“Isabella Carlisle, is an aggressive, tenacious heartless bitch of journalist and will have no qualms about digging deeper, she will easily find your deed poll name change and expose you in an extremely lurid and tasteless manner, you really should have nothing to do with her.” Sally warned me.

“You promised me that if it looked like your background was to be exposed that you would let me break the story before anyone else and get the true facts down in print rather than unfounded prejudiced gossip and innuendo. I suggest that time has now come. If you agree, come round to stay at my place, we’ll work on the story together and get it out in the public arena before she has an opportunity to sell her story to the magazine and to the red-top national newspapers. Meantime, do not answer any incoming calls from her.”

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

All my spare time over the next few days was spent with Sally, pulling together a press release and article about my transformation and transition from being Joey and how it turned from being a charade to further a career into something a lot deeper and more personal. It was all done in a rush but it was necessary to get Sally’s article out before the more lurid exposé that would be expected from Isabella Carlisle and Women’s Life magazine. After several drafts and rewrites it was all finished and we were both happy that the article was ready to be sent to a reputable quality newspaper and magazine as well as a copy sent to Anglia East, who had agreed to run the story in parallel with the publication.

“That’s it all ready now Jo, are you still sure that you want to go ahead with this, once I send this off there will be no turning back and you will have no choice other than to face the music that will follow?” Sally asked warily, allowing me an opportunity to say ‘No’.

“To be honest I feel a bit like one of those heroines in the old black and white silent films, tied to a rail track with the roar of an approaching train in the distance, awaiting my doom, waiting for my knight in shining armour to come and rescue me, but it is something that I will have to face up to sooner or later.”

“I’m sure that it will be nowhere as near as bad as that. If it can be said that any national paper or magazine is tolerant to transgender issues, the ones I have chosen are the ones that will tell your story without lurid headlines and in a sympathetic manner. How they actually publish it I will have little control over but I am confident that nothing will be critical of you. What are you going to do about Anglia East?”

“I have already informed Jim Marshall, and he is setting up an interview with me by Carol Cameron. They both already know about me, and I’m certain that it will all be handled in a sensitive sympathetic way.”

“As I told you a few days ago, this will all be a one or two day wonder in the papers and news programmes, trans celebrities are not as big an issue as they were a few years ago, but it might be less stressful for you if you keep a low profile until it all blows over, why not go over to France and stay with your parents for a few days.”

“I’ve already warned Jacqui, the Museum Service, and Charles Mathieson at the NT that my background is to be made public and their press offices are all preparing statements for release when they are approached for comment. I will now set off for the studio to do the interview with Carol Cameron, go home and pack, and then disappear over to Vayrac to Mum and Dad’s place for a week. Thank you so much for your help in all this Sally, I’ll call you tomorrow to see how your discussions with the press have gone. I just hope that we have tweaked the nose of Isabella Carlisle and she realises that she has been wasting her time and that her story has missed the boat.”

As Jim and Carol at Anglia East already knew me so well, it had been easy for them to script a half-hour interview with me, telling my story and more importantly why I had decided to go go public with my personal details, and the interview was soon over. That was the last of my bridges burnt, and feeling that all I could do now was wait until it all went public I made my way home to pack for France to await the reaction.

Mum and Dad were delighted to see me when I arrived at Toulouse airport, they were expecting to see me worried and stressed rather than the relaxed mood I was in. On the way to their house in Vayrac, they asked lots of questions about why I had decided to go public and were particularly critical of Isabella Carlisle and her veiled threats.

“That’s one thing that I do not miss about the UK, the gutter press and their aggressive scandalmongering.” Dad told me. “In France there there are more restrictions relating to invasion of privacy, and besides there is much more expectation by the general public of misbehaviour or inappropriate activities by people in the public eye, and within limits it is expected and does not make the news.”

After a pleasant relaxed few days with Mum and Dad helping with their continuing renovations, which took my mind off whatever was happening back in Norfolk, I received an incoming call from Josie, and with a feeling of unease I answered it.

