Choices Choices Chapter 3 Changes

“Oh no!” I thought, gazing at my reflection in the full length mirror “They’ve turned me into Anne of Green Gables!”

I hadn’t really had time to think of what I looked like for the past few months. A mass of fevers and growing pains had gripped me and kept me confined to bed in semi-delirium as the gene therapy converted my Y chromosomes to X chromosomes and my body started to reshape itself accordingly. Consequently I’d had little thought for anything besides fever dreams and exhaustion, but now, staring at my lightly freckled face, framed by a mass of wavy red hair held back with a green ribbon, big blue eyes staring out at the world in astonishment, the resemblance was unmistakeable.

Of course, the clothes helped – a long, turn of the century dress with puffed sleeves and ruffles, trim little pixy boots with a slight heel and a straw hat adorned with flowers around the brim. The dress was modestly buttoned up to the frilled collar but couldn’t hide my new figure in its corset , which part of me, incidentally, was still suffering growing pains. Maybe I was as much Christina Hendricks as Anne. Either way it was frightening. I think a bit of me had still been convinced it couldn’t be done, that try as they might the government institute in charge of my transition could never turn me into a girl. Well, so much for that theory. I shifted uncomfortably. This was one of the very few times I’d been dressed in anything other than a hospital gown since my induction began and I couldn’t see how anyone could ever get used to it. Stockings, frilly knickers, two petticoats, a dress –arghh! Just arrghh!

There was no help for it though. Today was the day I was going to meet Ephraim Holman, the pioneer settler whose parents had bought me for him, for the very first time. With a sigh I looked around the room I had been assigned as my own only a couple of days ago. I had everything I needed; no more excuses. I crossed to the door and said “I’m ready.”.

Wordlessly the orderly outside led the way to the restaurant/tea room provided for the transformees such as myself to meet guests from the outside world. Awaiting me there was a long, lean man, dressed in clean jeans and a heavy cotton shirt. Even more than in his photo he looked like a younger version of the late John Brown.

“Ruth!” He clasped both my hands in his and planted a kiss on my cheek “It’s good to meet you at last.” I could feel myself go bright red. It was a friendly enough greeting, and considering I was a bought chattel bride I could hardly complain that it was over-familiar. Nevertheless I found it deeply embarrassing, not least because it was a reminder of what I was in for unless I could escape. Even women who had legal rights got handled a lot more than men, and I had no rights at all. Technically Ephraim would have been within his rights to throw me on the floor and take me on the spot. Suddenly I was glad of the ridiculous outfit I was wearing. The heavy duty petticoats might slow him down a little. I cast my eyes down in embarrassment and fear and said

“Pleased to meet you too Sir” I bobbed a curtsey the way I’d been told to, but I hadn’t practiced so I probably looked like a goose trying to do calisthenics.

“Now, Ruth, I want you to call me Ephraim. “ he rasped in an accent I couldn’t quite place, but which I reckoned would be ideal if you were casting a remake of ‘The Grapes of Wrath’

“Yes, Ephraim” I managed to say through a throat that had somehow gone tight and dry.

“Please look at me, Ruth.” A hand very gently took me by the small rounded chin that was all that was left of my once manly jaw and tilted my face upwards. For a moment I was afraid I was going to be kissed properly and my breath caught as I met his intense dark eyes.

“Ruth, and I hope you’ll come to be happy with that name, Ruth I can’t pretend to imagine how hard things seem for you right now. I know everything you ever were has been taken away. I know you’ve been assigned to a new life without so much as a by your leave and that that new life would be incredibly strange even to most women – in fact just about all women unless they’ve been raised Amish.”

I nodded wordlessly. I still didn’t trust my voice.

“I know you weren’t a woman and you don’t want to be one. I didn’t cause that and I couldn’t have helped you. I want to help you make the best of things now. So for our first meeting I want us to talk properly. All I ask from you is that you’ll answer my questions honestly and I promise I’ll be honest with you. Deal?”

