This Chapter investigates Martina's transvestism and transsexuality and the issues she has with it. It describes Sally's reconciliation through the loving of both families and it describes the decisions to start motherhood by Martina's friends.

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Martina’s Story 11

Myself, Martina, A sexually dysphoric transsexual who has not yet determined what
Sex she is but prefers to present as a girl

Beverly My adoptive ‘aunt’ who is a mature she-male and my most supportive adult friend.

Chenille My older half sister.

Jennifer Aunt Beverly’s adopted daughter.

Beatrice Aunt Beverly’s second adopted daughter and Jennifer’s younger sister. One of my two best friends.

Sian. My lesbian mother who is married to —

Margaret Who is Chenille’s lesbian mother.

Sissy. My and Chenille’s transvestite she-male father.

Sandie. My doctor, psychiatrist and sexual counsellor.

Judge Elizabeth Porter. The judge who ruled that I should be allowed to live and dress as a girl.

Angela Hunt. Jennifer and Beatrice’s natural blood mother who is now married to Aunt Beverly who is a she male.

Baroness Wemite’ Sian’s old School Chum

Peter Baroness Wemite’s son

Melanie Baroness Wemite’s daughter and my other ‘best friend’.

Rosemary & Monika. Two bullies in the junior school.

Chrissie My older step transsexual sister.

Jeanette My transvestite friend at University.

Sally Transgendered Warden of Girls Hall of Residence.

Charlie Jeanette’s sympathetic big brother

Esther Jeanette and Charlie’s mum.

Miranda Charlie’s wife.

The Benoon women looked up as one when we entered the kitchen. Four sisters but seven years apart, plus their mother plus their sister — in — law Miranda had developed a sort of oestrogenic sibling telepathy. Sally just sat there wondering. The day had already been a particularly auspicious one for her.
The children were upstairs getting ready for bed so we adults had the kitchen to ourselves except for Charlie’s newest niece Janet nestling in his huge arms.

“What is it darling?” Esther looked up expectantly at her first born.

“Jeanette’s got some news for you mum.”

I saw the flicker of uncertainty briefly flash across Esther’s face but it held no censure or rejection. Esther truly did love and value her transvestite son. She smiled at Jeanette and re-arranged herself in the large kitchen chair expectantly.

“Go on then darling, don’t keep me in suspense.”

Jeanette started hesitantly; looking for words and gathering her thoughts, not to mention her emotions which were all over the place.

“It’s about what you said earlier, having a grandson, another grandson to keep Zach company. We’ll there might be a chance; I might be able to give you a grandchild. I can’t promise a grandson but you should have a grandchild.”
Esther fell to tears as she digested the most wonderful birthday present a child of hers could have offered; news of another grandchild! Jeanette’s sisters just stared uncomprehendingly and overwhelmed with emotion. Sally was completely bamboozled. Eventually, it was Sally’s ‘not of the family’ status that enabled her to ask the first coherent question.

“Jeanette, might I ask who your wife will be, or in these more liberal times, who the mother will be.”

“Uuhhm that’ll be me.” Beatrice volunteered; “but with the agreement and consent of my companions.”

All eyes turned to land on Beatrice who grinned and then went on to explain to the sisters and Sally while Jeanette was savouring a breath crushing embrace of ecstasy from her mother Esther. Charlie was already opening a huge jeroboam of champagne.

“So you see; it’s pretty much a win — win situation all around.” Bea declared.

“Will you be able to keep up your studies?”

“I think so. There are us four students and my four mothers plus my older sisters. Chenille and Jennifer. Jennifer’s nearly completed her M.B. and she’s starting her internship the same year we become second-year’s. Chenille’s completed her engineering degree and she’s training to become a pilot. They’re both based in London so methinks Mummy Bev might already have tenants for her apartments in the same building so we’ll be together again just like we were at Rosy Cottage.

Believe me ladies, If you think yours is a good family support system then our childhood arrangements at Rosy Cottage more than matches it. We’ve still got younger siblings following along as our various mummies and mummy dads have savoured their various parental options.

And now I look at the Benoon family and your extended family circumstances, I get the feeling that any child of Jeanette’s will never lack for love or carers. It’s my conviction that you’ll all be gaga to have another little Benoon adding to your family get-togethers.