“Hi Jo, just to let you know that your story went live this morning both in the newspaper that Sally sold it to and also on the local news spot on Anglia East. I’ve had a conversation with Jim at the TV station and he wants to speak to you, so expect a call pretty soon. Apparently they have been inundated with comments from people that have been watching your reports and presentations, most of them are in disbelief but in a positive way. Obviously there are also a few from abusive and critical cranks, but that is to be expected and they are very much in the minority. I’ll sent you links to the TV and newspaper websites and you can judge for yourself, but I don’t think that you will have any significant problems, it should be safe for you to come home.”

I had hardly finished talking with Josie when Jim from Anglia East called me. “Jo, we need you back here, this is the biggest reaction we have had to a news story for ages, we need to do a follow up interview, when can you come in?”

“I came over to France to hide away in case there was a negative reaction to me going public, but Josie has told me that it all seems very positive, so I will probably come back tomorrow and can come in for an interview on the early evening slot. Get the researchers and Carol wound up and the interview prepared and I will call you when I get back to the UK.”

The final call I received later was from Sally Walker. “I’m just off the phone with Isabella Carlisle, I’ll not repeat exactly what she said, I’m too ladylike for that, but suffice to say she was not best pleased with you and me. There was a lot of swearing and ranting about me stealing her story that she had spent a lot of time researching and that the magazine no longer wanted her article as they had been pipped to the post. The names she called you are unrepeatable but I actually quite enjoyed listening to her ravings. The way she tries to humiliate people in her articles is disgusting and it is about time that someone put her in her place, thanks for that. I’ll see you when you get back, and maybe we can write something about the way she threatened you.”

Sally had been right when she had told me that my story would soon blow over, there were a lot more interesting things going on in the world, natural disasters, conflicts, labour unrest and political scandals. Other than with people that knew me personally, I was soon a distant memory and was able to get on with my life as it was before Isabella Carlisle came on the scene. As promised, Sally wrote a follow-up piece detailing how Isabella had threatened to expose me using gossip and innuendo if I did not agree to her terms. That harmed her already dubious reputation leading to many papers and magazines dropping her from their freelance lists and generating a lot of sympathy and tolerance towards me for the smart way that Sally and I had outwitted her.

The other main thing that I needed to address was meeting up with my neighbour Maggie and her friends that had taken part in the vlogs and videos with me, particularly Emma and Jane who had worked very closely with me at Ostia. I wasn’t too concerned with the general public, they could think what they liked about me, but I saw all the women as friends and I had deceived them.

“Maggie, can you call all the girls together, I know that you all will now be aware of the truth about me , and I would like an opportunity to explain, to answer any questions and to take any criticisms from you all about the way I kept the truth from you.”

“It doesn’t really matter to me, we’ve really only known you as Jo, as far as I am concerned that’s who you always were and always will be, I’m sure that the other girls will all think the same. You’ve been a good friend, we’ve had the time of our lives doing the filming with you, there’s no reason for anyone to feel upset or uncomfortable. Anyway you are now going through the process to fully become the woman that we know and love, you might have been a man at one time but that was long ago, you’ve been a woman inside for at least as long as we’ve known you ”

I went over to Maggie’s later to find them all there waiting for me to arrive and was surprised to get a hug and a kiss from every one of them. For the first half-hour or so, I was bombarded with questions, about when my full transition would be, how I felt about it, how long had I wanted to be a woman, how I had so easily convincingly slipped into the role. However after that was all over it was just like any other of our get-togethers, talking about Ostia and the National Trust visits, gossiping about the neighbours, their work colleague, and life in general. Just like with the newspapers my story was soon at the back of their minds and I was just treated as I always had been as Jo.

For the next few months I was extremely busy visiting the National Trust sites, making preparations and filming the video series for them and the associated programmes for Anglia East. Other than the first week or so after the story broke, when it was suggested that I keep a low profile, there were no concerns about my personal situation and surprisingly, considering the age and membership demographic profile of the National Trust membership, there was no significant negative reaction from visitors.

