Weird Wednesday by Tanya Allan   Richard Williamson leaves attractive thirty-five year-old Vanessa and their teenage son, Simon, in the lurch for another woman. After a gruelling twelve months, Vanessa is tired of fighting for pennies to just exist. Called to her son’s school, as Simon appears to be having a breakdown, she is at the end of her emotional tether. Simon, on the other hand, driven by equally powerful emotions is determined to make his father pay for his betrayal of his mother and for hurting her so deeply. On the way home from the school they are involved in a freak accident, whereby the car leaves the road and is hit suddenly by thousands of volts of electricity. Simon wakes up in hospital to find he is now in his mother’s body. Lying in the bed next to him is his body, but who’s inside it? Richard, returning to the UK on a false passport to realise some undeclared assets, unwittingly sets off a chain of events that threatens to engulf all. No one took into account a plucky young woman, calling herself Nessa, and her very fresh perspective on life. A baffled young boy, reluctantly answering to the name of Simon finds himself back at school for the second time around, but the first time had been as a girl! The problems double as a way to change back is discovered... but someone decides she doesn’t want to go back to being a boy!

 
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The Legal Stuff:Weird Wednesday  ©2009 Tanya Allan

This work is the property of the author, and the author retains full copyright in relation to printed material, whether on paper or electronically. Any adaptation of the whole or part of the material for broadcast by radio, TV, or for stage plays or film, is the right of the author unless negotiated through legal contract. Any commercial use by anyone other than the author is strictly prohibited.
 
This work is fictitious, and any similarities to any persons, alive or dead, are purely coincidental. Mention is made of persons in public life only for the purposes of realism, and for that reason alone. Certain licence is taken in respect of medical procedures, terms and conditions, and the author does not claim to be the fount of all knowledge.
 
The author accepts the right of the individual to hold his/her (or whatever) own political, religious and social views, and there is no intention to deliberately offend anyone. If you wish to take offence, that is your problem.
 
This is only a story, and it contains adult material, which includes sex and intimate descriptive details pertaining to genitalia. If this is likely to offend, then don’t read it.
 
 
Chapter 11
 
 
Eddie McDonagh was not a happy man. The fact that Richard claimed to have more documents linking him with previous dubious dealings and the laundering of money worried him greatly. It was the one loose end he had to tie up to sever himself from his criminal past. All his interests were now legitimate, albeit built on money gained through his previous trade or calling as a drug dealer and gangster. The protection racket was very lucrative, but he and Stella wanted some respectability in their life these days.

As Nessa watched Sy play Rugby, Eddie’s two ‘associates’ or ‘consultants’ sat in the easy chairs in his office as the man looked out over the Thames. He rarely visited his office on a Saturday, but this was different.

Len Hawes was a small man, but no one ever crossed him. He had a reputation of being completely without any scruples whatsoever. Pay him enough, and he’d dismember his own granny, had she been still alive.

The other man, Reginald Finney, was pure muscle reaching six foot six and over two hundred pounds. There was very little between his ears, which made him exceptionally at doing whatever he was told. He’d been teased at school — once. After he discovered that a single punch stops teasing, he found that physical violence is always the answer, regardless of the question.

“I want those documents, understand, Len?”

“Yeah, Eddie, I understand.”

“I don’t want Mr fucking Williamson to ever be a threat to me and my business again, is that clear?”

“Crystal.”

“Just do it, I don’t care how, just get it done!”

“How much?” Len asked.

“One.”

Len nodded. A hundred thousand was a tidy sum. Eddie must want this man badly.

The two men left and rode down the lift to the street level in silence.

“Lenny?” The big man broke the silence.

“What?”

“What we gonna do?”

“Don’t worry, about that, lets find the fucker first.”

They went to a black Lexus saloon. Reg opened it, sliding behind the wheel. Appearing lumbering and somewhat reminiscent to a diplodocus on his feet, behind a steering wheel, Reg came into his own.

“Where do we start?”

“His ex-missus lives at a place called Little Milton in Oxfordshire. Know it?”

“Nope, you got the map?”

Len dug out the map, and the car took off down the street.
 

*          *          *
 
The game was a hard one, the teams evenly matched. Sy managed to score a try in the latter part of the first half, and they broke at half time at 8 — 8.

Nessa was surprised and thrilled at how well Sy had taken to the game, and was in high spirits. Jacob Carter saw her on the touchline and sauntered over to where she was standing.

He shook hands with the gruff Scotsman, and chatted amiably with her about Simon’s recent improvements in both the scholastic and sporting field.

“His kicking is off form, but he’s running so much faster,” he said, and Nessa laughed.

“Good, he’s probably so terrified of being tackled,” she replied.

“I have to confess to being thoroughly satisfied with how well he’s settled down after your visit to this Professor chappie. Whatever you did, has worked wonders, he’s like a whole new boy!”

Nessa’s eyes lit up and she smiled.

“Oh, thanks, Jacob. You have no idea how wonderful that makes me feel.”

The second half started, and the players seemed to notch up a gear. It was very exciting and Nessa screamed herself hoarse for her son and the school team.

There were a few parents politely clapping and giving the occasional cheer, but Nessa was positively demented with her support.

“Your mum’s a bit loud, isn’t she?” one boy asked Sy.

Sy grinned. “At least she’s here and supporting us,” he said.

“Yeah, my parents can’t be bothered,” said the boy as they parted to a set scrum.

As he waited for the scrum to settle down, Sy looked over to Nessa. She was looking wonderful. Her makeup was perfect and her clothes, from what he could see, were elegant and appropriate. She was laughing and smiling with the Head and the old Scotsman.

Every nuance and mannerism was so exquisitely feminine and right, Sy realised that changing back might be a lot harder than either of them expected.

The game continued and the enemy pressed the team back inside their twenty-two.

The ball was hacked from a loose maul and it bounced awkwardly towards Sy. He grabbed at it and managed to grasp the wet and slithery item without fumbling. Suddenly, the entire might of the opposing team was bearing down on him and he felt real fear.

Fear gave him wings. He tucked the ball under his right arm and took off up the pitch, dodging and jinking as he went. The slow forwards were easy to avoid and he developed a tunnel vision. All he could see was the opposing goalposts. He held his breath and just tried to pump his legs as fast as he could.

An opponent managed to just connect with one foot and he stumbled, correcting himself and recovering to change direction to avoid his opposing winger.

Out of the corner of his left eye, he saw their full back tearing across on intercept mode.

At the last minute, he stopped and bluffed, carrying on again on his original line. The fullback stopped and was too late to catch him. He raced towards the posts, launching himself at the line just as the full back managed to almost grab a leg.

The whistle blew and the try was good!

There was a manic scream of delight from the touchline and Sy grinned as he saw Nessa dancing with delight.

He ran back, collecting pats on the back from his team mates. With little time left, it looked like victory was theirs.

The captain, Mike Clarke, took the kick and converted the tray. The final whistle blew and they’d won!

As Sy basked in the brief glory he’d attained, he came to appreciate this game and the amazing feeling of achievement he now felt. This was the game that trained boys to be heroes.

He joined the others in cheering for the opponents, and collected his tracksuit top from where he’d left it. He ran over to where Nessa and the Head still stood.

“Good game, Simon. Bloody good try, that!” said the Head.

Nessa just smiled and gave him a hug. They didn’t need to say anything.

“I’ll go and change. We have to have tea with the other team,” he said.

“Good chap. Your mother will be joining us for tea in the staff dining room,” Mr Carter told the boy.

He ran off to shower and change.

Sy had just finished his shower and was dressing when Ian Jamieson came up to him. He was still in his rugby strip, as he’d just finished his own match for the Junior Colts.

“I hear you were man of the match, well done.”

“Was I? How did you get on?”

“We drew fifteen all.”

“Did you score?”

“Not this time. It was a tough match.”

“So was ours.”

“We could hear your mum from over on our pitch.”

Sy went a bit red. “She did get excited, sorry.”

“No, it’s brilliant. I wish more parents came and supported us.”

“Oh, are you going home this weekend?”

“Yeah, my Dad’ll be here in an hour or so.”

“Doesn’t he ever come and watch?”

“He’s been to a couple. He said he would if I get into the colts next year and the firsts after that.”

“Does your mum not come and watch?”

“They’re divorced, like yours. My mum is in America with her new bloke. I haven’t heard from her in over a year.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

Ian sat down.

“I don’t like talking about it. But you’ve been there, and worse than I have, so I know you’ll understand. What makes them want to go away?”

Sy saw how hurt Ian was. He recognised that in the macho world of the boy’s school, it was very hard for him to show apparent weakness and give in to his feelings.

“I don’t know. My mum had no idea that Dad was having an affair. He broke the news just before Christmas and we were both devastated. She took it badly and I could see how hurt she was. We cried a lot together, but she’s now fighting back.”

“Your mum’s great. My Dad has sort of shut away his feelings and we don’t talk about it. I don’t even know what happened. I don’t think either was seeing anyone else, but I did hear them argue a lot.”

“What does your dad do?”

“He runs his own company. It’s a computer software company. He deals in technical software for the catering industry. The programs that run mechanised process plants and stuff.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, it’s that dull!”

They both laughed.

“Where do you live?” Ian asked.

“Little Milton, why?”

“I live at Watlington. Do you want to do anything this weekend?”

