I must admit, this story almost wasn’t published due to some silly misgivings — perhaps even nervousness. Now, it is published and this is the prologue of a transgender story I just didn't want to let go. Thanks to those who gave support and insisted I publish this book. It is done and I await the fates.
Prologue
Hamilton Jones looked at the old man distastefully and then discreetly held his spotted handkerchief to his nose. The thick smoke from the long pipe the old man insisted on smoking was making the journalists eyes water and his weak sinuses ache.
As soon as he had walked in the room, the old man had lit the pipe, endured a long coughing fit and then stubbornly sucked on the pipe again.
I have to get this over with as soon as I can, Hamilton thought, I can’t bear this smoke!
The last place Hamilton wanted to be that day, was in this hospital to interview a relic from the last century!
His editor, Thomas Greeley, had been adamant and Hamilton had endured the long trip to the next state in search of a story of the previous century.
‘It’ll be a good yarn, Jones,’ the editor had boomed. ‘A lot of folk are interested in tales of the old west. It wasn’t that long ago that outlaws ran wild over this territory and if this fellah is really Baldwin, he’ll be able to spin some real yarns!’
‘But we live in a modern world, Mister Greeley,’ Jones protested, ‘we should look to the future. I could write a piece on the mechanical benefits of our modern world. We have electricity now, a new modern world is…’
‘I know all that and with change happening so darn fast, Jones, folk like to remember gentler times.’
Hamilton Jones snorted at that. ‘Hardly gentler, Mister Greeley, if this man is Bullets Baldwin, he was nothing but a common criminal…’
‘A bank robber, Jones, he ran with the legendary Avenging Annie and she was our version of Robin Hood! Why, people still talk about what she did! Folk round these parts remember the tales of her and the gang. Bullets Baldwin was part of that gang and part of history.’
Greeley stared out the window and poked his thumbs into his belt.
‘Times have changed so darn fast,’ he muttered. ‘Lord, we’re in a new century! The old west is gone and soon will be nothing more than a memory. You young folk will know nothing of those great characters.’
Hamilton sat patiently while the editor stared into the past.
‘The Younger boys, James gang, Butch and the Hole in the Wall gang and, of course Avenging Annie! All gone, all vanished and there won’t be anybody left to remember them.’
The young reporter had to appear respectful as Greeley had reported the famous gunfights and range wars of the last century. It was said he was shot once or twice himself! And then, of course, was that old story about how Greeley had once met Avenging Annie.
‘Bullets Baldwin,’ Greeley said softly, ‘the last member of Avenging Annie’s gang. Folk around here will eat up stories about that gang. Did I tell you, Jones, that I travelled with her once?’
‘Yes, sir,’ Jones sighed, ‘you did.’
Please, not that story again!
Hamilton was convinced the editor was a little loose with the truth on that story!
‘What a journey that was,’ Thomas Greeley said softly, ‘I’ll never forget how brave she was and how…well, that’s another time.’
Greeley turned and pointed a finger at Jones.
‘You get on down there across the border, get into that old folks home and talk to him; make sure he really is Bullets Baldwin!’
Jones nervously played with his hat.
‘How will I know, sir, that he is whom he claims to be?’
‘You’re from back east, a smart young fellah,’ Greeley said with a broad grin, ‘or so you keep telling me; you’ll figure something out.’
Greeley had turned back to the window with his memories and Jones had reluctantly begun his journey across the state and into the next.
Now, Jones sat in a rickety chair watching an old man puff on his pipe.
‘Mister Baldwin,’ Hamilton asked with a tinge of nervousness, ‘you claim to be Horace Baldwin, better known as Bullets Baldwin who was a bank robber in the no-mans land in 18…’
‘No claims about it, young fellah,’ Baldwin said, rocking gently. ‘It’s a fact.’
‘But, how…’
Baldwin turned to look at Jones, his eyes remarkably alive in that grey bearded face.
‘Do you think I don’t know my own name?’
Jones looked away and pulled some papers from his carpetbag.
‘I’d like to check a few details…’
‘Details?’ Baldwin said in a flat voice and Jones suddenly saw the old man’s eyes were cold and dead. ‘You calling me a liar, son?’
Although the words were said quietly, Jones suddenly felt very afraid.
‘No…no,’ he stuttered, ‘but there are many impostors that have, in the past, claimed to be historical figures…such as…you…sir…’
Baldwin chuckled at that.
‘Well, I ain’t no impostor or whatever you calls it.’
‘I’d like to ask some questions, sir, if I may.’
Baldwin shrugged, blowing pungent grey smoke into the air.
‘Where were you born?’
‘New York City, the same as Annie. I found out later we were born a few blocks away from each other in Brooklyn. Course I’m probably fifteen years or thereabouts older than her.’
‘Horace Frederick Baldwin is your full name?’
‘Yep. Now you can see why I preferred Bullets!’
He laughed in that brittle voice which suddenly dissolved into a hacking and deep cough. As he spluttered into a stained rag, Jones turned his head as he thought he saw blood.
Baldwin recovered and wrapping his threadbare dignity around himself, smiled crookedly at the young man.
‘I expect you got a lot of questions, son?’
‘Yes sir.’
Hamilton asked all the usual questions — date of birth, first bank the Avenging Annie gang robbed — and Baldwin knew them all.
However, Jones needed to be sure so he decided to test the old man.
He rummaged through his papers and asked his subtle question.
‘Were you there the day Annie was shot? It was when the gang robbed the Farmers Home Bank at Hope…’
The old man gave Jones a hard look and firmly shook his head.
‘Never robbed any bank in Hope, young fellah and Annie was shot at Salvation Wells.’
He sighed and sucked on the pipe.
‘That was a darn mess. We should never have tried it. Was never the same without Floyd and Jesse. We were forced into it and that Riggs fellah was a low down…’ He stopped and smiled. ‘Is that the right answer to your trick question, son?’
Hamilton nodded and took out his notepad.
‘Yes, it is. Well, I have to say you appear to be who you claim to be, Mister Baldwin.’
‘Ain’t that a relief,’ Baldwin chuckled, eyes twinkling, ‘thought I might find out I wasn’t me!’
Hamilton ignored the gibe and said primly, ‘you can tell me your story.’
‘Am I getting my money for this?’
Baldwin locked eyes with the young reporter.
‘I need the money for a headstone, son,’ he explained. ‘I seemed to have made a habit of giving my money away. I don’t want to be buried in no paupers’ grave!’
‘You’ll get your money, Mister Baldwin, Mister Greeley has authorised the payment.’
‘And you’ll take care of the burial?’
Jones sighed.
‘Yes, Mister Baldwin that will be catered for…’
‘And the headstone as I want? I wrote it down but you’ll have to fix the spelling and stuff.’
Jones nodded.
‘It’ll be done.’
‘Give me your word, son,’ Bullets asked in a soft voice.
Jones looked into those old eyes, swallowed and said softly, ‘you have my word.’
Baldwin nodded and stared vacantly at the wall for a moment, remembering a time long gone.
Then he began.
‘I was hightailing it through the Creek Nation after a little misunderstanding about a horse. These sodbusters claimed I stole it but that’s another story. A hot summer was in the offering and I fell in with John Henry. That was a mistake but if I hadn’t, I wouldn’t have met Annie…’
Thomas Greeley finished reading and dropped the paper on the desk. His feet were on the desk and he relit a fat cigar, the match spluttering against his cowboy boots.
‘Good writing, son; it took me right back,’ he said a little wistfully. ‘The folks will like that yarn. God darn it, that Annie Parker was a hell of a woman!’
He pulled his feet off the desk and fixed Jones with his good eye.
‘You sure this fellah is Bullets Baldwin?’
‘He knew all the historical facts, sir.’
Greeley nodded. ‘It has the ring of truth about it, that’s a fact but there is a bit of that dime store novel Tales of the Avenging Annie.’
‘There is an element of that, sir, but I guessed the readers will enjoy it.’
‘Yes, that’s a fact.’
Greeley stood and looked down at Jones who was perched on the visitor’s chair.
‘You don’t mention that Annie Parker was killed at Salvation Wells,’ Greeley pointed out. ‘There have always been stories that she didn’t go down in that gunfight, even though J. C. Holliday reported that he had killed her. It would be good to lay all that to rest. Did Baldwin confirm that Avenging Annie was killed in Salvation Wells?’
‘Ah, no…not really.’
Jones fidgeted with his notes, avoiding the other man’s eyes and Greeley watched him for a moment. Then, he smiled.
‘I’ve been a newspaper man for a long time, son, I’ve had people of all shapes and sizes try to lie to me and my nose tells me you are holding out.’
Jones sighed. ‘Baldwin spun some tall tales, sir, and I only reported those that could be verified.’
Greeley leaned over the desk and stared at the nervous young reporter.
‘Tall tales? He told you about the gunfight, though? You didn’t make this up?’ Greeley picked the papers up and shook them once.
‘I certainly did not make anything up,’ Jones said indignantly, ‘but I reported only the facts.’
‘But you don’t give a clear picture. God darn it, Jones! Did Bullets Baldwin tell you what happened to Avenging Annie?’
‘Well,’ Jones said as he loosened his stiff collar, ‘he kind of did…but it’s unverified…’
Exasperated, Greeley cut in. ‘Did he see her get shot?’
‘Yes sir, he did and I put that in the story as some of the townsfolk saw it as well and it was reported in the Tulsa Bugle…’
‘I know that, son! I know the official record!’
Greeley was becoming cross and pointed a finger at Jones. It was his favourite gesture and he liked to think it was like holding a six-shooter on the young man.
‘Did he see Annie Parker die?’
‘No, sir, he did not.’
Greeley sighed and sat down heavily.
‘I thought we’d have some corroboration of her death at last.’
Jones sat with his head down while Greeley put his boots back on the desk and studied them.
‘What did he see?’ Greeley asked after a moment and Jones shifted uncomfortably.
‘Well…’
‘Spit it out, god darn it!’
‘He claims he saw her ride off.’
Greeley sat bolt upright, feet coming off the desk with a bang!
‘He saw what?’
‘That’s what he said, sir, he said that Annie Parker was shot but managed to stay on her horse and rode off.’
‘Well, I’ll be…’ Greeley smiled at Jones. ‘That’s a good yarn, why didn’t you put that in the story? Folks will like to think she got away. I know it’s unverified as you keep saying but folks would like a small piece of hope. Hope is a little hard to find these days.’
‘Ah, because…Baldwin claimed…um…’
‘Claimed what? God darn it, Jones, it’s like drawing blood from a cactus! What did he say?’
Jones took a deep breath.
‘Bullets Baldwin claimed that Annie Parker is still alive.’
Greeley spun around in his chair, his face white.
‘And,’ Jones continued, ‘he knows where she is.’
The small ranch was on the top of the hill and the horse harnessed to the buggy, plodded steadily up the slope.
As Jones approached, he saw a woman standing on the porch, holding her grey hair in the wind while watching him come closer. The wind was in the trees and a flock of birds passed overhead as clouds, tinged with grey and blue, rolled and tumbled in the late afternoon sky.
Jones tied the horse’s reins at the water trough, removed his hat and walked hesitantly forward, feeling the old woman’s eyes on him.
She was old by Jones’s standards, there was no doubt about that but she still stood straight and watched him carefully.
The simple dress fluttered against her legs and her hands were deep in the pockets of the rough coat buttoned against the rising wind.
‘Evening, ma’am,’ Jones called. ‘Are you Mrs Caldwell?’
The woman said nothing, just watched him with those big dark eyes.
Jones tried again.
‘I’m Hamilton Jones, I’m a reporter for the…’
‘Reporter? What’s that?’ Her voice was slow and soft but the wind carried it to Jones.
‘I write for the newspaper,’ Jones said proudly, stepping closer.
She looked at him keenly and he stopped.
‘You carrying a gun, Mister Jones?’
Jones was shocked.
‘A gun? Me? Goodness no! This is the dawn of the twentieth century, ma’am, we are entering a time of peace and prosperity…’
‘Sure we are,’ she said dryly. ‘Come on in, I expect I know why you’re here.’
Jones followed her into the sparsely furnished farmhouse and looked around. The house was neat and tidy, a grandfather clock stood in the hallway softly ticking and the walls were covered with photographs of children and families.
‘Come into the kitchen.’
The kitchen was warm and smelled of fresh cooking. An aura of warmth and friendliness, the sense of a home, struck Jones as he looked around.
A gun belt and holster hung from an old bureau and the woman shocked Jones by removing a pistol from her pocket and slipping it back into the holster.
Seeing his shocked expression, she winked and said softly, ‘you never know when some varmint is going come along to steal your peace and prosperity!’
She laughed softly at his shocked expression and nodded at the old coffee pot on the fuel stove.
‘Coffee, mister? What was your name again?’
‘Hamilton Jones. Well, yes, coffee would be...nice.’
As she poured the coffee, Hamilton studied the woman. Her hair was completely grey and extended to the middle of her back. Two small plaited threads hung on either side of her face as was the Indian custom but the rest of that thick grey mane was simply brushed back and covered her shoulders and down her back.
She would have been, Jones thought, a handsome woman once, probably beautiful. It was, he concluded, the eyes that entranced you, so dark and magnetic.
There were no records of the birth of Annie Parker so Jones had no way of calculating her age but he guessed she was maybe as old as fifty. Jones was only twenty two so anyone over forty seemed old to him and Baldwin had appeared positively ancient.
The coffee was thick and black and Jones sipped it as the woman cut him a piece of pie and slid it over the table. She had thin gold wedding ring on her finger and a beaded Indian bracelet around each of her wrists.
‘You look a little scrawny,’ she said with a hint of kindness. ‘Have some pie.’
‘Thank you, ma’am.’
He munched the pie and sipped the coffee while she watched him carefully.
‘What you after, son,’ she said after a moment.
‘Are you, Mrs Caldwell?’
‘And if I am?’
‘I was told that you perhaps had another name,’ Jones said slowly, ‘that you were Annie Parker.’
She sighed softly, moved away and stoked the fire.
‘Gets chilly when the sun starts to go. Maybe I feel it more in my bones now.’
She carefully hung the poker next to the fuel stove and sat at the table across from Jones.
‘Who told you that I was Annie Parker?’
‘Horace Baldwin. He was known as…’
‘Bullets,’ she finished quietly, staring at the rough tabletop. ‘Horace,’ she said with a smile, ‘he hated that. How is he?’
‘I’m afraid he’s dying, ma’am. He’s got something wrong with his lungs…’
‘He used to smoke that foul tobacco, probably caused it,’ she said with a wistful smile.
‘Still smokes it, ma’am,’ Jones volunteered and the woman chuckled for a moment until her face grew serious with a tinge of sadness.
‘Old Bullets dying. Then, there’s nobody left.’
‘Except you,’ Jones said quietly.
She stared at the holstered gun and Jones was surprised to see her pull a thin handkerchief from her skirt pocket and dab at her eyes.
‘Bullets was a fine man, a great man,’ she whispered and they sat in a long silence as she stared at the wall.
It was plain to Jones that she was somewhere else; perhaps lost in memories of another time, another place and he kept quiet so he wouldn’t break the spell.
After a time, she gathered herself and smiled at Jones.
‘I am Mrs Ann Caldwell, son.’
‘And were you also known as…’ Jones jumped in eagerly.
‘Yes,’ she sighed softly, ‘I was known as Annie Parker — Avenging Annie. Darn, I hated that nickname! I expect you want me to tell you a story?’
Jones rapidly pulled his notebook from his pocket.
‘Yes,’ he stuttered.
Was this really Avenging Annie Parker?
‘I’ll tell you, son,’ she whispered, ‘I’ll tell you the story of Avenging Annie but you won’t believe it, no one will.’
Annie stood, walked over to the bureau and removed an old shawl and wrapped around her shoulders.
Sitting again, she stared at the gun belt looped over the mirror stand on the bureau.
‘You won’t believe it,’ Annie whispered again, to herself, ‘no one will and no newspaper will print it.’
‘I’m sure Mister Greeley will print it…’
‘Who?’ Annie asked swiftly.
‘My editor, Thomas Greeley. You were a folk hero…are a folk hero…’
‘Tommy Greeley? Well, well,’ she said with a small smile. ‘He’d be old now, wouldn’t he?’
Not as old as you, Jones felt like saying but realised it wouldn’t exactly be polite. Besides, he’d come all this way for a story, and he was going to get it!
‘He’s getting on,’ Jones said diplomatically, ‘but he admires you, so he’d want to print all your story.’
‘Admiration can be a dangerous emotion,’ Annie said quietly, ‘and I doubt he’d print it.’
Annie shook her head slowly and pointed at his notepad.
‘But I’ll give you the chance. Might as well tell the true story before I shuffle off. You just write down everything I tell you, no questions until the end, agreed?’
Jones nodded.
They sat in silence for a long moment and then Annie took a deep breath and began.
(Avenging Annie, published at Cafe Boudoir.)
Angus McLeod is a quiet young man who goes about his life, enduring much but doesn't complain. Then, one day, something magical happens. A small, light hearted story that is slightly different from my other TG compositions.
by Carmenica Diaz
‘Angus, for Christ’s sake! Can you get the file I asked for?’
‘That is the Miller file, Mister Broderick,’ Angus said pointedly.
‘Not the Miller file! The Milton file! I asked for the Milton file, now get it. You did bring it, didn’t you?’ Mister Broderick looked keenly at Angus as if he suspected him of purposely thwarting his plans.
‘Of course, Mister Broderick. I’ll get it immediately.’
Angus hurried from the study, through the white French doors, past the pool and to the guest house where he was staying.
I’m just a glorified secretary, he fumed silently, I might be called an Executive Assistant but I’m just a gopher! The bugger didn’t say Milton — he said Miller! The arrogant prick!
He rummaged in the box of files he had brought with him from the city and pulled the Milton file from its grasp. This is supposed to be a break, but Broderick works even harder at his holiday house than he does in the city!
Striding back to the house, Angus looked around at the sprawling grounds. Some holiday house, he thought, fifteen bedrooms, five car garage, a swimming pool,tennis courts and a private beach!
Although Angus had lived in America for almost a year, he had not quite become used to the ostentatious display of wealth.
As he walked through the house, he passed Shane Broderick, the son and heir. ‘Good morning,’ Angus said automatically.
Shane, looking him up and down, said ‘hi’ with a complete and apparent lack of interest.
Angus shrugged. I’m just the hired help, I suppose but how is that big lug ever going to run the Broderick empire?
‘Here’s the file, Mister Broderick,’ Angus said, placing it on the huge desk that Broderick favoured. He liked imposing furniture and Angus guessed it somehow compensated for his lack of height.
Broderick grunted and started pawing through it as the side door opened and Mrs Broderick entered. ‘Good morning, darling,’ she said, planting a kiss on her husband’s bald head.
He grunted a reply and she smiled at Angus. ‘Good morning, Angus. Was the guest house satisfactory?’
Satisfactory? It was bigger than his apartment!
‘Yes,’he smiled, ‘thank you Mrs Broderick.’
She nodded and turned to her husband, firmly removing the file from his grasp. ‘We promised we would visit the Hamilton’s for brunch, honey,’ she said and he scowled.
‘Do we have to? I have important…’
‘Yes, we have to. Shane is ready and we can drive over now. Let Angus enjoy himself for a change. You can swim in the pool, Angus,’ Mrs Broderick said with a smile ‘or the beach?’
‘I’ll find something to do, Mrs Broderick,’ Angus said gratefully.
‘You can finish the financial analysis,’ Mister Broderick snapped. ‘I’ll look at them when I get back from this stupid brunch!’
His heart sank but Angus forced a smile. “Of course,sir.’ He scooped the files up and began to walk from the study.
As he walked quickly, he heard Mrs Broderick say, ‘you’re too hard on that boy, you should let him relax.’
‘I’m not paying him to relax!’
Angus almost threw the files into the pool as he stormed past but, thankfully, thought better of it.
Sighing, he sank into the easy chair next to the guest house windows and began calculating Return On Investment ratios. From the corner of his eye, he saw the Broderick’s climb into the Mercedes and drive down the sweeping driveway, the electric gates opening with an audible hum.
‘Bugger it!’ Angus dropped the file onto the floor and stood. ‘I’m going for a walk. I deserve some relaxation!’
Hands in pockets, Angus walked down the graceful lawns to the strip of sand that was the Broderick private beach and began to idly walk close to the water. Yachts were anchored off shore and he smiled as he saw some couples rowing together, laughter and giggles floating over the water.
America was larger than life in everything, so big, bright and powerful compared to his dim life in Edinburgh. After his parents had been killed in a terrific motor accident, Angus had fled to America to begin a new life. Working for Broderick was difficult and frustrating but the salary was excellent and gave him a reason for existing.
Looking up, he realised he had walked through the gate that isolated the Broderick beach from the neighbours and, in fact, he had walked through that beach and was now near the public promenade.
The promenade was crowded and Angus sauntered along, feeling the sun on his face and beginning to feel the stress and the tension begin to leave his shoulders.
He sat on a small wall on the edge of the beach and watched the families and lovers playing in the sun.
Seagulls flew low, concluded Angus had no food so flew away.
Lost in thought, he looked around, smiling at the children who ran excitedly onto the sand, the teen age boys on skateboards and the teen age girls preening and exhibiting themselves.
A thin old man with a long scraggly grey beard and equally long hair caught his attention. The man, obviously homeless was carefully sorting through the garbage cans and Angus immediately felt concerned for him.