Josie had now taken over from me at the Ostia site, continuing the vlogs and website updates in my place, and getting involved in planning the future operations of the visitor centre, leaving Clara in the capable hands of Karen. The main dig operations at the site were now almost complete, the foundations of several more minor outbuildings had been exposed and there was no ground-penetrating-radar evidence of anything else significant, although like all archaeological sites there would always be further investigations taking place over a wider area.

With all the activity going on I was hardly aware of the constant changes taking place to my body. Obviously the developing breasts were hard to overlook, but the fat distribution from my waist to my bottom only hit me when I had to get some new pairs of trousers to give me a more comfortable fit. Otherwise I was now totally comfortable as a woman, having accepted that it was going be my future.

With all the intense work schedule travelling around the country usually staying away overnight, and attending ante-natal clinics with Karen, I had very little time for a social life, and rarely got to see Darren. I decided that was not fair on him and cleared my diary for a long weekend away with him and gave him a call to meet to make arrangements.

“I’ve been thinking Darren, that I have been neglecting you with everything that is happening at the moment, let’s have a weekend on the town in London, see a show, go to some fancy restaurants, my treat. Are you free this coming weekend?”

“Actually I have commitments, but I would like to see you again to talk through a few things. Can I come round to the house, or meet you in a pub.?”

“Come on round, I’ll order in a takeaway for us.“

“Don’t go to any bother, I can’t stay long, I’ll be there in about half an hour.”

There was something in the tone of his voice that told me something was up, and was quite concerned that maybe he had some serious illness, which was reinforced when he arrived without the normal happy smile on his face and only gave me a quick peck on the cheek rather than a more passionate kiss.

“Sit down Joanne, we need to have a serious talk. You have been so busy recently that we have hardly seen each other, and I am a social animal, I am not comfortable sitting at home watching tv every night. One of my clients invited me for a meal and drink after work a few months ago and I have been seeing her regularly since then. When you first told me that you were transgender, I said that I was comfortable with that but could not commit to a deeper formal relationship at the time and that things could change in the future. I’m sorry, our relationship was a bit whirlwind and we both got caught up in it, but I’ve been doing a lot of soul-searching and although I will always have deep feelings for you, I think it best if we go our separate ways.”

“What, you are dumping me for someone you only met a few weeks ago? I thought that you were better than that. Is this because I am transgender?”

“Not really, though I won’t deny that is part of the reason. I accepted you as a woman, I have only ever known you as such. It’s just that spending time with Stephanie, I have realised that your aims in life are different to mine, your career takes first place every time, and when your child is born I will then be in third place at best. I’m so sorry.”

“I think that you had better leave Darren, before I do something that I’ll regret.” I shouted at him, determined that he had to go before I broke down in tears, and waited until he left before sobbing my heart out.

As I was sitting there wallowing in my disappointment, Karen came into the room and saw me wiping my eyes, red from the tears,

“I heard the door close and Darren’s car leave, I take it that you have not had a happy conversation with him.”

“He’s dumped me for someone he only met a few weeks ago, saying that their relationship is not serious but it has made him realise that my aims in life were not his.”

“You really are a woman now Joanne, having been let down by a man. We’ve all been there, me included, at least he’s not leaving you with his baby to look after like Jack did to me. You probably don’t really believe it right now, but tell yourself that it’s his loss, that he doesn’t deserve you, and that you are better off without him. Who needs men, eh?”

“I never thought that I would say this, but you might be right. Most times men are more trouble than they are worth.”

She put her arms around me in a big hug, and held me for a while until I calmed down a bit. To the surprise of both of us, the hug grew into a passionate kiss and intimate cuddling.

“What happened there Karen?. I can understand that I am sexually confused over whether the change in my gender changes my sexual orientation, but I didn’t realise that you had feelings like that for me too.”

“Joanne, since we met in the café you have shown me more consideration and support than my husband ever did, and have helped me get back my self-confidence, self-respect and love of life. I have been afraid to let my feelings for you develop and show, since you seemed to have settled on a future with Darren. I know that this is all sudden, but I think that I am in love with you. Let’s not go mad and rush into things on the rebound but now that it is out in the open, let’s see what happens.”