“Yeah, if you like. I’m not sure what’s happening, but Mum told me that my father was arrested last night.”

“Shit, no?”

“Yeah, but don’t tell anyone. You know what this place is like?”

“Only too well. You poor bugger, what happened?”

Sy shrugged. “I haven’t a clue. Mum will tell me on the way home.”

“Who’s she with, is that her father?”

Sy laughed. “No, believe it or not, that’s the father of the woman who stole my dad.”

“You’re kidding?”

“No, he and mum have ganged up against my Dad. I can’t wait to hear what happened.”

“When you do, let me know, this sounds wicked!”

“Okay. I’d better go. I’ll see you.”

“Yeah, see you.”

Sy had a huge smile on his face as he went off to tea.
 

*          *          *
 
Nessa didn’t say too much on the way home. It was dark when they got home. Gerry refused the offer of a drink.

“I’ve a plane to catch,” he said.

“Oh?”

“I’m going to New Zealand. I think it’s time to bring the prodigal home.”

Nessa smiled and kissed his cheek “Good luck and thanks.”

He said goodbye and drove away. Nessa opened up the house and Sy looked at the strange man sitting in the dark in the hall. He was peering through a special sight in to the garden.

“Who’s that?” Sy asked.

Nessa looked at the man who smiled nodded at her.

“I think his name is Steve, he’s a policeman.”

“What’s he doing here?”

Nessa explained exactly what had happened. Sy’s eyes got bigger and bigger, and it all seemed so surreal.

“Five million?”

“It was probably more, but that’s what the documents showed.”

“Gosh. Look, I’m starving, what’s for supper?” Sy asked.

“Boy, have you adapted or what? How about Pizza?”

“Sounds brilliant.”

“Sy?” Nessa’s voice changed and she came closer.

“What?”

“I need you to teach me to cook. I can’t live off Pizza and stuff all my life.”

“Cost you,” he said and laughing, ran up to change out of his school uniform.
 

*          *          *
 
Len got back into the car.

“They’re back,” he said.

“Good, do we go in now?”

“Not yet. It seems that Mrs Williamson had a friend over. I took his car number, so we can find out who he is. I just want to make sure they are really alone.”

The Lexus was parked in a lay-by some half a mile away. Len had gone out on foot and watched the house for a while. There did not appear to be anyone there, but a BMW arrived with a child, a man and a woman in it. The man drove off in another car, a Jaguar, and the woman and child entered the house. The man hadn’t been Richard Williamson.

“How do we play this?”

“Carefully. The ex-wife isn’t to know about the money. We go and simply ask is she knows where her ex is and then we leave.”

“No rough stuff?”

“Not with her or the kid, yet. If it seems Richard is going to play silly buggers, then we snatch the kid. There’s nothing like a little incentive to make him play ball, is there?”

Reg grinned in the darkness.

The car approached the house and stopped a little way from the front door.

“Turn the car round and wait,” Len said.

He got out, approached the front door, ringing the bell.

A very attractive woman opened the door.

“Yes?” she asked, with a pleasant smile.

“Mrs Williamson. You don’t know me, but my associates had some dealings with your husband. We’re somewhat anxious to locate him, as there are some business documents we need to get sorted out. Do you happen to know where he is?”

The smile vanished and Len was amazed at the transformation on her face.

“My ex-fucking-husband may as well be in hell as far as I’m concerned. He fucked off to New Zealand last year and I’ve not seen the bastard since. The father of his other woman is also after him and I told him the same thing. Don’t know where he is, I don’t want to know where he is and, rest assured, if I see him, I shall be calling the police as there are court orders out for him. He owes me a lot of money, so get in line!”

“So, you haven’t heard from him?”

“No, and that’s a good thing, because if I see the son of a bitch, I’ll probably castrate the bastard!”

Len wasn’t often shocked. He was now, as this very attractive, well-spoken and delightful lady was clearly somewhat irate over her ex-husband.

“Would you call us, should he appear or contact you?”

“Why should I?” she asked, quite reasonably.

Len smiled. “There is a financial implication, and I’m sure that any call made to us will see you compensated to the value that you feel that your husband owes you.”

“Are you serious? Are you telling me that you’ll pay just to find out where he is?”

“That’s it.”

“I won’t ask what line of business you and your associates are in. I have a feeling I don’t need or want to know. Leave me a number, but I doubt he’ll try to contact me. He knows that I’ll make his life miserable!”

Len handed her a card with a single mobile number and the name -Mr Smith.

She looked at it and flicked the edge with an elegantly varnished nail.

“Mr Smith, like I believe that!” she said and smiled again.

Len blushed slightly and gave a very rare smile in return.

“Thanks for being so, ah, so understanding, Mrs Williamson. I understand that should some unfortunate accident occur involving your EX- husband, you wouldn’t feel too unhappy?”

“Do bears shit in the woods?” she said. “Goodbye, MR SMITH,” she said and closed the door.

Len was still chuckling when he returned to the car.

“What’s so funny, Lenny?”

“Just drive. He won’t come here. Shit, Reg, it’s not often I meet a woman I admire, but I just have!” Len said, and he picked up the telephone to call Eddie.
 
 
Chapter 12
 
 
Monday morning was grey and dismal. December arrived with driving rain and a feeling of depression in the air. At least it did for Richard Williamson.

He was in a police cell, having been charged with a holding charge of false accounting, been before a court and remanded back into police custody for other matters to be investigated. Immigration officers were also aware of his illegal entry and as a British subject, they had handed the passport forgery/alteration over to the police. Without even looking at anything other than his personal books, he was facing at least five years imprisonment.

He had no idea where he was. He knew he was somewhere in the Midlands. That was one relief, as it was less likely that Eddie could locate him this far from London.

The Superintendent hadn’t pressed him about Eddie, and he’d refused to say anything in interview, apart from the words, ‘No Comment’.

He’d been left without human contact for six hours since his breakfast had been brought at seven. The court had given the police six days to continue the investigation into the multi-million pound fraud, and he knew he would have to deal if he ever wanted to be free again.

The gaoler brought him a heated up microwave meal for lunch, with a cup of unsweetened tea.

“Can I speak to the Superintendent, please?” he asked.

The man grunted and nodded, leaving him alone again. He ate the meal and read the two-day-old Daily Telegraph for the seventh time. An hour later, the key rattled in the lock and the heavy door swung open.

The gaoler waved Richard to leave the cell. He shuffled out with his beltless jeans loose around his waist. He slipped on his shoes, which were left outside his door.

He followed the man down the corridor, past the desk where a shoplifter was being booked in, and then to an interview room. The Superintendent was there waiting for him, a uniform Inspector was also with him.

“Sit down Mr Williamson. Do you want your solicitor?” the Superintendent asked.

“No.”

“Before we start, I need to be certain that you are willing to be further interviewed about other matters that have not been discussed before and that you are happy to be interviewed without a solicitor present?” the inspector asked.

“Yes.”

The Inspector asked him to sign a record to that effect.

The Inspector left and another detective came in and sat down next to Superintendent Harris.

The detective put two tapes in the machine and they waited until the bleep.

“My name is Detective Superintendent Edward Harris, and we are in interview room number three at Queens Road Police Station, Birmingham………
 

*          *          *
 
Fast Eddie didn’t like Mondays either. He’d listened to Len with interest. It seems that Gerry McCallum and Mrs Williamson had combined forces to locate the missing man as well. Len’s assessment of the ex-wife made him smile. Len was an exceptional judge of character, and in happier circumstances, Eddie would like to meet this woman.

A man can’t just vanish, he thought, and then smiled ruefully. Over the years he’d made several men vanish, hoping that some motorway bridges and Docklands foundations wouldn’t be disturbed for his lifetime at least.

He had his snouts out at every prison and police station in London and the Home Counties. He was as certain as he could be that the Old Bill didn’t have him. Eddie hoped that he would be sensible and that if he was nicked, he’d keep quiet. Eddie was confident that he would, as if he didn’t, not only would he never get his money, but he’d also incur Eddie’s wrath, and that would not be good!

The day dragged, business came and went and he made another million on a new development in Essex.

He was just about to leave for the day when his secretary buzzed him with a call.

“He won’t give a name, sir, just that you’d know the voice.”

“Put him through, Cheryl.”

“McDonagh, who is this?” Eddie asked.

“You know who this is.”

“Richard, well, well, well. You scared me, boy.”

“Don’t you send your men around to my ex-wife again. She has nothing to do with this.”

“Listen, my friend, unless we come to an understanding, you never know what sort of accidents happen. School busses are notorious for their poor maintenance records.”

“Leave my family alone!”

“Your family? That’s good. You fucked off, Ricky boy, and from what I hear, your ex isn’t high on your list of fans.”

“Be that as it may. This is between you and me.”

“We have an appointment on Thursday. Still willing to meet?”

“Yes.”

“I want everything you have.”

“You’ll get it, but I want my cash.”

“Your cash? Moot point, Ricky, but I’ll bring the money.”

“I’ve one document I’ll keep and call you with its location after I’m out of the country. That way I get to stay alive to get away.”

Eddie respected and expected that.

“When do you want to do this?” Eddie asked.

“Have you the cash?”

“I can get it in a couple of hours.”

“Then let’s do it today. I’ll meet you anywhere you want, say at midnight.”

“Midnight? Why that late?”

“Less people about, quieter and I can get the early plane out for New Zealand tomorrow. There’s nothing in this country for me any more.”

