Dreamer: Part 7

Printer-friendly version

MIRROR.GIF

Dreamer: Part 7

By Tanya Allan
Original Version Copyright © 1972
Revised version Copyright © 2012


Pippa has come to a crucial crossroads in her life. Forced by a feeling that if she doesn't contact her parents, then her life may well revert to the way things were, she has to make some tough decisions. Her boyfriend is also an issue, and circumstances force her to tell him more than she intended.

Follow her as she makes decisions that could mean disaster or something else.

Does she make the right decisions?


Dreamer: Part 7

Author’s note
This was the last part of the teenage scribble. I remember writing this as if it was yesterday. I got as far as the railway station at Perth (I won’t spoil it for you). I remember being stuck. It was an emotional time for me, as Pippa was able to express things in a way that I wanted to and never got the opportunity. I think I used this story to plan out what I wanted to say but was never brave (or stupid) enough. It wasn’t very well written, so I’ve cleaned it up and added to it. It was left hanging, as back then I couldn’t actually visualise the end.

I’m older and wiser (a bit) now. I am able to divorce myself from the story, which I couldn’t do at the time.

I need to know whether you (the readers) would like me to continue this story to a more complete conclusion, or whether you believe that this is a good place to stop.

I think I’d like to, but I can always find something else to write.

Please let me know.


The train station in Perth isn’t the most wonderful place, but it’s easy to get to and, well, it was somewhere that I knew I could leave without being seen if I wanted to.

Thor, bless him walked me to the station in Edinburgh so I could catch the train. He offered to come with me, but I declined.

“This is something I have to do alone. I’d love you to come, but it would make a tricky situation that much trickier if you were with me.”

We’d had a good week. He’d had to work three days after giving in his notice, which was fine, but as he was supposed to work the seven, they let him go early as there just wasn’t the work. They paid him for the days, so he was pleased.

On the Wednesday after he finished his last day of work, we were in the flat. I was making a coffee, but was distracted thinking about my impending meeting (or not) with my parents. He wanted to know why I was upset and stressed out. He naturally thought it was because of him, so I tried to explain about my parents. In the end, I sort of told him the truth. I daren’t tell him I’d been a boy, so I just said I had left school early and they hadn’t liked it.

“You should stay in school. Qualifications are important,” he said.

“I know, but, well, it’s a bit different for me.”

“No it isn’t. It’s the same for boys and girls.”

I’d tried every which way to hedge around the issue, but he was so stubborn, I lost my temper, which was a mistake.

“Look, you stupid man, I can’t because they think I’m a boy!” I’d said, and realised that I’d just blown it.

He stared at me with his mouth open and a deep frown that threatened to cut off circulation to his eyebrows.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“I don’t understand. You said….”

I know what I said, just forget it, okay?”

“I don’t understand,” he repeated.

Oh shit, this is exactly what I didn’t want to do.

Truth time.

“Okay, now what I will tell you is the truth, but it’s also just a little weird, so just believe me, okay?”

He opened his mouth to say something, saw my expression and closed it again, nodding uncertainly.

“Okay. Now, the day I met you, remember, back in Perth?”

He nodded.

“Right, I’d just left my boarding school. I left because I woke up as you see me now, a normal girl. Got that?”

Still frowning, he nodded again.

“Now, that’s not so weird, you say, but it is, because when I went to bed on the previous night, I’d been a boy. Not a tom-boyish girl, or a girly boy, but a boy with a dick and everything. Understand?”

He started to nod, but then shook his head.

“Oh shit, I knew this was going to be fucking tough. Look, Thor, up until the day I met you, I’d been a boy. I was born a boy, grew up as a boy and was at school as a boy. Despite that, all my life I have wanted to be a girl, as I have always felt that, inside, I was a girl. I went to bed a boy and woke up a girl. Now, before you say anything, I know that this is impossible and it just can’t happen. I agree, by all that I know and understand it just can’t happen. But I also know that it did. Either I’m dreaming and it’s all a mental illness and I’m perfectly insane and living in cloud-cuckoo land, or it’s real. Do you think I’m mad?”