“OK,” I managed

“So did you deliberately set out to look like Anne of Green Gables this morning, or is it just the way it turned out?”

I choked on a half-hysterical giggle and Ephraim laughed with me – before looking alarmed and patting me vigorously on the back.

“I’m OK, I’m OK, “ I managed to splutter through my laughter “It’s just – that’s exactly who I thought of when I saw my reflection this morning. No it wasn’t deliberate, I think you just can’t avoid it if you’ve got red hair and freckles and dress this way. “

“And a pretty nose” Ephraim interjected “Don’t forget people remarked on her pretty nose as well.”

“Thank you, I think. Anyway, you can’t talk; you look just like John Brown.”

“Old Ossawatomie Brown the abolitionist? Hanged for trying to free slaves? I surely should, he’s kin to us on my mother’s side. One of my childhood heroes. Thank you Ruth, that’s about the nicest thing you could have said to me on first acquaintance.” Ephraim smiled at me broadly. “Come on, let’s go to the cottage where we can relax and talk in privacy.”

“Cottage??”

“Sure. The one for, well, I guess you’d call them conjugal visits. A place where the girls here can spend a day or a weekend getting to know…they didn’t tell you did they? Here, sit down, you look white as a sheet.”

I half sat, half fell on to a chair. What a fool I was. They hadn’t told me, but I should have guessed they wouldn’t waste any time getting me used to my new role in life.

“Ruth, Ruth come with me, I’m going to take you to the cottage where I can take care of you. “ I bet “Now don’t you take on so, I promise you, there’s nothing to fear.”
Easy for you to say I thought but kept the thought to myself. Instead I let him help me to my feet and lead me away by the hand. Holding a man’s hand helped me walk in my first ever heels but also freaked me a little, especially seeing how pale and dainty my small fingers looked in his massive sunburned paw, but I supposed it was something I was just going to have to get used to. I was a girl and men could hold my hand. Much worse, I was a chattel and I was about to be conjugated!

That thought left me a little shaky, legs trembling and tummy doing flip flops. I didn’t say a word as Ephraim led me across a green field, like a high school recreation ground, towards a little cluster of homes.

When we arrived Ephraim did a strange thing. He carefully scanned the door lintel and then removed a little something from where the door met the door jamb. It was a hair!

“What was that for?”

“Shh. Come on in and I’ll tell you.”

So I did. Inside the little cottage was furnished much in the fashion of the new frontier. There were a few electrical devices, but the iron stove and the big old fireplace were the obvious sources of heat and the oil lamps were the obvious sources of light. Obviously the conjugal visits were to get us used to our future role as domestic serfs as well as bedwarmers. A big scrubbed pine table dominated the room and Ephraim gently guided me to it and pulled out a chair for me on to which Ingratefully sank.

“Coffee?” He said, picking up a pot from the stove.

“Please.”

I wrapped my hands around the warm mug gratefully and surveyed Ephraim from across the table. He didn’t seem to be a monster, at least, in fact he seemed kindly and considerate on first meeting, but I’d known him less than ten minutes and there was still plenty of time for that to change.

“So tell me, Ruth. You’ve been here six months now. Have they told you much about what happens from now.”

“They haven’t had much time. I’ve only been up for three days. I know that I’m anatomically and genetically female now. I’ve been told there’s still time for me to get bigger or smaller, slimmer or softer in certain areas, but basically I’m finished. I’ve been told I have no rights of any kind for as long as my sentence lasts except that it’s still murder to kill me, and that my sentence is lifelong. Chattel slavery was the word they used. I know that the plan is that I should be a wife, rather than a maid of all work, but that doesn’t make any difference to my rights. They made me watch a black and white film called ‘The Devil and Daniel Webster’ to show me what a proper wife should act like.”

“And what did she act like?”

