting area; the session that afternoon was for follow-up patients only and I quickly glanced around at the others. I thought that, if they were all transgender, one of them would have trouble passing but the others seemed quite natural. One of the passable ones occupied the seat next to me and quickly introduced herself.

“Hi, I’m Joanna, are you waiting for a friend?”

I laughed. “Hello, I’m Jenny and I’m waiting to see Doctor Cross: do you know what she’s like?”

Joanna’s jaw dropped. “Oh, sorry, I thought that you were waiting for someone else. Are you…”

“I’m transgender, I think, though I’m not sure; I might be intersexed.”

“Crikey,” said Joanna, with unveiled jealousy. “I’d kill for a bone structure like yours and your complexion is flawless. Have you had electrolysis and facial surgery?”

“No, I didn’t need either, and thank you for the compliment.” I felt very pleased at her reaction to me, “But you have such gorgeous, expressive eyes.”

“Have you a boyfriend?”

“No, a girlfriend,” I admitted.

“You’ve a girlfriend? A female partner?”

“Yes, she has helped me tremendously.”

“Well don’t tell this lot; they might not help you if you aren’t straight, particularly Ian Stalbridge, he’s very much into stereotypes.”

“Don’t worry, I may be fairly new to this but I do know to watch what I say.”

We complimented each other on our outfits and Joanna said, “I’ve seen Irene Cross before; she’s okay, not like Ian Stalbridge, who thinks the sun shines out of his own backside.”

I smiled. “Yes, I saw him last time. I told him that I’d transitioned, that I had a job and that I had a hormone imbalance. He still seemed to think that I ought to go through the mill.”

“That’s okay up to a point,” responded Joanna, “But one size doesn’t fit all. We’re still human beings and all different; I think they sometimes lose sight of that fact. So how long have you…? When did you…?”

“I’ve been dressing at home for a few years but I came out in March. I legally became me on the first of June, and resumed work on the first of July; my employer supported me all the way.”

“Wow, I’m impressed. Mind you, if you hadn’t been waiting for Irene Cross and told me about your situation, I’d never have guessed.”

Just then, Joanna was called in to see Ian Stalbridge and I was left to pick up a magazine from the pile on a little table. She emerged fifteen minutes later with a triumphant grin. “I’ve got the hormones at last.” Then she added with a sad little smile, “I’ve only been waiting a year.”

I was downcast; I didn’t want to contemplate another nine months before I started hormones. Then, of course, there’s the interminable wait for surgery. I felt that I would have to seriously consider the private route.

~ O ~

I’d read most of the magazine and had learned about the latest fashions, hairstyles, makeup and nail colours — well, the latest a year ago when the magazine was printed. In desperation I searched in my bag for a pen and was about to tackle the crossword when my name was called. I gratefully stood and walked over to the door, smiling nervously at the doctor as I walked past her into the room.

Irene Cross was something of a surprise. She looked to be in her mid-thirties, was slim but very tall, maybe even as tall as Jane. She had dark brown hair to her waist, brown eyes and a ready smile. I immediately felt comfortable with her and relaxed straight away.

“Hello, Jenny, I’m Irene Cross,” she said, brightly, after we were seated in her office. “What have you been up to since you saw Ian Stalbridge?”

I replied, “I’m doing well at work and my father seems to have finally come to accept that he has a son and a daughter, not two sons as he first thought. And I have a new GP.”

Irene nodded. “Hmm, I’ve the report which Ian Stalbridge wrote after your previous visit. I also have the reports from Judy Davenport. There seems to be no reason for more delay and, ordinarily, I’d be prescribing a normal dose of hormones for you. However, I’d like further tests by an endocrinologist to try and find out why you don’t seem to match what we’d expect to see from someone of your age and apparent birth gender. I know that you’ve already had some tests but I’d like to see another set of results. I’d like to see if there’s a pattern or a trend.”

I made to say something but Irene Cross interrupted me. “Tell me about your new GP.”

“Doctor Carter was not at all helpful, but now I’m with Sally Ruskin at the same medical centre. She’s so different. Her face seems to light up when I go in to see her; it’s as if she’s really glad to see me.”

Doctor Cross made a note of the name of the new GP and then said, “I can understand that. Family doctors see only routine cases most of the time; and “Hello Doctor, I feel ill” can wear thin very quickly.

“You, not to put too fine a point on it, are something different and challenging and, if I were a GP, I’d be delighted to have you on my books.”

“Oh,” I said, then lapsed into silence, as I didn’t know how to respond to that.

“What I would like to do,” she said, after a little thought, “Is to ask your GP to refer you to an endocrinologist as soon as possible — that’s assuming she hasn’t already done so. The endo can then carry out further tests and let us know what’s going on in that body of yours. I’ll ask Doctor Ruskin to prescribe oestrogen once you’ve seen the endo. I’ll write to her and tell her what levels I’d like to see; she’ll monitor them and adjust the dose accordingly. How does that sound?”

“That’s wonderful,” I enthused. “My mother found out that a certain film star was born with male genitalia but didn’t develop properly at puberty; she said it was something like the body not processing testosterone. She wondered if something similar had happened to me.”

Irene replied, “That’s what we need the endocrinologist to find out for us. Looking at you, it’s hard to see you having been a normal male at birth, so perhaps there’s some substance to the idea.”

Irene gave me a similar note to that provided by Judy Davenport, the one detailing her diagnosis and stating that I was transsexual.

I queried this.

“It’s easier than putting ‘a possible hormone imbalance or something we’re not sure about until we do more tests’. I’ll write to Doctor Ruskin and ask her to take over the supply of hormones so that you won’t have to wait until you come up to London.”

I thanked her and walked out with a spring in my step.

Jane was waiting for me in reception and I excitedly smiled and waved the letter. “I’m on my way at last,” I said, as we hugged.

“You’ve been on your way, as you put it, since you were born. It’s nice that the medical profession are supportive at last.”

I almost skipped out of the hospital and Jane had to restrain me.

“I know you’re happy, love, but you don’t want the men in white coats to think you’ve gone round the bend, do you?”

“No, but I’m so happy I could burst.”

“Wait until you get home: I’m sure I can think of a way to deal with all that energy you seem to have.”

“Really?” I smirked.

“Yes, I didn’t get where I am today, etcetera, etcetera.”

We laughed as, arms linked, we made our way to the clinic’s café for a drink, then to the tube station and home.

Jane thought that we should order a take-away: I wanted to go out for dinner to celebrate but Jane claimed tiredness and said that she’d rather stay in. I glanced at her but said nothing and found the menus from the local pizza place and the Chinese. We opted for pizza.

~ O ~

I woke at my usual time and padded to the bathroom. I returned and saw Jane still in bed.

“Don’t you have any work this morning?” I asked.

“No and neither do you.”

“What?”

End of part 16