He opened his mouth again, so I held up a hand.

“Forget I asked. Just let me say this. When I woke up, I was in my room, that is, a room that should have been occupied by a boy called Philip. I have all Philip’s memories, so I know that I was Philip. My friend, or rather Philip’s friend, Andy, came into the room, saw me and immediately thought I was a girl that Philip had smuggled into the school to have sex with. He took some persuading to convince that Philip and me are the same person inside, because I’ve changed a lot. I’m a little shorter and very female. All my memories are still there, and I have some of him that only he and I know.

“Anyway, he was convinced and helped me get my stuff together and leave the school. He even gave me some money, which I suppose I ought to pay back. I hitched a ride to Perth with a teacher’s wife. I knew her but she didn’t recognise me at all. Then, once I got to Perth, I bought some proper girl’s clothes and met you in the café. Incidentally, my mother came in with a friend and sat at a table near us. You asked me what was wrong, remember?”

He shook his head.

I sighed.

“It doesn’t matter. Now you see why I have so many problems, like no passport and no money?”

Thor was silent. I didn’t blame him. If I’d have been him, I think I’d be thinking about which loony bin I was going to call.

“You say you were a boy called Philip?” he said after quite a long time of silence.

I nodded.

“When you found you were a girl, why did you not tell someone at school, a doctor or teacher?”

“For what? So they could prod and poke, call my parents and create a fuss? My dad would want to sue the school and then buy the best surgeon to put me back the way he wanted. No, Thor, I couldn’t have done that.”

“Your parents hate you?”

“Not really, but I’m not sure whether they will want a daughter that had been their son. My mum is probably more open minded than my dad. My dad will be more concerned about what people might say than my happiness.”

“That is sad. Perhaps you are mistaken?”

“I hope so.”

He nodded and frowned some more. I went to the dresser and took out my wallet. I had all my old cards and documents. I put them on the table and showed him. There were no photographs though.

“This friend, Andy, is it?” he asked, looking at the cards and old driver’s licence.

“Yes, Andy Cairn. What about him?”

“He believes you?”

“Yes. I wrote to him the other day and he phoned me back. He persuaded me to contact my parents.”

Thor leaned back and scratched his head.

“This is, as you say, impossible.”

There was nothing I could say.

He smiled. I wondered what he was thinking about.

“You are certainly a normal girl.”

“Thanks.”

“I mean, it took you how long to lose your virginity, a week?”

I felt guilty and blushed, at which he laughed again.

“You are definitely not a boy. That I assure you.”

“I am aware of that, but thanks anyway.”

“The battleship!” he suddenly said.

“What?”

“On the bus, we saw a navy boat and I called it a battleship. You told me exactly what it was and when it was made. You even knew what missiles it carries. No girl would know that.”

“So?” I asked, unsure where he was going with this.

He nodded, as if thinking of something important.

“I believe you. I cannot see how, but I believe you.”

“Are you sure you’re not just saying that and will call the ambulance when my back’s turned?” I asked.

He laughed at me again, patting the sofa for me to sit beside him.

“Come, sit with me. We talk some more about this. It is amazing.”

I sat next to him, cautiously.

“You are a girl, yes?”

“Yes,” I said, not sure where he was going.

“When you were a boy, you wanted to be a girl and thought you should have been, yes?”

“Yes.”

“If you could be either, what would it be?”

“Duh, a girl.”

He nodded again, reaching out and taking my hand.

“You are my girl, yes?”

“If you still want me to be, yes.”

“I do. So, tell me again, when you went to sleep….?”

Talk we did, well into the night. He asked me all about my childhood and I shared every feeling and memory that I felt was important. We ended up going to bed at about three thirty in the morning. I lay there, feeling very uncertain. He reached out and pulled me gently towards him.

“You don’t want me?” he asked.

“I’m not sure whether you will still want me,” I admitted.