Everyone else ignored the old man and Angus saw he was taking discarded bottles and putting them in a sack he carried. He carefully examined each bottle, discarding some but the majority found their way into the bag.
‘What on earth is he going to do with those?’ Angus murmured. ‘Sell them for cash or something?’ He may have been an economist but Angus was certainly unsure and inexperienced in the ways of the homeless.
The old man moved to the next garbage bin, stumbled a little and gripped the can for support. As Angus watched, the old man’s eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed onto the boardwalk in a crumpled heap. People glanced at him but ignored him as Angus leapt to his feet and dashed over.
The old man’s eyes fluttered open and Angus asked,‘are you all right?’ He wryly smiled at himself ‘That’s a bloody stupid question, isn’t it? Can you get up?’ Angus slipped his arm under the old man’s and gently helped him to his feet.
‘My bag!’ the old man called in a voice that sounded like the rumbling of an earthquake.
Angus bent down and picked it up, the bottles rattling together. ‘I have it. Come over here and sit down.’ He guided the old man to the wall and helped him sit. ‘When did you last eat?’
The old man appeared to try to focus on him and shrugged. ‘I’ll get you something,’ Angus said, looking around and, spying a hot-dog stand dashed over and bought two hot-dogs. ‘Here you go,’ he said, offering it to the man who snatched it and wolfed it down. ‘You were hungry, weren’t you?’ Angus smiled. ‘here, have this one as well.’
The old man snatched it and swallowed it in one easy motion. ‘Feeling better?’
The old man examined him with the palest eyes Angus had ever seen and nodded.
‘Good,’ Angus smiled, ‘here’s your bag.’
‘Thank you,’ the old man said in a clear and strong voice. ‘How can I repay you?’ he asked in an old fashioned way and Angus brushed the question away.
‘No need. I’m just glad you’re better. Make sure you eat, won’t you?’ Angus said. ‘Bye.’
Angus strolled off, turned a corner, and blinked in surprise when he saw the old man calmly seated on a bench outside the boat shop.
‘I asked how I could repay you,’ the old man said in that distinctive rumbling voice.
‘How…how did you…’
‘No matter. It is what I do,’ the old man said calmly. ‘Sit with me?’
‘It must be the heat,’ Angus said, sitting, ‘the sun’s bent my mind.’
‘The sun does no bending,’ the old man said with a smile, his eyes boring into Angus. ‘You are a kind man, Angus McLeod.’
Angus gawked at him. ‘How…’
‘No one stopped to help an old man, no one but you. The human race should be glad you exist.’
Angus shook his head. ‘I’m going insane,’ he murmured.
‘No, do not fear,’ the old man said seriously, ‘your mind is sharp and clear. Let us talk.’
‘Talk?’ Angus studied the man who appeared to becoming younger by the minute.
‘Yes. Let us go somewhere private.’
In an instant, Angus found himself seated on a log with the old man on a beach of white sand, coconut palms lined the land behind them and the sea was a clear and bright blue.
‘Cripes! Where the bloody hell are we?’ Angus stood up and desperately looked around but the beach was deserted.
‘An uninhabited Pacific island I’m quite fond of,’ the man said equally. ‘I am Giemsa, tester of the faith.’
Angus stared at Giemsa who now appeared to be younger, his beard was receding as was his hair and his clothes were becoming finer and richer.
‘Tester?’
‘I test the kindness and love of humans. If they pass the test, the race becomes closer to peace and enlightenment.’
‘If they fail?’
‘Earthquakes, storms, fires — whatever I feel is necessary to educate.’
‘Punish you mean.’
Giemsa shrugged. ‘You can interpret many ways if you choose.’
‘You test the human race?’ Angus looked around, wondering if he had inadvertently ingested one of those hallucinogenic drugs he had heard about at university. ‘Have we ever passed?’
Giemsa shook his head sadly. ‘No but there have always been individuals who have continued to give hope. But, no matter. How can I reward you?’
‘Reward? Me? For what? Buying you a hot-dog? Don’t be silly. Can you get me back to…’
‘The Broderick house?’ Giemsa smiled at the shocked expression that flooded Angus’ face. ‘Yes, I can. Would you like me to punish them? The man Broderick makes your life a misery, does he not?’
‘Yes but that’s just the way he is…’
‘I can arrange for a terrible disease. Perhaps he could go blind…’
‘No,’ laughed Angus, not really believing Giemsa.‘No, don’t do anything.’
‘Mrs Broderick? She seems unhappy with her life. I could end it…’
‘No, please, don’t do anything!’
‘Shane is arrogant and conceited, perhaps I could…’
‘Please, no. It’s not their fault they are that way and they are kind to me in their own way. They don’t know any different.’
Giemsa smiled warmly. ‘You are a kind person Angus McLeod. I can see you do not believe me but no matter. If you could wish for something, what would it be?’
Angus laughed loudly. ‘You’re offering me wishes? Are you a genie?’
Giemsa appeared puzzled. ‘Genie? No, I am Giemsa and I am offering you a reward, just one.’
The analytical part of Angus took over and he thought deeply. ‘I don’t think just one thing can ever improve things. There’s that old story. A man is offered three wishes and he immediately wishes for a million dollars. Poof! His bank account has a million. He then wishes for a Rolls Royce…’
‘Rolls Royce?’
‘It’s a car, a very good car. Poof! The car is parked in front of him and then he wishes to be irresistible to women. Poof! He’s turned into a box of chocolates.’
Angus laughed and Giemsa smiled. ‘You do not wish to be chocolates?’
‘No, of course not. It’s just so difficult to accurately decide what one wants so if this wish of yours was real, I would simply wish that things were better.’
‘Better? It is done. Thank you, Angus McLeod.’
There was a flash and when Angus opened his eyes,he was staring at the ceiling of the guesthouse. It was a dream, he thought, but it was so real. I must have dozed off here. There was no walk, no old man. But it was so real.
Angus smiled wryly, looked down as he prepared to get up from the bed and screamed! The scream, a very feminine scream of horror hung in the room as he — she- examined herself! Breasts! Angus mentally screamed, I have breasts!
He scrambled to the mirror in a mad rush and stared at the reflection. A beautiful young woman with dark curly shoulder length hair stared back, her eyes wide with fear and horror.
‘Oh my god!’ he said aloud and stopped at the sound of the female voice. His voice, a female’s voice! ‘I’m a woman,’ he said softly, ‘Giemsa was real! But, how is this better?’
Slowly, he/she turned and examined the image. Dressed in a knee high black skirt, a business like blouse, she - he- was the epitome of an efficient business woman.
Frantically, he bent and pulled the hem of the skirt up, long red painted fingernails snagging the skirts fawn lining and he stared at his smooth crotch covered by cream lace knickers and Nero pantyhose.
Suddenly weak, he collapsed back onto the bed, staring vacantly into space, his head spinning as he cupped the large breasts attached to his chest through the blouse.
It was all disconcertingly real but at the same time familiar!
Unsteadily, he managed to stand and it wasn’t until he had walked across the room that he realised he was walking in high heels with apparent ease and familiarity.
‘How do I explain this?’ he whispered, staring at that strange face in the mirror.
The sound of the gates opening and the Mercedes coming up the driveway brought him back to reality.
What will they say? Should I run away? Run to where? How?
‘They’ll throw me out,’ he gasped in panic in that unfamiliar and high voice but, he noticed, still with his — Angus’ - soft Scottish brogue. ‘I’ll be homeless with no identification, nothing!’
As he said it, his eyes fell on a black leather handbag on the dresser and he picked it up. Rummaging through it he found a brush, comb, compact, tampons, small perfume atomiser, keys, address book and a lot of other female paraphernalia as well as a small purse. With trembling hands, he opened it and removed the credit cards.
‘Oh my god,’ he breathed when he saw the name on the cards was Alice J. McLeod. Alice was his late mother’s name and he frantically rifled through the purse but all forms of identification were in the name of Alice McLeod!
‘I’m Alice Jennifer McLeod,’ he said weakly, sitting down again. ‘Alice!’
Another thought occurred to him.
He opened the doors to the wardrobe next and found female clothes. There were far more clothes hanging than he, Angus, had brought plus an extra suitcase. The bathroom had cosmetics scattered over the bench and a hair dryer hung over the towel rail.
Staring at his reflection, he was shocked when his fingers, acting on their own volition, picked up a tube of lip gloss and expertly applied it to his lips. As he blotted them, he stared awestruck at his reflection. The habits are there, I’m becoming a woman!
Without thinking, he pulled his skirt up, knickers and hose down so he could sit on the toilet. As he used the toilet, he smiled wryly, despite the overwhelming fear. ‘I am already a woman!’
After adjusting his clothing, checking his face, Alice walked back into the living room of the guesthouse.
‘I must still be employed by the Broderick’s,’ he said, ‘I must be! If this is real, the world has changed around me, if this is…’ His mind reeled and Angus, now Alice, stared through the window and wondered how Mister and Mrs Broderick, together with their son Shane, would now accept him — her! ‘If this is magic,’ he concluded, ‘they won’t be astounded, they’ll accept me.’
You’re going to walk up there and just smile? Are you insane!
What choice do I have?
Alice picked up the file and the R.O.I. calculations. Taking a deep breath, adjusting her hair, Alice walked through the door and up the path towards the house, her heels clicking on the path.
Her entire body felt awkward but, increasingly familiar although the altered centre of gravity was disconcerting as was the constant pulling of the bra strap. Bra strap! I’m wearing a bra!
But you need to, you are a big girl.
I’m wearing a bra!
Why am I so calm? I should be going around the twist now! Why so calm?
It occurred to him that whatever magic had been used - and he found it strange he so freely accepted that, indeed, magic had been used — it must also make him accept the changes as well as placing the habits, behaviours and skills within him.
‘Good morning, Alice,’ a deep voice said and Alice whirled to find Shane smiling at her.
‘Ah…good morning, Shane,’ Alice said carefully, wondering why Shane was so polite. It’s because you’re a girl!
‘Dad’s in the study. You two workaholics should take some time off.’
Two workaholics? What does he say to that?
‘Uh…I agree but tell your father,’ Alice said almost cheekily and was surprised when Shane laughed.
‘I just might,’ he said with a wry grin. ‘We need to spend some time together,’ he suddenly whispered and Alice blinked.
Thankfully, Mrs Broderick emerged with a tray with a coffee pot and cups on it. ‘Alice, good morning! Did you sleep well?’
‘Very well, thank you,’ Alice said.
‘You look wonderful. You look very nice today. Doesn’t she Shane?’ she asked with a twinkle in her eye.
God! She’s trying to set us up!
Immediately after recognising Mrs Broderick’s intentions, Alice wondered when she, the old Angus, became so perceptive. When the magic kicked in, I suppose, when I became a girl!
‘Yes,’ Shane said, his eyes travelling up and down Alice, ‘very nice.’ He smiled at Alice who felt her face grow hot.
‘I’ll take the coffee in,’ Mrs Broderick said and Alice opened the study door for her. ‘Some coffee, darling?’ Mrs Broderick sang and Alice nearly fell over when she saw that Mister Broderick smiled back. It was a bright and cheerful smile, not the half scowl the old Mister Broderick claimed as a smile.
‘Excellent,’ he beamed and then smiled even more broadly on Alice. ‘Good morning, Alice.’
‘Good morning, Mister Broderick…’
‘Alice,’ he cut in, ‘Tony, remember? Call me Tony, okay?’
‘Well, yes,’ Alice said weakly, ‘if you insist.’
‘I insist. Now,’ he said, eyes falling on the folder in Alice’s hands, ‘don’t tell me you’ve been working? I thought we were going to relax?’
‘I just…ah…ran over…some figures…’
‘No shop talk today,’ Tony declared, ‘right Emily?’ he said to his wife.
‘Absolutely,’ she agreed. ‘I’ve made some tea for you, Alice. I know you don’t like coffee.’
Mrs Broderick making me tea? Mister Broderick — no, Tony! — bright and happy?
‘Ah…thank you…Emily.’
‘Why don’t you and Shane take the boat out?’ Tony said with a small wink in Emily’s direction.
‘Boat?’ Alice said feebly. What was going on?
Apart from being transformed into a woman, you mean?
‘It’s beautiful on the bay,’ Emily said. ‘You two could swim and catch up.’ There was that twinkle again, Mrs Broderick knows something.
‘Great idea,’ Tony enthusiastically agreed.
‘I’ll tell Bettina to prepare a small picnic for you.’
They beamed at her and Alice swallowed and forced a smile to her new face. ‘It is lovely…’
The door opened and Shane strolled in. ‘We were just saying,’ Emily said, ‘that you and Alice should take the boat out.’
‘Great,’ Shane said, smiling at Alice.
He is cute…wait! What in the hell is going on?
The three of them were looking at Alice and she suddenly felt obvious but, at the same time, surreal, as if she was in the midst of a dream.
‘I’ll get changed then,’ Alice said softly, trying to smile, trying to appear normal.
Normal!
‘I’ll wait,’ Shane said with another warm smile and Alice fled to the safety of the guesthouse.
Sinking onto the bed, she glanced at her reflection in the mirror and sighed.
I’m changing, I can’t help it. In fact, Alice suddenly realised, she had almost become used to this new body.
Looking up at the ceiling, she said softly, ‘Giemsa, can you hear me?’ Although feeling a little strange at speaking to nothing, calling on a mystical being, Alice preserved. ‘Giemsa? Please, change it all back! This isn’t better!’
There was no movement and no reply so Alice sullenly kicked her heels off, staring moodily at the floor.
How can this be better?
Although Mister and Mrs Broderick seem happier and Shane…well, so does Shane.
He’s very cute.
Wait! What am I doing!
Alice stood up and stared at the mirror and a beautiful but confused woman stared back. Sighing, she slowly began to undress and it wasn’t until Alice was in her bra and knickers that the full impact of her new body swept through her.
Staring at this image of a beautiful woman in cream lingerie did nothing, nothing at all! In fact, Alice surveyed her image critically and wondered if she had put on a little weight around her thighs. I’ll swim laps tomorrow, do a lot of kicking.
Wait! This is not you! This is…this is Alice!
Shaking her head to clear it of these strange thoughts, Alice rummaged through the clothes and found a green one-piece swimsuit with an island pattern around the bust.
Almost on automatic pilot, in a way that’s exactly what it was like, Alice stripped her lingerie off, undoing her bra expertly, massaging the flesh where the bra strap had cut into it and then slipped on the swimsuit without a seconds thought.
A short skirt, a white tee-shirt and white sandals were next. As she was tying her hair into a ponytail and adjusting her make up, she wondered what Shane would think of her in the swimsuit.
Suddenly, an image of Shane looming over her, smiling down and with a look in his eyes that told Alice very clearly that he was about to kiss her!
Shane kissed her!
This is insane! Where are these memories coming from?
Alice gripped the dressing table to steady herself as thoughts collided within her mind, almost as if two parts of herself were arguing!
They’re happy. You’re happy!
No, how is this better?
Relax, enjoy it, see how the other half lives — the better half!
Alice picked up a striped canvas beach with trembling hands and transferred compact, purse, comb, brush and a other things from her handbag without thinking and then added a striped beach towel.
Alice and Shane have kissed!
I have kissed him! Me! Alice…I mean...Angus!
A small memory swam to the service and she sat down abruptly with the weight of the realisation.
I liked it! I liked it when he kissed me!
Alice stood and leaned close to the mirror, staring deeply into her eyes. A memory of a similar time when she stared at her newly pierced ears when she was just nine years old swept back to her and again, Alice shook her head.
‘I’m going,’ Alice said very softly, ‘Angus is going.’
‘Giemsa, where are you?’ she asked plaintively but only there was only silence.
Slipping the canvas bag over her shoulder, retrieving her sunglasses from the handbag — her handbag — Alice stepped outside and saw Shane seated on the back step, a picnic basket by his legs.
Slowly, Alice walked up and Shane stood to greet her, a warm smile on his lips and his eyes tender and hot. Alice noticed his large hands, the outline of his forearms and felt a little warm.
‘Sorry,’ she said quietly, ‘it took me ages to decide what to wear.’
‘It was worth it,’ he said simply, taking her hand to pull her close. ‘I can’t get used to how beautiful you are.’
Heat surged through her as Shane held her loosely and softly kissed her, his warm lips pressing against hers and Alice found herself willingly returning the kiss.
‘I’ll take the picnic basket,’ Shane said. ‘I suspect Bettina has outdone herself.
Alice smiled and hand in hand they walked to the small jetty at the end of the house where the motor boat was moored.
They boarded the boat in a easy silence and Alice watched as Shane started the motor and guided the boat away from the jetty. His big hands cradled the wheel lightly and Alice wondered what it would be like to be held tightly by those hands, to be squeezed while kissed and then…
Stop! What are you thinking!
‘It’s a beautiful day,’ Shane said as he steered and grinned at her.
‘Yes,’ Alice responded, ‘it is so lovely here.’
‘I don’t think I could ever grow tired of your accent,’he said.
‘Accent?’ Alice found herself saying cheekily. ‘I’m afraid you’re the one with the accent, darling.’
Darling? Did I say that?
Shane laughed, a deep rumble that seemed to touch Alice tenderly in her heart.
‘So you insist.’ He glanced atthe horizon and Alice sensed he was nervous. ‘Can you believe we’ve only known each other for just six months?’
Actually, it’s shorter than that! Try a few hours!
Images, real memories of that six months flooded her and she lived them all in just a few seconds.
‘I know,’ Alice gently said truthfully, ‘it’s been wonderful.’
‘Do you really think so?’ Shane asked urgently.
‘Yes, of course,’ Alice smiled and, again, wondered why he was so nervous.
Shane stopped the boat, dropped a small anchor and sat beside Alice.
‘Look, Alice,’ he said in a rush, ‘I know I’m useless at business while you’re such a genius. Dad thinks the world of you but, I have to tell you something.’
Alice stared at him, seeing his furrowed brow and his shaking hands. ‘What, darling?’ she asked, concerned.
‘Alice, I love you,’ he said.
Alice’s jaw dropped and Shane tenderly took her hand. Emotion coursed through her and she felt deliriously happy.
He loves me!
A tidal wave of hot emotion engulfed her and an immense affection — no, love — for Shane claimed her.
‘I love you, darling,’ she whispered — it was suddenly true, she did! - and they merged together to kiss.
Shane beamed at her. ‘I’m so glad, I’ve been worried like hell because,’ he said, rummaged in his pocket, producing a small box and opening it to reveal a glittering diamond engagement ring, ‘I want to ask you to marry me. Please, will you marry me? It’s a little difficult to kneel in a boat but I will if you want me to.’
Marry? He wants to marry me?
Alice burst into tears and clung to him.
‘Don’t give me an answer, darling,’ he whispered, ‘not yet. Please think about it.’
Of course I need to think about it!
No, you love him! You have been hoping he would ask! What on earth is there to think about?
‘Yes,’ she found herself saying, ‘yes! Yes! Yes!’
Shane slipped the ring on her finger and she looked at it proudly.
A small but fading voice deep within her protested but Alice ignored it, kissing Shane deeply, feeling his hard body against hers and she knew this was what she wanted.
They broke apart almost shyly, smiled at each other and kissed again, the ring glittering on her finger and she could feel his hardness against her stomach as he pushed her back.
Other boats drifted past and he grinned sheepishly and arranged himself next to her, arm around her
shoulders. Alice laid her head against his shoulder, pulling a towel over his lap and slipping her hand underneath it to caress his hard cock through his shorts.
‘You seem to love kissing me,’ she murmured, fingers stroking.
‘I love everything about you,’ Shane whispered, his lips in her hair, ‘but be careful, I could have an accident.’
‘You don’t like it?’ Alice pouted, slowly unzipping his fly under cover of the towel and looking up at him with a wicked grin.
‘You know I do, honey,’ he gasped as her fingers closed around his cock. He’s large! I can’t wait to feel him inside me!
‘There are people watching,’ he cautioned as her fingers slowly slid up and down his cock, hidden by the towel.
‘I don’t care,’ she whispered, feeling wanton and loved.
‘You wicked woman,’ he moaned and kissed her again. ‘People can tell what you’re doing…’
‘All right,’ Alice said teasingly and released his cock, sliding her hand out from under the towel. ‘Later.’
They walked slowly back to the house, Alice’s head on his shoulder and holding hands. ‘Should I tell them?’ Shane asked softly. ‘Mom has guessed, I think.’
Alice recalled the twinkling eyes of Shane’s mother and agreed.
‘Probably,’ Alice replied. Should they casually announce they were getting married? What about Angus?
‘Let’s tell them,’ Alice said quietly and, at that moment, the last remnants of Angus felt life slipping away as his memories were subtly being altered to be viewed from Alice’s perspective. Being with Shane was more important than anything and the world suddenly seemed very different — better.
Mrs Broderick was in the kitchen, laughing and talking with Bettina the cook when they walked in.
‘Mom,’ Shane said with a grin, ‘we’ve something to tell you.’
He squeezed Alice’s hand while Emily and Bettina grinned, waiting expectantly. ‘I’ve asked Alice to marry me and she’s agreed.’
Mrs Broderick seized Alice in an enormous hug and Alice saw small tears in her eyes. ‘Alice! I’m so glad! This is great news!’
Bettina also seized Alice and hugged her and then turned her attention to Shane.
Tony Broderick, brought by the noise appeared in the kitchen. ‘Is this what I think it is?’ he asked excitedly and Shane grinned sheepishly. He warmly hugged Alice and smiled at her. ‘I guessed when Shane couldn’t take his eyes off you the first time you joined us. It’s great to have a daughter.’