Jeanette’s four sister’s eyes misted up with joy as did Miranda’s and Esther’s. Reluctantly, Esther released her transvestite son to allow the sisters to hug their brother While Miranda and Charlie sat slumped with delight as Miranda cuddled her niece Janet. Mel and I sat by Charlie watching the youngsters playing rounders.
Just by casting her eyes around the extended family group, Beatrice could see that her first-born child would never want for love and care.

Then she caught the tearful gaze of Sally and recognised the pain behind Sally’s struggle not to cry. Beatrice got up and crossed to Sally. She bent down to Sally’s level to put one arm around her shoulder as her other arm encompassed the whole group.

“Don’t worry Sal. You’re with us now, and we’re with them. This is your family now, the Benoons and the Rosy Cottage gang. Just you wait until you come home to Dorset with us for half term or even Christmas. We’ll show you what real families should be like.”

Sally reached up eagerly into Beatrice’s embrace and rested her head on Bea’s shoulder. A few tears flowed but Sally eventually found her voice.

“Thanks, - thanks, I just don’t know what to say.”

“Don’t say anything just think of all the nice things that can come from this, your new life.”

Miranda spotted the intimacy whilst Jeanette’s sisters were too engrossed in the news about their little brother and the impending hope of fatherhood. Leaving the Benoon sisters to congratulate Jeanette, Miranda slipped over to join Sally and Bea.

“Is everything okay Sally. Have you been crying again?”

Sally nodded.

“I don’t know whether to be happy or sad. Seeing what I’ve missed all my life or realising that I‘m now going to have it. I’ve got a family at last.”

Miranda looked down thoughtfully then presented Baby Janet for Sally to hold. Sally hesitated nervously.

“Go on hold her,” Miranda encouraged Sally. “She won’t break. See what it’s like to really have a family; to hold the
youngest member in your arms, to feel the future in your hands.

Sally smiled wistfully and cautiously extended her hands. Miranda placed baby Janet on Sally’s uninjured thigh and Sally felt herself filling up.

‘A baby!’ She sighed with inward contentment; ‘a real live baby!’

She adjusted her injured thigh to make a more comfortable ‘lap’ Beatrice knelt down to have her head down at Sally’s knees and they both played blissfully with the giggling, gurgling baby.

“Just think Sally,” Beatrice observed, “you’ll have one to play with all the time when Jeanette and I make one like this.”

Her remark was overheard by the whole Benoon clan who turned as one and sighed with contentment. Beatrice sensed the attention and blushed bright red. Then she remarked defensively.

“Well; she will, and who’s to stop her?”

Esther stood up and joined Sally and Beatrice. Her age made her creak a little as she finally lowered herself to Sally’s level.

“Nobody’s going to stop you Sally, nobody wants to stop you. You can play with all my future grandchild any time you want. That much you deserve, that much we can all give you.”

“Amen to that,” Beatrice agreed.

Sally teared up again and sat silently crying with joy as Beatrice took some tissues and wiped her eyes softly. Esther gently took Janet from Sally’s lap with a promise to return her later in the evening after having been fed and changed. Beatrice grinned at Sally and explained compassionately.

“Sometimes only a mum can give her baby what she wants.”

“I’m just so happy!” Sally sobbed, “I mean, - it’s all that a woman could wish for. At last I’m joining the sisterhood.”

Having said this, Sally hesitated nervously; - anticipating some sort of facetious remark concerning her transgenderism but it never came. Obviously the Benoon family, - like Beatrice’s family, - had come to accept Sally’s circumstances owing to the circumstances surrounding their own transvestite brother Jeanette. Any transgender issues that Sally might have anticipated had long ago been resolved within the Benoon clan.

Sally watched a little enviously as Esther changed Janet’s nappy then handed the clean baby to her mother to be fed. Without the slightest signs of self-consciousness, Esther’s youngest daughter produced her ripe globe of feminine breast and promptly fed her daughter Janet as mothers had done since mammals had appeared on earth.

‘Another sign of my having been accepted,’ thought Sally, ‘here amongst other girls and family, there had been no attempt by Janet’s mother to somehow hide the breast feeding process. It had been done in the most open and natural way possible.’ Sally found herself smiling as she turned to Bea.

“I’m just so happy. Thank you for coming into my life.”

“It’s Jeanette you should be thanking,” Beatrice grinned, “she’s the trigger, the catalyst that changed the Benoon family.”