“Just like you, I have kept my feelings for you hidden. I thought that I was in love with Darren, but the way he has treated me today I now realise that I was just being carried along on a wave of trying to fit in with my new life as a woman.”

Over the next few weeks we grew ever closer, enjoying our moments of intimacy, not unnoticed by Josie and Jack, who discreetly left us alone in the evenings to explore our new relationship.

One evening we were sitting chatting about where we saw our futures, me with a glass of wine, Karen with an apple juice, and I came to a decision.

“It is not long now before your baby is due, it makes life less complicated with you living here to look after the new baby. I’ll help as much as I can, I want to be a mother to the child alongside you.
It was always intended that Darren would be named as the father on your baby’s birth certificate along with you as the mother, but obviously we can’t do that now. I think that we should put my name there, or at least my former name as Joseph.”

“Will that be legal, I mean you have legally changed your name to Joanne and are transitioning.

“I’ll get it checked out, but at the time the sperm was stored I was obviously still fully male and my birth certificate still says male, so I don’t see why not.”

A visit to my solicitor later in the week confirmed that as the sperm donation was listed under my birth name of Joseph, we could go ahead on that basis after going through a few legal somersaults, and I couldn’t wait to tell Karen the news.”

“That’s super news, I wasn’t looking forward to leaving a blank space for the father’s name.”

“I’ve also been thinking about something else, it may shock you but I hope not. After the baby arrives, we will be sharing parenting duties and living together in the same house. When we talked that first night we kissed and cuddled you said that you had had your fill of men, would you like to share your life with another woman. Karen, will you marry me?”

She sat looking at me in stony silence for what seemed like many minutes, but was in reality only a few seconds.”

“We are an awfully mixed up couple Joanne, I never thought that I could fall in love with another woman, and I’m sure that you thought that your life would be as a wife to Darren, but it seems that the baby is bringing us closer together. Of course I will marry you, come here and give me a hug.”

Our hug was cut short when Karen gave a loud yelp.

“Oh my god, I think the magic of the moment has prompted the baby to decide now is the time to come and face the world, get me to the hospital quickly.”

As it was her second child it came very quickly and she told me a lot easier and with less trouble than she had suffered with birthing Marianne, a bonny healthy bouncing baby boy. I was in there with her holding her hand throughout and when the baby was passed to her to cuddle and then over to me, my emotions were all over the place. I was filled with pride at my new son, delight that Karen had come through it all without any trouble, but strangely a pang of regret that I would never be able to go though the procedure myself.

Life settled into a routine, I had completed my series of commentaries on the National Trust properties which were being very well received by the visiting public and TV audiences and while I was considering my next project I was able to spend a lot of time with Karen and baby Harry Joseph. From the programmes for Anglia East, and the commissions from the Trust, I now had quite a substantial bank balance and was in no rush to restart work, and so we decided to go and spend some time over in Vayrac with my parents who were delighted to meet and spend some time with Harry.The renovation of their house was now almost complete and I helped them with the finishing touches, finding furniture and decorative items at the local markets and brocantes for the house and garden.

I was enjoying the relaxed lifestyle and friendly atmosphere and was chatting one day in a local bistro to an English couple, Jim and Meg, who said that they lived nearby.

“Karen and I and our children, Marianne and Harry are staying with my parents, planning our wedding for later in the year.”

“Why don’t you get married at our place, it’s a small old chateau in it’s own grounds. It could be a bit of a swan song for us, we used to do weddings and events regularly, but it’s all getting a bit much for us now, we will be selling up and moving back to England at the end of the season.”

“I’ll see what Karen thinks, and if it’s ok we will come and have a look.”

“Check out the website first, ‘Chateau du lac’ and if it looks interesting pop over anytime, we are usually around.”