“Why not? I love you and you’re my girl, yes?”

“Yes,” I said, and melted into his arms.

We’d had sex many times up to that day, but that was the most tender and erotic experience I’d yet had. He told me afterwards that I held nothing back. As I went to sleep I told him that I loved him. He smiled and farted. It was a beautiful moment.

As I sat on the train, alone, I looked down at the Firth of Forth. The old bridge was an amazing feat of engineering, but I wasn’t that impressed at that moment. Thor had told me that I was dressed to go to church. Maybe he was right, but I didn’t want to make a bad impression. I wore a smart skirt and jacket in navy blue, with a pale blouse, tights and smart shoes with heels. My hair looked lovely and I’d done my makeup conservatively.

I didn’t look anything like Philip Coates.

I didn’t feel anything like Philip Coates.

I still wasn’t certain that either of them would be there. I thought that my mum might be, but I wasn’t sure about my dad.

The train seemed to take an age to get to Perth, but as soon as it started slowing down, I felt physically sick.

The man opposite me looked worried.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

“Fine thanks. I’m just a bit queasy. I should have eaten something earlier.”

The train was ten minutes late, so it was ten to noon already. I waited for a while, and then followed the others off and onto the platform. The train pulled out again, almost immediately.

Feeling a little faint, I sat on the red-painted bench on the platform, watching the train leave as it headed north. Perhaps I should have stayed on it, I thought.

The passengers had all headed for the exit, so I sat there for a moment, looking at the clock. The minute hand clicked gradually up towards twelve.

My parents weren’t here.

I waited.

A policeman came through the doors, looked around and then headed for an office to my left. I watched the office door, wondering whether this was a trap.

I told myself not to be paranoid.

Five past came. I stood up. The next train to Edinburgh was at twenty to one. I already had a ticket, so it wasn’t long to wait.

I saw my mother before she saw me.

She walked uncertainly through the entrance. I saw her speak to someone and then she must have bought a platform ticket.

She looked tired, so I immediately felt guilty for what I had put them through.

She looked at the empty concourse, glancing my way and then passing over me. Then she looked back and frowned. I saw her hand go up to her mouth. I saw her shake her head and look for anyone else that could be her daughter, or son, or whatever she was expecting. It obviously wasn’t me.

“Well, this is it,” I said to myself, standing up.

I walked down the platform towards the barrier. A male ticket collector in the British Railways uniform watched me. My mother walked shakily towards me as well, stopping at the barrier. She still looked for anyone else that could possibly be her child, as clearly I didn’t meet her expectations. I hoped I exceeded them.

I wondered how I looked to her. I thought I looked sophisticated and feminine. Judging by the openly admiring glance from the BR man, I had succeeded a little at any rate.

I tried to be as calm as I could, handing over my ticket as I reached the barrier.

“Thanks, love,” he said. “Are you being met or do ye want a taxi?”

Looking at my mother, I said, “I’m being met, thank you.” I spoke in my most educated accent.

He punched it and handed it back. It was a return, after all. With no more passengers, he turned and headed for his office and a cup of tea, no doubt.

I stood in front of my mother.

“Hi mum,” I said.

She had to hold on to the metal stanchion of the barrier, tears came to her eyes and her voice shook.

“Philip?”

I felt amazingly calm and in control. I was surprised and I thought I’d be a wreck. I shook my head, conscious of the movement of my long hair and ear rings.

“No, mum. Philip is no more. I’m Pippa. I’m your daughter.”

“But you’re… you’re…”

“A girl? Yes, I am, and underneath, I always have been. I’m so pleased you’ve noticed at last.”

“May I…?” she stammered, holding out a hand. I took it, surprised at the strength with which she gripped my hand.

“I can see you’re a girl. I wanted to say that you were beautiful, that’s all,” she said, crying openly now.

At those words, I broke and felt the tears come to my eyes. I fought for control.

“So, dad didn’t come?” I asked.

“He has, he's parking the car,” she said, looking towards the entrance.