Alice blushed and smiled at them all. ‘Thank you all so much. It’s wonderful. I’m so happy,’ she said and began crying.
Emily hugged her again. Tony Broderick slapped Shane on the shoulder, grinning up at him and Bettina announced, ‘Coffee?’
‘No,’ Tony said, ‘champagne!’
‘Alice,’ Emily said suddenly, ‘do you want to call your parents and give them the news?’
‘My parents?’ Alice said stupidly. My parents are dead! Angus floated to the surface and the world suddenly seemed strange again.
‘I’ve got the number,’ Shane said with a sly grin, ‘I rang your Dad and asked his permission.’
Emily and Tony laughed. ‘That’s my boy,’ Tony said proudly.
‘You rang…Dad?’
‘Yes, honey. They’re waiting for a call and they said it didn’t matter what time. Here, I’ll dial it for you.’
When the phone was in her hand and ringing, Alice’s heart was pounding so loudly she was sure it drowned out thee excited buzz of conversation between the Broderick family.
The was a click and that warm, soft voice came on.‘Hello?’
‘Mum?’
‘Hello, dear,’ Alice’s mother said excitedly. ‘How are you?’
‘Wonderful,’ Alice said and burst into tears. ‘I’m so happy,’ she sobbed.
‘You have some news, dear?’ Alice’s mother prompted, excitedly. ‘Your father is pacing up and down like a tiger. You know how he is.’
Yes, I know how he is! ‘Mum, it’s wonderful to hear your voice…’
‘And yours.’
‘I’m getting married!’
‘I’m so glad! Shane is a wonderful boy. We both liked him when you flew home last month.’
We flew home last month? At that thought,memories of that wonderful trip flooded through Alice’s mind, filling the nooks and crannies with details and emotions. God, she loved Shane!
‘I’ll put your father on.’
There was a pause, then her father’s deep and mellow voice, always kind, filled her up. ‘How’s my little girl?’
Memories of sitting on his knee, walking hand in hand to the park and how he patiently helped her to learn to ride her bicycle swept through her.
‘Dad…’ Alice choked and tried to smile.
‘I’m so glad for you, he’s a wonderful boy. Although,I don’t know whether I’m ready to be a grandfather.’
Alice laughed. ‘Dad, you sound wonderful…’
‘I’m rather well, actually, Played golf yesterday and beat Edward for the first time.’
‘How is Uncle Edward?’
‘Still the same but he’ll be chuffed as well. Tell Tony we’re coming over.’
‘You are?’
‘Of course.’
Tony was signalling and Alice smiled at him. ‘I’ll put him on. My father,’ Alice said, holding the telephone out to Tony who eagerly took it.
‘Bill! Isn’t it great news! Sure, that’s great! Let me do the arrangements, you and Mrs McLeod will stay with Emily and I. It’s no problem, it’ll be fun!’
Alice took Shane’s hand and led him to the French doors. ‘I do love you, you know,’ she whispered.
‘I know and I know you.’
Alice slipped her arms around him and laid her head on his chest. ‘I never knew that life could be so…’
‘Good?’
‘Better.’
Her work is available from www.cafeboudoir.com
It is 1984 and Allan Stratton is living a rather dull life as a jazz pianist, living in the shadow of his famous brother Edward, a renowned Shakespearean actor.
Edward suddenly and mysteriously disappears in Soviet controlled Europe, the British Government washes their hands of the entire incident and Allan suspects there is more to it than meets the eye but is powerless to do anything about it.
And then, on a wet London night, a woman knocks on the door of Allan’s flat, claims she is Edward’s girlfriend and has a plan to find Edward and rescue him from a Soviet prison.
That plan however involves an all girl band The Heather James All Stars and the new piano player Elizabeth Grey.
Originally published as two separate volumes — Elizabeth Grey: The Lady is Waiting & Elizabeth Grey: Heart, this is the first chapter: No Matter What It Takes.
The bus driver was arguing with an old lady in the front seat and I tried to make myself small, to hide while they yelled at each other in a language I had never heard before. How did the world change so much, so quickly? It was almost like it changed while I wasn’t watching.
Here we were in the year George Orwell warned us about, 1984, and, late a night on a rainy street, it all seemed remarkably true except we didn’t have Big Brother, we had Big Sister — Margaret Thatcher! First the Falklands and now the poor bloody miners, she is the supremely scary woman.
Life doesn’t get any better than this, I imagined Maggie saying, her cheeks taut, harsh narrow gaze, you should contribute, young man, stop being useless and own up to what you are, stop pretending and stop dreaming! Smiling wryly at my imaginary Maggie, I told her we both knew I could never do that, it just wouldn’t do!
I turned to stare at the buildings in the rain, raindrops running down the window and, for a moment, I was tempted to trace the raindrops with my finger. You are, a voice that sounded like my old headmaster said silently, adrift with no connection and no purpose. You are a waste of space!
It was cold, I was fighting the ‘flu and I wanted to get to my flat where I could crank up the heat and get dry. Some idiot behind me was playing his rather large radio loudly and I fought the urge to turn around and suggest that Wham’s ‘Wake Me Up Before You Go Go’ wasn’t the greatest thing to hear at eleven at night but sanity prevailed and I just burrowed into my shabby coat.
I’m not terribly brave, I’ve always been an outsider and not comfortable with my life and I couldn’t even pretend to be able to participate in a fistfight. I think we all believe that we’ll be brave when the time comes but I know, I’m not, I am always afraid, always hiding in case the real me is revealed.
It had been another half-empty night at the club where I played and those that had braved the wet to hear some music weren’t impressed by what they found. I tried to give them what they wanted but I knew, as they were pretty sozzled, that I wouldn’t be able to satisfy them.
‘Hey mate, play something better than this old rubbish!’
Obviously, not lovers of jazz or the piano, I thought as I tried to slump down a little so they wouldn’t suddenly get angry with me. One of the advantages of being short is that I could slump a little behind the instrument, use the piano to hide behind.
They bellowed out for some New Romantic stuff but I didn’t play it, I loved the old jazz songs but, unfortunately, no one wanted to hear them anymore.
‘Can’t you play what the punters want, Allan?’ Robbie the owner always asked, ‘or tell them to sod off?’ I would just shrug and turn away. I hated male bravado and the confrontations that resulted from it. How do you play Spandau Ballet on a piano without coming off as a wanker? I never dared sing, I tried it once at school and the howls of laughter at my high voice put me off for life.
I am here, I told myself, riding this bus because of pride, circumstance and talent.
Pride because I would not allow my brother Edward to help me financially. Edward, thank you for the offer but, I would say pathetically, I’ll make it on my own, I’ll be famous too one day.
‘It’s only money, you idiot, take it!’
‘I don’t want the money,’ I tried to explain; ‘I want to be famous.’
To be needed, loved and wanted, things I could never discuss with anyone else but, I knew if I did try to talk about it with my mum she would understand. Of course I never did, there was the mother-son relationship to preserve, to keep safe by pretending to be what I wasn’t. I couldn’t be what I wanted.
‘Fame isn’t everything, Allan,’ he would say but we both knew he was lying.
‘Not to you, you’re famous, you know what it’s like.’
‘Why don’t you stop complaining and be a man for once,’ he would snap, ‘just be a man and take control of your life! You are such a…
‘What?’ I would primly demand, knowing what he was on the verge of saying but he never came out and said it.
‘Nothing,’ he mumbled. ‘It’s just that you could look…you know...a little mascul…’
‘Thanks a lot for your advice. Though it’s not terribly helpful!’
‘Not terribly helpful,’ Edward would mimic and I would flinch, he was so hard and not at all empathetic. Sometimes he saw my reaction and would just smile and nod. He would murmur, ‘of course, Allan,’ and smile again; a sad smile and that hurt me more than anything.
Pride, circumstance and talent.
Circumstance because of the accidents of birth, that is, Edward was born before me. Edward, my older brother was tall, handsome, imposing and brilliant as Hamlet and whatever other role he decided to play. I was smaller, skinny or as Mrs Pratt from next door would say, bordering on malnutrition.
At an early age I had to wear glasses and later I didn’t have girls hanging on my every word, wanting to take me home to their mums. Not that I really wanted them to. I didn’t get the fuss the blokes at school would make over certain girls, the way they would ogle and make lewd remarks. It was strangely foreign to me, another world that I was not a part of.
What I did do was try to mimic their behaviour, copy their words and phrases. If one said that ‘Bonnie was a good looking tart’, I would file it away and use it later, with a deep voice, of course. Looking back, I don’t think I was successful with that pose either.
I yearned to be friends with the girls but in the teenage years, girls can be rather cruel to someone different and not one of them. So, they ignored me.
The blokes would ignore me as well. It was as if they decided that I wasn’t a part of them, didn’t understand the code or something but I just put it down to my size. Let’s face it, I am rather weedy but nobody cared what I looked like when I sat behind my piano and played. That’s what I tell myself, anyway.
Pride, circumstance and talent.
Talent is the sore point, I suppose. There is no question that Edward is a successful and talented Shakespearean actor while I play piano in a small and rather seedy jazz club where Robbie, the owner, tries to dud me out of my meagre tips.
Not much call for jazz in a world where Margaret Thatcher controls everything and Cyndi Lauper dominates the music waves but I loved playing. It was like I slipped into another world when I began to play, a world where everyone was extremely nice to short, thin, short-sighted, piano players.
The streets were slick and water was running through the gutters as I quickly walked towards my flat. I hoped the bovver boys who ran the streets wouldn’t pick on me and shrugged deeper into my coat, tucking my hair into the collar. I wanted to be nondescript and to fade into the wallpaper so they wouldn’t beat me up.
Jean had firmly told me that I had succeeded and I was nondescript and invisible. ‘You’re like a grey carpet, Allan,’ she had snapped, ‘a carpet that slides in and pretends it’s always been there. You want to be invisible? Well, congratulations because you are! You’re asexual, a thing!’
‘That’s a bit harsh,’ I had protested, especially as that was after our first meeting for coffee. Jean was a trumpet player in another band and she lived downstairs in the same building as I. She was constantly forgetting her keys and buzzing me to let her in and then one day we had struck up a conversation and then I found myself asking her for a coffee. It was like Jean had steered me into asking, like I had no control.
Invite a girl out and get told you’re a carpet — well, that was par for the course in the wonderful life of Allan Stratton!
‘No it’s not,’ Jean said, stirring her coffee and looking around, probably for the exit. ‘Allan,’ she said suddenly serious, ‘are you gay?’
I spluttered in my coffee. ‘What? Would I ask…’
‘Don’t get precious, it’s not like you were going to ask me around for a little how’s your father?’ Jean’s voice had an incredulous tone and I lowered my head. I would never have asked her, sex really didn’t interest me that much especially when I thought I would have to show my less than masculine body. I was never overly attracted to women, just followed my peers although I wasn’t that successful. Here I am, a virgin at twenty-two, not a thing one would scream from the rooftops.
‘No, I’m not gay,’ I protested automatically, looking down.
Jean sneered a little, lit a cigarette and began making eyes at the young bloke who was at the coffee machine. ‘You seem to be looking over there all the time,’ she said, nodding in the direction of the coffee machine. ‘Can’t blame you though, he is tasty.’
I watched the young man and realised there was no way I could ever be as attractive as him. Jean nodded and walked over, leaning on the coffee machine to talk to him, leaving me alone at the table.
No wonder people consider suicide after dating.
The heating was off and I laid my coat over the bed to give me a little extra warmth before slipping in. The sheets were cold and a bit clammy and I tried to remember when I last washed them, when did I go down to the laundrette?
The telephone rang an hour later.
‘Hello?’
‘Allan? Is that you?’
“Mum? Are you alright?’
‘Allan, Teddy’s in trouble, they rang me to say he’s vanished, gone!’
‘Slow down, Mum,’ I said, rubbing my eyes, ‘what’s happened to Edward?’
‘He was on a tour in Europe and he’s gone. The Government telephoned me. He’s gone!’
‘Calm down Mum, who did you speak to?’
Painstakingly, I got the details and slowly put the telephone down, telling Mum that I would try to find out where he was. Edward had been with the Royal Shakespeare Company and performing in a festival in Prague but had suddenly decided to go alone to Budapest where he disappeared.
The government official who had called Mum was cold and distant, saying that Edward had gone off on his own against instructions and there was nothing the government could do. The Soviets weren’t helpful and the Thatcher government did not have easy access to Moscow and its satellite countries.
I tried to find out but it was like hitting my head against a brick wall. For two weeks I traipsed up and down Whitehall, knocking on doors, standing in draughty waiting rooms and then to be told coldly that there was nothing Her Majesty’s Government could do, Edward was on his own.
Robbie, the owner of the club, rang me and told me not to bother coming back.
‘But Robbie,’ I whined, ‘I need the work.’
‘Find something else. I’ve got this hot looking bird that sings as well as plays. Her voice isn’t great but she’s got all the right proportions — can’t see her own shoes if you know what I mean.’ Robbie snickered down the line.’
‘But my fans…’
Robbie was still laughing when he hung up.
Although I kept trying to find out what happened to Edward, I was beginning to believe it was hopeless. One official had taken pity on me, taken my elbow and led me to a corner where she had said pithily, ‘your brother has been rather silly, I’m afraid he’s gone. There is no hope.’
‘What do you mean by that?’ I had desperately asked.
She looked me up and down over her glasses. ‘Are you really his brother?’
‘Yes, why?’
‘You look so different, he’s so masculine and…well…’
‘You know my brother?’
She had laughed coarsely. ‘Like in the biblical sense? Well…yes.’ She had winked and left me alone in the draughty corridor.
It seemed Edward was gone and I wondered how I was going to tell Mum.
It took me an hour to prepare myself to call her. Mum had been injured in an accident a long time ago and had lost her right leg below the knee but she was a very strong woman who had raised both Edward and I on her own. How do I tell her that her favourite son was gone, probably dead?
My fingers lingered on the telephone, thinking it wasn’t fair that I had to make this call. I stared at myself in the mirror, brushed my long hair from my face and tried to see a strong resemblance between Edward and myself. There wasn’t one. He was tall and robust, very masculine while I was smaller and thin, almost effeminate. Of course, my longish hair didn’t help but I was a jazz musician and with that hair and the glasses, there wasn’t a strong resemblance. To be perfectly honest, there was no resemblance at all.
For the millionth time in my life, I wondered if I was adopted and then discounted it. I had Mum’s eyes and her hands while I assumed Edward took after the father we had never known.
The telephone was in my hand when the buzzer went.
It was ten o’clock, I noticed, who would come around at this hour? That tart downstairs has probably lost her key again.
‘Yes?’ I said into the intercom.
‘Allan Stratton?’ The voice was female and spoke in upper class plum tones.
‘Who wants to know?’ In this neighbourhood it could be a trick, the local lads get some bird to call up, I let her in and suddenly I’ve got a room full of trouble.
‘My name is Angela Marsh…’
‘Never heard of you,’ I said, my nervous voice moving into a higher register.
‘I’m Edward’s girlfriend!’
Stunned, I pressed the button that released the front door and I heard the door click open. Girlfriend! Edward had never mentioned a girlfriend!
The flat was a mess but there was nothing I could do about it as I heard her footsteps outside the door.
‘Mr Stratton?’ she said when I opened the door. She looked me up and down and I nodded.
‘Yes, come in.’
Angela looked around the flat and I inwardly cringed. She was well dressed, long blonde hair and was very attractive in a Sloane ranger type of way. Just the sort of girl, I thought, that Edward would have as a girlfriend.
‘Are you really Edward’s brother?’ she asked, peeling gloves off and thrusting them into her handbag.
‘Yes! Are you really Edward’s girlfriend?’ I asked, pointing at the only chair that didn’t have clothes hanging on it.
‘No,’ she said calmly, sitting. ‘I just said that. Edward doesn’t have one particular girlfriend,’ Angela said a little sadly. ‘As you probably know, he enjoys playing the field as it were.’
‘No,’ I said a little off side, ‘I don’t know.’
‘Well, we’ll leave that. Look, I am his friend though and he’s in trouble so I want to help him. I understand you’ve been trying to find out where he is?’
‘Yes, my head is still sore. From bumping into brick walls,’ I explained when she looked at me quizzically. ‘I don’t understand why an actor would be kidnapped…’
‘Your brother hasn’t confided in you?’
‘Uh, no…what about?’
‘I’m surprised; I was led to believe you were close.’
‘Teddy probably thinks we are close but we’re not really, we never talk or share.’
‘I’m sorry?’
‘We don’t really talk,’ I explained, feeling strange because of the way she watched me, ‘he thinks we do but it’s so superficial, just rubbish really and we never talk about what’s important to us, what’s…’
‘I get the picture.’ She looked at me strangely for a moment. ‘Well, he’s not actually an actor.’ Angela looked uncomfortable and tried to smile.
‘Not an actor?’ I laughed. ‘For someone that’s not an actor he seems to appear in an awful lot of plays and the odd Royal Command Performance!’
‘Yes, perhaps,’ Angela said briskly, ‘but it’s just a cover…’
‘Cover!’ I looked at her stunned. ‘What is he, a secret agent or something?’ I was preparing to laugh when her next comment floored me.
Angela gave me a thin smile. ‘Actually, he is.’
I sat down heavily on my unmade bed. ‘Like James Bond or something?’ I asked in a low voice. ‘Double O Seven?’
‘I’m sure Edward likes to think so,’ Angela said primly, shaking her head in one quick motion, and I shook my own head, trying to clear it.
I stared dumbly at her. My brother, the one I thought was a wonderfully talented Shakespearean actor was, in reality a James Bond type! And then I realised that the talent I had envied him for was just a game; it meant nothing to him and was just a cover for his other activities! My stomach churned.
‘I feel sick,’ I moaned.
Angela looked around the flat as if she suspected I had already been sick somewhere in the mess and then tried to look concerned. ‘I know it’s a bit of a shock.’
‘A bit of a shock! That’s a bloody understatement,’ I said moodily.
‘I suppose it is but the fact remains that your brother has vanished and I was rather hoping you may want to help find him.’
‘Help find him,’ I yelped incredulously. ‘Me? Why don’t you get on the old blower and ask Maggie Thatcher to send in the Royal Marines or something. Can’t have Double O Eight And A Half disappear, can we?’ I tried the old plum-in-the-mouth voice but didn’t succeed.
Angela looked away. ‘I’m afraid we can’t do that. The government has decided that your brother is not as indispensable as Edward would have thought.’
‘Why?’
‘I’m afraid I can’t tell you that.’
‘For your eyes only,’ I said scornfully, ‘or something like that!’
‘Yes, something like that.’
For a long moment I stared at her and unflinchingly, she stared right back. ‘I don’t know how I could help,’ I said at last.
‘But if there is a way, you would?’ She was like a shark, straight in when she sensed blood.
‘Well…’
‘What if you vanished, do you think Edward would sit around?’ Angela gave me another thin smile after that.
‘No,’ I said moodily, ‘after what you’ve told me, he’d probably steal a helicopter and destroy an army before rescuing me and then annihilating the villains.’
‘I suppose he would,’ Angela said with a glimmer of a real smile.
‘And then run off with the gorgeous female spy.’
‘Yes,’ Angela said sadly, ‘he probably would do that as well.’
We sat in a long silence, rain on the windows and noises from the other flats around us as, I assume we both thought. ‘What do you want me to do?’ I finally said with a sigh and Angela smiled in triumph before returning to her serious and business like expression.
‘I must tell you that apart from a few of Edward’s friends, we are on our own.’
‘Oh great!’ I said ruefully.
‘We know the KGB has him as they’ve made overtures to swap Edward back for one of their own.’
‘Why don’t we swap?’ I leapt in. ‘There’s your answer!’
‘We have actually thought of that,’ Angela said wryly and I felt chagrined. ‘The negotiations could take ages, even if both sides agree and at the moment our government is not giving an inch. The good news is because of the negotiations, we can bet that Edward will not be ill treated.’
‘What if the government doesn’t negotiate?’ I asked quietly.
‘I’m sure they will as the KGB has hinted they will simply announce that Edward is a double agent, pretend he is one of theirs! That will destroy any confidence the Americans, French and Germans will have in our intelligence network. Edward will never come back and the press, of course, will have a field day.’
‘Famous Shakespearean Actor Soviet Spy,’ I murmured and she looked at me sharply. ‘Sorry, just imagining the headline. What do you want me to do?’
‘We need someone in place that can readily identify Edward with no hesitation, someone that is unknown to the KGB comrades and who has a plausible reason to be in the Eastern Bloc.’
‘Me? But I’m his brother, they’ll see the passport…’ The thought of a Soviet prison made me sick again. I wouldn’t last five minutes in any prison.
Angela gathered her purse and stood up. ‘Let me worry about that. Let’s meet for breakfast tomorrow and I’ll fill you in when you’ve had a chance to think it through. All right?’ I nodded and she named a posh restaurant that catered for the business crowd. ‘Have you got a suit and a tie?’ Angela asked after looking me up and down.
‘Yes, of course,’ I replied, feeling a little insulted.
‘Good.’ She extended her hand. ‘I’ll see you there at eight?’
I nodded and, as the door closed behind her, I sank back down on the bed. My brother the spy, I thought wryly, I could always write a book. What am I going to tell Mum?
‘Mum? I didn’t wake you, did I?’