“What do you think Karen, neither of us have big families, so there is no need for a big wedding party. The place looks delightful and with the gite barn conversions and mum and dads place we could easily house everyone that we would want to invite?”

A couple of days later, we left the children with Mum and Dad and drove over to ‘Chateau du lac’. The moment we drove through the ornate gates and saw the fairy-tale façade and formal gardens we fell in love with it. It was not massive but was full of charm, with lots of scenic settings for the wedding photos and Jim and Meg were delightful hosts describing the many events they had hosted there over the years since they had bought and refurbished it. We agreed a price on the spot to hire it for our wedding venue, we couldn’t have made a better choice.

“This place is delightful, why on earth are you thinking of leaving.”

“We’ve had our time here. When we first bought the chateau in was neglected and run down and have spent an awful lot of time money and effort refurbishing the house, grounds, and outbuildings, but it is getting too much for us to manage ourselves now that we are in our seventies, it needs younger people with fresh ideas and enthusiasm to stop it going back to the tired rundown place it was when we bought it. It is a thriving business with weddings, business events and special interest party bookings, and the regular holiday lets in the gites.”

A week later we returned with Mum and Dad to show them what we had found, we hadn’t stopped talking about it since our first visit.

“This place is amazing, so romantic, a wonderful wedding venue.” Mum gushed when we had a second look in more detail. “If we keep it to a small wedding, just immediate family and a few select friends, they could all be put up here, and Josie, Jack and Clara could stay with us.”

“Karen and I have been talking and I have an idea as to what do do next. Jim and Meg want to sell this place, and we are thinking about buying it. I have enough money from the sale of the family house, and a decent bank account from my TV work and suchlike. It would get me away from our hometown where too many people know too much about me. It would let you see Harry growing up, and I think that I could expand the business here to include specialist groups organising tours of all the historic sites in the region. What do you think?”

“The decoration and furnishings are a bit bland and dated and need some modernisation but nothing major, and I’ve learned a lot of new skills doing-up our cottage here and would be more than willing to help.” Dad volunteered. “As we have said before, the family house has been given to you and Josie, although I doubt that she would object to her share of the sale proceeds being spent on the Chateau, Jack is well off enough that she will almost certainly let you have most of it, particularly if you allow her lots of holiday visits. But what would you live on, it’s ok having a romantic dream, but this place will need a lot of money to maintain it in good condition.”

“”According to Jim and Meg, the Chateau business pays it’s way at the moment, but it used to do even better when they had more enthusiasm and energy to run events. There are a lot of fly-on-the-wall documentaries on TV in the UK at the moment featuring people buying holiday properties or businesses, renovating properties and things like that. I think that I could talk Anglia East into doing a series following us refurbishing the place coupled with the historic site tours, which should cover a lot of the initial costs until we get ourselves established.”

Three months later we were the proud owners of Chateau du Lac. As is common in France, after Jim and Meg had cleared what furniture and belongings they wanted to take with them back to England, anything left behind came as part of the house sale, so the Chateau was ready quite quickly for us to move into, although we had lots of plans to redecorate and refurbish the house and estate.

As I had expected Anglia East were delighted to be offered the filming opportunities and signed up to do at least two before-and-after programmes on the improvements to the chateau and a series of travelogues on local history visits. The first tour party, other than those previously booked by Jim and Meg, was my ex-neighbour Maggie along with Emma and Jane with some of the girls who had been on the earlier programmes with us. The broadcasts of the travel visits were a huge success and Anglia East commissioned me to do further series in Spain, Portugal, Italy and Germany which would be enough to keep me busy and generating income for the next few years. As I would be travelling a lot doing the filming of the tours, Karen’s sister Jen who originally get us together, moved over to live with us to help run the business side of things and to help out with the refurbishment and redecoration along with Mum and Dad.

Looking back it was for me, a big stroke of luck when Josie broke her ankle and I had to substitute for her at the job interview. In a short time I had gone from being an almost penniless unemployed ex-student to being a successful TV presenter and personality, and the owner of a magnificent historic property in a beautiful area of France, talk about a lucky break !

The end.