“Double-cross me, Ricky, and you’re dead!”

“Double-cross me, Eddie, you’re a prison number.”

Eddie nodded.

“Midnight, then. Tower Bridge.”

The phone went dead.

Eddie put it down and looked out at the grey river and the grey city.

He picked up the phone again, punching in a number.

“Len, tonight, mate. Get Reg.”

He then punched in another number.

“Stan? Listen mate, does your cousin still do a bit of freelance in New Zealand?”
 

*          *          *
 
Richard handed the phone to the Superintendent. His hands were shaking.

“I need to make sure my family is safe.”

“We’ve armed officers at the house.”

“Not them. Shit, in Vanessa’s frame of mind, I’d put money down on the villains coming off worse. I mean my family in New Zealand!”

The Superintendent stared at him. Slowly, he nodded.

“I’ll make a call.”
 

*          *          *
 
Nessa was also suffering from that Monday Morning feeling. It was nothing to do with the weather, the season or even the day. It had everything to do with being a healthy fertile female.

“Fucking hell! What a mess! URGH!” she shouted, frightening the policeman on duty down in the hall.

Feeling like shit and swearing every inch of the way, she went to take a shower and read the instructions on the box of Tampax. The shower improved her slightly, and once she worked out how to insert the tampon, she felt a little more like a human being.

After getting dressed, she stripped the sheets and took them to the washing machine in the utility room, liberally adding detergent into the drawer provided.

Sitting drinking a strong sweet black coffee, she glowered at the policeman who popped his head around the door.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Oh yeah, fine!” she said. He was married, so recognising the signs, he grinned, withdrawing hurriedly.

She found one of Vanessa’s home doctor type books and looked up periods. Heavy bloated feeling — yes, pain — yes, headache — yes, bleeding and tender boobs — yes.

“Fuck, four to six days of this!” she said, shut the book and poured out another coffee.

It had been a lovely weekend. Sy had been on a high after the rugby and on hearing that Richard was deep in the shit. They’d had a quiet evening in, eating Pizzas and watching old films on the DVD player.

On going to bed, Sy admitted that he actually was quite enjoying being thirteen again, even if now as a different gender than the last time.

“I can’t get over how different boys are. They really are less complex and scheming. I’m remembering all my lessons, and find maths fun for the first time ever. The teacher is a real hoot.”

Nessa smiled. “Good, but don’t get too embedded, we still have to try to swap back,” she said.

“Yeah. I just want you to know that if it doesn’t happen, I won’t be that depressed. Goodnight.”

To Nessa’s surprise, Sy went to his own room and never quibbled at all about bedrooms or roles.

The phone ringing woke Nessa on Sunday morning. Not very good at getting up early, she noted it was nine thirty and answered the phone by the bed.

“Mrs Williamson, this is Howard Jamieson.”

Nessa had a blank moment.

“I’m Ian Jamieson’s father. He’s a friend of your Simon at school.”

“Oh, right, sorry, miles away. Hello.”

“I’m sorry if this is a bad moment, but Ian was wondering if Simon was free today, perhaps for lunch?”

“Well, it’s just the two of us and we’ve nothing planned. I do need to talk to him about some personal problems. It’s very kind of you. Can I ring you back?”

“I’m sorry, this is so rude of me. Ian has just told me a little of your circumstances. I feel a complete idiot. Why don’t you both come over? We could go out to a pub for lunch or something. My cooking isn’t that hot.”

Neither is mine, buster, Nessa thought.

“That sounds lovely. Where?”

“Have you ever been to the Barley Mow at Clifden Hampden?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“It’s a lovely pub on the Thames. It’s actually mentioned in J.K. Jerome’s book, Three Men in a Boat.”

“Sound’s fun. What time?”

“Half past twelve?”

“Lovely. See you there.”

Nessa dragged herself to the shower and having washed and dried her hair, done her nails, makeup and dressed in a very stylish black dress with white piping, she was still downstairs before Sy.

He appeared at eleven, looking sheepish.

“I haven’t slept that long in ages!” he said.

“Get smart, we’re going out for lunch,” Nessa said.

“Why?”

“Because we’ve been invited out by someone called Howard Jamieson and his son Ian. Remember, he’s a friend of yours apparently.”

Sy realised she was teasing him, as she knew Ian as well.

“Care to tell me why your leading man suddenly is missing you enough to ask you to lunch?”

“Nessa, it’s not like that!”

“Looks like a crush to me!”

“It’s not. He’s hurting too. His mum lives in America, and unlike us, he’s never discussed things with his dad.”

“Oh. Is his dad juicy?”

“Nessa!”

“Sorry, bad taste. You really must get used to calling me Mum, or something. Nessa is a little odd, don’t you think?”

“Alright, MUM,” Sy said with a laugh.

“Go and get changed. Jeans are too scruffy.”

“Aw, Mum!”

“Shut up!”

Both dissolved into giggles, but Sy went and changed.

Nessa’s driving meant they were five minutes early at the pub. There was a car park on the opposite side of the narrow road, and the pub itself was an old thatched building. Although several fires occurring in recent times meant it had been thoroughly renovated and restored internally.

Clifden Hampden was a tiny quaint village with an ancient narrow bridge that crossed the Thames. Most of the homes were 12th to 15th century and it was the archetypal English scene.

They went into the pub, and found it warm and cosy. Log fires burned, and the atmosphere was welcoming.

“Simon!”

Ian was already here and he came over to Nessa and Sy.

“We’ve got a table in the back room. Come on through.”

They followed him under low beams and found themselves in a tiny room with only a couple of tables and a log fire.

Howard Jamieson was forty, six foot, with sandy hair, and looked just an older version of his son. He stood as Nessa approached.

She took off her coat, finding Ian attentively helping her.

“Hello, you must be Vanessa, I’m Howard,” he said, and held out his hand.

“Call me Nessa, I’ve never liked Vanessa that much. My mother used to call me it when I was in trouble.” She shook his hand, smiling as she saw his eyes flick down to her breasts and then to her long legs.

“Low in here, I nearly biffed my head,” she said.

“You’re quite tall for a girl. I had to bend double to get in,” Howard said.

She sat next to him. He smiled and asked if she would like a drink.

“A dry white wine would be fine, thanks.”

He disappeared with the boys and returned with the drinks.

The boys chatted away about rugby and Nessa looked around the room.

“This is cosy,” she said.

“I like it. I haven’t been here for years. They say the food is very good.”

The menus were written in chalk on large blackboards. They all selected what they wanted and Howard placed their orders. The boys found a one armed bandit so Howard and Nessa returned to their table.

“Simon says we belong to the same club,” Nessa said.

“Club?”

“The abandoned and divorced club!”

“Oh, yes, I suppose so.”

“I’m sorry. It may be a bit of a sore subject. Found that by talking about it, somehow it becomes easier,” she said.

“I confess that I probably haven’t spoken about it as much as I should. It still hurts.”

“Welcome to the club. My ex had been screwing another woman and then buggered off so she could have their baby.”

Howard frowned.

“Ours was different. There wasn’t anyone else, she just went a bit strange on me.”

“Strange?”

“We married quite young, she was nineteen. We tried for a family, and after several miscarriages, Ian came along. Unfortunately, Theresa developed quite bad post-natal depression and, to be honest, never was quite the same again. The arguments got worse and eventually things just became unbearable. I still loved her, but we just couldn’t live together. She left, went on some medication and met an American doctor.”

“Was he treating her?”

“No. She went out to America with another girlfriend she met in a clinic. She met the doctor on a beach in California. I’m very happy for her.”

“Do you have contact from her?”

“Not really. Ian got a card and a cheque on his birthday last month, and she forgot even to sign the cheque.”

“How’s he taking it?”

“He seemed to be okay, bur recently I’ve noticed he’s been withdrawn and miserable. I think school is fine, with its routines and busy activities. He’s not alone with his thoughts, as he is here. I seem to lose myself in work and that means I tend not to dwell on things much. When I do talk about it, the emotions become too much and I just have to stop.”

Nessa saw the tears well up in his eyes and instinctively she reached out and touched him on the arm.

“Then let’s not dwell on it now. I’m sorry to have hit a nerve.”

He smiled, and looked down at her hand on his arm. It was a very pretty hand, the nails were slender and shaped, varnished a quiet red colour and in line with her very elegant appearance.

She exuded warmth and confidence and he liked her.

“How about you, how are you bearing up?” he asked, liking the feel of her hand on his arm.

“Oh, better now. It’s all turned out rather complicated, I can’t tell you much, as there’s a lot going on. We’ll just see if I can come out with enough money to keep the house. Perhaps I’ll have to sell and sell my body on the streets of Oxford.”

He was shocked for a moment and then realised she was teasing. He laughed.

At that moment, Ian and Simon returned. Ian stared at his father in frank disbelief. He was laughing and Ian hadn’t seen or heard him laugh for months. He saw Nessa’s hand on his arm and he smiled.

Their starters appeared and the boys sat down. Nessa found herself even closer to Howard and smiled slightly. The mood changed and the chatter was mainly of school and the play. Nessa teased Simon about his female role and to her surprise, Ian defended his decision.

“I think he’s very brave. Most people wouldn’t dream of taking a role like that, but it shows guts and a real determination to take acting seriously. He’s very good, too.”