“Well her husband sold his soul to the Devil, alienated everyone they’d ever known, took up with another woman, built a big new house so he could move his fancy woman into it and she still stuck by him with never a cross word. I’m not sure if she was a saint or a doormat. “

“Think you can do that.”

“I – I can try.” One of the things they’d also told us was that a man was entitled to beat his wife in the colonies with a stick not thicker than his thumb. My new lord and Master’s thumb looked pretty thick and I felt very fragile.

Ephraim smiled at me. “You don’t have to. I’ve seen that film too. She was a good woman, but her husband didn’t deserve her. I’ve always thought she should have left if only for the sake of the child. She could always have come back if he repented. Listen Ruth, I’m an abolitionist, so are both my parents. My great-grandparents were in the Underground Railroad – to hear my grandparents tell it they used to run slaves across the border playing tig with the paterrollers twice a week. If we could free you and let you go back to your life we would, but it isn’t allowed. You’d be picked up inside a week. Being under my authority is part of your sentence, otherwise I’d let you walk out the doors of this compound now. Besides, things have gotten a lot worse even since your arrest. It isn’t really the USA out there any more.. It’s Trumpland now, even though the rumours say he’s dead and his crazy advisers are running the country. It isn’t a safe place for any one, let alone a woman without legal rights. That’s why I’m getting out, going to the colonies. The government has a hard enough time keeping the original owners away; settlers there are left to govern their own lives. It’s a chance to make something decent out of the wreck this place has become.”

I was cringing with terror and astonishment

“Bugs! There are bugs all round this institute! Oh please hush, they might not have heard you” I prayed not. What Ephraim had said was quite enough under the Presidential Defamation Act to get him put where I was – if he was lucky!

Ephraim’s slow smile spread across that lantern jaw of his.

“Just because I’m a redneck, doesn’t make me stupid. I swept for bugs and cleared them all when I came to this cottage earlier this morning. The hair on the door jamb was just in case I’d had visitors while I came to collect you.”

“So, you’re saying-“ I paused, not wanting to smash my hopes by uttering them aloud

“I’m saying the minute we hit the colonies you’re a free woman. You want to stake out your own homestead, make a dash across the border, anything, you can go right ahead.”

“But – but – your parents letter”

“My parents would very much like you to become a good Christian wife to me, but they hold no marriage is valid without a real, genuine choice. That locket you’re wearing is a gift, not a shackle.

Now let me tell you the downside. Out there pretty much the only jobs going are farmer or craftsman, cook or domestic servant. I’ve been out there this last six months breaking ground and building a snug little cabin for us. I seriously doubt you’d be strong enough to be a farmer, or a blacksmith or a cooper, not the way you are now. You just won’t have the physical strength. Sexual division of labour makes sense in a situation like that, especially when domestic chores are so time consuming. To give just one example, in an old fashioned farm if you don’t keep the kitchen sparkling clean you will get food poisoning mighty fast and out there a family mostly has to make its own soap. One person can’t plough and clear land and do that at the same time. So it’s very unlikely you would be able to find a job which isn’t some version of a wife’s chores, without the freedom a wife has of knowing she works for herself and her family instead of an employer.
So…you could share my home and keep it and we could live as brother and sister.”

“Or?” I said, breath still a little tight from the shock of all this

“Or, Ruth, you could marry me and I would be pleased and proud to make you my own.”

“I – I Ephraim, I like you, really I do, even though I’ve only known you ten minutes, and I know my options are narrower now but – but I don’t know if I can be a wife. I don’t know-“ I paused, twisting my hands nervously together on my lap “I don’t know if I can do what a good wife does. And I don’t mean cooking, or sewing, or churning butter. Do you know what I mean?”

“Yes, I know exactly what you mean.”

“And?”

“And you’re blushing, which I think is very sweet and a good start.”

“Oh my God! I mean, oh my goodness, I mean I’m sorry, I don’t want to offend you.”

