"What is it?" I asked. "This is even more weird than you having a bigger bust than Mary," she replied," seeing you in that leather jacket and shirt, feeding my granddaughter, obviously a man in many ways, but at the same time a woman in others"   A Mother's Love - Part 9 by Alys

I sat in the hospital café, it was very quiet at such an early hour. Andrea had suggested that I wait here for them while they visited Mary. I slowly turned my spoon in my cappuccino while rocking Bekka back and fore in her car seat, which I had placed on the table. She was calmed by the rocking and the presence of my face near to hers.

"Don't worry Bekka, it's not your fault that Mary feels so down," I said quietly to her while gazing at her perfect baby face," it's such a shame that she won't see us"

The tears that I had managed to suppress, after being informed of my wife's wish not to see me and Bekka, finally came and I felt the streaks of moisture running down my cheeks. I let my sadness express itself fully as I considered the great difficulties that I had in coming to see Mary in the first place. The long car journey with a baby, having to dress as a woman and to behave convincingly as one, having to create a female name and even a new identity as my wife's sister.

It was all in vain. She had rejected me.

Bekka made a little squeaky sound. I looked at her and felt a strong emotion for my completely dependent daughter welling up inside me.

"At least I have you," I said to her, while touching her little hand," you still need me"

I reached into my pocket for a handkerchief to dry my eyes. My right hand encountered something unfamiliar. I had no pocket with a handkerchief in it. I was wearing a dress.

I searched around for something, a paper tissue or napkin, to remove the excess moisture on my face.

"Can I help you?" said a tall, attractive man dressed in medical overalls, sitting opposite me, but a few seats down, at the café table.

"Oh I'm sorry, I don't have a handkerchief, can you see if there are any tissues?" I asked.

"Please, you're welcome to use this,"he said as he took a clean, folded handkerchief out of an inside pocket of his overall and handed it to me.

"Oh thank you so much," I said and proceeded to use the beautiful soft, silken material to dry my eyes and face.

"Oh I am sorry, " I said as I went to hand it back, " I've smeared my make-up all over your beautiful handkerchief"

"Don't worry," my saviour said in an accent that implied a life of privilege," you're welcome to keep it, I have many of them, they were an embarrassing birthday present from my Mother"

A warm smile touched his mouth, briefly.

"Why are they embarrassing?" I asked intrigued.

"They've all been embroidered with my initials, see there in the corner, the three letters," he continued, pointing to some blue stitching.

I looked at the letters.

"'J'..'M'...'B', what does that stand for?" I asked.

My attractive companion hesitated.

"Well you might as well know, I guess we'll never meet again, it's Jonathan Maurice Brown. I tend not to use the name Maurice now, I used to play a lot of rugby and Maurice is maybe not such a good name to have as a rugby player," he explained.

"I can see that," I commented, while mentally labelling Jonathan Maurice Brown as probably an upper class homophobe.

I looked at my watch and realised that Andrea and George would be coming to collect me in a few moments. I picked up Bekka's bag and zipped it up.

"Well Jonathan, I am grateful for the handkerchief and I...." I said.

"Please before you go," he interrupted," can't you tell me your name and why you were so upset?"

"Well firstly my name is Stev......Stephanie, this is Bekka, and why I am upset, it's impossible to explain really" I replied.

"Please, I'm a doctor here," he stated," and even if I cannot suggest something at least I can listen and understand. I'd be honoured to have the new owner of one of dear Mama's handkerchiefs to share a little of their life with me"

I thought about what I could say that would be plausible and brief. Jonathan seemed to be expressing genuine concern and I did wonder whether my initial assessment was completely accurate.

"It's quite simple really," I started and then paused to think of the exact words to use," my sister is dying, and does not have long to live"

"Oh, I am sorry to hear that," Jonathan said, "could I ask what condition is responsible for this?"

"AIDS and cancer, " I said tersely.

"That is a vicious combination," he responded, then hesitated for a few seconds," I'm an oncologist you know, a cancer specialist. What's the prognosis?"

There was something about this stranger's interest that made me want to confide some of the problems I was facing.

"Maybe only a few weeks. Bekka is her daughter, but she is so depressed she doesn't want to see her or me" I said.

"Why is that?" he asked, looking puzzled.

With perfect timing my precious child choose that moment to wake up with a whimper and a little cry.

"I'll show you," I said, and without hesitation I took Bekka out of her travel chair, exposed my left breast and let her have some breakfast.

As I had expected, Jonathan was completely unperturbed by me feeding my baby in such an open place, I figured that a hospital would be the last place to be bothered.

"You're feeding your sister's baby?" he asked, looking very surprised.

I explained about the cow's milk intolerance, he of course knew about HIV transmission rates. I also explained about her refusal to try different drug combinations to fight the AIDS.

"Yes, I understand, if her doctors could boost her immune system then she could fight the cancer better, or at the very least not have to be in an isolation room. She could even transfer to a Hospice" he said while appearing to be thinking about something.

"Yes, if only someone could persuade her," I responded.

Jonathan nodded in reply.