As Nessa enjoyed a tease with the boys, Howard watched her. She was very attractive. Her auburn hair was streaked with copper and gold that appeared perfectly natural. Her eyes were so full of fun and laughter and everything about her pleased him greatly. He couldn’t remember finding a woman that appealed to him as she did.

They had a very happy lunch and after Howard paid, Nessa kissed his cheek. The boys both made rude noises and yet he had liked the kiss more than he would ever admit.

After they had parted, for the first time since his wife had left him, Howard had another woman on his mind. He also had a smile on his face, which his son found wonderful.

Sy teased Nessa all the way home.

“You flirt!”

“Shut up!”

“I’m amazed you didn’t write your number on your knickers and give them to him.”

“He knows my number and anyway, I’m not wearing any knickers.”

“Nessa!”

“Got you!”

“Tart!”

“Well, how was you first double date, yours seemed nice?”

“Nessa, don’t be smutty.”

“Seriously, we are getting in rather too deep,” Nessa said and both stopped smiling.

“What makes you say that?”

“I was attracted to him and I know he was to me. It would be so easy, Sy, so bloody easy. What the hell happens then? I don’t know if I want to go back to being a boy, in any case.”

Sy was quiet.

“I could go back. I still miss being me,” he said, and then became aware that Nessa was crying.

“Nessa, what’s up?”

“I’m a girl. I don’t want to go back to being a boy. I adore being a woman and I’d happily go back to being thirteen, but not as a boy. I’d rather lose the twenty-two years and stay like this than go back to being Simon.”

Sy nodded. He’d guessed, and this confirmed it.

“Have you had the curse yet?” he asked.

“I am at the moment, why?”

“Does it change your mind.”

“Hmph, no!”

They arrived home and Nessa was still slightly depressed. Sy showed Nessa some basic recipes, and tricks like making a roué, and then a white sauce. They had fun in the kitchen and after supper, Nessa drove Sy back to school. She was just driving out when she had to stop to let Howard drive in through the main gates.

Howard stopped and lowered the window. Nessa did the same.

“I just wanted to say thanks. I can’t remember when I enjoyed myself as much,” he said.

“It was fun. Perhaps we could get together this week?” she said.

“I’d like that, may I ring you?”

“Of course.”

“Thanks, bye.”

They passed and Nessa drove home with a smile on her face.
 

*          *          *
 
Ian sought out Sy in his house. He was in the common room, reading a Neville Shute Novel, A Town Like Alice.

“Hi Simon,” he said.

“Oh, Ian, hi.”

“That was a good lunch.”

“Yeah. It was.”

“My dad’s cheered up. I can’t remember seeing him this cheerful since Mum left.”

“That’ll be because of mum. I think they fancied each other.”

“I like your mum. She’s fun. She’s not all stuffy like most grown ups. She’s very pretty too, even though she’s quite old.”

“She’s only thirty five!” said Sy, slightly hurt.

“Like I said, old,” said Ian, teasing his friend.

Sy grinned and said nothing.

“You’re very like her, aren’t you?”

“In what way?” Sy asked, realising they’d been here before.

“You’re slim like her, your voices are similar, and you have the same colour eyes and hair.”

“That’s genetics for you.”

“Yeah, I suppose.”

Ian sat down. “What do you reckon makes boys — boys, and girls — girls?”

“That’s a bit deep. Chance I suppose, why?” asked Sy.

“I’ve often wondered why I was born a boy. I mean, I don’t want to be a girl, but I think it would be nice to choose. Say, live up to ten as neither, and then depending on who you are, you could choose to be a boy or girl.”

“What if you make the wrong choice?” Sy asked, wondering where the boy was going with this.

“Then you get to thirteen to change your mind, but once puberty hits, then you have to stay as you are.”

Sy was silent. This was quite deep and he didn’t know what Ian was leading to.

“If you could choose, would you be a boy or a girl?” Ian asked.

“I dunno. I’d stay as what I know, I suppose,” Sy said, hedging neatly.

“Yeah, me too.”

Something was bothering Ian.

“Look, something is bothering you, what is it?” Sy asked.

Ian looked around to see if anyone was listening.

“I just, no, this is stupid.”

“Go on, it’s worrying you, obviously.”

“Well, when you do the readings for your part as Julia, you almost turn into a girl, and it screws me up completely.”

“I turn into a girl?” Sy asked, a little shocked.

“Shh, no, almost, I said. You sound and act like a girl. It is so strange, but I almost believe you turn into a girl for a short time!”

“Ian, this is weird! Are you gay?” Sy didn’t like asking the question, but it was the expected response for a boy his age.

“No! I don’t fancy you or anything, not like this. I just think about you as a girl, like a sister or something. As I said, it’s so stupid.”

Sy looked at Ian.

“No, Ian, it’s not stupid. If I was a girl, I’d fancy you, but I’m not and I don’t so that’s the end of it. If a miracle ever happens, and I wake up one morning to find that I’m a younger edition of my mother, I take it you’d like the second call?”

“Second call?”

“Yeah, I think my mother would want to know first.”

Ian smiled but was unsure how to take what Sy had said. He left a seriously confused young man.

“Shit!” said Sy, as one more complication leaped onto the pile.
 
 
Chapter 13
 
 
Nessa finished her second coffee and heard a commotion in the hall. The Superintendent walked into the kitchen, closely followed by Richard.

“What’s he doing here?” she asked.

“This ends tonight, one way or the other. Richard has agreed to cooperate and is assisting us to nail McDonagh.”

“That doesn’t answer my question,” Nessa said, glaring at Richard, who had yet to meet her eyes.

Ted turned to Richard.

“Well?” he said.

“I asked to come,” Richard said, making eye contact for the first time. Vanessa looked even more attractive today and he felt that greasy feeling of regret and foolishness stir deep within him.

“So?”

“Vanessa, I’ve been a complete fool. I just wanted to tell you that I am bitterly sorry for leaving, the way I left, and the hurt I caused both you and Simon. Now I know what I did was wrong, and you didn’t deserve what happened. I was completely selfish, irresponsible and as you so eloquently put it, an utter bastard.

“I know that I have ruined any chance of maintaining any form of relationship with you, but I’d like to think that Simon could, at some time in the future, forgive me enough to remember that I am his father. Whatever happens over the next few days and weeks, that will never be taken away, so please tell him that I still love him, and that I ask him for his understanding and forgiveness in time.”

Richard slumped, as if this speech had been something he’d been working up to. Nessa felt curiously detached and yet in another sense, she was deeply moved by what he had said. She didn’t show it, except for some extra moisture in her eyes.

“It’s a bit late now to play the contrite husband!” she said, her voice even and showing no emotion.

He nodded, the Superintendent looking faintly embarrassed.

“Richard, we’re no longer married and, whatever happens, you are still Simon’s father. Any decisions he makes regarding you, are his to make. Just don’t expect miracles and not for a long time. That boy is seriously hurt and you screwed his life up completely. In fact, you seem to have fucked up everyone with whom you’ve had dealings. I feel just as sorry for Susannah and the baby, as anyone.

“You’re a fool Richard. You had so much and yet you wanted more. In the end you risk losing everything and for what?”

He looked into those eyes again, and was surprised to see compassion as well as the hurt. Guilt lay heavy on his soul and he sighed.

“Goodbye, Vanessa, I’m sorry,” he turned and walked out, the policeman nodded to her and followed.

“Okay, let’s do it!” She heard Richard say.
 

*          *          *
 
Senior Constable Andrew Rawlings of the NZ Police parked his car at the front of the Seaview Hotel on the outskirts of Dargaville. He walked up the steps and into the lobby.

It was a small hotel, like many guesthouses in this area. No more that a dozen rooms and a small bar/dining area. A pretty, blonde woman came out of the office; there was a baby in a carry crib close by.

“Hello, can I help you?”

“Yes, are you Susannah Williamson?”

“Yes, oh my God! It’s Richard, isn’t it? What’s happened?”

“Can we go some where private, Mrs Williamson, please?”

“Oh shit! Is he all right, just answer me that?”

“He’s fine, as far as I know. Please, Mrs Williamson?”

They went into the office and Susannah sat down.

“Your husband is involved in a complicated matter and all I can say is that he’s in some trouble relating to business affairs from a few years back. I’ve been asked to call on you and to ask whether anyone strange has come by recently?”

“Strange? It’s mid summer and the tourists come through every day. Of course there are strangers.”

“I mean people who are out of place, unusual, not like your average tourist or guest?”

“Not really. To be honest, I don’t take a lot of notice. With my husband gone, I’m on my own with two local girls to run the place. It’s all I can do to keep the place going and look after the baby.”

“I’ve been asked to fit a personal attack alarm. I’ll put it in your bedroom. If anything untoward or strange happens, then press the button that activates it.”

“Why do I need it?”

“They didn’t tell me much, Mrs Williamson. It seems that your husband may be involved with some men who may attempt use you as a lever for some reason. It’s probably nothing, but it’s best to be careful.”

“But they’re in England?”

“Maybe so, but it is just a phone call away,” said the officer.

The girl started to cry. Everything was going wrong. She’d fallen in love with a man who was married and to such an attractive woman too. He was reluctant to leave his wife, but when Susannah fell pregnant, it was the last straw and he literally cut and run. Susannah felt really sorry for the wife and child he left, but he’d told her he’d made more than adequate financial settlement.