‘Just dozing, dear, have you heard anything?’
I took a deep breath. ‘I think I’ve got somewhere, through sheer luck really. From what I know, he’s alive…’
‘Thank god!’
‘…but he could be held by the Russians in prison.’
‘Prison? Why would they put Teddy in prison? What could he have possibly done…?’
‘We’ll have to find out, don’t worry Mum, I’m on it. I’m going to see what I can do.’
Mum was silent and I imagined all the thoughts flying around her head. ‘You’re a good person, Allan,’ she said quietly. ‘I always thought you were the sensible one, the brave one. You were always the one willing to talk, to listen and to compromise.’ I was shocked and opened my mouth to say something but Mum continued, ‘I always hoped that Teddy would lose some of his selfish ways and be a bit more like you. I know life isn’t kind to you but you’ll make it yours one day. Thank you for everything, love.’
‘That’s ok, Mum,’ I murmured, at a loss for words. ‘Goodnight.’
‘Goodnight love.’
I didn’t sleep that well, tossing and turning until I groggily got out of bed. After washing my face I put on an almost clean white shirt, a tie that was stain free and my old navy blue suit.
My hair was long, not through any desire for fashion but because I never got around to getting it cut so I usually wore it in a ponytail. I thought it was pretty cool for a jazz musician. Culture Club was on the radio and I sang along as I examined my face. I shaved two days ago and didn’t need to shave again so I was probably ready.
Angela was seated at a table when I arrived. ‘Sorry, I’m late,’ I said sheepishly, ‘I underestimated the time it would take to get…’
‘Never mind. Here’s a menu,’ she said, thrusting it into my hand. I stared at it and told the waiter I would have tea and toast. Angela looked at me sharply. ‘You can have more than that, you know.’
‘I’m not hungry,’ I said, looking around the restaurant. There was no doubt I felt completely out of place. ‘Do you want to tell me what the plan is?’
‘Not here,’ Angela snapped, ‘we’ll go for a walk after breakfast.’
‘You don’t like me very much, do you?’ I asked softly, smearing marmalade over the toast.
Angela looked at me sharply and then recovered. ‘Like has nothing to do with this, Mr Stratton, this is about other things,’ she finished meaningfully and I looked around, expecting to see Russian spies with microphones hiding in the potted palms.
‘If you say so,’ I said, biting into the toast. This is all very strange, I thought, watching Angela primly sip her tea, it’s all a bit far fetched, like a movie script or something.
We finished breakfast in silence and then started walking through the park. The wind was cold and I wished I had an overcoat. The newspaper placards were screaming about Thatcher and the miners.
‘Have you thought about it?’ Angela pulled her coat around her shoulders and waited.
‘Yes. I’ll help.’
‘No matter what it takes?’
‘I suppose so. I have to tell you I’m not really the jumping out of aeroplanes sort, though.’
‘Hopefully then, you won’t have to parachute in.’ Aghast, I stared at her and then she produced that thin smile. ‘A joke Mr Stratton, just a small joke. You will be quite safe.’
‘Tell me about it, then,’ I said walking on and she walked by my side.
‘You will join a jazz orchestra that is leaving London in a few weeks for a tour of East Berlin, Prague and Budapest, invited by the Soviet government and sponsored by the British government as part of a cultural exchange program.’
That got my interest and I perked up. ‘I’ll be performing?’
‘Yes, the orchestra requires a pianist and, hopefully, you’ll be accepted. While you’re away, the negotiations will be underway and, with some luck, a swap will take place and you won’t be required to do anything.’
‘But…if it doesn’t?’
‘We’ll need you to identify where Edward is, city and location, please. That’s it; I have a friend who will get Edward out.’
‘Just like that?’
‘Just like that.’
‘This friend, is he a friend of Edward?’
‘No, he’s actually a friend of mine. He’s never met Edward.’
‘Ok.’ I sighed. ‘It sounds simple, apart from how I’ll find where he is, but what about my passport? The authorities will know the name, won’t they?’
‘You’ll have a cover, don’t worry about it.’
‘A cover, what kind of cover? If I’m undercover, why not get someone else?’ Sillier and sillier, I thought, it just sounds so silly.
Angela stopped. ‘There is no one else, Mr Stratton! We need someone who can play jazz piano and identify Edward and I’m afraid, you’re the only candidate! Believe me, if I could find someone more suitable, I would but whether you like it or not, you’re it!’
‘Sorry,’ I said miserably. ‘It’s all a bit of shock.’
And a bit scary, I thought, I’m not a brave person.
We walked on in silence. ‘Tell me the rest,’ I said after a moment, ‘what’s the cover?’
Angela looked away, studying a young couple dressed in the latest fashion walking hand in hand down the path. ‘Perhaps you’ll understand when I tell you the name of the orchestra?’ I nodded. ‘It’s Heather James All Stars.’
I was dumfounded and stopped dead in my tracks. ‘Heather James? That’s an all woman band! There’s no blokes in that band, I’d stick out like a sore…No! You don’t want me to…No! That’s crazy!’
Is it, the awful inner voice that knew all my secrets whispered, is it so crazy? Wouldn’t you like to try? Come on, you know you would. You’ve thought about this constantly for as long as you can remember.
Angela studied me. ‘You did say you would help no matter what it takes?’
‘But this is ridiculous! I’d never pass, I’d look stupid.’ But, wouldn’t you like to know, really know after all this time?
‘Don’t worry, Mr Stratton you’ll pass, we’ll make sure of that,’ she said firmly. ‘Not to put too finer point on it but you are not a walking advertisement for masculinity. When I first saw your photograph I had to look closely to identify your gender. Look,’ Angela said, taking my arm and steering me down the path, ‘I can assure you that after training and other things, you’ll pass. You won’t be a glamorous sex-symbol but you will seem to be a normal woman.’
‘But…’
Could I really pass, really? The thought was echoing inside me and I tried to shake clear of it.
‘Mr Stratton, I don’t want to risk this mission, you will pass but if after seeing how you look and you still don’t want to go ahead, I’ll let you back out and we’ll find another way.’
‘I thought you said there was no other way,’ I said softly.
‘There isn’t a real one,’ Angela said, turning her face away and I wondered if she was about to cry. ‘We always have contingencies, though.’
‘It’s not much of a plan, is it?’ I said gloomily.
‘Perhaps,’ she bristled, ‘you can come up with a better one?’
What did I have to lose, I wondered, if I didn’t help and something happened to Edward, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself. How could I look Mum in the eye if I don’t help? And could I really pass? Could I?
‘All right,’ I said slowly, ‘I’ll give it a try. What happens now?’
I packed a small suitcase and waited outside my flat for Angela to pick me up. Apparently we were travelling to a house in the country where we would see if I could pass. She wouldn’t say anymore than that and bag packed, I had stood in front of the mirror, staring at myself.
‘They can’t do it, can they? The thought that maybe they could excited me, made me smile but I quickly pushed the thoughts away, telling myself to concentrate on Edward’s escape.
Could I really pass?
The fact was, I now had an excuse to try the things I had secretly dreamed off, wanted even but had been so afraid.
A car horn beeped and I saw Angela behind the wheel of a Jaguar. I slipped in, suitcase on the back seat and we roared off. My fingers stroked the leather seats and the ornate wood panelling. ‘This is rather spiffy,’ I said admiringly. ‘It feels wonderful.’
She looked sharply at my fingers stroking the leather. ‘It’s my fathers.’
Seeing we were heading towards Oxford, I settled back to snooze. What did it matter where we were going? My plan was to be as outwardly calm as possible and just accept everything but I was really a nervous wreck, worried that I would end up being tortured by some brutish East German guard or something when they saw through my disguise.
Could I really pass?
I woke when we were driving down a bumpy lane, fields and hedgerows around us and then turned into the driveway of a rather grand house. ‘We’re here,’ Angela said, turning the car off and opening the door.
I followed her in and she showed me to a bedroom. ‘You’ll sleep here.’
‘Thanks,’ I said looking around and dropped my suitcase on the bed.
‘I’ll give you a few moments to freshen up; the bathroom is through there and then I’ll introduce you to Jeremy so we can get started.’
‘Started?’ I asked, heart pounding.
‘Yes,’ Angela said evenly, ‘we need to see if you can pass? If you decide not to go ahead with this, I don’t wish to lose too much valuable time.’
‘Yes,’ I murmured, ‘of course.’
‘Just one thing,’ she said at the door, ‘don’t tell Jeremy your name. He knows not to ask but don’t volunteer it, ok?’
I nodded and sat down and stared at the closed door. You’re going to dress up as a woman, a sly voice silently reminded me, a woman, but can I pass?
Jeremy was a thin man who smiled when I walked in. ‘This is her?’ he asked Angela who nodded.
Her? Better get used to it, I warned myself, and remember, just be calm and accepting.
‘Can you walk around for me, my dear?’ Jeremy asked and I did while he watched critically. ‘You don’t want the works,’ he said to Angela, ‘just enough to pass?’
‘Yes, if he agrees, we’ll then do the works.’
‘Ok. Give me four hours.’ Angela nodded and left the room.
Nervously, I looked at Jeremy. ‘What do we start with?’
‘The hair, my dear, the hair! Can you take it out of that ponytail?’ I did and he inspected my hair, muttering under his breath. ‘Has this ever been cut?’ he asked disdainfully and I lowered my head.
‘Yes, a long time ago.’
‘Right, off to the bathroom.’
Initially, I felt a little embarrassed being naked in front of him but he didn’t seem to notice and ordered me into the shower. I was in a daze, just following orders and going along as he showed me how to remove the hair from my legs and chatted as he shampooed and cut my hair.
I was like a zombie and passively let him shape my eyebrows and apply make up. I didn’t have my glasses on so I had no idea what I looked like.
My face was red when he showed me how to wear the special underwear that pushed my genitals out of the way so to speak. ‘If you go ahead, we’ll get rid of all that hair down there, dearie, it’ll help reduce the size although you’re not a big boy, are you?’
The corset hurt like hell but he was relentless and I gulped when he pushed some jelly like blobs into the corset cups and I suddenly had breasts.
Black tights and a dress, clip on earrings and a necklace and Jeremy was satisfied. ‘Let me look,’ he said and I stood there feeling like I couldn’t breathe and tottering on the high heel shoes he had forced my feet into.
Through the blur, I saw him blink in shock and steady himself against the dressing table. ‘Jesus Nell!’ he murmured to himself, ‘Emma!’
‘Can I see?’ I asked.
Jeremy gathered himself and smiled faintly, his face pale as if he saw a ghost and turned the mirror in my direction. ‘I’ll need my glasses.’ Jeremy gave me the glasses with a shaky hand and I looked in the mirror.
An attractive woman with dark straight hair to her shoulders and rather large glasses looked back. I heard the door open as I turned to look at my reflection. The figure was reasonably curvy, thanks to the corset and I looked passable.
You pass, the sly voice returned, what do you do now? What do you do, now that the question you’ve been asking yourself for years has been finally answered? What do you do?
‘You’ve out done yourself, Jeremy,’ I heard Angela say.
‘Dear, she’ll be even better with a lot more work.’
‘Really?’
‘I guarantee it.’
‘What do you think?’ Angela asked me and I shrugged. Be calm, don’t show any emotion, I warned myself, don’t give yourself away.
‘It doesn’t look like me, I’ll give you that but will it fool…’
‘Anyone?’ Angela finished quickly; worried I might give some information away. ‘Perhaps but we’ll need to work on your movements, voice, makeup, everything. Shall we keep going?’
I stared at the mirror and examined myself. The woman was quite attractive, not pin-up material but a warm natural looking woman. ‘I’ll need some new glasses,’ I murmured fingering my old black-framed glasses.
‘You’ll need a lot of things. I take it you’re ready to keep going?’ Angela persisted.
I shrugged again as part of my act but deep inside me, my heart was pounding with possibilities. ‘Why not? Yes,’ I said, turning to her, ‘let’s keep going.’ Angela smiled and told Jeremy that he had me for all day tomorrow and to shoot the works.
‘You’ll have a lot of work done on you tomorrow, it may be a little painful but it’ll be worth it, ok?’
‘I guess so,’ I said but I was immediately worried. What did she mean by painful?
‘Now, there’s a lovely dinner for us downstairs, shall we eat?’
‘I’m starving,’ I grinned and then said reluctantly, ‘I should get changed…’
‘No! Stay in those clothes, you’ll only wear female clothes from now on; you must be comfortable in them and natural. Let’s go downstairs.’
‘Ok,’ I said slowly and promptly stumbled in the high heels. ‘Shit!’ I said as Angela helped me up, ‘these are harder than they look.’
‘You’ll have to get used to them, I’m afraid,’ Angela said with a smirk. ‘Now, let’s slowly go downstairs.’
I wrote my first TG novel ‘Catherine Lawrence’ after I was inspired by Jenny walker’s great story ‘No Half Measures’. Although Cate was well received, I always thought I could have done it a little better — yes, I’m a perfectionist.
The result was the massive saga Elizabeth Grey Volumes 1 & 2. I’m afraid I became terribly interested to see what happened to Liz and her friends.
The two volumes were recently published as one paperback and I was amused to see just how thick it was!
Anyway, if you haven’t read this previously, I hope you enjoyed the beginning of my good friend Liz Grey.
Have finally published the third volume in my Alchemy series - Alchemy Abroad!It's not compulsory to read the first two volumes (Royal Alchemy & Alchemy Discovered) as each book is a complete story. However, as some of the characters are repeated, knowledge of the back story is nice.
Also, have published my own web page at www.carmenicadiaz.com
Jack Rhodes is a research scientist working on a cure for cancer, a disease he now has. His only option is to use the virus on himself. The Mask is a story I wrote in 2004 and is quite popular. We all wear masks to protect ourselves from the world and it is the Mask Virus and a small town called Indian mask that shows Jack a true life.
Part 1 The Mask Virus
‘Goodnight, Professor Rhodes.’
‘Goodnight Lois,’ I replied without looking up from the monitor screen as the last lab assistant finally left. I was always the last civilian to leave the complex; I guess the others had families to go home to, and I didn’t. I have been married to my work ever since I left medical school.
Watching Lois through the glass as she walked down the corridor, I shook my head. Women had always been a mystery to me, a mystery I didn’t bother to unravel. It wasn’t that I was a misogynist, I admired many a female scientist. I just couldn’t understand their thinking or their preoccupation, so I steered clear of any relationship.
Honestly, it also helped that I had a low libido and never possessed the sexual drive than many of my male colleagues had, a drive that had led them into disastrous relationships, acrimonious divorces and then mid-life crises. If I saw another fifty-year-old male in a red sports car, leering at women young enough to be their daughters, I’d puke.
Let’s face it, the statistics for marriage and long-term relationships are not great and I don’t understand why there is this romantic notion of a relationship that lasts forever. The bottom line is, if I had taken the time to engage in a relationship, I wouldn’t be where I am now, head of this research complex and receiving buckets of money from the Pentagon. Of course, there were a few times when I felt a twinge of regret at not having a family, but those times were few and I knew it was for the better. I was much too selfish to be a parent of any description and I thoroughly enjoyed the research projects I had worked on over the years. That was enough for me.
Currently, the research complex I led was focused on virus warfare, and the manufacturing of a discrete virus that would completely immobilise the enemy. General Buchanan had joked that the perfect virus should be able to be used on civilian populations as well, but none of my team found that particularly funny.
For me, the all important quest was for the cure of cancer. It was always something that remained at the back of my mind, but recently I had developed a new urgency to find a cure, as I had diagnosed the cancerous disease that had grown within me.
Determined that the disease I had fought against for all of my life would not defeat me, I had worked on the research in secret, completing the work that had taken me twenty-five years of part-time focus to compile, and now I was ready to test it.
I called it the Mask Virus, although, strictly speaking, it was not specifically a virus.
It attacked cancerous cells by using the genetic codes within the patient’s body to build and replace the ‘bad’ cells with healthy ones. The virus applied a ‘mask’ to the cancerous cells, isolating them and then finally eliminating them while rapidly replacing them with new cells that had been created from the optimal ‘healthy’ genetic codes. Any old cells that did not merge satisfactorily with the new cells were also replaced.
It should be tested for ten years or so before release but I didn’t have ten years; in fact, I believed I had, at the most, ten hours before the cancer within my body reached the point of no return and the virus would not be able to apply the mask. I had to inject myself tonight!
I left the complete research notes on my desk, along with the last will and testament of Jack Rhodes, and a detailed letter explaining what I had done. If I died, future scientists would be able to work through it, rectify my mistake, and defeat cancer. It would be a posthumous victory, but a victory nevertheless.
Slowly, I lay down on the small examination table in my office. This was it, I thought, this could be the end of Jack Rhodes, or the beginning.
I tightened the rubber strap around my arm, pumped a fist to bring up the vein and gave myself the first of three injections. The injections had to be fifteen minutes apart, a device against accidental infection, and I lay back on the table, waiting.
Waiting was something I was good at. I had learned it at an early age as I waited for meals and for foster homes when I was at the orphanage. The meals always came, but I never found a foster home and when I finally walked free of the orphanage, I vowed that I would never depend on anybody for anything. I was on my own, I told myself I liked it and that was the way it was going to be.
The second injection slid in, and I felt a slight burning in my arm so I quickly wrote a small observation note for those who would come later.
Then it was time for the last injection, and without hesitation, I gave it. Within seconds, I felt a strange feeling sweep through my stomach, and I tried to write another note but my fingers wouldn’t work properly. My head felt incredibly heavy, and I reluctantly let it sink to the small pillow, staring up at the glaring tungsten lights.
This is it, I thought, this is…
Part 2 Recovery and the Plan to Act
I was in an unreal world, floating in someone else’s dreams, swimming to the surface through an inky blackness, swimming to the light.
The light seared my eyes when I opened them, so I quickly shut them again. A man’s voice spoke softly and confidently close to my ear.
‘Relax Jack; please don’t attempt to talk or to move. You are in a hospital and you’re completely safe.’
A glass straw was gently pushed through my lips and I felt a liquid dribble into my mouth.
‘Try to swallow,’ the voice said and I did. ‘We’ve dimmed the lights, so you may try to open your eyes again if you wish.’
Slowly, I opened my eyes but everything was blurred, a row of indistinct shapes in white and a long room. After shutting and opening my eyes a few times, the room began to swim into focus. The indistinct shapes were, I saw, a row of people in white lab coats, all smiling at me with excited looks on their faces. To my right, I saw military personnel, mostly top brass.
Some had their arms folded but all were watching me intently. To the left was a television camera and I realised I was being filmed.
The man’s voice spoke again.
‘Ladies and gentlemen, you can see the patient is awake.’ Applause rippled around the room, but he snapped, ‘We haven’t got time for that.’
‘It’s a breakthrough, Professor,’ and, for a moment I thought the voice from the group of watchers was talking to me, but the first voice answered.
‘Yes, it is, but the patient comes before congratulations. Please leave, and only the psychologists and psychiatrists remain.’
I watched them file from the room. They stared at me as they left and one of the men waved. I realized it was Bob Jones, a colleague who had worked with me on many projects.
A woman in a white coat appeared at the end of the bed, and a man in a suit and a Van Dyke beard moved slightly to the left while a third man in a white coat and a shaven head stood between them. It was he who spoke in that soft, confident voice.
‘Professor Rhodes, I’m Professor Henry Kruger. Welcome back. On my left is Doctor Brenda Peters and on my left Doctor William Murphy. I’m sure you have many questions and all of them will be answered soon. What I suggest is that I give you a few basic facts. Please nod if you understand.’
I nodded and opened my mouth to speak but Professor Kruger quickly put his hand up.
‘Please don’t attempt to speak yet, Jack.’
There was something about his tone that made me close my mouth and I waited.
‘I have read your notes many times and I must compliment you, Jack, on your outstanding work. Let me explain what has occurred. You injected yourself with what is now known as the Rhodes Virus, or the Mask, and it worked completely as you predicted but the results were, shall we say, unusual.’
I opened my mouth again but he raised his hand to stop me.
‘The virus masked the cancerous cells as you predicted and then sought to find within your body the healthiest genetic code. It then grew cells based on that code and then altered existing cells to form a healthy being. This process, by the way, took over seven months. You have been in a comatose state for that period while your body changed. It was a remarkable process, a process that had the entire scientific community at this complex completely and utterly enthralled.’
Seven months, I can’t believe it!
He paused, glanced at the others, and then continued.
‘We understand you didn’t know your mother. The healthiest code in your body was based on an ancestor; we initially assumed your mother, and further investigation later confirmed that.’ He paused and darted glances at the other two before continuing. ‘Your body was altered, completely altered, to physically resemble your mother’s code,’ he emphasised.
They stared at me with serious expressions, waiting while that sank in.
It took a few moments and I opened my mouth and this time, Professor Kruger didn’t try to stop me.
‘Are you trying to tell me I’m fe…’ I stopped, my voice sounded extremely strange to my ears and then it hit me. It was a woman’s voice!
‘Please don’t exert yourself, Jack,’ Brenda Peters said quickly as I tried to move. ‘We must take it one step at a time.’
‘I’m a woman?’ I had to ask, hoping that I had misunderstood them, but the strange voice that rang in my ears confirmed my first guess.
‘Yes, you are completely female, Jack. Apparently, the optimal genetic code was your mother at age twenty three.’
I blinked at that.
‘I’m twenty-three?’ I asked and even though my voice was strange to my ears, I heard the strain and fear in it.