My hands flew to my flushed cheeks. Clever I chided myself the man offers to get you out of slavery and you spit on his beliefs by blaspheming in front of him

“Don’t worry, I do prefer ‘Oh my Goodness’ but everyone is responsible for their own soul. I’m not going to try to tell you how to talk.”

“Well, I’ll try to stick with ‘Oh my Goodness’ anyway. “

“Back to the topic. What did they tell you here at the centre about it?”

They haven’t told us much yet, but there were two manuals. One was from the medical people. They said that in some cases the transition itself seemed to change people’s sexuality, but in most cases it left people - confused. The manual said that the first..um..experience after transition tended to fix er preferences, for good or ill. Like chicks imprinting, you know? Mostly. Some people never adapt.”

I was blushing furiously now and Ephraim’s grin said he was enjoying my discomposure.

“What did the other manual say?”

“Lie back and think of Jesus.”

Ephraim burst out laughing and my tenseness dissolved into a fit of – oh crap, they were giggles. Somehow, when the laughter stopped we were holding hands across the table and smiling at each other. My hand looked tiny and delicate in his. Looking at him I decided I’d better get used to being smaller. Let’s face it I was the little woman, in every sense of the word.

“I have a suggestion. “

“What is it?”

“I promise you’ll leave this house a virgin, but there are plenty of other things I can do to you. I propose I do them, slowly, carefully, stopping if you get scared. By tomorrow you should have a better idea of whether you can be a wife. What do you think?”

I looked down at the floor, face burning

“I think” I squeaked Crap, I can’t even talk properly “I think we should try it.”

I felt my hand being squeezed gently and heard the creak as he got up from the old wooden chair. My eyes were still firmly fixed on the floor. An enormous, warm, calloused palm gently cupped my face. A butterfly kiss on my forehead sent a strange tingle through me and I realised I was shaking. I closed my eyes, and felt his warm, rough skinned hands cup my face and thread themselves into my hair. Soft kisses landed on my closed eyelids. Then I felt my face being tilted up and his lips met mine. I was still terrified and kept my mouth firmly closed. He seemed to accept that and dropped gentle little kisses along the line of my pursed lips. I seemed wildly sensitive as if fear was sending thrills along my nerves. My face burned where his hands touched me. His mouth seemed to leave a distinct impression wherever it touched my face and lips. Somehow the situation seemed both new and terrifying and oddly familiar. Then I realised where the familiarity came from. My first girlfriend had been a shy, nervous virgin too. Now the shy virgin girl was me. I was the curves, my partner was the angles, I was the smooth, he was the stubbled, I was the one trying to make sure things went slowly, he was the one working to get me out of my dress, I was the soft, he was the - ei yei yei!.

Ephraim’s arm was around me now, he was crouched down by the chair where I still huddled, terrified hands clutching each other. Well, that was hardly fair. He was bending over backwards to be nice to me, the least I could do was not sabotage matters. With an effort of will I put my arms around him. He seemed very warm and very, very broad and his strong well made frame felt odd in my arms after years of embracing girls. It made me feel slighter and more fragile yet just to touch him in this way. Of course, he was reciprocating, but more easily. One arm was quite enough to wrap me up the other was carefully pulling the bow on my long hair and as the knot came loose I felt it cascade forward around my face. It didn’t seem to bother him, he was undistracted from his kissing of me, but one hand idly stroked my hair for a moment, before moving down my upper back.

For a moment I wanted to laugh. I knew where he was going next. Sure enough, that hand worked its way, carefully, slowly, taking a few minutes to do it, down to brush the top of my buttocks, just the way I had done seducing my first serious girlfriend. Granted my bottom was guarded by the thickness of a dress, two petticoats and some very substantial knickers, this was still a little scary and I opened my mouth to say so. That was my first mistake. Ephraim’s lips worked against mine and his tongue darted into my mouth, stifling my little squeak of nerves. He caught my lower lip between both of his and worked away at it. I shuddered, but realised I had to let him continue. I’d agreed to find out if I could be a wife, I certainly couldn’t if I couldn’t bear to let him kiss me properly.