He hadn’t changed. I felt a flutter of apprehension as I saw him walk in. Like mother, he stopped and then came through looking at us. Some other people were here, so I was grateful for some silly reason.

He stopped a little way off, his face contorting as various emotions fought for supremacy. In the end he surprised me by bursting into tears.

“John, come meet Pippa, our daughter,” said my mother, still with a shaky voice.

He came to me with his hands out.

My tears won, and I felt them rolling down my cheeks. I was more worried about my mascara running than anything else and laughed at the stupidity of the thought.

“Forgive me,” he said, gathering us both in an embrace that I never recalled receiving from him before.

We stood like that for a long time, oblivious to the people walking past us in both directions.

At last, he was the one to relinquish hold.

“We need to talk. Will you come home?” he asked.

I hadn’t intended to, as I had been determined to keep on neutral territory. Somehow I felt that by going back to where I grew up, I might become him again.

But the emotion of the moment and completely surprising reaction of my parents shocked me so much that I simply nodded.

My father went ahead to get the Mercedes while I sat on the bench outside the station holding my mother’s hand.

“I never knew,” she kept repeating.

“I know. I’m sorry, I just couldn’t tell you,” I replied.

She smiled through her tears, regarding me a little more critically now we were outside and calmer.

“You really are very pretty. What happened?” she said.

“I’ll wait for dad and tell you when we get home. I don’t want to go through it twice. I had to tell my boyfriend about it on Wednesday evening, so we spent yesterday going through it all again and again. He’s torn, as his rational mind can’t accept it, but his emotional mind does.”

“How did you meet?”

“On the day I left school, I met him in the café where I saw you. Do you remember?”

She shook her head.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I don’t know. I suppose I was still in a kind of shock. It’s not every day you wake up finally as the person you’ve always wanted to be. The problem was I was a girl in an all boys’ school, so that was a trauma in itself.”

Dad pulled up in the forecourt.

“Get in the front, dear,” said my mother.

I didn’t feel inclined to argue, so complied.

I fastened my seat belt and sat back, closing my eyes. I had not imagined this scenario.

“She was just telling me about seeing me in Perth, on the day,” she told my father.

Despite me wanting to wait, I told them the story on the way. It was only half an hour’s drive, so hadn’t really finished when we arrived home.

Home.

I sat in the car and looked at the house in which I had grown up. It seemed different somehow. Or perhaps that was me. I was certainly different. I was bombarded by memories.

The memories of happy and not so happy times seemed strangely faint and insubstantial; almost as if they didn’t belong to me. I kept reliving the memories as if I was a spectator and not the subject.

I must have phased out for a moment, for dad was holding my door open.

“Are you getting out?” he asked.

I got out, aware that I showed a lot of leg and noticed that he saw. I smiled slightly, as he actually blushed and looked away.

My mother had already opened the front door, so Jockie the Border terrier rushed out to meet us.

In all my traumas, I’d all but forgotten him. As I bent over to stroke him, he virtually hurled himself into my arms. I cried, as always did this to me, so he remembered me.

Both my parents watched, and I noticed, both were crying.

I carried the wriggling dog into the house as he tried to lick all the makeup off my face.

We gravitated to the kitchen, where I sat on the stool at the breakfast bar.

“I’m finding this very difficult,” admitted my father, as mum filled the kettle.

I frowned.

“Difficult, how?”

He smiled.

“Having such an attractive daughter showing so much leg is not an easy thing for a man to deal with.”

Jockie brought his tennis ball to me to throw for him.

“I can’t help how I look, dad. I did try to dress smart for you.”

“You look lovely dear, very sophisticated and professional,” said my mother. “Lunch is cold meat, cheese and fresh bread. I couldn’t plan anything else. I mean, we didn’t know…” her voice trailed off.

“I understand, cold meat is fine. I didn’t know what was going to happen either. I never thought you’d be, you’d be quite so….” I couldn’t say any more as the tears returned with enthusiasm.