‘Yes,’ Henry Kruger soothed. ‘We’re going to give you a sedative so you’ll rest for a while…’
‘No! Please don’t,’ I added, forcing my voice lower in tone, and they stopped. ‘I need to know the answers.’ They looked at each other, seeking confirmation. ‘I’m a scientist, Henry,’ I added, ‘I need to know.’
Professor Kruger nodded and smiled gently.
‘Of course, I think we’ll leave you with Brenda.’
They left and Brenda Peters came closer, a concerned look upon her face.
‘You must be the psychologist,’ I said. That voice, my mind silently screamed, it’s mine?
‘I’m afraid I am,’ she said with a smile as she sat next to me.
‘What is your specialty?’
It was small talk while my mind cantered along at extraordinary speed. I was a woman, I was my own worst nightmare?
‘Trauma counseling. Apparently the Pentagon thinks that being changed to a female is on the same level as murder, terrorist victims or hostages.’
I can understand that, I wanted to scream, can’t you? Why me? Why me!
I managed a weak smile.
‘Can I see?’
Brenda nodded and produced a hand mirror.
I stared at the reflection of a young woman with dark hair and dark eyes with a slight almond shape.
‘My mother was Asian?’
‘Of Asian descent,’ Brenda said softly. ‘The Pentagon threw a lot of resources into investigating your parents.’
‘Is she alive?’
Brenda sadly shook her head. ‘No, she died in a car accident and you were delivered at the accident.’
She paused while that sank in. I had found my mother and lost her in one cruel precise moment.
‘Do you want to see the rest of you?’
I shook my head and dropped the hand mirror onto the bed.
‘I’m a doctor, I know what the female body looks like,’ I said bitterly.
Belinda shrugged. ‘For the record, your body is completely healthy. The cancerous cells have been eliminated and it appears the changes to your body have finished. All bodily functions are normal.’
‘I assume I was monitored during the process?’ Brenda nodded. ‘Can I see the tapes and the results of the tests?’
‘No, I’m afraid they’re classified above your security clearance.’
‘I have a high clearance.’
‘Not any more.’
I was astounded, and the completely surreal feeling brought on by the sound of my new voice and the image in the mirror remained. ‘But…’
‘General Buchanan has moved everything, including you, to a new facility and a lot has changed while you were in the coma. I think,’ she added when I opened my mouth to protest, ‘that you just assimilate everything the best you can. You and I will talk every day, okay?’
Resigned, I nodded and Brenda smiled.
‘Good. Now, the physiotherapists will come in now and help you from the bed. They’ve exercised you as much as they could while you were asleep.’ Brenda leaned forward, her eyes locked onto mind. ‘Co-operate, Jack,’ she whispered quickly and then said, ‘the exercises are good for you. Shall I ask them to come in?’
Something about her tone made me wary. I guessed then, that the room was monitored, probably bugged with cameras and microphones. It suddenly hit me that this discovery was a momentous one, one the Pentagon would wish to control at all costs.
They don’t need you, my mind silently warned me, you could just be eliminated.
‘Yes,’ I said, my voice, a strangers voice ringing in my ears, ‘you’re right, send them in.’
The physiotherapists were jovial and enthusiastic women who helped me from the bed and began to help me become aware of my new body, and how I should do simple things like walk. Well, it should be simple, but it wasn’t and it took a while before I could move easily.
For two days I did nothing but exercise, walk and talk with Brenda. I listened carefully and made no comments but I felt as if I was wearing a mask, that I was peering through the eyeholes of some extreme mask at the world I knew.
It’s ironic, I chuckled bitterly to myself, I’m wearing a mask conceived by a virus I called the Mask.
‘I believe your mind will adapt over time and I think you should assist that process as much as possible.’
‘If you say so,’ I said softly but inside my mind screamed, no way! I must find a way back; I know I can correct this error! I just need the facilities, that’s all and I’ll be Jack Rhodes, male, again!
I avoided mirrors; I could not reconcile myself to the idea that the thin, dark haired woman in the mirror was me. Brenda had tried to convince me that the ‘new me’ was very attractive, long legs, c-cup breasts and a face with high cheekbones and full lips, but I couldn’t see it. The fact is, I didn’t want to see it.
Brenda and the nurses helped me with underwear and I felt awkward at first but soon accepted it. But I became increasingly annoyed that I had to wear a bra, even though I wore only a sports bra. The breasts were the most annoying things about this body, constantly moving and reminding me of their presence, and that they were uncontrollable without a bra. I ignored any attempts to get me to wear make-up or to style my hair. As for clothing, I always wore a tee shirt, jeans and sneakers. They were women’s clothes but I felt a little more comfortable with them.
I hated this strange new body I was saddled with. It was awkward and the hair was annoying. Life had been so simple as a male. Short hair, a quick shower and that was it!
During the third week, General Buchanan and his entourage burst into the room, followed by Brenda and Henry. I was seated at the desk, dressed in jeans and tee shirt and laboriously practicing writing with a pen. There were days when I felt as if I was back in school.
Buchanan stared at me. ‘Is it really Rhodes?’
‘Yes, General,’ Kruger said.
‘Amazing.’ The General walked closer. ‘Jack?’
‘Good morning, General.’ I answered.
He blinked, and then smiled bleakly at me. ‘I don’t believe it,’ he muttered.
‘General,’ I began, ‘why has my security clearance changed? And when can I get out of here?’
Buchanan smiled coldly; it was a smile I suddenly didn’t like. ‘You have no clearance as you are no longer Jack Rhodes.’
‘But…’
‘I don’t see Professor Jack Rhodes in here,’ Buchanan cut me short. ‘Do you?’ he asked his companions and they all shook their heads. ‘We have no way of knowing what your intentions are,’ he said to me. ‘As for getting out of here, I’m afraid you are a highly classified project and we need tests to ensure you don’t spread the virus.’
‘General,’ Kruger interrupted, ‘we have completed those tests. The virus is only transferred through injections.’
‘No matter,’ General Buchanan dismissed Kruger’s argument. ‘This is a potential weapon and it stays here until I decide. I’m going to require a great deal of convincing to allow it to go free.’
I resented being referred to as ‘it’ and was about to snap at the General when Brenda gave me a warning look and spoke. ‘I am compiling my recommendations on that, General…’
‘Good, I will read them when you submit them.’
‘No, I’m afraid my orders,’ she said with a tight smile, ‘are that my recommendations go directly to the White House.’
He glared at her and then tried to smile. ‘Of course, but through me.’
‘I will certainly send you a copy, General.’
He stormed out. Kruger grinned ruefully at me and followed the military entourage from the room.
Brenda turned and smiled. ‘I think we should get you dressed and go for a walk in the grounds.’
I opened my mouth, and she slightly nodded towards the corner where I supposed the bugs were, and I got the message. ‘That sounds wonderful, Brenda,’ I said with a smile.
We walked silently through the corridor, and Brenda signed me through the guard’s checkpoints, until we were in a small courtyard with a high wall around it, a small square of lawn and young birch trees.
Brenda sat on a stone bench and I sat besides her, listening as she spoke in a low voice, staring at the wall. ‘The camera is behind us so please listen to me and internalize what I’m saying before reacting. Buchanan wants to keep you here forever, or something worse, so the secret of the Mask Virus does not leak.’
Brenda suddenly stood and began pacing up and down and I guessed she was now performing for the camera.
‘I believe, that in time, you will begin to think and act naturally as a female. There are signs of it now, but I have no idea how long the process will take. My recommendations are that you remain here for tests for at least eight months, possibly a year and then providing that it is obvious you are no longer attached to the old personality and capable of living completely as a woman, you should be released back into the world to build a new life.’
She looked at me anxiously, and I turned slightly so the camera could see my face.
Instantly, I knew what I had to do. I had to convince everyone that Jack Rhodes had vanished! If I was to ever get out of here, and be free to rectify this horrible mistake, I had to convince everyone I was happy as a woman. ‘That sounds perfectly reasonable,’ I said with a smile. ‘General Buchanan appears to be a fair man.’ Brenda blinked at that; we both knew he was a complete bastard. ‘I will need help to learn, though.’
‘All of that will be provided,’ Brenda said with a smile. ‘I think it’s the best way forward, Jacquie,’ she added nervously, watching me for my reaction.
‘Jacquie,’ I said slowly and smiled, ‘I like it. I’ve always liked Jacqueline as a name.’
No, I didn’t, I’d had no thoughts about female names whatsoever, but if I had to act, I silently fumed, I would deserve an Oscar at the end of this! Anything, to get out of here, and back to where I could do research and figure out how to change back! I knew the problem was making sure the virus would not to select a female code; it would be difficult but I had confidence I would be able to find the solution.
‘Good,’ Brenda said with a sigh of relief. ‘We can begin. Is there anything else?’
‘Yes,’ I smiled.
I had already figured out that females smile a lot. I had to accumulate mannerisms to help me convince the Pentagon that I was not only accepting of being female, but also happy about it.
‘Just one thing, I would like a refresher course on medicine so I can qualify as a G.P. I would like to be a doctor when I begin to build a life.’
Brenda nodded thoughtfully.
‘I see no problems with that, although with your age we’ll have to adjust the records to show you began to study medicine at an early age, a child prodigy,’ she added with a laugh. ‘It’s a good idea; in fact it’s keeping the Rhodes skills alive, isn’t it? It’s also helping the community, Jacquie.’
I nodded but I was thinking otherwise. I couldn’t care less about the community but, as a medical practitioner, I would be able to begin the research more easily, especially if I was working in one of the large teaching hospitals.
As we walked back, I kept my eyes on the military and medical personnel that passed us in the hall, particularly paying attention to the females. If I was to get out of here quickly, I reasoned, I had to do my own research on females based entirely on observation so I could acquire habits and skills.
I smiled and Brenda smiled back.
Jack Rhodes was on his way out of here and a moron like Buchanan will not be able to stop me!
Part 3 And the Oscar Goes To…
Brenda and the nurses had filled my wardrobe with female clothes in the first week but I had studiously avoided dresses and skirts, restricting myself to the jeans and tee shirts. The next morning, I stared at the dresses hanging in the closet and told myself I had to wear dresses every day from now on.
I had always been conscious of the hidden cameras and had quickly dressed in the bathroom, hoping there was at least some privacy there. It wasn’t that I was modest; I still didn’t believe this body was mine, but I didn’t want to give some perverse thrill to the military voyeurs.
There was no doubt Brenda and Kristine, the nurse, were surprised to see me in a blue dress. ‘That looks lovely,’ Brenda said slowly.
‘I just felt I wanted to get out of pants,’ I explained with what I hoped was a rueful smile. ‘I don’t think it looks nice, though.’
‘Yes it does,’ Kristine said quickly, ‘but I think you should wear the belt around the waist.’
‘And these shoes,’ Brenda said after rummaging in the bottom of the closet.
I was satisfied then with the image, it was acceptable, and I made a mental note to think more carefully about my future selection of clothes. ‘What about my hair?’ I hesitantly flicked the long dark hair that rested on my shoulders. How I longed for a simple buzz cut like I used to have.
‘It’s beautiful hair and so thick,’ Kristine said with what I thought was an envious tone, but then quickly dismissed that idea. Why would she be envious of my hair?
‘We can arrange for a hairdresser if you want,’ Brenda said, watching me carefully.
I forced myself to break into a big smile. ‘Would you? That would be wonderful. Thank you.’
She continued to study me for a moment and then nodded. ‘Tomorrow then, and would you like to learn about make-up?’
Again I smiled. ‘Yes, please, and anything else you think I should know.’
A routine was established and, surprisingly, the weeks and then the months passed quickly. I would wake in the morning, dress, apply my make-up and style my hair before meeting Brenda, Kristine, and Sue Collins, a doctor, for breakfast. I was sure they were watching me every step of the way and that was okay as I was carefully studying them and circumspectly including small actions I’d noticed into my own behaviour.
After breakfast, I would spend an hour completing tests for the scientists and often Professor Kruger would drop in to chat about every day things and was obviously careful not to reveal anything about the Rhodes Virus. I didn’t ask and, in fact, outwardly appeared a little bored with the whole process while secretly filing as much as I could away in my mind.
Tutorials commenced on behaviours, health and hygiene, fashion and relationships and I listened avidly, absorbing as much as I could to assist me in fine-tuning my cover. I protested when they suggested cooking classes.
‘What for?’
‘You will need to eat, you know,’ Kristine pointed out, ‘and, from what I understand, Professor Rhodes couldn’t boil water.’
I saw Kristine and Brenda looking at me and I suspected they were testing me. How were cooking classes testing me? I wondered, but decided to go along.
‘You’re right, I’ll have to eat, so why not learn?’ I said, smiling brightly. The funny thing was I came to enjoy the classes and liked cooking. Each recipe was a different challenge, a puzzle that I needed to solve, and it was fascinating. The great chefs, I reasoned, are men, why not me?
I spent most of my waking hours with females and I actually began to find it quite pleasant. The conversations were always varied and wide ranging and I learned so much just by taking part.
After lunch, I spent the afternoon and early evening on the medical refresher course and it was a relief to focus on something so clearly black and white, and something I knew so well.
It was clear in my mind that I would not ever become completely female as I remembered everything from my medical background. Brenda had explained that there was no reason that knowledge and experience would vanish with the change, just that now I would apply a female perspective to that same knowledge and experience. I pretended to agree with her, but I thought the fact that I retained my medical skills was evidence I would internally remain a man.
Although I was becoming quite comfortable living behind the mask (as I called it), there were things I was clearly uncomfortable with, including the mood swings and the annoying trait of breaking into tears at the slightest thing. The fact that I once cried at a happy ending of a stupid movie was particularly annoying but I managed to mask that reaction when Brenda looked at me.
As part of the medical course, I worked in the base hospital in the emergency room, first acting as an intern and then after a few months as a doctor. I loved it, working the long hours, dressed in the scrubs and working with a dedicated team. Most of the cases were injuries but there were a few infections, blood disorders, ulcers, heart problems and even births.
I was now accepted by everyone as a female and treated as such by everyone, except by Buchanan. He was my toughest audience.
Buchanan watched my progress with a cynical eye and it wasn’t until ten months had passed that I knew he finally accepted me as a woman and someone removed from Jack Rhodes.
Brenda and I were in the canteen giggling at Kristine’s description of her date the night before when Buchanan suddenly appeared at our table. I thought he appeared a little nervous.
‘I hope I’m not interrupting, ladies?’
‘Of course not,’ I smiled and his eyes dropped to my chest for a second. I was wearing a new dress that Kristine had bought - it was cinched at the waist, had a low neckline and came to just above the knee. I thought it looked pretty but now I released why he was nervous: he found me attractive, even sexy! I smiled to myself; it gave me an edge, and something I could use to get out of the complex more quickly. I pushed the fact that I was flirting with a man quickly to the back of my mind before I was totally repulsed.
Brenda and Kristine exchanged fleeting smiles. Buchanan didn’t notice, but I did and gave them a quick frown. ‘I thought I would just let you know, Jacquie, that we’ve completed your documentation and it will be available next week.’ His eyes dropped to my chest again and I smiled sweetly at him.
‘What does that mean, General?’ I asked innocently. His eyes went down and up again.
‘You will have a birth certificate, driver’s licence and medical registration that will allow you to practice as a G.P. anywhere you choose.’ He coughed and said apologetically, ‘Of course, we cannot approve a passport as yet.’
‘I’ve no plans to go anywhere, General.’ I quickly stood up and pecked his cheek. ‘Thank you, you’ve been very sweet.’ He blushed furiously, mumbled something and wandered off.
‘Well,’ Brenda said with a smile as I sat down, ‘I think you’ve joined the club?’
‘Club? What club?’
‘Don’t go all innocent, Jacquie,’ Kristine laughed, ‘it might work on men, but not on us.’
‘I have no idea what you mean,’ I said, winking, and we broke into laughter.
I lay in my bed that night feeling quite pleased with myself as my plan was working perfectly. Everyone thought I was a complete woman with no desire to be Jack Rhodes. It was so easy to fool everyone, I even fooled myself every now and again. Maybe, I thought, I should have become an actor as I’ve moved into the role of a woman so easily.
It was a month later that I realised that Buchanan was a cunning soul and didn’t completely trust the transformation. Bob Jones, who knew me from my time as Jack, visited me. I had seen him around the base but had ignored him even though he had attempted to catch my eye.
‘Hi there, Jack,’ he said breezily as he entered. ‘I need another blood sample.’
‘Of course,’ I said smiling, extending my arm. ‘I prefer Jacquie though.’
‘Sure,’ he said non-committally as he prepared to take the sample.
‘I think you guys must have a huge vat of my blood by now,’ I laughed and he glanced at me.
‘Jack,’ he said in a hoarse whisper, ‘I have a way to get you out of here.’
I acted surprised. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘A way to escape,’ he urged.
I laughed. ‘I’m afraid I don’t understand the joke, Bob,’ I said, taking great pains to read the name tag on his lab coat.
He jabbed my finger suddenly and it hurt, really hurt. ‘Ow,’ I said, shook my hand when he released it and a solitary tear trickled down my cheek. ‘That hurt,’ I murmured, sucking my injured finger, suddenly realising it had been intentional on Bob’s part, hoping to provoke a natural ‘Jack Rhodes’ reaction of anger.
Instead, it had provoked a ‘Jacquie Rhodes’ reaction.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said quickly, seeing the tear. ‘I’m really sorry, Jacquie, it was an accident,’ he added as he quickly packed up.
‘That’s okay, Bob,’ I smiled and pecked his cheek. ‘You would think I’d be used to needles by now.’
He left with a strange look on his face, fingers touching his cheek, and I thought I had passed the final test.
I was correct and the next day, I attended a meeting with Buchanan, Brenda, Kruger and Phillips. ‘We think you’re ready to leave, Jacquie,’ Kruger said with a smile. ‘How do you feel?’
‘Frightened,’ I said, knowing that what was they expected and, to tell the truth, I was a little afraid.
‘That’s to be expected,’ Murphy said and everyone nodded.
They handed me a small folder with my documents. ‘It’s all in there including your bank accounts. You’ve got a substantial amount as part of the compensation package the government has awarded you.’
I nodded.
‘We expect you to keep in touch with Doctor Peters once a week,’ Buchanan said.
‘I would want to anyway,’ I smiled and Brenda smiled back, reached out and squeezed my hand.
‘We want to know where you are,’ Buchanan added. ‘Don’t make us come looking for you,’ he warned.
‘The clothes and everything, including the doctor’s bag and medical supplies are all yours, you’re free to go,’ Murphy said quickly and everyone smiled.
‘I have to go straight away?’ I said in a small voice and I felt my eyes fill. Great touch, I told myself, but I wondered whom I was fooling. Suddenly, the idea that I was free was more than a little frightening.
‘No, of course not,’ Kruger said quickly. ‘When you’re ready.’
It took about a week before I had the courage to spread my wings.
Brenda, Kristine and I went shopping in the nearby town and I bought some more clothes: shorts, halter-tops, sandals, sunglasses and jeans. I also bought a car. I looked longingly at the large off-road cars but followed Brenda and Kristine to the compact wagons. ‘Very practical for a doctor,’ Brenda pointed out.
‘The seats go forward a long way, which is great,’ Kristine volunteered as she tried them out.
With the car now in the name of Jacqueline Rhodes, M.D., I cautiously followed Kristine and Brenda back to the complex. Driving in my female body was a new experience and I drove quite slowly back to the complex until I became used to it. I was on my way, I told myself, but, strangely, I felt quite sad to leave Brenda and Kristine behind.
Part 4 On the Road Again
The farewell the next day was tearful. I tried to tell myself this was what I had worked for over the past year, but it didn’t make it any better.
The base hospital team gave me a blue cap with M.D. on it and we all hugged. They were great guys and I was going to miss working with them.
Brenda, Kristine and I hugged each other, and I was crying freely when I finally drove away. I had Brenda’s cell phone number programmed into mine and both Kristine and Brenda had made me promise to come see them again.
However, I knew I would probably never see them again. When I had changed back to Jack, they wouldn’t understand or even know me. That thought made me burst into tears once again and through gritted teeth, I cursed the hormones within me. I was looking forward to being a man again, I told myself, it would take time to do my research, but I will achieve my goal so I can return to my safe, stable and predictable life.
I didn’t know where I was going and just drove South down the highway, planning to end up in Atlanta and start looking for work at the teaching hospitals. I stayed the night in a large motel and decided to have my first drink for a long time in the bar. Out of habit, I changed into a dress, did my hair and face and walked in. The woman behind the bar smiled and I ordered a drink.
‘Put the lady’s drink on my tab,’ a heavy man on a stool at the bar called, smiling at me.
‘That’s very nice,’ I smiled, ‘but I couldn’t.’ Before he could open his mouth, I quickly paid the woman and sipped the drink through the straw. I almost spluttered but managed to contain it. Jack had always drunk whisky, but this was terrible!
‘Don’t like it?’ the woman asked with a smile.
I grinned foolishly. ‘A friend suggested it, but it’s a bit harsh.’
‘Let me swap it for you,’ she said as she whisked the drink away.
Moments later she was back with a cocktail glass with a green liquid in it, a slice of lemon on the side. I pulled open my purse and looked at her but she waved it away. ‘No charge, I don’t get much call for cocktails here, so it’s a pleasure. Tell me what you think.’
She moved away to serve another customer and I cautiously sipped the cocktail through the straw. ‘What do you think?’
‘It’s delicious,’ I smiled, and it really was.