Besides, he was really rather good at it. I was starting to have trouble distinguishing between the thrills of fear and …something else. Every nerve in my body was alert, thrumming with electricity. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to carry on or run away.

But Ephraim was in no hurry. Now he’d got my mouth open he went to work in earnest, claiming me with lips and tongue. Meanwhile one hand traced feather light touches on my bottom and lower back, while the other kept me firmly in his grasp. We might have stayed like that for half an hour or more before he pulled back.

“Huh?” I said stupidly, looking up at him. My eyes were a little unfocused with being closed so long and my brain felt a little unfocused as well.

“I’m getting a cramp crouching here,“ smiled Ephraim

“Oh.” I replied. I was a little relieved and …wait, surely I couldn’t be disappointed? Was he really going to stop there? Was I that bad a kisser? Next minute I was being carried in Ephraim’s arms.

“Time for us to go upstairs.”

My terror returned. I was a girl, a man was taking me to his bedroom and I already knew it wasn’t to look at his etchings

“Don’t look so scared, little petal. I promise I’m going to take things real slow, so as not to scare you.”

I noticed he’d already decided he was in charge. Well, I suppose that was accurate enough. In law I was his belonging. I’d known that for a while but borne effortlessly in his arms up the stairs I felt it on a deeper level than I had before. Also, little petal?? Was that sweet or annoying? Probably both I decided, as we reached the upstairs landing, and realised I was only focusing on that because of my utter terror at what might come next.

A moment later and we were in the bedroom. I stared at the bed with its brass bedstead, vast mass of pillows and fluffy white duvet. It had class, it had charm and it reminded me that it wasn’t mine. The chances were any bed I slept in from now on would belong to a man, just as I did, for all that he was restraining himself from taking advantage. Men owned beds, I warmed them.

I must have groaned for Ephraim looked at me questioningly.

“It’s alright, “ I reassured him “Just nerves.”

“Don’t be nervous my lovely, haven’t I been gentle with you?”

Really not the point I thought You seem to have forgotten I was as much a man as you six months ago. No, scratch that, I was a foolish irresponsible reckless boy six months ago. But still male, dammit

Then he set me on my feet and kissed me again. For a moment I cooperated, allowing myself to react to Ephraim’s undoubted skills. Then I froze! While one arm held me firmly clasped to Ephraim’s manly chest the other was undoing the buttons which ran down the back of my dress!

“Stop! Please stop!”

“Ruth?”

“You – you promised I’d still be a virgin. “

“And you will. But I want us to lie down and relax and I don’t want us going to bed fully clothed.”

He had a point.

“I’ll wait outside”

He had tact too. As the door closed behind him I hastily pulled the dress off, reflecting ironically that only this morning I’d been gripped with horror at wearing a dress and now I was gripped with horror at taking it off. The petticoats quickly followed. Remembering that I was now responsible for the neat upkeep of this mass of ruffles I carefully hung them up in the wardrobe which I’d been too distracted to notice coming in then contemplated myself in the mirror built into its door. A flushed and frightened girl stared back at me, looking, if anything, even younger than her nineteen years. Her red hair hung in wavy tresses around her flustered face. Her lips were swollen and around them – yes- she, I had man rash where Ephraim’s stubble had reddened my soft skin.

I was slim but amply curved with it. I wore a bodice top with frills around the bosom and shoulder straps and long Victorian knickers, also frilly. If I’d still been a man and a girl like this had been given to me- well let’s just say my admiration for Ephraim’s kindness and self restraint was growing moment by moment. I just hoped he could keep it up. As I thought that here came a knock at the door. I leapt for the bed and dived under the covers.

“Come in!”