It was a very stilted lunch, as we all kept breaking down and crying. I’m not sure why. They asked me so many questions, which I tried to answer as best as I could. Some were hard, particularly the ones about why I didn’t tell them before.

“Look, I was a boy, physically I was normal, so I never even contemplated a sex change as it was too difficult. I was resigned to live out my life just as I was. I couldn’t put you through it. I was probably wrong, but I truly believed that you would have been mortified to have a transsexual for a son.”

My parents looked at each other.

“Actually, Pippa, you were wiser than you knew. I don’t think I would have coped with it at all, for the reasons you thought,” dad admitted. “Over the last few weeks, we’ve been to hell and back, going over what kind of parents were thought we had been. After your letter arrived, my first reaction was to treat it as a hoax, but you mother believed it. It seems you were both right.”

I couldn’t think of anything to say.

“Are you completely normal?” mum asked.

“As far as I know. I’ve already had a period and, well, I seem to be normal.”

“Have you seen a doctor?” she asked.

“Not yet, I’ve been a bit busy.”

“So, you’re not on the pill?”

“Dad!”

“Are you?”

“No.”

“You mentioned precautions,” said mum, looking embarrassed.

“He uses condoms.”

Dad rolled his eyes and looked away.

“Dear, you can’t always rely on them, you do know that?” mum said.

“I know. I am planning to go down to the FP clinic. But I’m sorting this part of my life out first.”

“Okay, how do we play this?” dad asked.

I shrugged.

“Right, are you willing to be advised by me on this?” he asked.

“It depends.”

He frowned.

“On what?”

“What you suggest.”

“Okay, perhaps I phrased that badly. How about we set out our possible options and come to a mutual agreement as to how to proceed?”

I smiled.

“Go on,” I said.

“Good. One, we tell the police. I’ve been in touch with them regularly and they will have to see and speak to you to close their enquiry.”

I didn’t like the sound of that.

“Okay,” I said, rather reluctantly.

“Two; we get you sorted medically and legally.”

“How?”

“Well, we have to establish that you are the same person as Philip Coates and that you are no longer male. Once those are done, you will have to have your birth certificate changed, your name changed and then you’ll be legally entitled to get your National Insurance, passport and drivers licence issued.”

“O-kay. How do we do that?”

“I can make an appointment with Dr Featherstone. As your GP, he knew you…”

“As Philip,” I interrupted.

“Yes, he knew you and can examine you to categorically say that you are now a genetic female. Hopefully, he will also be able to say that you are the same person as the boy called Philip. He can kill two birds with one stone, so to speak.”

“Okay. Then what?”

“He will issue a medical certificate, certifying your identity and gender. This will be used to change your details with the registry people and then, with a new birth certificate, you can apply for a new NI number, passport and all the other stuff you will need.”

“That sounds okay,” I said. It all sounded reasonably simple.

“Then you go back to school,” he said. Just to spoil it all.

“No dad. I’m done with school.”

“Listen young lady…”

I stood up.

“No, dad, you listen. I’m seventeen. I’m legally an adult, so here’s how it’s going to be. I actually have a temporary job until after Christmas. I then have been signed up to join the cast of a new TV series that will be showing next autumn. I want to be an actress, and this is my big chance. If I need further studying, then I’ll go to drama school, but I may not have to.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, a part as an extra in some obscure TV series is not the way to do it. If you want my advice…”

“No, dad, I don’t. For starters, the part is not that of an extra, but as the female lead. Second, I already have an agent and my fees or salary is far more than I could ever have dreamed of. I’ve found this job, me, all by myself. You are not interfering with it like you have with just about everything else in my life, do YOU understand?”

There was a stunned silence in the kitchen.

I had been calm and precise, never raising my voice or losing my temper. He stared at me, blinking and looking slightly shocked.

“Did I tell you that you were the survivor of a set of twins?” mum asked.

“What?” I was confused by the complete change of direction.

“Your sister was born dead. I never believed she was dead, as I sensed she was alive somehow. Oh, I knew the little body was dead, but her spirit was always around.”