“It’s true,” Miranda repeated as she overheard Bea’s remark. “When their father was here the Benoons were known only for censure and bigotry. Even the Rabbi in our synagogue used to shake his head when old man Benoon got up on one of his old-testament, orthodox rants. Thank Jeanette for her tenacity and Charlie for finally doing the decent thing.”

“You mean kicking his father out?” Sally replied.

“I mean exactly that!”

Miranda went on to describe her take on the Benoon family.

“It was Charlie’s courage in getting rid of the old boor that finally attracted me to him. Throughout our growing up together in the Synagogue, I always knew Charlie to be a gentle giant. The trouble was he was too gentle and for that I held him in some contempt.
He seemed to have no limit on his ability to always see the other person’s point of view, always sacrifice his own happiness to accommodate the other’s view. This even extended to tolerating his father’s brutality and bigotry.
Then, one day he saw the light or something and finally snapped. Well he didn’t actually snap, for if ever Charlie snapped I think people would die. No he used reasonable force and finally removed the cancer from the heart of the Benoon family. That was the day I knew Charlie was the man for me. At first I didn’t know the reason for the kicking that Jeanette was getting when Charlie intervened and then, when I learned of Jeanette’s transvestism I must confess I was disgusted at first, but Charlie made me feel ashamed. You’ve seen how the two brothers inter-react. Jeanette worships Charlie, Charlie loves his little bro’. Ask their sisters. Like me, the Benoon sisters were not entirely comfortable with Jeanette’s transvestism at first, but Charlie pulled them around. That day when Charlie beat his father up for nearly kicking the little six-year-old Jack to death was the day of epiphany for the whole Benoon clan.

Charlie’s a real man and yet he loves his younger brother to bits. Nobody will be happier than Charlie that our son Zach will finally have a male cousin to bond with, so Beatrice, please make sure you have a son.”

“That’s asking a bit much isn’t it?” I added as I overheard the last request.

“We can but try, Jeanette and I,” Beatrice sighed poetically.

Sally, Miranda and I smiled at Beatrice’s gentle poetry.

With that Esther returned to place Janet back in Sally’s arms where she stayed contentedly for the remainder of the evening.
Sally was overcome with contentment and bliss and returned with us to the halls of residence a totally new woman.
The next day, Saturday, - Mummy Bev and Mummy Angie came up to town to sort out their new apartments. Beatrice and I joined them as we sorted out our inheritance money while Mel went to see her dad Baron Wemite, brother Peter and future sister-in-law Lucinda across town. Mel was doing exactly the same thing with her dad. Baron Wemite was pleased that his daughter Mel was getting married, even if it was to me a transgendered individual of uncertain sexuality. My promise to give Baron Wemite a legitimate grandchild by his only daughter was sufficient to fulfil the Ancient Sallic laws of Mel’s inheritance to her ancient title and her modest distaff estates. By the Christmas holidays we were ready to move into a spacious four-bed-roomed apartment that had been modified during restoration to suite our collective needs. In truth, because we invariably slept together, it meant that we always had at least one and more usually two or even three bedrooms spare for visiting guests.

That Christmas Beatrice and I took Sally and Jeanette down to Rosy cottage to meet the rest of our tribe. Naturally, Mel was over nearly every day from the Wemite place not to mention Lucinda and Peter.

For Sally the sheer variety of transgendered situations and relationships left her breathless with delight. At last she could move with total freedom from any sort of censure or strictures afforded to her condition. She had a splendid opportunity to meet with Sandie who, after consulting with Sally’s G.P., in London was happy to advance the recommendation for SRS. The main criterion of having lived in the chosen gender role for more than two years had more than been surpassed. Sally had been living as a woman warden for the hall of residence for nearly twenty years and had never been ‘read’. She decided to have the surgery in the following summer to address her job needs. We would be living full time as second year students in our apartment and Sally would always have a ‘bolt-hole’ if she ever needed one. At fifty eight, she was near the women’s retirement age and was hoping to retire in another 2 years. She would need to find accommodation for the warden’s flat went with the job.

She did however, have the option of working until she was sixty five and Mummy Bev had made a clever ‘rent-to-buy’ deal where she could buy a flat whilst renting it, then subletting it while she worked on to sixty five to sort out her finances whilst living on in the warden’s flat for an extra three or four years. With her modest college pension, Sally would be fairly well fixed by the time she reached sixty-five, and she was thinking of taking the option.