I suddenly noticed that the bar was now crowded with men who had moved from the tables to the stools. All of them were smiling at me and I sighed inwardly. Brenda had warned me about how attractive I was to men, and I had thought she was exaggerating but, apparently, she hadn’t. Another curse I had to learn to live with!
A big man pushed through and stood looking down at me, his beer belly almost touching me.
‘Hi there, little lady. What brings you down here?’
‘I’m just travelling through,’ I said, looking around for a way out of the bar and back to my room.
‘Are you in sales?’
‘Medicine,’ I said, turning away and getting off the stool.
‘Pharmaceutical sales?’ he boomed.
‘No,’ I said, peeved, ‘I’m actually a doctor. And you,’ I said pointing at his flushed cheeks, ‘should get your doctor to test your blood pressure.’
There was small ripple of laughter and I escaped, leaving my half finished cocktail on the bar.
I was fuming when I returned to my room. This is ridiculous, I swore, I can’t even go for a drink on my own and my tastebuds are shot! I ordered room service and watched a movie on the television. The truth was after being surrounded with people for such a long time, I was feeling incredibly vulnerable and alone, maybe even lonely. What in the hell is happening to me?
Be calm, I told myself, once you begin work on changing back, you’ll be fine. With that thought, I snapped the light off and slept fitfully in my first night of freedom.
The next morning I rummaged through my clothes and decided on shorts, a white sleeveless top, sneakers and half socks. I whisked my hair into a ponytail and threaded it through the hole in the back of the M.D. cap the guys had given me. I told myself that I’d have my hair cut short soon and be back in trousers permanently. The thought that I wouldn’t be able to style my hair if it was cut really short popped into my mind and I quickly pushed it out again.
It was beginning to heat up and I drove for most of the morning. Somehow, I had driven off the highway and was now travelling on smaller and smaller roads. The map was useless, I couldn’t figure out where I was, and decided to keep driving until I found a town.
The country flattened and the dusty road I was driving down was suddenly parallel to a large river. Pulling over at a crossroads I saw a sign that pointed to a town called Indian Mask and it was only twenty miles further on. Suddenly, I relaxed, threw the stupid map into the back seat and realised just how worried I had been at being lost.
Grinning, I said, ‘Silly woman,’ to myself and reached for the radio button. Wait a minute, I immediately thought, what did I call myself? You can stop acting now, I told myself, there’s no one who knows you here.
The radio station was playing oldies mixed with country music and I sang softly to myself as I drove along, enjoying the peaceful countryside, the green fields, willows hanging by the water and a few horses running free in their fenced lots.
The road curved and I was later thankful I was driving slowly when I turned the curve. A pickup was on its side across the road. A boat trailer connected to it was at twisted angle, the wooden boat splintered and dangling from it.
The accident must have occurred minutes before because I saw a man groggily waving at me with both arms, warning me to stop. Even from that distance, I could see a trickle of blood on his forehead and his nose looked bloody.
Parking off the road, I grabbed my medical bag and jumped out, rushing over to the man.
‘My daughter’s hurt,’ he cried out to me as I ran closer. ‘We have to get help, she’s hurt bad.’
‘Okay, okay,’ I soothed, quickly looking him over. He had a gash on his forehead, a broken nose and cut lip, and his face was pale. ‘I’m a doctor, where is she?’
‘Doctor?’ He looked me up and down.
‘Do you want to see my license, or do you want me to see your daughter?’ I snapped.
She was in the pick-up and I guessed she had a broken arm and it looked like a deep cut on her left leg.
‘Hello, honey,’ I said softly as I clambered in, ‘what’s your name?’ I guessed she was about eight or nine and was dressed in shorts and tee shirt.
‘Lou,’ she said, white faced as she stared at me.
‘Is that short for Louise?’ I asked as I closely examined her leg. It was a long cut, but no real muscle damage, and she’d be okay after stitches.
‘Yes,’ she murmured, watching me as I wrapped her leg quickly. ‘Are you a doctor?’
‘Yes, and you’re going to be okay, Lou.’ I brushed her hair from her eyes. ‘I’m going to strap your arm to your chest so we can move you. It might hurt a little so I want you to be brave, okay?’
‘Okay,’ she said in a low voice. ‘What’s your name?’
‘Jacquie,’ I said, preparing the bandages, conscious her father was watching through the window. A least he didn’t pepper me with questions. ‘It’s short for Jacqueline.’
Lou smiled and began to close her eyes.
‘No, Lou,’ I said quickly, ‘don’t close your eyes, honey. Look at me, sweetheart,’ I ordered, worried about internal injuries, and she opened her eyes again. ‘Now, here we go,’ I said softly and I worked quickly. She grunted in pain and I saw her eyes sparkle with tears but I strapped her arm successfully.
Leaning down, I kissed her forehead. ‘You are such a brave girl, Lou. I’m going to call you tough Lou from now on.’ She weakly smiled at that and I ran my hands over her, checking for any other injuries.
Her father asked a question at last. ‘Is she okay?’
I nodded and turned back to Lou. ‘You keep your eyes open while I check your Dad, okay?’
‘Okay, Jacquie,’ she said and I crawled out of the car and quickly checked his eyes and the cuts.
‘Anything that really hurts?’ I asked.
‘Everything,’ he said ruefully and I smiled.
‘I think you’ll live but you’ll need stitches. Can you drive my car?’ He nodded and I decided to risk it. ‘We need to get Lou in the back seat and I’ll stay with her while you drive. You know the way I guess, I’ll just get lost. Is there a hospital here?’
‘There’s a small surgery at Indian Mask but the…’
‘That’ll do,’ I said briskly.
Lou was tough again when we moved her and soon her father was driving like a maniac down the dusty road.
‘I can see how you had an accident,’ I said. ‘Does your Daddy always drive this fast?’ I said loudly. He heard me and slowed down a little.
‘It was a cow, Jacquie,’ Lou said. ‘A cow ran in front of us and Daddy tried not to hit it.’
I kept her talking and soon we were driving down a sealed street that soon became the main street of the small town of Indian Mask. Small being the operative word although it was really pretty, the sort of town that you saw in old fashioned movies.
We drove past the courthouse, the churches, the stores and the gas station until we came to a big rambling house with a picket fence. The sign that stood in the middle of the lawn said ‘Doctor William Johnson’.
‘Bring her in,’ I said to the father, ‘and I’ll brief Doctor Johnson.’
‘But…’ he said, but I briskly walked up onto the porch and through the screen door.
The front door led to what I guessed was a waiting room, even though it was deserted. The reception desk was deserted so I rang the bell.
‘Can I help you?’ A large black woman with wire spectacles appeared, looking at me in a puzzled way.
‘There’s been an accident and a young girl has a broken arm and a cut leg. Is the doctor here?’
Lou was brought in by her father and said, glancing at the black woman, ‘I tried to tell her there isn’t a doctor here.’
‘There isn’t a doctor?’ I looked at her, puzzled and she shrugged.
‘The nearest one is sixty five miles away.’
‘But the sign?’
‘Doctor Johnson passed on three months ago,’ the woman said gently, ‘we just haven’t gotten around to taking the sign down.’
Lou suddenly said, ‘It hurts, Jacquie.’
‘I know, sweetheart,’ I said softly. ‘Is there a surgery here?’ I asked the woman. ‘I’m a doctor.’
She looked at me in surprise. ‘Yes, nothing has been moved, the town’s kept it ready for a new doctor as soon as we find him.’
I sighed, took my cap off and started winding my hair into a bun.
‘Can I use the surgery to set her arm?’
She studied me.
‘Are you sure you’re a doctor?’
‘She’s pretty good, Eleanor,’ Lou’s father pleaded, ‘Lou’s in pain here.’
‘Ok,’ Eleanor agreed at last, ‘it’s through there.’
I washed up and I was surprised to see Eleanor in a scrub smock, ready to assist. She watched me keenly as I set the arm and began applying the cast. I casually told her to finish up the cast, apply a sling while I stitched the leg. It was all local anesthetic and Lou grimaced a little but was great, I kept telling her so and making jokes as I worked. She giggled at some things, laughed at others and I saw even Eleanor cracked a smile.
‘There you go, angel,’ I said with a smile. ‘I’d better check your Dad, the brave cow protector.’ She giggled again and I asked Eleanor, ‘Can you finish the bandaging?’
She smiled. ‘Of course, Doctor.’
Lou’s father asked immediately, ‘Is she alright?’
‘She’s fine. Just let me work on you and you can see her.’
‘Thank God,’ he said and I smiled as I sat him down. His hair was dark and curly, his face was unshaven and he was lean and muscular.
‘So you’re Jacquie?’ he asked as I cleaned the cut and I nodded. ‘I’m Scott Carson. Thanks for everything you’ve done. Ow,’ he suddenly grimaced.
‘Nearly finished, though I can’t do much more for the nose,’ I said after fixing a strip over the bridge to keep it straight.
He shrugged. ‘It’s been broken before.’
‘Stand up and undo your shirt,’ I said. His chest was muscular but not hairy, just a few tufts of hair with a thin trail from his navel heading south. There were no broken ribs and everything seemed okay. ‘Everything seems fine. You can go see her now.’
I washed up and was brushing my hair out when Eleanor poked her head around the corner.
‘Cup of coffee, doctor?’
‘I’m dying for a cup,’ I said, rolling my eyes and she laughed.
After all the tests I could run gave them a clean bill of health apart form the obvious injuries, Scott and Lou left. I waved goodbye and sat on the porch, steaming mug of coffee in my hand.
‘You did good work in there, doctor,’ Eleanor said, sitting beside me. ‘I’m Eleanor,’ she said, flashing a grin.
‘Jacquie.’ I sipped the coffee. ‘This is a beautiful town, so peaceful.’
‘We think so. Are you on vacation?’
‘Kind of, but I got lost. I thought I could read the map but I must have taken a wrong turn somewhere.’
She laughed. ‘I think Scott and Lou will thank the Lord you were lost.’
A tall thin man hurried through the gate and up the path. ‘Here’s trouble,’ Eleanor whispered with a wink.
‘Hi, Eleanor,’ he said, eyes on me. ‘And you must be the doctor? I’m the Mayor, Ron Tomlinson.’
‘Jacqueline Rhodes. It obviously doesn’t take long for word to get around.’
‘You better believe it,’ Eleanor said.
‘Are you staying long in Indian Mask, Doctor Rhodes?’
I was suddenly conscious I was wearing shorts and the Mayor’s eyes kept drifting all over me.
‘Probably just tonight if I can find a motel. There is a motel, isn’t there?’
‘Of course, but why don’t you stay here tonight, you’re most welcome.’ Ron said. ‘The surgery and the house is owned by the city and is vacant until we find a doctor. As I said, you’d be most welcome, and it’s our way of thanking you.’
‘Well, I don’t know…’
‘Why not Jacquie?’ Eleanor said with a smile. ‘It’s clean and comfortable and it’s not being used.’
I shrugged; it was probably better than a motel. ‘Okay, why not?’
‘Great!’ Ron beamed.
‘I’ll show you where everything is,’ Eleanor said and stood up. Ron took that as his cue and walked off whistling.
‘It’ll be nice to have someone here again,’ Eleanor said as she showed me the bedroom, the kitchen and the bathroom. ‘Now, will you be cooking tonight?’
I looked around the big kitchen. ‘Probably not.’
‘Then it’s the diner, you can’t miss it, and it’s on the main street.’
‘Isn’t this the main street?
‘Yep, that’s why you can’t miss it.’ We laughed. ‘I’ll come by in the morning.’
After a long relaxing soak in the big bathtub, I dressed in jeans, a casual sleeveless top and sandals, did my face and, with my hair loose and my handbag over my shoulder, strolled down the street, smelling the jasmine in the air.
A woman was watering her garden as I walked past, a ginger cat on the picket fence watching the stream of clear water from the hose.
‘Good evening, Doctor,’ she called and I blinked in surprise. This is a small town, I told myself, and word gets around.
‘Hi,’ I called, ‘it’s a beautiful evening,’ I added, just for something to say.
‘It is. Welcome to Indian Mask. I’m Rhoda Simpson, my husband runs the gas station.’ She turned the hose off and drew closer. ‘Doctor, I know you’re just passing through but Jim has this cut that’s become infected but he won’t take time off to go over to the County. He’s a stubborn thing, you know what men are like, but I’m worried.’
I smiled. ‘Send him by tomorrow morning Mrs. Simpson, first thing, and I’ll look at it before I leave.’
The diner was crowded, I could hear the hum of conversation from the street, but it died immediately I walked through the door, the bell jangling loudly in the suddenly silent room.
Ron Tomlinson rushed forward. ‘Doctor Rhodes,’ he greeted me enthusiastically, ‘welcome. Let me introduce you.’ He took me by the arm and began introducing me to people until I was hopelessly confused.
‘Are you really a doctor?’ A big man in a sweat stained uniform asked and it was plain he was the sheriff.
‘Are you really the sheriff?’ I countered and everyone laughed.
‘Yes I am,’ he said, producing his wallet, ‘here are my credentials.’ I read the identity card, Sheriff John Hopkins.
I sighed, rummaged in my handbag for my purse and found my registration and license. ‘Here’s mine.’
He read it aloud. ‘Doctor Jacqueline Rhodes, guess you’re a doctor,’ he said with a lopsided grin handing it back.
‘Good, otherwise you’d arrest me for illegally setting broken arms?’
‘It’s just you look pretty young.’
‘Young and pretty,’ someone called out and there were a few chuckles.
‘Keep quiet, Donny,’ another voice called, ‘young Scott saw her first.’
More laughter and a thin woman rushed over, pushing herself in front of the sheriff. ‘I’m Alice, Doctor. This is my place. Ignore them and come and have something to eat.’ She led me over to a table with red-checkered tablecloth. ‘We can cook steak anyway you like it or, if you prefer something light, we have some fresh fish just caught this afternoon. I could grill a piece for you?’
‘Thanks Alice, that sounds perfect.’
I looked around the room as the steady conversation returned. It was nice, really nice and comfortable with the steady aromas leaking from the kitchen, laughter and joking and, once in a while, the tinkle of glasses.
It was strange but I felt at home and so relaxed. After all that time at the complex, pretending to be someone I wasn’t, it was a pleasure to relax and be to be me.
They left me alone, although I could feel their eyes on me every now and again, but they didn’t intrude. Alice chatted to me a little bit and Ron came over at the end of the meal and asked if he could stop by the next day to discuss a proposition.
I guessed he was going to try to talk me into staying and told him it was a waste of his time, but he insisted.
‘Okay,’ I agreed, ‘but I’m leaving tomorrow.’
That night, I called Brenda and told her where I was and what had happened.
She listened carefully, asking a question occasionally and when I finished, she asked, ‘Is Scott cute?’
Cute, was he cute, I wondered, was he?
‘Maybe but he’s married. His daughter is a great kid, though.’
‘Hmmm,’ Brenda said. ‘Call me soon, we all miss you.’
‘I miss you too,’ I said and it wasn’t a lie.
Part 5 Indian Mask
I woke up to the smell of coffee and eggs cooking. Remembering I was seeing the guy from the gas station before I began driving again, I decided against shorts, even though they would be more comfortable in the car, and dressed in the same jeans I wore the night before with a dark blue top and sneakers.
I was halfway through my hair and my face before I realized what I was doing. Shrugging, I told myself I might as well continue, what was the harm?
Eleanor was cooking in the kitchen when I walked in.
‘Good morning,’ I greeted her. ‘You didn’t have to do that.’
‘I don’t mind. I used to cook breakfast for Doc Johnson, so it’s kind of nice doing it again.’
‘Okay,’ I smiled, ‘you talked me into it. Mrs. Simpson asked me to see her husband before I go,’ I said after swallowing a mouthful of scrambled eggs.
‘I know,’ she said with a sly grin, ‘he’s in the waiting room.’
‘Already?’
‘Jim’s nervous about going to doctors, he hates it, so Rhoda must have seriously threatened him to make him come in,’ she said with a wink. ‘I think he’s been told go see the doc or miss out for a long time, if you know what I mean.’
I choked on my scrambled eggs and laughed. ‘I see.’
I finished, had a cup of coffee and glanced around the door into the waiting room and froze, the room was full of people! ‘What’s going on?’ I whispered to Eleanor, pushing her back into the kitchen. ‘What do these people want?’
‘They want to see a doctor,’ she said.
‘Is this some sort of trick, Eleanor? Is this Ron’s idea?’
‘Jacquie,’ Eleanor said seriously, hand on my shoulder while she looked deep into my eyes, ‘Indian Mask hasn’t had a doctor for over five months and word got around that you were seeing Jim so…’
‘People thought they might come around as well?’
She nodded. ‘Jacquie, are you in a hurry to get somewhere? I mean, if you weren’t, you could at least see the urgent ones before you go.’
Part of me wanted to say, no, I’m out of here, look after yourselves, sister! On the other hand, I remembered the smiles at the diner, the feeling of relaxation and the look of hope on the faces of the people in the waiting room.
I laughed softly, surrendering. ‘And I suppose they’re all urgent?’
‘Could be,’ Eleanor said with a grin.
It was strange but I didn’t want to disappoint Eleanor and what did it matter if I delayed my trip for a while? Where was I going, anyway? I shook my head. ‘You going to stick around?’
‘I wouldn’t miss this for the world, a young feisty female doctor in this town! Besides, somebody has to update the files, collect the fees. Here, doctor,’ she said, handing me a file, ‘your first patient file.’
Grinning, I walked out into the waiting room and the murmured conversation stopped as everyone looked at me expectantly.
‘Good morning, I’m Jacquie Rhodes and I guess I’ll be seeing you all before I go.’ They broke into smiles, and I looked at the patient’s file. ‘Jim Simpson?’
A big man got up and walked slowly across the floor towards me and I stuck my hand out.
‘Hi Jim. Don’t worry, I don’t bite,’ I said as I led him away, ‘Much!’ and I winked to the other waiting patients. They were chuckling as I shut the door.
The doctor’s surgery was a comfortable room with a big old fashioned desk, bay window with light curtains, bookshelves, a fire place and, of course the examination area.
‘Now, Doc,’ he began.
‘Call me Jacquie, Jim,’ I said, ‘where’s this cut Rhoda is worried about?’
Sheepishly he pointed to his leg. It was a long gash and severely infected so I had to clean it thoroughly before I stitched. He grimaced and then pulled his pants back up.
‘Thanks, Jacquie,’ he said swinging off the examination table and buckling his belt.
‘Step on those scales, Jim,’ I said, pointing at them.
‘What for?’
‘What do you think?’ I said with a smile. ‘I want your weight. I see from this file you haven’t been here for three years.’
‘Well, if I ain’t been sick …’
‘Have you heard of preventative maintenance? Don’t you tell people to have their motor cars serviced regularly?’
‘Yeah,’ he said warily.
‘Pretty important to do that, is it?’
He nodded.
‘It’s more important to check yourself out regularly, Jim. Now, tell me your weight.’
At the end of the basic examination I wrote a prescription out and gave it to him.
‘This is for the leg and this,’ I gave him a sealed envelope, ‘is for Rhoda.’
He was puzzled. ‘What is this?’
‘Never you mind, and I’m going to ask Rhoda if she got it and if it was opened, okay?’
He shrugged as if to say, women! ‘Okay, doc,’ he said resigned. ‘Thanks again.’
I smiled and walked out to the waiting room and to my surprise, the number of people had increased, there were even people seated on the porch. It was going to be a busy morning.
Steadily, I worked through the patients and had no trouble; even the most cantankerous males seemed to accept me although they looked at me with suspicion until I proved I knew what I was talking about.
Mid-morning, Eleanor came in between patients with a coffee and smiled as she put it on the desk. ‘You okay, Jacquie?’
‘Sure,’ I said, ‘don’t tell Ron, but I’m kind of enjoying it.’
Eleanor laughed and then told me I had some visitors. Scott and Lou were standing by the screen door and Lou had a big bunch of flowers in her hand, her other arm still in the sling.
‘What’s this?’ I asked, squatting down so I was level with her eyes.
‘These are for you,’ she said formally, pushing the flowers into my hand, ‘to say thank you for helping us.’
I was conscious that everyone in the waiting room could hear and were all watching. ‘My pleasure,’ I murmured, ‘how’s the arm?’
‘Itchy,’ she complained, and I smiled.
‘You’ll have to put up with that for a while, I’m afraid. Should be easy for someone as tough as you.’
‘Sign my arm, Jacquie,’ Lou said with a grin and I noticed that Scott had already written something on the cast.
‘Sure,’ I said and wrote my name and drew a little heart next to it. For a moment, a thought flashed within me, asking why I did that, but I shook my head, ignoring it.
Lou surprised me then by suddenly kissing my cheek and hugging me. When she let me go she stood back next to her father, so I stood and smiled at him.
‘We just wanted to stop by and say thanks,’ he quickly said, twisting his cap in his hands. ‘We’d better get going. Thanks again.’
‘No problem,’ I said, watching them go until Eleanor gently pushed a file under my arm.
‘Okay,’ I said, reading it, ‘Mary-Jane Brown?’
The morning continued with a steady stream of patients until Eleanor stood in the waiting room and informed everyone that, ‘The doctor is going to have a break for lunch, I suggest you do the same.’
We sat at the kitchen table and ate the sandwiches Eleanor had made. ‘It seems to be going okay,’ I said, reaching for the glass of iced lemonade.
‘Are you kidding?’