My father and I stared at her.

I had to sit down.

Suddenly some form of clarity came out of the mist.

She took my hand.

“Welcome home, darling. How I’ve missed you!” she said with tears in her eyes. Her smile, however, said it all.



to be continued...?

That, my friends, is entirely up to you... NO COMMENTS means No more story.......

up
209 users have voted.
If you liked this post, you can leave a comment and/or a kudos! Click the "Thumbs Up!" button above to leave a Kudos

Comments

MOOOOOOOORRRRRREEEEEEE!!!!!!!

More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More More

Does that answer your question Tanya?

The nature of Monkey is - Irrepressible!!!

Are you certain? :-)

Tanya Allan's picture

Are you certain? :-)

There's no such thing as bad weather, just the wrong clothes!

absotootly!

giggle.

Abigail Drew.

What GreatSage said!

I will double it. PLEASE continue????

Hugs,
Erica

Also what GreatSage said.

WillowD's picture

And, yes, I know you've already written it so it's a little late to ask, so I will just have to settle with Thank you, Thank you, Thank you, Thank you, Thank you, Thank you, Thank you, Thank you, Thank you, Thank you, Thank you, Thank you, Thank you, Thank you, Thank you, Thank you, Thank you, Thank you, Thank you, Thank you, Thank you, Thank you, Thank you, Thank you, Thank you, Thank you, Thank you, Thank you, Thank you, Thank you, Thank you, Thank you, Thank you, Thank you, Thank you, Thank you, Thank you, Thank you, Thank you, Thank you, Thank you, Thank you!

Yeah!

Yeah! What she said!

Tanya, you are one of my favourite authors. I've just loved everything you've written and I've read just about everything you've written starting with "The candy Cane Club".

Do, please do go on!

x

Yours from the Great White North,

Jenny Grier (Mrs.)

Please continue

There, you have at least one comment so you now have to continue...

Go on or leave it here?

Always the question, isn't it?

Me? I at least want to see the rest of that family meeting.

So there's your answer from me.

Maggie

If you write it...

...I'll definitely read it, Tanya.

I've really enjoyed the story so far, and would be delighted if you wrote/published more.

Potential Situations

More Please!

Tanya,

I've always enjoyed your stories and have read everything you've posted on your mini-site at Maddy Bell's. You have a style that I enjoy reading and would like to see more of this interesting situation.

Suzij

As they said,

M O R E P L E A S E!

Susie

Absolutely.....

.....continue the story. Please don't leave us hanging on how the family meeting goes, the relationship with Thor, the dress shop, etc. This has been, as usual, another great start for one of your wonderful stories and I would love to see it completed as would most, if not all, of your multitude of fans.

Hugs, Sarah Ann

Hi Tanya

as always, your stories fill me with a belief that things CAN turn out well.
This story hasn't met its full potential yet, she has more to do.

Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

Dump Thor - she can do better! :D

But I like Thor!

He has a mighty hammer! *giggles* Yes, the innuendo was intended.

Abigail Drew.

Dreamer

Tanya; So are you going to leave us hanging with wonder or going to give us a super story of his/her Spirit of the Sister that he is now. Waiting! Richard

Richard

Maybe more, but it has ended

Maybe more, but it has ended so well, and so surprisingly. I only want more if you feel up to it. A terrific story!

Eager to pay your price.

You silly, humble little thing. Of course we'd like to see more. And if leaving a simple comment is all it takes, well, here you go...

.

COMMENT

.

.

Jeans and turtleneck_0.JPG
The girl in me. She's always there,
always ready with a bit of silliness.

May I have more please

Tanya, as always you write very captivating stories. I only wish I could afford the many that you have published. Unfortunately, I can only read the ones you provide for free. Keep up the good work. I wish you much success in your endevours.

L Rochelle

You wrote this at FIFTEEN, Tanya?

WE are not worthy!

This was a most impressive effort for an unhappy teen. Most adults would not do as well.