She was chatting about this to Mummy Beverly and Mummy Margaret during the Christmas break at Rosy cottage and once again the advantages of ‘family’ were made apparent to her. Her London flat would be in the same block as Beverly’s and ours and companionship would always be to hand. No more lonely days of isolated retirement for Sally. There would be babies to cuddle and take for walks not to mention the integration into two extended families. Sally’s happiness was complete. Our children would have one more extra, doting gran.

That Christmas, Beatrice fell pregnant to Jeanette. Naturally the news spread like wildfire through both families and it was a time of great rejoicing. Poor old Beatrice found herself hauled around both families as she was forced to fulfil familial obligations. Expectations were high but it would be a few months before scans could reveal if the foetus was male or female. Beatrice began to feel as though she did not matter; it seemed to Bea that the Benoon family only saw her as nothing more than some sort of brood mare, the new life was all about the baby and its gender. Eventually she had to make her feelings abundantly clear. The sex of the baby did not matter!

To the Benoons this came as a bit of a shock. As a Jewish family it was important to produce sons indeed some Jewish boys started every day with a prayer thanking God that they had not been born a woman. When Beatrice learned of this she was not too amused. Coming from a family where gender was a very blurred and low priority, she had to have a quiet chat with Esther, the matriarch of the Benoon clan.

“You see Esther, I am quite shocked to find that all the daughters in the family wish they’d had a son. Bearing in mind I only intend to have two children, what will you do if this baby is a girl? My next plan is to have a child by Martina so this baby will be Jeanette’s only child; at least by me that is. If it’s a baby girl will you drop me because I have somehow failed to produce the goods?”

“No. Never. It’s just that well, you understand, we are Jews, it’s important to have a son, he might be the next messiah.”

“Oh please. Every one of the monotheist faiths has some sort of promise or prophecy about a second coming. The Muslims believe that the next prophet will be born of man and yet they make the arrogant assumption that the next prophet will be male. The Koran says nothing about the gender of the next prophet. It’s a fifty-fifty chance the next prophet could be female. What does the Jewish religion say about the sex of their next Messiah?”
Esther fell silent. She looked at Beatrice slightly nervously.

“It just says Messiah. I think!”

“So. Go on. And while we’re at it, how do you know God is male. Who endowed the almighty with all the frailties and conceits of gender? You say God is a spirit. Spirits don’t have a gender. They don’t need to reproduce it they’re eternal do they? So go on, who made God a male? It’s all a load of Man stuff. When I see a female Pope or a female Ayatollah I’ll maybe start to accept religion. Til then, I’m just a disinterested bystander but when it comes to my first baby, he or she or whatever had better be treated the same no matter what.”

“Point taken Bea,” Esther conceded. “But I’m a bit hurt that you should think so ill of me. I thought that after you’d seen the way we cherish Jeanette you’d have had me down for a compassionate humanist not a bigoted religious nut.”

“Sorry Esther, maybe you’re right, it’s just I’ve seen the walk that people like Martie, Sally and others like them have had to make and I get a bit disillusioned with monotheist paternalism.”

“Well I’ll treat my grandchild with all the love he or she, or she or he deserves. Truth to tell, for me anyway, it was more the case that we’ve got enough girls in the Benoon tribe. Another boy, just the one even, would be a nice addition, a bit of balance perhaps.
If it’s Jeanette’s son, then so much the better for he carries the family name forward. Poor Zach carries the burden alone at the moment.”

“Well if that’s your main reason, family balance I’ll run happily with that. Just don’t let it become the patriarchal thing.”
Esther smiled condescendingly.

“Bea. Look around you, d’you see a patriarch in the Benoon family. There’s only a matriarch, - me.”
Bea hesitated then smiled a bit self consciously. ‘Maybe she had been a bit hasty in judging Esther’ she seemed to be on edge and jumpy since becoming pregnant.’

“Sorry Esther. I’m twitchy about my baby, must be the hormones.”

Esther smiled and gave Beatrice a hug.

“It’s your first baby; you’re bound to be on edge. I’ve watched all my daughters go through it. Just try to enjoy the experience. It won’t get too uncomfortable until your 6th or 7th month and by then your exams will be over. You’ll have from June to September to take it easy in your third trimester. Go away and enjoy it; but come and see us every time Jeanette comes over. There’s no excuse now Bea, you’re only ten minutes away by tube.”
Thus reassured, Beatrice returned to our halls of residence and we three went to visit Sally. She had supper prepared and we chatted in her warden’s flat until we heard the familiar purposeful click of Jeanette’s size nine heels as she returned from a Chemistry lecture and practical. Her overall stank of sulphuric acid and there was a small acid burn on her jeans. Fortunately she had been wearing loose ones so no harm had ensued. She knocked on the door and called to us.