Ephraim smiled at me from the doorway and crossed the room towards me, shedding clothes as he came. I noticed he didn’t stop to hang them up; anti-slavery or not he was either naturally scruffy or used to women picking up after him. If I married him that woman would be me. Oh, who was I kidding? Frontier life was obviously big on gender roles. If not Ephraim I would be picking up after someone else, maybe someone a lot less kind or considerate. The only question left was could I bear to be a woman sexually or was I going to opt for a lifetime of celibacy at the age of nineteen?

Then Ephraim was in the bed with me, one arm under my slender form and the other brushing my long hair back from my cheek as he kissed me again. This time my mouth opened under his. It felt like we were starting on a deeper level than before and I closed my eyes and allowed him to take the lead. All my skin was tingling now and I felt almost liquid, melting into his kisses. I let one hand drift up to feel his chest. It was like warm, slightly hairy flesh over solid teak. He’d carried me effortlessly and I had no doubt he was much stronger than I’d been as a male and far, far stronger than I could ever be now. As a man, being this close to someone that strong was a threat or a challenge. As I began to relax and snuggle against him now it started to feel like a kind of security. Ephraim was the kind of man who would see a wife as someone to be protected and looked after, that I was sure of. Sexist? Probably. Did I mind? I was starting to think probably not.

Then his kisses moved down from my mouth to the slim column of my neck. My very sensitive neck. Meanwhile his other hand was doing some delightful things to my bottom. I wanted to be ashamed of how I was reacting but I was too busy trying to keep my reaction in bounds. I still wasn’t sure if I could go through with this but I had to admit Ephraim was certainly having an effect on me. This was worrying. If I married him I was going to a frontier where I was dependent on the food he could grow or raise, he was already my legal owner and he was bigger, older fitter and stronger than me. If he could make me hot for him as well, that was just way too many advantages.

So you have to have the same effect back I chided myself An attractive woman can drive a man crazy with desire – and unless that mirror lied you’re somewhere between very pretty and beautiful. You don’t have a man’s means of getting what you want any more, you have to learn to use a woman’s. With that thought I stopped being a wallflower and reached out to embrace Ephraim. As I did so his lips reached the rounded tops of my breasts and I froze. The effect was…effective. Very effective. He felt me freeze and his mouth moved back up to close over mine again, but while I was kept from speaking by his busy lips and tongue firmly keeping mine occupied one hand lightly traced the curve of the underside of my left breast. Electricity shot through me and I felt my heart pounding in my chest. Since he was now undoing the top button of my bodice maybe he did too. I closed my hand over his; now he’d have to pull away if he wanted to undo more buttons. He didn’t, but instead moved back to my throat, kissing and nibbling his way down towards my breasts again. This time he was able to kiss a little more of them, meanwhile was between my cheeks and reaching forward. A long forefinger grazed the lips of my vagina and I didn’t move away. I wasn’t sure any more if I was more frightened or more excited but I knew something was coming and I was no longer sure I could stop it.

“Please..” I whispered

The other hand moved; somehow I had forgotten to hold it safe and it undid the next buttons on my bodice, exposing my breasts to Ephraim’s gaze. I’d barely explored my new body at all in the short time I’d had it, certainly not the way Ephraim was exploring it now. My breasts – and they were my breasts now, however weird a thought that was – looked unfamiliar to me, smooth mounds surmounted by pink puffy nipples. Ephraim kissed my nipple and I felt it harden, he brushed my clothing aside and as his hand held my breast steady for his attentions I felt it harden like a blown up football. I tried to steady my breathing enough to ask him to stop – and that’s when the finger of his other hand slipped inside me!