However, when his ex-wife had chased him to New Zealand, she found out that he’d done nothing of the kind. It had been a hard year for them all and once the divorce came through, she almost refused to marry him. For the sake of the baby, she’d done so and after one month, he’d left to return to England, supposedly to collect a fortune that was owed to him.

Susannah had been in love and had had such dreams. The dreams were turning into a nightmare. She took the officer up to her room and watched as he installed it, attaching it to the phone line.

“Just press this if you get frightened, okay?”

She nodded and felt the tears well up again. The officer felt sorry for the English girl. He’d been told a lot more than he passed on to her, and was aware, for example, that it was highly unlikely that Mr Williamson would be returning to New Zealand in the short term.

After placing the alarm in her room, the officer had finished his assigned task. He nodded to Susannah and made to leave. She went with him downstairs and stopped dead when she reached the lobby.

Standing in the middle of the lobby was her father.

“Daddy!”

She broke down and ran to him. He enveloped her in his large arms and held her close. The officer smiled and walked out.

Susannah was weeping uncontrollably now and Gerry simply held her. A baby started to cry, causing her to start to regain some semblance of control.

“I take it that’s my granddaughter?”

Susannah smiled through her tears.

“I’m so sorry, Daddy, I’ve made such a bloody mess of everything.”

“Aye, lass, ye have at that,” he agreed and smiled at her.

“Oh, Daddy what do I do?”

Gerry looked round the scruffy little hotel lobby.

“Well, I’m flying back home in a week. I’m hoping to take you and the baby with me.”

“What about Richard?”

“Richard is rather busy at the moment. I think he’d prefer it if you were being well looked after.”
 

*          *          *
 
Nessa was feeling so lousy, she didn’t feel like doing anything much. She reflected on the words that Sy had imparted relating to the curse and smiled ruefully. Regardless of the discomfort she was currently experiencing, she would still prefer to remain female.

The phone rang. She answered it in the kitchen. It was Professor Burton.

“Ah, I have some news,” he said.

“Oh yes?” she said, guardedly.

“Yes indeed. By your tone, I take it you are not that keen to rectify the situation, young lady?”

“I don’t know, professor. I know I adore being a woman and an adult. I think I could cope being a teenager again if I could be a girl. I just don’t want to be a boy.”

“Fascinating, absolutely fascinating. You could be a study in your own right! Anyway, it may be academic in any case, as I think I can recreate the conditions that instigated the initial change. I am still convinced that the mental state of both you and your mother are crucial to the whole scenario. If you are unwilling to change back, you could scupper the whole project.”

“I’m not unwilling, I just have preferences. I accept that it is reasonable and natural to return things to the way they were and I know my mother would like to pick up her life again. It’s selfish of me to have the desires I do, but I can’t help the way I feel.”

“Hmm, be that as it may. I think I’ll have everything set up by the end of next week. I was able to ascertain the exact voltage of the power cables and even the depth of the water in the ditch. I’ve even started building a steel frame with two old car seats in it, with rubber wheels to insulate it from the earth. Can you and your mother come down week after next week?”

“What day?”

“Friday would be good.”

“You can do it that soon?” she asked, horrified.

The rich chuckle of the professor came over the line.

“My dear, your disappointment is almost tangible. I doubt we could actually do the dreaded deed that soon, but we can certainly start the fiddly bits. As for your unique situation, I have a suggestion…….”
 

*          *          *
 
It was raining and the streets were slick and dark. The streetlights glowed orange and white, the rain dampening light and sounds equally. Traffic had died away to occasional vehicles swishing past, spaying any unfortunate pedestrians, of whom there were few.

Richard sat in the back of the unmarked police car. His mouth was dry and he felt afraid, more afraid than at any time in his life. The Superintendent sat next to him and sat staring out of the window. His earpiece made slight noises, indicating he was listening to his men as they got into position.

Richard was hot, not only because his nerves made him sweat, but also the body armour was incredibly warm.

“Are you sure Susannah is safe?” he asked, breaking the silence.

“Her father is with her and the local police have everything is hand.”

Richard was surprised.

“Her father? How did he get to know where she was?”

“It seems she emailed him for money.”

Richard fell silent, feeling guilty that here was a second wife he’d let down.

“I really have fucked up, haven’t I?”

“I couldn’t possibly comment, Mr Williamson. But, it might appear to be so.”

“If anything happens to me, can you make sure the girls are looked after?”

“Which girls would that be, sir?”

Richard laughed.

“I haven’t any others, just Vanessa and Susannah.”

“That’s one more than most of us, sir.”

“Whatever, could you?”

“I’ll do what I can. It depends on how much we seize from Mr McDonagh.”

Richard fell silent, looking at the clock on the dashboard. Half an hour until the meeting was due.

The Superintendent handed over the documents in the case.

“McDonagh believes me to be booked on a flight out tomorrow morning,” Richard said.

“You name is on the flight, Air New Zealand at 07:10.”

Richard nodded.

“I take it I won’t be on the flight?”

“You take it correctly.”

“Okay, let’s get this over with,” he said, and got out of the car and started to walk towards the bridge.
 

*          *          *
 
Eddie was in a small warehouse on the south side of Tower Bridge, some four hundred yards from the bridge itself.

A small walkie-talkie squawked into life.

“He’s on his way. Walking down from the north.”

Eddie nodded and turned to Len.

“Go meet him, Len.”

“What about the cash?”

“Take it all. Tell him the rest will be sent to him on receipt of the missing document.”

“He won’t fall for that.”

“No, I don’t expect he will. I think Mr Williamson will cut his fucking losses, don’t you?”

“If he doesn’t?”

“Tell him that baby Gail may well be an orphan if he doesn’t cooperate. I want that document, Len, so persuade the bastard to hand it over. Otherwise, he’s not flying anywhere!”

“Gotcha, how far do you want me to go to persuade him?”

“Len, you silly fucker, I want him to be able to hand it over, so no rough stuff, not until I’ve got it, right?”

“And once you’ve got it?”

“Dead men tell no tales, Len, you know that!”

Len nodded and walked out into the damp night. His colleague, Reg, joined him and they headed north together.
 

*          *          *
 
The police marksman positioned on the top of a tall building adjacent to the bridge watched the two men approach. He had also seen two more men on the upper sections of the bridge, dressed in dark clothing, obviously looking out for police or other interested parties.

He gave a commentary to the control. Two other similar officers secreted on other buildings were able to watch the building where McDonagh was seen to enter some fifty minutes earlier. They’d been in position two hours ahead of the appointed time.

“It’s not McDonagh.”

The Superintendent frowned. They’d discussed this possibility and he hoped Richard would stick to the plan.

Richard reached the centre of the bridge. The lights along the embankments gave the Thames a fairy-like appearance. He stood and waited; listening and trying not to look at the police observers he knew were out there.

Two figures approached him. One a big man and his companion much smaller. Neither was McDonagh. They stopped a few feet away.

“Mr Williamson. Mr McDonagh sends his regards and asks that you give me the case. I have your money here,” the smaller man said, holding up as similar brief case.

“Sorry. I’ll only deal with Eddie.”

“Don’t be childish, Mr Williamson. It will work this way, or not at all.”

“Then it won’t work then. I’ll give this to the police and take my chances with the courts.”

Len stared at the man for an age, trying to assess whether this was a bluff.

“What’s it to be?” Richard asked.

“Wait here,” Len said and turned and walked away. Richard noted he took the case of money with him and left the large man behind.

Richard walked over to the side of the bridge and stared downstream. He thought about how foolish and naíve he’d been. Greed does strange things to a man. He’d lost sight of what was important, and as a result was on the verge of losing everything that was of real value.

He sighed, and recalled the flashing angry eyes of Vanessa when he’d finally apologised. Only now he’d lost her did he fully appreciate her beauty and depth of character. He’d lost his son as well and if Susannah was back with her parents, there was another failure to add to his list of failures.

He looked down into the black inky swirling water and actually wondered what it would be like to drown.

His problems would be over. Vanessa could get on with her life, Susannah was young enough to find someone else and Simon would never have to worry that he was going to come back into his life. It was quite an attractive proposition. A voice broke into his thoughts.

“Ricky boy, you have pissed me off! Why get me out on a cold and wet night like this?”

Richard turned and saw Eddie. The other two men were a short distance behind him. Richard knew now that there was a good chance he’d never get off this bridge alive. He smiled, unless he was still alive before he hit the water.

Eddie was in an immaculate camel hair coat with a dark velvet collar.

“Hello Eddie. Let’s pretend we can do business,” Richard said, his voice flat and devoid of emotion.

Eddie narrowed his eyes. Richard had changed. Gone was the pleading and desperate man of a few days ago. Here was a man who knew he had nothing to lose. In which case, here was a man who could be very dangerous!

“All right, Ricky. Simple transaction, you give me everything you have and I give you all the money.”

Richard nodded. “That sounds fair.”

“I mean, everything you’ve got, no holding back for insurance. We need to have a little trust here, Ricky. Know what I mean?”

Richard snorted. “Trust? Do me a favour. If I give you everything, I may as well top myself to save your men there the trouble.”

Eddie smiled. “That wouldn’t be sensible, now would it?”

“What wouldn’t? Topping myself, or giving you to the authorities?”