“I’ll be back in a minute, got to change, I stink of chemicals.”

The pungent smell wafted in with the draught and we unanimously agreed.

As we waited, we mused on how Jack had come to terms with his transvestism. Now he lived almost full time cross dressed as Jeanette and hardly an eyelid was batted throughout the campus.

Twenty minutes later Jeanette returned and we devoured Sally’s delicious risotto. Naturally the conversation centred on the baby. Finally we decide upon a name for a boy and a name for a girl then Mel dashed out to the off-licence to buy a bottle of champagne.

A series of phone calls immediately followed and a Baby shower was organised at Jeanette’s mother’s house. Bea half expected a grilling from Esther that Jeanette had not chosen a Jewish name if they had a boy but Esther grinned when they cautiously inquired about it.

“Beatrice, I have a son who is known more commonly by the name of Jeanette, would I worry about my grandson’s name?”
Beatrice grinned partly from relief and partly from amusement. ‘Esther was a typical Jewish mother.’
Jeanette took the phone from her to chat to her mum. Suddenly Jeanette’s face clouded slightly as she turned to Beatrice.

“She’s asking about circumcision.”

Bea paused thoughtfully then nodded.

“They say it’s more hygienic and there’s less chance of cancer for the woman isn’t there?”

“That’s only a theory, I think,” Jeanette replied.

“Well let’s go with it. It’s a minor issue and if it pleases your mum then let it be. Do you resent being circumcised?”

“I don’t know, I’ve never known what it’s like to have a foreskin, I’ve never had one or at least I’ve never remembered having one.”

“But does it bother you, not having one I mean?”

Jeanette shrugged and smiled.

“I’ve never thought about it. No, it doesn’t bother me. If you’re happy to let him be circumcised then do it. It’ll certainly please mother.”

Thus Beatrice was able to pass some good news for Esther’s ears; if the baby was a boy, they would allow him to be circumcised.
As a transsexual I kept my counsel. My surgeon had once told me that a foreskin served to make a very useful clitoral hood and could even be used to help build the vaginal scabbard if other material was in short supply; ‘Hey!’ I told myself, ‘how many transsexuals were there compared with other kids?’ I might mention it to Beatrice at a later date. That night as all four of us cuddled up together it was a particularly emotional night.

Finally a few weeks later Beatrice came home after a scan with news of the baby but she seemed inordinately shy.

“Is it a boy or a girl?” Jeanette and Mel pressed.

“They can’t tell yet. The baby’s shy and won’t show the genitals. Don’t you want to know Martie? “

“I prefer to wait until the child says what sex it is.” I croaked as my emotions took charge

“Oh shit!! Yes; - Dammit!! Sorry Martie, I forgot. That was crass and insensitive of me. Sorry love.”

I turned away tearfully but Beatrice was quick to spot my hurt. She hurried to hug me and reassure me

“I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry. Me of all people! — I should have stopped to think. It still worries you doesn’t it?”

“It’s the not knowing Bea, what am I, and who am I! Some days I’m all woman then others, I have doubts; I — just — don’t — know!”

She wrapped her arms around me as Mel and then Jeanette approached nervously. Mel was fully appreciative of my situation and joined Bea in hugging me to reassure me but Jeanette was still new and raw to my issues. Despite her uncertainty, Jeanette had the grace and courage to wrap her long arms around us three and add her reassurance. Eventually I stopped crying and they let me slink away to the bedroom. Jeanette came and sat with me stroking my back gently as I tried to explain. Beatrice and Mel had heard it many times before but Jeanette still needed to know and to try to understand. As I lay morosely on the bed I tried to explain what it was like.

“Jeanette, try and understand. It’s like there’s two people inside me; girl and boy. They seem to lie together like the Yin and Yan, the oriental symbol of life. You know; that symbol on the Korean flag. They lie intimately entwined and yet quite distinct. They do not try to pull apart because they are both me, the whole me. They are not fighting each other. Yet they spin my life around always changing one to the other and back. Look how the Yin, Yan symbol always seems to be spinning, like a galaxy in space. That’s me, that’s my life, always spinning, always topsy — turvy. They don’t threaten me, after all they’re the symbol of life; the life without and the life within but boy — oh — boy are they different! The life within is well marked but very complicated and intimately connected. That’s me, that’s the boy and girl within me. I don’t think I’ll ever know what I am! And the life without, well, that’s a huge variable, a deception, always hiding the truth, always changing. It’s a shit life; do I transition or not? What will the doctors say? What will the psychiatrists say if I’m not certain? Will they let me? Will they claim I’m suffering from some sort of bisexual schizophrenia and say that has to be resolved before they can decide if I'm ready to cross over?”