‘What?’ I asked, alarmed. ‘Is there a problem?’
‘No,’ Eleanor laughed, ‘you’re a big hit. It’s already around town how you wrote a note to Rhoda to change Jim’s diet. She’s tickled pink about it.’
‘It’s his blood pressure…’
She nodded. ‘Doc Johnson tried to get him to change and Jim always said he would but never did. The fact that you sent a note to Rhoda has pleased the ladies of the town no end.’ Eleanor grinned and then said slyly, ‘Lou’s a bright young thing, isn’t she?’ I nodded agreement and sat back feeling full and relaxed. ‘Pity about her mother, though.’
She had my interest and knew it. ‘Her mother?’ I asked at last.
‘It’s a sad story,’ she said as she cleared the table.
‘Come on Eleanor,’ I said in exasperation when she didn’t say anymore. ‘Why is it sad?’
‘Her mother, Betty, ran off when Lou was just four. Betty was always a wild thing, we often wondered what Scott saw in her, but that’s the way it was. They were real young when they married and it was because they had to. I think Scott was only nineteen when Louise was born. One day, Betty just took off, left a note and was gone. She sent postcards for a while, the last one was from England or somewhere.’
‘Poor Lou,’ I said softly.
‘Scott took it pretty hard, he hasn’t been near a woman since, just devotes himself to Lou and those fancy boats he builds. Scott’s mother helped but she was taken by cancer last year and now it’s just Scott, his father, and Lou.’
I nodded, lost in thought and finally stood up, stretching. ‘Do you think I’ll get through all the patients this afternoon?’
‘I don’t think so, more have called wanting to know if they can get in to see you. I’ve told them I’d let them know.’
I stared out at the peaceful town and watched the people walking down the leafy street towards the surgery. ‘Guess I’d better stay tomorrow as well,’ I said before I knew it. ‘Book them in for tomorrow.’ When I turned back, Eleanor had a big grin on her face.
The truth was I loved what I was doing. This was real medicine, being part of a small community and helping real people. A country doctor has to be all things, not just dispense pills, but also advice, lifestyle changes and a multitude of other things. It was a challenge, but so rewarding, and just one day doing it had lit me up inside like someone had just turned a light on. I loved it and suddenly the thought of working in a big hospital made my stomach turn.
It was at six that evening when I finally finished and I sat in the kitchen while Eleanor cleared up the coffee cups.
‘I told Ron you’d be finished by now so I expect he’s coming around.’ The screen door banged and she rolled her eyes. ‘Speak of the devil.’
Ron poked his head through and smiled. ‘Evening Doctor, Eleanor.’ He sat down and pulled out a folder and brochures. ‘I thought I’d take a minute to tell you about Indian Mask, the history, what the town’s plans are and what we can offer a young doctor…’
‘Don’t bother, Ron,’ I said and his face fell. ‘You can tell me later.’
‘Later?’ he said hopefully and Eleanor turned from the sink to look at me, brow furrowed.
‘I’ll stay here for three months.’ His face broke into a huge smile as I continued, ‘While you look for a doctor. You are looking, aren’t you?’
‘Of course we are, we’re looking all the time.’
‘Well you’d better keep looking, I’ll just stay here for three months.’
‘What if we don’t find one in three months?’
‘Then you’re back to where you are now because I’ll be gone.’ Will you go, I asked myself, will you really?
‘Okay, thanks Doc.’
‘Ron, will you call me Jacquie? Please?’
‘Sure. Let me tell you about the benefits…’
‘No,’ I said waving a hand, ‘just draw up a fair contract for the three months.’
‘But, don’t you want to know the money? It isn’t much,’ he added apologetically.
‘Tell me later, I didn’t study medicine for the money. Do I get to stay here?’
Ron beamed as he stood up, eager to rush out, I guessed, to tell everyone the news. ‘Of course, Jacquie, it’s all yours while you stay. Eleanor knows how everything works.’
The screen door banged after him and Eleanor hugged me and kissed my cheek.
‘You’re a good person, Jacquie, we’re going to love having you around.’
I called Brenda that night and told her what I had done and she chuckled softly. ‘Do I get to visit?’
‘I hope so,’ I said. ‘Come when you can, I’d love to see you. Bring Kristine.’
‘I think we’ll let you settle in first.’ Brenda paused and then she asked quietly, ‘Are you happy?’
‘I think so,’ I answered softly, ‘I think so.’
Part 6 Country Doctor
Once I had moved all my clothes in and Eleanor had stocked the pantry, that rambling old house felt like home, especially after I cleaned the house and moved some plants in. The town made me very welcome and when I went for my morning run before breakfast, I was constantly waving back to people along the whole route.
The county newspaper carried the announcement that I was practicing in Indian Mask and one evening while I was watering the azaleas, I noticed someone had changed the sign in front of the house and my name, freshly painted, stood out. I smiled to myself when I saw it. It felt good and I laughed softly when I realised it had taken them four weeks to change it.
I didn’t have to cook much as the people kept inviting me to their homes for dinner. At first I was reluctant to go as I enjoyed cooking, but cooking for one is no fun. I soon found myself looking forward to each occasion where I ate with a different family.
There were times when I wrestled with what I was doing and why, when I knew I wanted to change back to a male. I do, don’t I?
I argued to myself that the community needed me and it was only for three months, in fact I had less than two months to go. I rationalized that I was building an employment history that would enable me to acquire a position at a hospital after the three months. There were times when I even believed it.
The truth was, I loved being a part of the small community and I enjoyed connecting with the people, people who were becoming increasingly important to me. It also helped that I was important to them and it was the first time in my life that I was significant, truly significant, to anyone on a personal level.
Brenda guessed exactly that and asked me if Indian Mask felt like it was becoming home to me.
‘I guess it is,’ I said slowly into the telephone.
‘I can’t wait to see it,’ she said and we made plans for her to visit. I called her often and I missed her, so I was excited that she was finally coming down after so long.
I developed a routine. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, I would drive into the country to visit those patients that couldn’t get into town. They were so grateful to see me that I was embarrassed, and they pressed eggs, butter, preserves, vegetables and fruit on me as I left.
When I returned, I would pile the produce on the kitchen table and tell Eleanor to take what she needed or distribute to any needy folk. She would shake her head as she went through the haul. ‘Doc Johnson never got this much stuff,’ Eleanor said with a smile.
‘They all think I’m skinny,’ I muttered, pouring some of Eleanor’s lemonade into a tumbler.
‘Well, you could use a few more pounds,’ she said with a sly wink, ducking out the door as I threatened her with a tomato.
One Tuesday, I was driving down by the river when the car swerved and bumped along, telling me I had a flat. Dejectedly, I stared at the rear flat wheel. How, I thought miserably, am I going to be able to lift the spare down from the back? For the first time in a while, I wished I had my old male strength back.
I heard the sound of a car approaching and looked up. Suddenly I felt very vulnerable and wondered if I should get into the car and lock the doors when, with relief, I recognized the pick-up as it pulled up.
‘Hi there, Jacquie,’ Scott called and I smiled at him. You’re glad to see him, I told myself, because he can change the wheel, nothing more. Then why did I keep smiling at him? ‘Got a problem?’
I nervously brushed my hair back with my fingers and wondered what I looked like. I wore jeans and comfortable clothes when I was visiting the farms and knew I didn’t look that attractive. Do you care, I asked myself, why would you care what you look like?
‘Flat,’ I said, ‘I can change it but I can’t lift the spare down.’
He climbed out of the pick-up and smiled down at me.
‘I’ll have a look.’ Scott poked at the flat with a dusty boot and squatted down to look at it, then removed a battered tool case from his car. ‘Won’t take a minute,’ he said with a smile.
I watched the muscles in his arms bulge as he effortlessly pulled the spare down and rolled it around. As he worked, I found myself watching with intensity that I found disturbing. Get a hold on yourself, girl, I told myself and cleared my throat.
‘Thanks for this, Scott.’
‘No problem,’ he said, tightening the wheel nuts and then putting the flat wheel into the back of my wagon. ‘All done.’
He wiped his hands and seemed to be nervous so I smiled, waiting. ‘My place is just up the road if you want to wash up or something,’ he said, picking his tools up.
‘Could I use your phone?’ I said, ‘I have to call Eleanor.’ It was a weak excuse, but the coverage for cellular phones wasn’t great around there, and for some reason I wanted to see where he lived.
He suddenly smiled. ‘Okay, just follow me.’
As I drove behind him, I wondered what I was doing. Eleanor didn’t expect me back; I should have just thanked him and driven back into town.
The house was down a dirt road, chickens in the side yard and azaleas in the front. To one side was a large shed with big double doors that were open and I could see a half built boat inside.
Lou came running out, a big smile on her face. ‘Jacquie!’ she cried, and I bent down to hug her.
‘How’s tough Lou?’ I asked and she grinned.
Scott seemed a little nervous as he led the way into the big house. ‘It’s not cleaned up, ’ he apologized. ‘It’s a little messy.’
‘That’s okay,’ I smiled and walked in.
‘The phone’s over there,’ he said, pointing at the kitchen. I nodded and dialed the number, noticing the sink had dirty dishes in it.
‘Hi Eleanor. I had a flat.’
‘You okay?’
‘Yep, Scott came by and fixed it for me.’
‘Did he?’ I thought I detected something in her voice. ‘Where are you?’
‘At his house, so I could use the phone,’ I added quickly.
‘Of course… say,’ Eleanor said and I sensed she was smiling, ‘did you know they were coming in on Friday to get the plaster off? You could do it now, save them the trip.’
‘You’re right, I will. See you tomorrow.’
‘Sure. Enjoy yourself,’ and I did hear her laugh softly as she hung up.
I turned around to see them both looking at me. ‘I didn’t know you were coming in on Friday? I could take the plaster off now, if you want?’
“Yippee!’ Lou screamed and I laughed.
‘I’ll take that as a yes.’
‘Would you like a coffee or water or something?’ Scott asked.
‘Water would be great.’
The screen door slammed and an older man who I guessed was Scott’s father, walked in and stopped when he saw me.
‘Dad,’ Scott said quickly, ‘this is the new doctor.’
He grinned and walked over, offering his hand. ‘Ben Carson,’ he said. ‘I’ve heard a lot about you.’
‘Jacquie Rhodes. All good, I hope?’
‘Yep, all good.’
He appraised me with his eyes and I felt awkward so I said to Lou, ‘Let’s get that plaster off.’
‘Come into my room, Jacquie,’ she said, taking my hand and I followed her in, my medical bag in the other hand. As a country doctor, I carried everything I could, ready for any emergency and fully stocked so people wouldn’t have to travel into town.
After I took the plaster off and we cleaned up. Lou showed me her drawings, her schoolwork and some photographs. When we walked back out, Scott had a pitcher of water and tumblers on the table. I noticed the dirty dishes had gone from the sink and I wondered if he had shoved them in a cupboard somewhere.
‘Look, Daddy,’ Lou said, proudly showing off her arm. The telephone rang and Lou ran to it. It was one of her friends and she sat on the floor talking and I smiled.
‘I said it was a little messy,’ Scott apologized again, pouring water into the tumblers.
‘It feels like a real home,’ I said. ‘It’s nice.’
He smiled gratefully and my stomach turned over once or twice. What’s going on?
I sipped the water and thought desperately for something to say. ‘I saw a boat when I drove in, is that where you build them?’
‘Yep, would you like to see?’
‘I’d love to.’
Ben was working on the boat when we walked in. The sweet smell of the wood claimed my nostrils and I shut my eyes as I inhaled, savoring it.
When I opened my eyes, they were both looking at me, concerned.
‘Sorry,’ I laughed self-consciously. ‘I just love the smell.’
Ben laughed. ‘I think we get used to it and forget. It’s a sweet smell.’
I ran my fingers down the smooth hull, feeling its shape and the texture. ‘This is beautiful,’ I said softly, ‘a work of art.’
They both looked at each other and then smiled back at me. ‘You know boats?’ Scott asked.
‘Heavens, no,’ I laughed. ‘It just looks fantastic.’
They proudly showed me over the boat and then Scott and I walked down the levee banks to the river, past the boat ramp and stood under the magnolia tree, watching the water.
‘This is very beautiful,’ I said, trying to fill the silence.
‘I like it, it’s home, I guess.’
‘Have you always lived here?’
‘I’m the fourth generation,’ he said. ‘We’ve always been here.’
‘You must be attached to this place, you’re fortunate.’
He smiled shyly at me, scratched his head, and just nodded. I almost shook my head in frustration; a conversation with him was like pulling teeth.
Back in the house, I looked around at the comfortable room, the newspapers on the floor next to the easy chair, and I wondered if Ben had been reading it and dropped it when he fell asleep. The house was very masculine and I could see a thin film of dust on the coffee table, television and pictures. They probably didn’t clean much, probably didn’t even see the dust.
‘Well,’ I said, looking around as Ben suddenly appeared at the door, ‘I’d better get…’
‘Would you like to stay for supper?’ Scott asked quickly, the words coming in a rush, and I was surprised to see his face was bright red.
‘Please, Jacquie?’ Lou begged and I smiled.
‘Well,’ I smiled, ‘okay but…’ and they looked at me, ‘I’ll cook. To pay you back for fixing my wheel,’ I added quickly.
‘Okay,’ Scott said quickly and I felt that both Scott and Ben were relieved at that. ‘Uh…we’ll go work on the boat,’ Scott said, hovering at the door.
‘Okay, I’ll call you when it’s ready.’
‘Okay,’ they said, looking at each other, and quickly vanishing back to the boat shed.
‘Can I help?’ Lou asked as I started inspecting the kitchen.
‘Have you done your homework?’ I asked without thinking.
‘Almost. I’ll do it later, I promise. Let me help.’
She seemed so eager and I smiled. ‘Okay, let’s wash our hands and start. You’ll have to show me where everything is.’
They had plenty of fresh eggs and I sent Lou out to my car for the tomatoes and peppers Mrs Henderson had given me that afternoon and we made a big omelette with a salad.
Lou ran out to tell them it was almost ready and I watched Scott and Ben through the kitchen window as they hurried to wash up.
They came in, hair wet and slicked back, all washed and shining, staring at the set table with the tablecloth. The kitchen was also shining as I found the dirty plates shoved into a cupboard next to the stove and Lou and I had washed them, joking and talking as we did.
Scott and Ben were open mouthed and I smiled. ‘It’s just an omelette,’ I said, ‘nothing special.’
‘It smells great,’ Ben said, grabbing two beers from the freezer.
‘Would you like a drink, Jacquie?’ Scott asked as his father gave him a beer. ‘There’s some white wine.’
‘That sounds lovely,’ I said, tossing the salad and he rushed to open the bottle and placed a wineglass on the table.
‘Can I have some, Jacquie? Please?’ Lou pleaded. ‘This is a party, isn’t it?’
I mixed the dressing. ‘Just that much,’ I showed her the portion with my finger and thumb, ‘and put water in the rest of the glass.’ She squealed and ran off and I suddenly realised what I had done. I looked up at Scott. ‘Scott,’ I said quickly, ‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said…’
He was grinning. ‘That’s okay, Jacquie,’ he said and I wondered why my name sounded so good all of a sudden when he said it. ‘You’re the doctor.’
I laughed. ‘Guess I am. Okay, supper’s ready.’
I put the omelette and the bowl of salad on the table and they stared at it. ‘Is anything wrong?’ I asked worried. ‘Oh my God, are you allergic to eggs?’
They laughed. ‘No,’ Ben said with a huge grin, ‘we haven’t seen anything like this in a while, that’s all. It looks great.’
Relieved I sat down and then said, ‘Music, we have to have music.’
Lou jumped up and put a disc in the player and soon soft country music was dancing on the magnolia laden breeze that sneaked in.
‘This is delicious,’ Scott murmured, mouth full and I smiled proudly.
We ate in silence and it drove me crazy so I asked Lou, ‘How was school?’
Off she went, talking about the teachers and her friends, the ride on the bus and everything in her day. I got involved, asking her all sorts of things, until I realised that Scott and Ben were watching us.
I looked up.
‘Sorry,’ Scott smiled, ‘we’re not used to having female company. It’s nice.’
I smiled, flushing. ‘It’s nice to be here.’
‘I’m female, Dad,’ Lou pointed out and I laughed.
‘Yes, you are.’
‘It’s two against two now,’ she said, wagging her finger at them and we all laughed.
Ben insisted on washing up and he dragged Lou to help, making it easier, I suspected, for Scott to talk to me.
We stood on the back porch watching the distant shape of the river cling to the land, the air heavy with the perfume of jasmine and magnolias. There were wind chimes hanging from the porch and I guessed that Scott’s mother or ex-wife had hung them.
‘Thank you,’ he said quietly. ‘Tonight has been special.’
I was surprised that he was saying so much. ‘Oh, that’s okay…’
“Jacquie,’ he said, almost as if he didn’t hear what I said, ‘I’m not much with words, especially with women. I get tongue tied and I make a mess of it but I wanted to say… wanted to thank you…’
‘Scott,’ I said softly and he turned his face to me, his bright blue eyes wide and that cute half smile of his where the upper lip turned up a little, ‘I had a great time. It’s been ages since I cooked and you guys are an easy audience,’ I said with a laugh. ‘I could have served anything and you would have loved it. I had a really great time,’ I added and my heart started pounding. He’s going to kiss you, my mind screamed, look out, a guy is going to kiss you!
He didn’t, he smiled shyly and nodded. ‘It’s been fun for both of us then, that’s good.’ And I was vaguely disappointed.
I kissed Lou goodbye and was surprised when Ben hugged me. ‘Thanks, Jacquie,’ he murmured. ‘It’s been good to have a female influence around here again. I wish Sonia had been alive to see this. You would have liked her.’
‘I’m sure I would have,’ I said.
‘She was like you. Always insisted on music while we ate and we always had to sit down for supper. Thank you, it took me back.’
Scott walked me to my car. ‘Thanks again,’ I said, ‘for fixing the flat.’
‘Thank you for tonight, it was great.’ He shuffled in the dirt and then smiled. ‘I’ll see you around?’
‘Sure,’ I said, inwardly fuming. What does he mean, see me around! I drove off angry and then, remembering the night, their eyes when I placed the meal down, the fun with Lou and the tender goodbye from Ben, I had happy tears in my eyes as I drove down the main street of Indian Mask.
Brenda listened intently when I called her. ‘How do you feel about him?’
‘I don’t know,’ I wailed. ‘I’m confused.’
‘He sounds cute to me,’ she said and I knew she was smiling, ‘especially the way you describe his eyes.’
‘How’s everything?’ Eleanor asked a few weeks later as she poured coffee for me when I came back from the shower after my run.
‘Fine. You?’
‘Oh, I’m just peachy keen.’
I looked up; I knew her pretty well by now and could sense something. ‘What’s up?’
She put the pan down and looked down. ‘Carl told me he passed blood. It’s been happening for a while and the fool’s just told me.’
I immediately stood and hugged her. ‘Get him in to see me,’ I said.
‘Do you think I haven’t tried?’ she said stridently and I saw the tears forming.
‘I’m sorry,’ I said softly, ‘of course you’ve tried. Where is he?’
Eleanor looked at me puzzled. ‘Down at the store, working?’
‘Time I went to the store.’
She looked at me with hope. ‘Jacquie…’
‘I’m going, Eleanor, and you can’t stop me.’
Tears were in her eyes when she hugged me. ‘Thank you,’ she whispered in my ear.
‘Carl McIvor,’ I called out as I walked into the store and I could see people looking at me.
‘Hi, Doc,’ Carl said as he came forward, an anxious smile on his face.
‘Carl, if you won’t come to the doctor, I’ll have to come to you.’
His smile began to fade, conscious of everyone looking. ‘Now, look, Doc…’
‘No,’ I snapped, ‘you look! Eleanor is worried sick and so are you, if you would admit it! I’m going to examine you and you are going to let me. It’s here in the store, or at the surgery. What do you say?’
There were smiles on the faces of the people watching and Carl reluctantly nodded. ‘At the surgery.’
‘Good,’ I said sweetly, offering my arm, ‘then you’ll walk with me now?’
‘But…’
‘Or here?’
‘Guess I’ll walk with you, Doc,’ he said grumpily and I started him down the street. I know it was unorthodox and I could be penalised for my approach but aren’t people more important than rules?
It was chronic haemorrhoids and, although painful, it was a huge relief for both Carl and Eleanor.
Everyone, according to Eleanor, was talking about how I went down to the store and fronted him. Some were saying it was like a gunfight and I laughed at that. The women began to threaten their menfolk that if they wouldn’t go for a check up, they would ask me to come down to their work. Suddenly, I had a lot of male patients.
It was Friday, and I walked out to the waiting room to call in my last patient, Mrs Jacobson, when I saw Scott leaning against the wall, looking like he was waiting to fight a wild tiger.
‘Scott?’
‘Oh, hi, Jacquie,’ he said, shuffling, and I noticed Mrs Jacobson was grinning.
‘Do you want to go in, Mrs Jacobson?’ I asked pointedly but she just grinned.
‘I’ll wait here until you’re ready, Doctor.’
I glanced at Scott. ‘I’ll see you now, Mrs Jacobson. Will you wait?’ I asked Scott and he nodded, wiping his forehead.
Mrs Jacobson didn’t like it, but she followed me in. All the time I listened to her, I wondered what Scott was doing out there and if he would still be there when I came out.
Finally, I finished and showed her out. Scott was still there, sweating and smiling weakly.