“Either or both. Look, you are the only person who can threaten my future, so, I admit that I’m being slightly cautious and am concerned. You see, if you’ve sold me out, then you are a dead man. If you haven’t, then I need to make sure you are never going to be able to threaten me again. I need to cover all my bases.”

“Eddie, you still don’t understand, do you. If I don’t get the money, my life is worth absolutely nothing, and I don’t care if you kill me. No one gives a shit anymore, least of all me!”

“Here’s what we do then, Ricky boy. You give me that case in exchange for this one. Then you and me are going to go and pick up anything you’ve put by for a rainy day. I will take you to Heathrow, and put you on the flight you’ve booked. Yes, Richard, I checked.

“I also happen to know that an associate of mine is in New Zealand, and baby Gail is going to be an orphan if you don’t give me everything. Do we understand each other?”

Richard nodded. “You’re a bastard, McDonagh.”

“You’re an amateur, Ricky. You should never have played with the big boys if you didn’t know the rules.”

“Just leave my family alone. I’ll give you your fucking documents.”

Eddie put his case down and stepped close.

Richard handed over the document case.

Eddie opened it then and there, on the pavement.

“Okay, the transaction account slip isn’t here.”

“No, it’s safe.”

“I want it. Richard!”

“You’ll get it.”

Eddie raised a hand, and a large Lexus appeared from the south.

“In!” he said and Richard got in.

Eddie climbed in beside him, clutching the money case to his chest, the car taking off at speed.

“Where is it?”

“Heathrow, the left luggage lockers. I was going to mail it to you before I boarded the flight.”

“Then let’s deal personally. You’ll still get your flight.”

The driver was a young West Indian man and he kept a keen look in his mirrors for any sign of pursuit or surveillance vehicles.

“Got a tail, Harvey?” asked Eddie.

“Not yet.”

The Metropolitan Police helicopter, India Nine-nine, was flying very high and was able to track the car better than any ground units. It tracked them all the way to Heathrow.

The car sped through the tunnel to the Central Terminal Area, coming to a halt outside Terminal Three. Richard was ushered out and into the building. The left luggage office was open, even though there were few flights between 23:00 and 06:30 there were still people about, including armed police officers.

Eddie felt uncomfortable, as he was off his turf here.

The Superintendent was concerned, but felt happier when he heard that his men arrived and were deployed into the terminal. He himself took his group of detectives to a location closer to Tower Bridge than Heathrow.

Richard collected his envelope from the office and handed it over to Eddie. Eddie opened the envelope and looked relieved.

He looked at his watch.

“All right Richard, I’ll bid you farewell. We won’t meet again. My associates will wait with you and assist you to board your plane in the morning.”

With that he turned and walked out.

Len and Reg appeared and stood a little distance away. Richard smiled, sat down opened the case and started counting his money.

Eddie sat in the back of the Lexus, reading through the documents that Richard had surrendered. They were damaging, showing dates and amounts. In the wrong hands, this could show Eddie’s business empire for what it was, built on the proceeds of organised crime. Eddie was amazed at some of the details that Richard had acquired and he admitted increasing respect for the middle class businessman. The man had been nothing if not thorough.

It was nearly two in the morning as Harvey pulled into the car park at his Docklands offices. Eddie thanked his driver and went straight up to his office.

He entered his office and threw the case onto his desk. He went to his large safe he’d had built into his drinks cupboard and opened it. He bent over to take something out when his felt someone was watching him. He spun round and saw three men in his office. All wore suits and he recognised coppers when he saw them. His eyes flicked to the desk and he saw the case was no longer there. He experienced a sinking feeling.

“Who the fuck are you?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

“Edward McDonagh, I’m arresting you for false accounting, currency irregularities, tax evasion, blackmail and extortion. And those are just for starters.” The Superintendent then cautioned him.

Eddie nodded. He’d been set up.

“Can I call my wife?”

“No calls.”

“I know my rights,” Eddie blustered.

“Then shut up. You know you get no calls until you get booked in and they are authorised.”

Officers moved in and handcuffed him. Another officer went to the safe and started taking everything out, placing them in plastic bags. Eddie was led out to a waiting police car. He saw Harvey was being placed into another car, as were two other of his ‘associates’ from the bridge.
 

*          *          *
 
Richard was amazed, as it was all there - five hundred thousand pounds! He smiled, the ironic thing being that he wasn’t going to be able to keep any of it.

Len saw the police first.

His brief was to take care of Richard at the first sign of trouble. He drew the gun with obvious precision due to practice. He managed to get two shots into Richard at almost point blank range before the police could react. Richard was flung over the back of his chair with the blast, blood spattering the wall behind.

When the police finally reacted, four bullets from the officers’ MP5s tore through Len and he died before he reached the ground.

Reg stared at his friend and then at the advancing police. He gave himself up without a struggle. Officers surrounded Richard, and a paramedic appeared as Reg was led away. He heard him utter only three words, “Shit, he’s dead!”
 
 
Chapter 14
 
 
Robert Wiseman wasn’t just a solicitor; he was an exceptional solicitor. He had to be, for his clients were usually as guilty as sin and the very best, or worst, that the criminal world could supply. His firm had represented more armed robbers, blackmailers and extortionists than all the other London firms put together.

He found Eddie in reasonable spirits, considering.

Superintendent Harris had given him a single A4 sheet of paper with disclosure set out neatly. He’d found that the arrest had taken place at two in the morning and was concerned that it was now two in the afternoon of the following day.

“Why has it taken so long to call me? This is clearly a breach of my client’s rights!”

“Your client has been further arrested for conspiracy to murder. Twelve other people have been detained and your client was held incommunicado until all arrests had been completed and evidence secured. It’s all documented on the custody record, so cut the crap, Robert.”

Robert nodded. He’d read the custody record and had spoken to several other detained persons. All twelve had asked for him to represent them and he took it upon himself to speak to each in turn before delegating the lesser minions to be represented by his associate solicitors.

He read the disclosure and frowned. It wasn’t what was disclosed, but what wasn’t disclosed that concerned him. Some of the details would indicate that they actually had an awful lot against his client, and that wasn’t good.

He was taken to a small interview room and Eddie was brought to him. Eddie’s  £1000 suit looked a little crumpled and he was unshaven.

“Eddie.”

“Bobby.”

Eddie sat down and Robert passed over a pack of cigars to the disgruntled man. He put them in his pocket.

“Well?”

“I’m told that the irritation has been treated.” Robert said carefully

“Good. Now what have they got on me?”

“It’s not good, Eddie, quite a lot.”

“Can we do a deal?”

“I can ask. What can you offer?”

“Depends on their terms.”

“I think you’ll have to plead to the tax offences and some of the false accounting charges, but maybe they would drop the others if you offer them some good intelligence.”

“How about the conspiracy charge?”

“The evidence depends on the deceased, so he’s not a threat. Reg is fine, he won’t talk and Len is dead.”

“How?”

“Armed police. I’m told they took him out after he’d taken care of matters.”

“Poor fucker, have you sorted out his missus?”

“One million, as agreed.”

“How are my offshore accounts?”

“Very healthy. They can’t touch what they don’t know about.”

“So can we deal?”

“I’ll ask.”
 

*          *          *
 
At much the same time, but sixty miles away, Nessa was shopping at Sainsburys. The novelty of who and what she was had worn off. Life was still far better than at any time in her life, and she just adored being an attractive young woman. Her period seemed to emphasise her gender, and far from making her change her attitude, if anything, it reinforced her desire to remain female.

She was browsing in the aisles, looking for ingredients for her cooking experiments, when a familiar voice caused her to look up.

“Hello Nessa.”

It was Howard Jamieson.

She smiled, and his heart felt the warmth radiated by that simple action.

“Howard, hi. Are you following me?”

He smiled back at her.

“No, just stocking up. Being a single parent is tiresome at times.”

“Come on, they’re at boarding school, you can’t plead that one,” she said.

“Well, with work and everything, I don’t get much time to prepare for the assault on the larder at weekends.”

They pushed their trolleys in the same direction, but Nessa found her concentration gone. She liked the man, but realised that not only was his attraction for her obvious, she sensed he wanted to take it to a stage that she was reluctant to go. Whether this was through fear or a realisation that if she went there, any hope of returning would be unthinkable, or both, she was uncertain.

She was grateful she’d written a list, and managed to acquire everything she’d intended to buy. She was very conscious of the Super Strength Tampax boxes in her trolley. They even stood together in the check-out, despite there being another lane free, Howard was content to be with Nessa.

She was loading up her car when he appeared.

“Are you busy, this evening?” he asked.

“No, why?”

“Would you care to join me for dinner?”

“I love to.” She heard her voice answer.

“Great, I’ll pick you up at seven.”

“Oh, are we going out?”

“Yes, is that all right?”

“Fine. Casual or smart?”

“Smart would be good.”

“Okay. Do you know where I live?”

“Oh yes.”

She smiled, shutting her car boot.

“Seven then,” she said.

“Great. Thanks.”

“What for?” she asked, frowning.

“Being so delightful. Bye.” He walked off before she could reply. She smiled all the way home.

The weather was still damp and grey, so she was pleased that something exciting was happening. Last Christmas had been horrendous, so she watched the festive celebrations and preparations with some disquiet. She put her shopping away, grateful that any cooking was now postponed for a day at least.

She went and had a long soak in the bath and spent ages getting ready. She concentrated on getting her makeup as perfect as she could. Many a day she’d practiced with different colours, shades and styles of makeup. She knew she was being bolder and more adventurous than her mother ever had been, and she adored the whole exciting adventure.