“I don’t know Martie, I just don’t know.” Jeanette whispered. “Are there any sort of basics, you know; absolutes, absolute values where you can say with certainty, ‘I am this and I want that’.”

“Yes.” Martie replied. “I want children but I’ll have to father them. I haven’t got a womb. That bit’s already sorted. I’m going to give Mel children and marry her but that’s a special deal to do with her inheritance.”

“Well, you seem to be starting with one certainty then. Maybe you can use that as a sort of building block and take small slow, careful steps.”

I turned to look up at Jeanette and smiled softly.

“You’re good with advice, d’you know that?”

“I try, but my brother Charlie is better. I’ve no idea what a slow, carful step might be.”

“Well Charlie’s not here, but what you’ve said shows you’re really trying to help. Thanks, you’re sweet.”

I raised my head and pursed my lips hopefully. Jeanette smiled and leant forward to plant a soft firm kiss exactly where I wanted one. My heart fluttered with desire as my womanly side took control. Unable to control my needs, I rolled on my back, spread my legs and hugged Jeanette to me. It seemed just so right to lie in the protective arms as one as caring as Jeanette. At that moment I so wished I had a woman’s body. To lie and open my body like a flower meeting the morning sun and surrender to Jeanette’s attentions. To invite something so precious into my body and share it’s bounty to fulfilment.
Sadly, that would never be. Fate had cursed me with a male body, never to carry, never to nurture, never to produce a new life. To me, at that moment, lying safe in Jeanette’s arms, it seemed that women had it all when it came to life’s fulfilments.
My most secret feelings must have somehow translated themselves to Jeanette. It was either that or Jeanette was particularly sensitive to the needs of others for she covered me and took me in her arms as though I was a limp rag doll. I was too wasted with despair as I desperately prayed for a miracle but it never came. No sudden excavation of my groin to change me into what I wanted to be. No violent cramps or convulsions that might have indicated a miraculous alteration of my plumbing. I debated inviting Jeanette to take me the other way, the lesser way, but I could not. It had to be the right way or not at all. Taking Jeanette by the lesser way would somehow demean her and me by turning whatever we had into a travesty. I would have to wait, wait until I had fulfilled my promise to Melanie. Nevertheless we lay embraced and warm for long minutes before Bea knocked gently on my door.

“Are you alright Martie?”

“Yes,” I replied hoarsely as I reluctantly persuaded Jeanette to release me.

We slowly parted as I called Bea and Mel into my room.

After a session like the last one I was becoming concerned about my male sexuality. If I was going to marry Mel and put her with child then we would have to advance things. I wasn’t sure I could hold out as a functioning male for much longer as the attractions of womanhood beckoned.

Jeanette smiled and rolled aside as Mel and Bea studied our situation. Mel frowned uncertainly.

“Were you two, - you know?”

“No,” I replied a little peevishly, “we can’t, I haven’t got the equipment.”

Mel stared at me then sat beside me on the bed as she questioned me.

“Have you decided then, - you know, - to finally transition.”

“I dunno’, but I think we’d better get the other stuff out of the way.”

Mel nodded knowingly and Bea looked sagaciously at me.

“Will we have to be quick, Martie?” She asked. “Can you hold out, you know, with the male stuff until Mel graduates?”

“I’ll try,” I said as I turned to Mel, “but you’d better warn your mum and dad that things could happen unexpectedly. After Jeanette’s kisses just now, I think I’m turning, turning once and for all.”

“Well I’m happy for you if at long last you’ve found certainty,” Bea smiled, “but you’ve still got your obligations to Mel. You can’t let her down now.”

“I won’t. I’ve come this far despite the trials and tribulations. You’ll get your inheritance Mel.” I said with far more certainty than I felt.

Mel seemed to sense my indecision and looked me full in the eyes.

“We’re getting married this summer. You don’t look at all confident, Martie.”

I felt a wave of relief wash over me. The decision had been taken out of my hands!