I assumed that my meeting with the gallant doctor was nearly at an end and since Bekka had dropped back to sleep I put her back in her chair. I then attached the chair to the buggy and stowed her bag.

"Thanks for listening Jonathan, it was nice meeting you, thanks for the handkerchief, bye," I said before turning to push the buggy away.

"I might be able to," Jonathan said.

I turned back towards him.

"You might be able to do what?" I asked.

"I might be able to persuade your sister to change her mind," he explained.

"How can you do that, you're not her doctor," I responded.

"I have some family experience of these diseases," he said.

Jonathan then went on to explain how his elder brother, Paul, had died of AIDS in the late eighties, having been infected by the untreated factor eight clotting agents for haemophiliacs. His uncle Jeremy had died from AIDS and cancer in the early nineties.

"How did your uncle get infected," I asked.

"He was gay and it seems that there was a bath house culture at the time, with unsafe sexual practices, that resulted in high transmission rates," he replied.

My assessment of Jonathan was suddenly turned on its head.

"Listen I have to go now, " he said after glancing at his watch," give me your sister's details and I'll try and come in a little early before my shift tonight to have a word with her"

"Oh thanks so much for thinking about this," I said before giving him Mary's full name and ward number.

"What about some way of contacting you to tell you how I get on?" he asked, smiling.

"Sure," I replied as I gave him my mobile number.

I was somehow glad to get out of my female attire, after we had arrived home about an hour later. I had been dressing and acting as a woman for over a day now and it felt very strange. I almost felt as if I was losing my real identity as I played the role of Stephanie with increasing conviction. I had told Andrea and George about Jonathan. They had not held out much hope of his success.

As I had described my conversation in the café, I had conjured up an image of his strong, tall manliness and for some reason I had smiled at the thought of him.

I changed into black jeans, a loose shirt and leather jacket to cover up my maternity bra. I removed all traces of make up and put on my men's size six shoes.

"George," I said as I walked into the lounge where the two of them were reading the Sunday papers.

"Steve, you're back again, that's a relief," he responded.

"Fancy a pint down the Black Bell?" I asked.

"Of course, that sounds just the thing, I've got a bit of a thirst, I missed good old British beer when I was over in Berlin"

We walked over to the pub, it was a warm late Spring day and soon I was sweating a bit under my leather jacket, but there was no way I could take it off.

We stayed in the Black Bell for a good hour and watched some of the lunchtime Premiership football game. Too soon it was time to get back in case Bekka had woken up.

Andrea was rocking Bekka to comfort her and was trying to interest her in having a suck of the dummy while she waited for her liquid 'lunch'. But my daughter was obviously going to be a strong willed woman as she kept spitting the dummy out as soon as it was put in. She knew what she wanted and she wanted it now!

I sat down and rewarded her for her persistence. Andrea stood there and looked at me oddly.

"What is it?" I asked.

"This is even more weird than you having a bigger bust than Mary," she replied," seeing you in that leather jacket and shirt, feeding my granddaughter, obviously a man in many ways, but at the same time a woman in others"

"It's only until she can be weaned, Andrea," I said, "I'll go back to being her dad then"

"Yes of course, I know that, but it is just strange for me to see you, but I am grateful to you for your sacrifice"

"There was no other choice," I commented.

Andrea left me to feed Bekka while she prepared the Sunday dinner. She was a traditionalist and we were soon tucking into roast beef, Yorkshire pudding, roast potatoes, carrots and peas, with lashings of mouth watering gravy. The two of them had a glass of wine each, I stuck to water for obvious reasons.

I lay back on the sofa, after the large meal, and was soon dozing.

I woke with a start, the room was getting dark. There was a loud ringing coming from my jacket pocket and there was a vibration that was jiggling my right breast a little painfully.

I took out my mobile and answered it.

"Hello," I said.

"Is that you Stephanie?" inquired a familiar voice.

"Who is this," I asked, a little confused by the question.

"It's Jonathan, remember, we met this morning in the main hospital café"

"Oh, yes, I'm sorry," I said regaining my full mental alertness and also modifying my voice.

"How are you?" I asked.

"I'm fine," he replied," listen I haven't got long before I start my shift."

"OK, so did you manage to speak to Mary?" I asked.

"Yes, I spoke with your sister just now. I think that I managed to allay many of her fears," he replied.

"Oh, thank you for that, you are very kind," I responded.

"I was only trying to help, but listen, there is more good news"

"What?"

"She said that she doesn't want to wallow in self pity anymore and will have a go at trying to find an effective drug treatment"

"Thank you, that is great news"

"Also, she said that she is looking forward to seeing you, and her daughter, tonight if you can come to visit!" Jonathan concluded with a note of triumph in his voice.

"Oh thank you, thank you so much Jonathan," I responded loudly and happily. Andrea heard my exuberance and came into the lounge to see what the reason for the commotion was. I have her a thumbs up sign.

"I don't know how I can ever repay you for your kindness, Jonathan," I said with tears of joy in my eyes.

"Well there is one thing you could do," he replied.

"What is that?" I asked.

"You could let me take you out to dinner"