It was ten to seven when she felt satisfied she was ready. She wore a little black silk number that hugged her curves wonderfully. Her matching black underwear, with black slip felt exquisite, and she adored the slithery and sensational feel the clothes gave her. With dark stockings and very sexy high-heeled shoes, she felt she was about as sultry and sophisticated as she could manage.

She took her black overcoat from the cupboard as he pulled his Mercedes onto the drive.

She opened the door as he was getting out.

He stood and stared at her for a moment, conscious only of a rushing in his ears as his heart rate doubled instantly.

“Is something wrong?” she asked, walking towards him, buttoning up her coat, her small black evening bag held under her left elbow.

“Not at all, you look fantastic!” he said, once the power of speech returned.

She came right up to him and kissed him on the cheek.

“Thank you. You look hunky, yourself,” she said, as he raced round the car to open the door for her.

“You needn’t bother, I’m quite capable of opening a car door myself, you know.”

“I know, but I wanted to.”

She kissed his cheek again. “Mmm, that aftershave is gorgeous. Is it Au Savage?”

He blushed and nodded. She got in and he closed her door.

He got in and started the car.

“Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise.”

“Pooh, I hate surprises,” she said.

“Do you, really?”

“Not really, but after Richard dropped the big one on us, I tend to prefer not being surprised.”

“I can understand that. This is a nice one, I promise.”

They chatted about meaningless trivialities for a while, and then Nessa caught the sign.

“Howard, no!” she said.

He grinned and indicated right.

“Yes!” he said.

“You can’t! It has to be the most expensive restaurant in England!”

La Manoir de Quatre Saisons was indeed one of the finest and most exclusive restaurants in the country. Nessa had never been here, but had heard about it.

Howard parked the car, and she managed to open her own door and alight before he could get round to her side.

“How did you manage to book in? I’ve heard they’re often book up for months in advance.”

“It’s a weekday and I phoned on the off chance. There had been a cancellation, so I was lucky. Call it fate!”

“Or fortune,” she said, and felt his arm encircle her waist gently.

They entered together and the luxurious surroundings almost took her breath away. It was situated in an old country house, in a lovely setting and beautifully decorated with period furniture and trappings.

They had their coats taken, and Howard gasped audibly as Nessa took her coat off.

“That’s a beautiful dress!” he said and she smiled self-consciously.

“It’s not a little to short?” she asked, stretching one leg out delightfully.

Howard swallowed and felt his collar was becoming rather tight.

“No, not at all, it’s perfect, as are you,” he said, blushing like a schoolboy.

“Oh, Howard, you are kind,” she said, kissing his cheek for the third time. It was all Howard could do to prevent himself from reaching out and drawing her to him. He wanted her more than he’d ever wanted anyone in his life. He desired her more than he had desired his ex-wife at the height of their passion. Howard Jamieson was hopelessly and completely in love!

Her scent wafted to his nostrils and he drew in as much as he could deep into his soul. She took his arm as they were shown to a small table in the bar. The waiter gave them a pair of elaborate menus and took their drinks order.

The prices were out of this world and she looked at Howard.

“Are you sure about this?” she asked.

“Completely. Please, don’t worry about the cost.”

The menu was in French, but an English translation was available under each item.

“How about the set menu on page sixteen?” he asked.

She looked at it. It was a six-course meal, and looked quite unbelievably wonderful, including lobster and duck.

“It looks lovely,” she said, and before she could object, he’d ordered it for the pair of them.

“Would you prefer red or white wine?” he asked.

“I’ll drink whatever you are,” she said with as smile.

He ordered some wine and she looked about her in awe.

“This is lovely, I’ve heard so much about it, but never been,” she said.

Howard smiled, content to be in the presence of the most beautiful woman in the world.

She chatted about her day, and the frustrations of living alone, and drew him further out of his shell than he’d ever been. They started to compare and share experiences, and Nessa could feel the hurt that he’d been through as well.

They were escorted to their table when their first course was ready, and so began the most wonderful culinary experience Nessa had ever had. She was so excited with every dish, and she clapped her hands with positive glee when the waiters removed the covers of their ducks simultaneously.

She was such a joy to be with, that Howard completely forgot his pain for the first time. It was at that point he decided that he would ask her to marry him.

She sat back after the most mouth-watering and delicate desserts, patted her tummy and said, much to his delight, “Phew, I’m stuffed!”

The headwaiter, conscious of her striking beauty and refreshing attitude, smiled and thought that there was no greater endorsement of their cuisine.

She was presented with a hot towel and a single red rose.

“This is wonderful, I wish I could afford to come here every day,” she said with a grin.

“For you, I’m sure I could try,” said Howard.

“Don’t you dare! Seriously, this has been wonderful and too much would be dangerous,” she said, chuckling.

The headwaiter kissed her hand and then someone helped her on with her coat. Howard felt his breast swell with pride as the headwaiter said, “Monsieur, please, you and your wife must return soon.”

Howard looked at Nessa, who hadn’t heard the comment.

“I really hope we shall,” he said and escorted his lady out to the car.

Nessa was quiet on the journey home. She was full, but also confused. Her body reacted to his man and she was very grateful that her period would prevent her from allowing things to progress, for if it hadn’t been for that she was certain she wanted to go to bed with him.

He pulled into her driveway.

“Would you like to come in?” she asked.

“Nessa, I’d love to come in. But If I do, I wouldn’t be able to trust myself. I have to confess that I am more than attracted to you and would, in all probability, disgrace myself shamefully.”

She smiled. “Howard, fate has decreed that that monthly curse we suffer is occurring right now, so you will have to blame me for not allowing you to disgrace yourself. Come in if you want, we’re both adults.”

She got out of the car and smiled as he too got out, entering the house with her.

She hung up her coat and turned on the gas fire in the living room, as the heating had gone off. It was a mock coal fire and gave a good level of warmth.

“Drink?” she asked.

“Just a coffee would be fine, thanks.”

“Instant okay?”

“Fine.”

He followed her into the kitchen and watched as she filled the kettle, putting the coffee into the mugs. He came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her. She turned and melted against him, looking up at him with those wonderful eyes. Her full red lips were slightly open and she smiled.

He lowered his lips to meet hers and was simply blown away by the passion she exuded. They kissed for an age, Nessa feeling all manner of things happening to her body. Her nipples hardened and she could feel her sex swelling in eager anticipation. Butterflies in her tummy flew in circles as she felt the wonderful excitement for the first time.

This was her first kiss, ever, and she adored it.

Howard let his hands cup her firm buttocks and he loved the feel of her slinky clothing as she responded to his touch. He felt his erection swelling as she pressed tightly against him. He knew she could feel it and he ached to make love to her.

The kettle boiled and she broke off.

She smiled and took a piece of kitchen paper, delicately removing her lipstick from his face.

“You have me all over your face,” she said.

“I want you, Nessa!”

“Mmm, I know. But not tonight.”

She poured the coffees and gave him one of the mugs.

“Sugar?”

“No, thanks.”

She walked into the sitting room and sat down on the large leather sofa. She patted the seat beside her and he sat down.

“Where are we going with this, Howard?” she asked.

He blinked, unable to deal with such a direct question.

“Why?”

“Because things are complicated. I need to know, as it will have a bearing on decisions that have to be made.”

He nodded and looked into those wonderful eyes.

“I think I’ve fallen in love with you and I’d like to get to know you much better. Nessa, I want to make love to you and I feel like a giddy sixteen year old.”

She smiled and stroked his cheek.

“Thanks. Now I know,” she said.

“Nessa, I need to know, is there any hope?”

“There’s always hope. Let’s take things one day at a time, okay?”

He nodded, so she leaned across and kissed him again.
 
 
Chapter 15
 
 
Ian and Sy were surprised when Nessa and Howard turned up to collect them together in Howard’s Mercedes the following Saturday. Both boys were playing for their respective teams, and Howard actually watched his son for the first time this season. Nessa screamed her heart out in support of her son and his team.

They both won their matches and as they changed afterwards, Ian asked Sy what he thought about seeing their parents together.

“Do you think they’ve shacked up together?” Ian asked.

“Oh God, I hope not!” said Sy, thinking on possible consequences.

“Why not, I think they’d be good for each other?” Ian asked, slightly upset by Sy’s reaction.

“I agree, but things are a little complicated at the moment,” Sy said, unable to tell his friend the real reason for his disquiet. If Nessa was now active sexually, then the whole intention to revert would be hopelessly compromised.

He didn’t get an opportunity to speak to her until Howard dropped them off at home.

“Well, what’s going on?” he asked, and became annoyed when she laughed.

“Nothing. Oh, don’t look like that. He took me out for a meal. When he came back here, he professed his love for me and if I hadn’t been on blob, I’d have probably gone to bed with him. But nothing happened, but, shit Sy, I was so close!”

“Where does that leave us?”

“We have an appointment with the Professor next Friday. It seems progress has been made and you never know, he might have good news for you.”

“Me, how about you?”

Nessa sighed. “It’s not so easy. Look, I don’t want to be Simon. I’ve settled into this girly thing and it is so much better than being a boy. If I have to go back, a straight swap, I’ll be as gay and screwed up as they come. Bottom line, I wanted Howard to fuck me, and I was so close to giving him a blowjob, you have no idea. The only thing that stopped me was the thought that if you get to return, I could do something you have to live with. But, next time, I might not be so strong! The problem is that because of my self control, he is twice as determined and it’s hell, Sy, absolute hell!”