IF other things are more pressing the story is at a point where you could pause. She has reconciled with her parents and told her lover the truth and it looks like things will go well.

Still would be nice to see how easy or difficult the correcting of her ID is. What of the police and the school? Will she remain female or is this happy outcome a dream? At this point I think she is here to stay. Plus she owes her school friend a debt for his help. Bouncing around here a lot I admit but these are a few possible dangling plot threads you could pursue.

The dead at birth FEMALE twin of hers is most interesting "plot complication". Did the souls swap at birth and the boy spirit died in the girl's body, she got the boy body and somehow from beyond the grave her late sibling has fixed things? Or was she always female? An important part of the plot or a red herring? But at least it helped her mom reconcile why she always FELT her late daughter was alive. Maybe she always was but stuck in a male shell?

Magic, faith, biology or little green -- well grey men, I reread part of Whispers of the Mind today --- the mechanism of how she changed is not so important as the motivations of her and all the major characters.

And she has a handsome man to escort to a sad funeral plus a hit TV series -- I hope -- to star in. And who is she recalling her tale to? Just us readers or to someone in particular. Her children, perhaps on the day of a daughters wedding?

If the muse wills by all means continue.

John in Wauwatosa

P.S. BTW after a long delay I finally read all of The Other Side of Dreams recently. Why the heck didn't I do this back when you first posted it. It was terrific!

John in Wauwatosa

God YES!!!!

Great story. I can't wait to find out how it all works out. PLEASE PLEASE, PLEASE!!!!!!!!!!!!

Well this can nicely transition to a ghost story of sorts

Certainly there is a mystery to be solved. I mean is her mother insane or spirit sensitive? What kind of path would be demanded of her if she is imbued with her sister's life path? Most of all, if I were she, it would cause confusion as she has passionately believed it is her soul who is female. Sooo, is she the embodiment of her dead sister and the boy who should've been born in that body displaced or never happened?

Kim

Yes, please! I would

Yes, please! I would definitely like you to continue this story. I am enjoying it immensely and want to see more of Pippa's story unfold.

You have to ask...

The English Teacher's picture

Oh magnificent wizard of the cliff hanger. Of course we what more! But we are not worthy.

So much to read, so little time and only one of me :)

The English Teacher

Yes! Yes! Yes!

O'h please do write it down, those wonderful words that say so much, and transport our minds to places, needful dreams, and delights!

Draflow

Thank you Tanya,

Please continue with your story and your style,
you don't need links to obscure wannabes,quite
delightful as it is.

ALISON

I'm of Two Minds

... probably both insane .

Naturally one wants to read more, one sees some ends that need tidying up, like 'wad skall passiera med Thor?' as well as how the relationship with parents esp. Father will develop. (BTW, I'm SURE that 18 and not 17 is the age someone becomes legally adult in the UK!)

However, the point you stopped at does give the story a completeness. One of the biggest mistakes people make when writing stories I have noticed is how they try to tidy everything up - sometimes even following the poor character's tale to their being buried after living a full life until they died... Real Life is not like that, and it is often a better ending when people can see the completion of the action but feel there are lots of things to be cleared up still. They can think about them and try to resolve them themselves if they need to.

Trying to deal with matters that border on the supernatural tends to stretch the readers' "suspension of disbelief" too far - often it is better to leave those aspects as hints or suspicions or shadows of doubt on the well-ordered, rational world we have imaged, than to try to explore these 'Will O'Wisps'.

So my answer is both No and Yes. Only YOU can decide this really. You already knew that, I am sure. "To Thine own Self, be True !"

Thank you for sharing with us all yet another of your wonderful stories, Tanya.

Briar

Age law in the UK in 1973

Tanya Allan's picture

Thanks for your comments.

About the age thing, you're not quite right, but you're not quite wrong. Lawyers wouldn't get so much money if it was clear and simple, so it isn't. As lawyers make the laws, the system is about as complicated as they can make it.