I was ridiculously, shamefully wet. He was able to slip inside me as easily as an eel that’s been coated in Vaseline and as one end of his finger penetrated me the other end brushed across my clitoris. I felt my hips give an involuntary twitch and my breaths came short and hard and embarrassingly loud. A line of fire seemed to run from my groin to my breasts and Ephraim was using it to play me like a violin. His finger was deeper in me now, moving backwards and forwards. My eyes were closed and my lips parted and all thought of embarrassment or resistance had gone. I don’t know how long things went on like this before I gave a little cry and a shudder and collapsed against Ephraim’s chest.

For long minutes I lay there quivering, wrapped in Ephraim’s arms. I no longer had the slightest doubt as to whether I could bear the bedwarming part of marriage. The manual was right after all; we could be each other’s greatest source of pleasure! I almost didn’t notice as Ephraim slipped the last of my clothing from me, leaving me nude but for the locket and chain I still wore about my neck, until he lifted the covers to get a better look at me.

I shook my hair forward over my face in embarrassment and tried to cover my breasts and groin with my arms.

“Please don’t. I want to look at you.”

“Why?”

“Why? My petal, you are beautiful and smart and used to be a man. Surely you know why I want to look at you.”

Of course I knew. It just felt incredibly strange to be the object of such unashamed male desire. I pouted.

“Tell me why. I want to hear it.” Oh God, I was flirting, fishing for compliments.

“Because I want to enjoy the view.”

I opened one eye.

“I’m not a landscape.”

“No, but you are an area of outstanding natural beauty.”

“Flatterer,” I smiled

“Nope. It’s true. Can’t you see it?”

“Maybe. Seen enough yet, I’m getting chilled?”

“I can tell” he grinned, looking pointedly at my erect nipples

“Oh, you. I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but all the same, men!”

I grabbed a pillow and tried to swat him with it. A brief tussle predictably ended up with me pinned helplessly beneath him, hands held above my head with effortless ease. I was keeping my legs closed. If they’d been open I absolutely wouldn’t trust his self control. I wasn’t certain I trusted mine. Ephraim must be wildly frustrated now, I could feel his hardness pulsing against me. Weirdly, I liked it. I liked knowing he wanted me. I liked him being stronger than me. I liked lying there helpless, knowing I was his for the taking, though I wasn’t sure I’d enjoy the last so much if I didn’t trust him so well.

Ephraim swooped on me like a stopping falcon, crushing me to him almost painfully, I could feel him moving against me in desire and frustration.

“Ephr-mffflll –wait! Give me a free hand. Mff!!”

He did, and a moment later my smooth delicate fingers were wrapped around his frankly enormous feeling manhood.

“Ruth, “ he managed to gasp “Ruth, you don’t have to do this.”

“I can’t leave you like this.”

“I’ll be OK”

“Shut up, you’re hurting my feelings.”

His hand closed over mine and mere seconds later I was being splashed with hot – well, you get the idea.

“You’ve made me all sticky. “ I complained, smiling contentedly up at Ephraim.

“Mmm.” He seemed a little out of breath, but it didn’t stop him - how shall I put this- glazing me. I didn’t mind. I’d done the same thing to girls myself. I seemed to have come a long way in an hour .

“Happy, little petal?.”

I thought about it. For the first time since the crash, yes. I actually was.

“Very happy.”

“Good!”

“Hey, where are you going?”

“To get this”

Ephraim knelt beside the bed holding a small box opened so that I could see the contents held towards me. A diamond was set on the little gold ring, flanked by two emeralds.

“Ruth, will you do me the honour of marrying me?”

My heart was in my mouth. Ridiculously so. I’d been a full on girl for less than a week and I still felt the traditional thrill of excitement. I realised I was holding in a breath and felt an enormous, I’ve swallowed a banana sideways type grin spread across my face.

“One condition”

“What is it?”

“I’ll be your wife, your lover and your companion, for richer or poorer, for better or for worse. I’ll try to be the best wife ever. But I don’t want to be a Ruth. Ruth was an exile. I feel more like I’ve found a home. So I want to be Anne. Anne-with an- ‘e’.”

The End