By this time, she was crying in utter frustration.

They had a cuddle.

“Are you seeing him again, this week?”

“Thank God, no. He’s off to a computer software convention in Geneva. He even asked me to go with him, but I couldn’t due to the professor’s appointment, but I can tell you I was tempted. If I did, I’d have let him screw me, you realise that?”

Sy nodded. “Yes, I think I do. I’m proud of you, as this must be so hard for you.”

“How’s your week been?” Nessa asked.

“Hell, I have his son lusting after me,” Sy admitted.

“No? He’s gay?”

“I don’t know. He says not, but he keeps saying he sees me as a girl. It’s very odd.”

“Oh God, what a fuck-up!” said Nessa and they both laughed.
 

*          *          *
 
A few miles away, Ian and his father were having a conversation along similar lines.

“What’s with Simon’s Mum, Dad?”

“Ah, well, Nessa and I have become quite good friends, of late,” Howard said.

“How good?”

“We’ve been out to dinner and I’ve fallen in love with her, that’s how good.”

“How does she feel?”

“I think she’s of a similar mind, but with all the problems, she’s a little distracted at the moment.”

“Yeah, Simon said there were some problems. I’m not sure what they are though.”

Howard frowned. “I’m not certain how you two are so friendly. He’s not your age and neither is he in your house. What’s the attraction?”

“We’re doing the play together and we’ve both been hurt by the split-up of our parents,” Ian said, but going red at the same time.

“Ian, what else?”

“Nothing, honest.”

“Ian, I do know when you’re fibbing.”

Ian was bright red by this time.

“Well, it’s daft, Dad, but some of the time, like when we’re reading the lines in the play, it’s like he turns into a girl and I’m sort of attracted by the girl side. I’m not attracted to him at any other time, it’s just he manages to act so convincingly. It fascinates me and confuses the heck out of me at the same time.”

“Have you spoken to him about this?” asked Howard, feeling faintly concerned.

“Yeah and he asked me if I was gay as well. I like him, Dad, as a friend and I won’t do anything silly.”

Howard nodded and let it go, for the time being.
 

*          *          *
 
At six pm on the Saturday the phone rang. The police told Nessa about the incident at Heathrow and that her ex-husband was now dead. She shared the news with Sy and they cried a little for him.

“Well, we can now get on with our lives,” Sy said.

“With no money.”

“I’ll have to leave school. The school fees fund can be diverted into something else, like the mortgage. You’ll have to go back to work.”

“There has to be another way!”

“I don’t see how. Unless he has an insurance policy he never told us about!”

“Shit. I wonder if the professor will be able to help us get back to normal,” said Nessa.

“What’s normal, eh?

Nessa smiled a very sad smile.
 

*          *          *
 
On the Sunday, Howard called and they went out for another pub lunch together.

Howard watched young Simon and had to admit that the boy was very feminine in many of his mannerisms and traits. He was very like his mother and Howard could actually see why Ian was confused. He knew the boy was seeing a specialist and he wondered if the problem was related to gender identity or similar.

He didn’t want to bring up the fact and embarrass either Nessa or Simon. He watched the interaction between Nessa and her son and saw they were really much closer than most mothers and sons that he knew. Closer, indeed, than he was with Ian, and he vowed to do something about that. He’d thoroughly enjoyed watching his son playing rugby and the whole feel of being almost a family had been thoroughly therapeutic.

Nessa gave him confusing signals. She kissed him and was tactile towards him, but he sensed she was also holding back and he was unsure why.

“Nessa, is everything all right?” he asked.

“No Howard, I’m sorry, I suppose I can’t hide much from you. The police called yesterday. My ex-husband, Richard, is dead. It was on the news last week, the shooting in Heathrow of the unnamed man. He was my ex-husband.”

A mixture of relief and concern flooded Howard’s whole being. Relief that it was nothing that he had done and concern over the horrific aftermath that may occur involving the woman he was in love with.

However, Nessa was still slightly withdrawn and distant. Howard was worried, but having experienced much worse moods with his ex-wife, he just accepted it and bided his time.

On the Wednesday, she rang him and asked him over for dinner. He accepted and arrived five minutes early.

The house was warm and welcoming, and she was immaculately turned out is a red dress and matching shoes. She served up a very tasty pasta bake and a home baked apple pie.

She opened a bottle of fine red wine although didn’t drink any herself. During the meal, she was chatty and pleasant, yet all the while Howard sensed something was troubling her deeply. After the meal, he helped her wash up, and they sat on the sofa with their coffees.

“Nessa, have I upset you?”

“No, not at all. I need to try to explain something to you and hope you understand why I’m being a little distant.”

Howard nodded, hoping it wasn’t anything too serious.

“Apart from all the trouble with Richard, Simon is also having personal problems. I’d ask you not to tell anyone, even Ian, but the specialist thinks he has a rare genetic disorder. It’s hard to get a proper answer from them because it is so rare. It may just sort itself out, but there is a chance that the disorder may cause his some gender confusion. I’m not making much sense, but I’m rather worried about him. Apart from the lack of funds brought on by the divorce, which means I may have to take him away from school and send him to a local state school, it may be he’ll have to go to a girl’s school, such is the problem.”

Howard was not as surprised as he should have been, which indicated that Ian and he had discussed Sy’s natural femininity. Nessa was working to a hidden agenda here and she hoped that things would work out in the end.

Howard was relieved that Ian’s problem was suddenly more understandable, and assured Nessa that he’s not mention the conversation to anyone. Nessa relaxed and then Howard pressed home his advantage.

“Nessa, about your financial difficulties,” he said.

Nessa frowned. “What about them?”

“I have a solution.”

“Oh?”

“Marry me.”

Nessa was speechless. She knew he was fond of her and indeed gauged that he was working up to this in time. However, the suddenness of his proposal threw her completely. Particularly as her plan was for him to propose to Vanessa, not to her!

“My gosh, Howard. What can I say? I’m flattered and a little surprised. After all, we hardly know each other at all. With everything that’s going on, can I be cheeky and ask for you to put it on hold just until I am a little more clear about life?”

“Of course,” he said, failing to hide his disappointment.

“Oh Howard, I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be a killjoy, but with the emotional turmoil we’ve both been through, I feel a little caution is healthy. I am so fond of you, but I don’t want to make a mistake. I hope you understand.”

Howard did, and as a result, he loved her all the more. He swore to be patient and kissed her goodbye.

The week passed, and on Thursday evening Nessa appeared at school to take Simon out for the ‘appointment. They drove down to Exeter and Sy was pleasantly surprised at how much better Nessa’s driving had become. No longer attempting to break the land speed record, she was considerate and very safe.

The professor wasn’t in, but a note on his door directed them round the corner to a small unit on an industrial estate.

The door was open and on entering, they found the man fiddling with some contraption attached to a steel tubular frame mounted on rubber tyres laid flat on the concrete floor.

“Ah, glad you could make it. Well, just in time, I’ve finished,” he said. They noticed a woman standing watching the proceedings with a smile on her face. She was shaking her head slowly.

“Ah, this is my niece, Linda. Linda’s a doctor working at a clinic specialising in gender disorders and I thought it prudent to have someone medical standing by, just in case. She’s going to give you both a thorough medical and make records, just in case.”

“Just in case of what?” asked Linda.

“Linda, this needs to be recorded accurately. I believe we are about to witness an historic event, and there needs to be unequivocal evidence and records.”

“You can’t be serious about all this?” Linda asked.

“I am, my dear, as are these good people. Please, the examinations?”

Linda shook her head, but examined both Nessa and Sy. She noted everything of note on medical charts.

“This is mad. These people just can’t be serious!” Linda muttered.

“Yes, they are, dear. So just watch and wait. Hopefully, your services won’t be required.”

They looked at the finished product. It looked like something children build out of those special kits. Two car seats were bolted to the steel frame. The wheels ensured that it was insulated from the ground, and the front section was immersed in a tank of water.

Cables led from a large junction box, which looked similar to that on the pole where the accident happened.

“I’ve even managed to get the concentrate of the airbag release device. Just to ensure that the chemical composition is as close to the original event as possible.”

“That’s it?” Nessa asked.

“What did you expect?”

“I don’t know really.”

“Well, let’s check it for size. Get in, and strap yourselves in.”

Nessa and Sy looked at each other.

“What about you?” Sy asked.

The professor looked at her.

“You didn’t tell him?”

“No, in case it doesn’t work.”

“Tell me what?” asked Sy.

“Nothing, let’s just do it!” said Nessa and strapped herself into the nearer seat. Sy looked at the contraption with some trepidation. However he too strapped himself in.

“Right, that’s fine. Now we need to talk about when we do it,” said the professor.

“Do it now, before I change my mind!” said Nessa.

“But, the last time, you were both rendered unconscious!”

“So, call an ambulance.”

Sy nodded and looked at Nessa. The young woman was crying and he suddenly felt sorry for her.

“No! We can’t!” he said.

“Why not?” said the professor, who was just about to pull the switch.

“Nessa doesn’t want to do it. It won’t work.”

“Yes, I do. Just do it, please!”

The professor pulled the switch.

---

 
To Be Continued...