In the whole of the UK (Bear in mind there are three systems (Scotland, N. Ireland and England & Wales) everyone can ride a 50cc motorcycle at 16, drive a car at 17 and a HGV(truck)/PSV(Bus) at 21.
(Unless you're a 17 year old soldier driving a military vehicle.. see below)

In Scotland (as it has different laws than England), you are legally a child or Young person until you become over 16.. that means 17. At that time parents and guardians lose their legal responsibility to take decisions for their children and are no longer liable to ensure their children attend school.

16 is the legal age that a child can leave school, but parents have a say in that decision.

It was actually the same in England, as the Juvenile courts take all persons under 17 and on your 17th birthday, you become an adult. Things are slightly different in legal affairs in England now, but not that much.

HOWEVER,18 is a requirement to VOTE and drink alcohol.

You can legally have sex (with the consent of both parties) once you become 16

However......
You can get married at 17
You can join the army at 17
You can have a major medical operation

All without parental consent

How daft is that..? you can defend your country with your life, but you can't vote for the idiots that got you into that mess, neither can you drink booze or watch an X-rated movie!

Oh, but you can smoke yourself to death with tobacco at 16!

Incidentally, most UK smokers are aged between 12 and 18.

So, for things medical and scholastic, no parental intervention is required. Indeed, they cannot even be notified if the 17 year old doesn't wish it.

If a 17 year old is arrested and does not wish his/her parents informed, then the police can't tell them (unless they are co-defendants, witnesses or the victims)

Pertinent to this story, if a 17 year old (in good physical and mental health) goes missing and there are no unusual or suspicious circumstances, the police do not actively look for them. they make a record and keep it on file only. In this cae, it was unusual enough for them to initiate some form of investigation. It would probably be the local beat officer doing local enquiries and then circulating the details nationally. To be honest, if people want to disappear, it's too easy.

These days, with DNA screening of all persons who are arrested, a missing person would come to light that early, but in the 1970s, once an assumed identity has been taken, only fingerprints would alert the police, and if you've never had them taken, who is to know?

Hope this helps.

Tanya

There's no such thing as bad weather, just the wrong clothes!

And of course...

It is now 18 for smoking, but in Custody a 17 year old is still treated as an adult for purposes of 'appropriate adult' needing to be present.

I hate to seem

greedy, But i would absolutely love to find out what happens to Pippa next , As Dickens famous character once said "Please may i have some more" I know it didn't work for young Oliver.... But you never know unless you ask :)

Kirri

It's got definite

Brooke Erickson's picture

It's got definite possibilities.

How she does in her job will be interesting. And I don't believe for a minute that sorting out her identity and the police will be anywhere *near* as simple as they think.

Brooke brooke at shadowgard dot com
http://brooke.shadowgard.com/
Girls will be boys, and boys will be girls
It's a mixed up, muddled up, shook up world
"Lola", the Kinks

Dreamer

Please continue as the best is yet to come!

Please

Dont stop the story! We have to know what happens next!!! Hehe

DREAMER

Tanya:

More please!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

gyg1977
lol

Got lost in the pack

I found this one right before it rolled off the front page. Like so many of your other stories I really liked this one too! As for more, you've already done that too. Thank you!
hugs.
Grover

Please, share more with us!

Tanya, I have read almost everything that I can find of your work over and over. You have an immense storytelling talent, an amazing perception of gender identity, and a warm, loving heart. (And you like Yes!) I find it amazingly easy to suspend my sense of disbelief when reading your stories, which is very rare. You have also helped me to like myself a bit more, for which I thank you with all my heart.

Scott Holman

You found your voice...

Hypatia Littlewings's picture

You definitely found your voice with your very first story.
Its a wonderful story and absolutely amazing for a very first work and at only 15.
But then it is from the heart so it should be.

*sighs* If only such dreams could come true.

I am so glad

that it was continues as I did not read this when it first came out. It was probably published here on BC about the time we were busy helping one of Jasmine's old school chums.

I really would have rather been reading Dreamer

Goddess Bless you

Love Desiree