‘Scott? Is everything okay?’ I asked, worried and Eleanor walked passed with a wink and then disappeared out the back.
‘Jacquie,’ he mumbled, ‘I’m not much good at this…’
‘Scott,’ I said firmly, really concerned now, ‘will you just say it? I’m really worried.’ Was it Lou, I worried, was she okay?
He took a deep breath and then said, ‘Jacquie, the country club has a dance the last Saturday night of the month, it’s tomorrow, and I was thinking, I was hoping, we could go or something, I know I should’ve asked you sooner but, I don’t know, I couldn’t…’ he finished lamely and his words struck right through me.
He’s asking you for a date! I looked up at him, saw him clearly, those bright blue eyes, that strange half grin he makes when he’s nervous, and those strong hands — oh! Those strong hands!
‘That sounds nice,’ I said with a smile. His face caved into huge relief.
‘Really? You want to come?’
‘Yes,’ I said, surprised at myself. ‘Yes, I do.’
‘Will I pick you up?’
‘Yes,’ I said suddenly, wondering where it came from. ‘Yes, what time?’
‘Seven thirty?’
‘I’ll be ready.’
His face broke into an incredible smile, and I wanted to laugh with him, to enjoy the moment, but didn’t think it was appropriate.
‘See you then,’ he said and I laughed when I saw him punch the air before he climbed into his pick-up.
‘I’m going on a date,’ I told Brenda. I had immediately telephoned her. ‘I’m petrified.’
‘You’ll have fun, Jacquie, it’s just a date.’
‘I suppose so,’ I said doubtfully.
‘What are you going to wear?’ Eleanor asked the next morning.
‘What…’
‘It’s all over town.’ She explained patiently. “He took ages to pluck up his courage, apparently Ben drove him in to make him ask you. I think it’s nice that he’s so nervous.’
‘So do I,’ I said softly and Eleanor grinned.
‘I know. So, what are you going to wear?’
‘I have no idea. Will you help me?’
‘I thought you would never ask,’ she said with glee and I laughed.
The doorbell rang and I started down the stairs, conscious of the short black dress I was wearing. ‘What are you doing?’ Eleanor hissed.
‘Answering the door?’
‘Will you wait here until I tell you?’ Eleanor shook her head. ‘Honestly, I don’t know what they teach girls up North.’
I heard her open the door, talk to Scott and show him into the sitting room.
Eleanor came up the stairs, smiled as she held me at arm’s length. ‘Okay,’ she said, ‘he’s waiting downstairs like nervous cat.’
‘Like me,’ I admitted.
Eleanor looked at me keenly. ‘You’ve never done this, have you?’ I dumbly shook my head. ‘I guess with all the hard work at medical school you never had the opportunity.’ She smiled and hugged me. ‘Just enjoy yourself, he’s a nice guy and he thinks the world of you.’
‘He does?’ I asked softly.
‘Oh yes,’ she smiled. ‘And you can tell that, can’t you?’
I nodded and hugged her. ‘Thanks Eleanor, thanks for everything.’
‘No,’ she said softly, squeezing me tightly against her, ‘thank you. We are so glad you were lost that day you drove into Indian Mask, believe me.’
I walked into the sitting room and Scott’s jaw dropped. ‘Wow,’ he managed to say.
‘Hello,’ I said sweetly, ‘sorry to keep you waiting.’
‘It was worth it,’ he said, flushing, and I looked at him.
‘Such a charming man.’ I murmured, taking his arm as we walked to the car.
Everyone turned to look at us as we walked into the country club. Ron rushed over spouting some vague rubbish and I smiled, looking around, conscious of the fact I was on a guy’s arm, and I liked it.
Scott led me to a table and we sat down while he nervously looked over the menu. ‘It’s been a while since I’ve been here,’ he said. ‘I think the steaks are good.’
Lisa, the waitress, was smiling when she arrived at the table and I had the feeling that everyone was talking about us. ‘Good evening Jacquie, Scott,’ Lisa said. ‘I can recommend the fish of the day and the steaks.’
‘The fish sounds wonderful,’ I said, handing her the menu and Scott ordered a steak.
‘Drinks?’ Lisa asked and Scott looked at me.
‘Could I have a glass of white wine?’
‘Of course, Scott, what about you?’
‘Beer thanks, Lisa.’
She smiled again and left. Scott looked around, fingers drumming nervously on the tablecloth. Every now and again, he would try to loosen his collar or fiddled with his tie, a tie that looked so old it was probably coming back into fashion.
Lisa brought the drinks and Scott almost dived on his. I looked around the restaurant and out the window that overlooked the golf course. ‘This is nice,’ I said, trying to start conversation. He nodded and sipped his beer so I sipped the wine. ‘That’s nice,’ I said putting the glass down and he nodded again. I smiled but I was seething with frustration. ‘How’s Lou?’
‘Good.’
I waited but he didn’t say anything else.
‘And Ben’s okay?’
He nodded and that was it.
Running out of patience, I leaned forward, looked him in the eye and said, ‘Scott, I’m not dangerous, I’m just a woman and not an alligator, I don’t bite! I’m as nervous as you as I don’t date that much. Please, can we forget about this date junk and just have a good time? For starters, can we have a conversation? It’s a little strange having a conversation with myself.’
Scott stared at me open mouthed and then smiled, a gentle easy smile that I watched form on the edges of his mouth and then invade his lips. ‘Okay.’ I raised an eyebrow and he quickly added, ‘I’d like that.’
‘Good,’ I smiled, sipping my wine, ‘why don’t you tell me about that boat you’re building?’
And away he went, and the more he spoke, the more he relaxed, and soon we were laughing as he described how the first boat he ever built sank like a stone.
‘How old were you?’
‘Fourteen. Dad laughed and laughed.’
‘He’s a nice man, I like him.’
Scott smiled at me. ‘He likes you. He made me ask you out.’
‘I’m glad he did,’ I said softly.
‘So am I.’
Lisa returned with the food and we continued to talk. The band started playing as Lisa cleared the table and couples began to move onto the floor to dance.
‘Would you like to dance?’ Scott asked.
I grimaced. ‘I’m not very good,’ I admitted. Not very good? I silently screamed. You’ve never danced, especially not with a man!
‘That’s okay,’ he said with a laugh, ‘I’m terrible.’
‘Okay, I’m up for it if you are.’
He took my hand and led me to the dance floor. The other couples dancing past smiled warmly at us as we slowly began to dance. Scott’s arms around me felt nice and I smelled his cologne, a musky masculine smell.
‘You’re doing great,’ he said softly, his lips brushing my hair as he spoke.
‘Thanks,’ I murmured, ‘you make it easy for me.’ Do you realise, my pesky silent voice asked, that you’re in high heels and dancing with a man? And you like it?
We returned to the table after a few dances and more people smiled at us as Scott led me through the tables from the dance floor. Some couples came up to our table, made polite conversation and the women always complimented me on the dress.
‘Very pretty,’ Rhoda Simpson said, looking at Scott, ‘don’t you think so, Scott?’
‘I think she’s beautiful,’ he said, obviously without thinking and then turned bright red.
Rhoda giggled and dragged her husband back onto the dance floor.
Scott insisted on walking me to my door and I wondered how many people were peeking from behind their curtains, watching us. I smiled at the thought and realised I didn’t care. ‘I had a wonderful time.’
‘You did?’ He said it with such relief that I laughed.
‘Yes, truly, and you can take that awful tie off now.’
He grinned and quickly removed it, stuffing it in his back pocket. ‘It’s the only one I’ve got.’
‘I would never have guessed,’ I said, raising an eyebrow, and he laughed again.
‘I like you, Jacquie,’ he said suddenly, ‘I know you’re a doctor and all, and I just build boats…’
‘But such beautiful boats,’ I smiled up at him. Look out, he’s going to kiss you!
‘But could we… I don’t know… do something some other time… I mean…’
‘Yes,’ I whispered, ‘I would love that.’ Hurry up, kiss me!
‘Really?’
‘Call me.’ His face hesitantly moved closer, his eyes blinked uncertainly, and for a moment I thought he was going to pull away so I slipped my arm on his shoulder and moved in, eyes closed.
He took the hint and kissed me. His lips were so warm and tender and that first kiss simply took my breath away.
Scott whistled softly as he held me, bright blue eyes staring down at me.
‘Wow,’ he murmured.
‘You can say that again,’ I said shakily.
‘Wow,’ he repeated, grinning and I laughed as I fumbled for my key.
‘Goodnight Scott.’
‘Goodnight Jacquie.’
Part 7 Brenda’s Visit
Brenda arrived the next day, planning on staying three days. We walked around the town and I introduced her to everyone who came up to us.
‘You’re really popular,’ Brenda said with a smile.
‘I suppose I’m the only doctor so…’
‘No,’ she said with a smile, ‘they really like you. Eleanor dotes on you.’
‘She is very nice.’
‘So, when do I meet Scott?’ Brenda asked with a teasing tone.
‘I don’t know,’ I said flushing. I had told her that he had kissed me and after she had quizzed me, I admitted I had been a more than willing accomplice.
We sat on a bench in the park, watching some children dancing around the bandstand and a young boy playing catch with his father. ‘This is a beautiful town,’ Brenda said. ‘I can see why you like it.’
I nodded dumbly. ‘Yes,’ I whispered.
Brenda looked closely at me. ‘It’s a bit of a shock, isn’t it?’
‘What?’
‘Realizing you actually enjoy being a woman.’ I was startled and she smiled. ‘I knew you were pretending back at the complex, Jacquie,’ she said quietly. ‘Don’t ask me how but I just knew. You were very good, but something wasn’t just right.’
‘Oh,’ I said in a small voice. ‘Why didn’t you stop me from leaving?’
She shrugged. ‘I hoped you would find yourself and I didn’t like the idea of Buchanan holding you prisoner. Now,’ she said smiling at me, ‘I can see the difference. You and the old Jacquie are like chalk and cheese. Surely you see that?’ I nodded. ‘And you like it, right?’
‘Yes,’ I whispered, ‘I like it.’
‘Good,’ Brenda said and hugged me. ‘Come on,’ she said pulling me to my feet. ‘Show me where we can get a coffee, Doc.’
I managed to laugh and we walked arm and arm to the diner.
‘Alice,’ I said with a smile, ‘this is Brenda, we’ve been best friends since I was born.’
Brenda smiled at me and then turned to Alice. ‘Please to meet you, Alice, Jacquie tells me you have great coffee.’
We were chatting over coffee when the door opened and Scott and Ben walked in. He saw me and grinned that grin. I smiled back and Brenda looked over, saw him, and smiled at me. ‘Is that him?’ she whispered.
‘Yes,’ I said happily. ‘He’s coming over.’ They both came over and stood by the table. ‘Scott, Ben, this is my friend Brenda Peters. Brenda, Scott and Ben Carson.’
‘Nice to meet you, Brenda,’ Ben said with a smile. ‘We heard Jacquie had a friend staying. Do you like the town?’
‘I love it,’ Brenda said.
‘Do you want to join us?’ I asked and Scott sat down quickly and Ben grinned.
‘Don’t mind if we do.’ They ordered coffee and donuts and we chatted casually. I was conscious of Scott looking at me and I flushed when I remembered his kiss.
‘When are you leaving, Brenda?’ Ben asked. Thank God someone was talking!
‘Unfortunately, tomorrow.’
‘Are you a doctor as well?’ Brenda nodded and I was glad she didn’t go into details. ‘Did you two meet in med school?’
‘Something like that,’ Brenda said, smiling into her coffee cup.
‘Well, you come back and next time we’ll take you out on the river.’
‘It’s a deal,’ Brenda grinned.
Brenda and I walked slowly back to the surgery.
‘He’s very cute,’ Brenda said at last. ‘If I didn’t know better, I’d say you two were head over heels with each other.’
‘What! Don’t be stupid!’
‘I could be wrong,’ Brenda said with that annoying smile she gets when she thinks she’s right. ‘Lucky Ben and I were there, otherwise you two would have just sat there staring into each other’s eyes.’
I stopped and shakily put a hand to my forehead. My stomach was churning and I felt my eyes begin to fill.
‘Brenda,’ I whisper, ‘what’s wrong with me? What’s going on?’
She was immediately concerned and hugged me. ‘Nothing’s wrong with you, Jacquie,’ she murmured, ‘it’s alright, I hope it’s perfect for you. I think you’re falling in love. You’ve never been in love, have you?’
Dumbly, I shook my head.
'Well, you’re in for the ride of your life,’ Brenda smiled.
We walked slowly towards the surgery and I took a deep breath to steady myself and smiled weakly. ‘I hope I don’t fall off,’ I murmured and Brenda giggled.
Susan Munroe’s little boy cut his leg in a bicycle accident and she brought him. ‘Is it serious, Jacquie?’ Susan asked anxiously. She was eight months pregnant and was moving awkwardly.
‘I’m sure it looks worse than it is. How did you do this, Tommy?’ I asked as I began to clean the wound.
‘I wasn’t looking where I was going, I guess,’ he mumbled.
‘Watching pretty girls, more like it,’ I said with a wink at Susan.
Tommy blushed. ‘Girls? No way!’
‘Sure,’ I said, smiling at Susan. ‘This is fine, should be right as rain in no time at all.’
She sighed with relief. ‘Thank heaven. Thanks, Jacquie.’
‘How are you feeling?’
Susan rolled her eyes. ‘Oh, you know, I just wish she’d get here.’
‘My first baby in Indian Mask,’ I smiled
Brenda and Eleanor were seated at the kitchen table when I walked in and I could tell they had been talking about me. ‘I feel my ears burning,’ I said as I poured some coffee.
‘Eleanor was just telling me about Scott,’ Brenda said, smiling.
Eleanor got up and bustled over to the sink.
‘Don’t look at me like that, Jacquie,’ she said. ‘Brenda mentioned she met Ben and Scott, so I gave her some details, that’s all.’
‘Is that right?’ I looked suspiciously at Brenda, who smiled innocently.
The next morning we loaded Brenda’s bags into her car. ‘Brenda,’ I began after Eleanor had said goodbye and walked back inside, ‘I was pretending back at the complex, but I was fooling myself most of all.’
‘I know, Jacquie, but it doesn’t matter.’
‘I wasn’t pretending about being your friend,’ I said and hugged her. ‘You know that, don’t you?’
‘Of course and, Jacquie,’ she said seriously, ‘you’re not a patient to me, you’re my friend, okay?’
I nodded and we embraced for the final time. ‘Come back, please,’ I said, ‘when you get a chance.’
‘I’ll come back for the wedding,’ she said cheekily, and I couldn’t help but grin and waved goodbye.
Part 8 Decisions
Scott did call, and he asked if I’d like to go for a drive in the country on Saturday.
‘I’d love to, I’ll make a picnic.’
‘Okay,’ he said. ‘Lou and I swim in a fresh stream we know, so bring your swimsuit.’
The only swimsuit I had was a dark blue one-piece I had used to swim laps in the complex pool. I was self conscious in it then, and I wondered how I would get the nerve to wear it in front of Scott.
I borrowed a cane picnic basket from Eleanor and worked Friday night to make a picnic of cold chicken, salads, breads and fruit. I even baked a pie. Eleanor supplied a few bottles of her homemade lemonade and I put them into the refrigerator until Saturday morning.
After trying on several different outfits, I decided on a white cotton sleeveless shirt and a denim skirt over my swimsuit with comfortable sandals. I tossed a straw hat in the car and loaded the basket. My calls were redirected to the county hospital, so I was free for the day.
As I drove out to Scott’s house, I tried to reconcile the feelings I had with my life and what I had thought was my goal. It was unspoken, even to myself, but I didn’t want to leave Indian Mask and I certainly did not wish to be a man again. Again! That word reverberated within me, as I had extreme difficulty remembering what it was like to be a man.
‘Hi, Jacquie,’ Ben said as he walked over to my car.
‘How are you, Ben?’
‘Fit and dangerous,’ he winked and I laughed. ‘I’m heading off to talk to some potential customers, try to sell some boats, enjoy the day.’
‘You’re not coming with us?’
He stopped, smiled slowly, and I saw where Scott’s smile came from. ‘No, but thanks for asking, Jacquie.’ He winked. ‘If I’m not there, Scott might just have to talk, hey?’
I grinned. ‘You think?’
‘I hope so,’ he said seriously and I watched him drive away, wondering, until Lou ran out.
‘Hi, Jacquie, Dad’s coming.’
‘Good,’ I smiled. Scott walked out, that slow sensual walk that I found fascinating and of which, I knew, he had no idea of the impact. Dressed in an open necked shirt, tight faded jeans and sneakers, he looked so rugged I wanted to squeeze him tight, just feel him.
‘Hi,’ I said and he stopped, his eyes traveling up and down me and I felt good, smiled a little more and moved a little bit.
‘Hi there,’ he murmured, eyes roaming over me still, taking me in.
‘Lou,’ I said brightly, ‘help me with the picnic.’
We brought the picnic basket over to Scott’s pick-up. ‘How much food is in that?’
‘You’ll have to wait,’ I said with a wink and we clambered into the pick-up, Lou between us as we drove.
Lou put the radio on and soon Lou and I were singing along with an old Dolly Parton song, Scott watching us with a half-smile.
‘What?’ I said to him when the song ended.
He smiled and shook his head, one arm resting on the doorframe. ‘Nothing. I guess I’m just enjoying it, that’s all.’
The stream was high up and ice cold but crystal clear, river rocks piled high and lazy birds circling high above us.
‘I’m going in,’ shouted Lou, tearing her shorts and tee shirt off, running into the clear water in her swimsuit. ‘Come on, Jacquie!’
I glanced at Scott and shrugged, pulling my top off and stepping out of my skirt. I waved at Lou, splashing in the water but I could feel his eyes on me. God help me, I posed a little while I pretended to watch Lou, let him look a little, and then smiled shyly at him before running into the stream.
Scott was pulling his clothes off in a hurry as Lou and I splashed each other, giggling like mad, and he arrived panting and smiling in swim shorts. I looked him up and down, smiling, and he smiled back.
Lou and I dived in, the water cold and sharp and I came up shaking my hair as Scott’s arms encircled me. His skin was so hot against mine and I moved against him. Suddenly, I felt his hardness and instead of being appalled, I smiled, pleased with myself.
We swam and played games for an hour or so and then walked out of the water. I held Lou’s hand in one hand and Scott’s in the other.
‘Let’s eat,’ I announced and Lou clapped her hands. Soon we had the blanket spread, the plates and the food arranged, and were settled back comfortably.
‘This is great,’ Scott murmured, chewing on a chicken leg, and I smiled.
‘Apple pie?’ I asked Lou and she nodded, eyes wide.
Later, we were leaning back, comfortable and full, and a little tired. Maybe relaxed was a better description. Lou had finally given up swimming and was lying on the blanket, her head in my lap and her feet across her father’s legs.
I didn’t know it was possible to experience happiness like this.
‘Is she asleep?’ Scott asked softly and I looked down, my fingers in Lou’s hair.
‘I think so.’
‘She just wears herself out.’
‘All that energy has to go sooner or later. She’s a great kid, Scott, but I guess you know that.’
‘She likes you a lot.’ I opened my mouth but he surprised me and kept talking. ‘I like you a lot,’ he said simply and he took my hand, just swallowed mine in his big fist and squeezed gently.
‘That’s good,’ I murmured, falling into those blue eyes, ‘because I like you.’
He leaned over and kissed me, and it was just like the kiss goodnight, it sent shivers of hot vibrations through me. I sighed and rested my head on his shoulder. Life couldn’t be better than this.
The three months were almost up and I wondered what I was going to do. I hadn’t spoken to Ron and I had no idea if the council had found another doctor or not. Did I want to leave, I asked myself, did I want to go work at a hospital? I no longer was interested in the research; I had lost all interest in becoming male. In fact, the idea of being male was now incredibly alien to me.
I found Ron in the diner drinking coffee with Sheriff Hopkins and sat down at their table. They both greeted me and I cut straight to the chase. ‘Have you found a doctor, Ron?’
He glanced at John and suddenly seemed nervous. ‘We’ve been looking, Jacquie, honestly.’
‘We have,’ John chimed in. ‘We even interviewed a guy last month but he didn’t measure up.’
‘Measure up to what?’ I asked, puzzled.
‘To you,’ John said sheepishly. ‘We’ve been comparing them to you.’
‘Oh,’ I said, blushing. ‘I see.’
‘Could you see your way clear to stay another month?’ Ron asked anxiously and I shook my head.
‘No,’ I said slowly, ‘I don’t think a month’s possible.’
‘Oh,’ John said regretfully, ‘we understand. It’s been great having you here and we’re going to miss you…’
‘More like twelve months,’ I said and they gaped at me in surprise and I laughed. ‘You win, Ron, you got me to love this town.’
‘Just the town?’ John shrewdly asked but I ignored him.
‘Let’s make a proper contract if you’ll have me.’
‘Have you?’ Ron said grinning widely, ‘you’re kidding, right?’
I told Eleanor and she danced me around the reception area, hugging and kissing me.
‘Ron wants to keep it a secret until the council approves it,’ I warned.
‘A secret,’ she said scornfully, ‘in this town?’
The next evening I was finishing up when I heard the telephone ring. Eleanor came in. ‘Get your bag, there’s a problem at the school gymnasium.’
I hurried out to the car and was surprised to see Eleanor right behind me. ‘You might need help,’ she said defensively and I shrugged. I should have suspected something right there and then but I was too focused on getting to the gym, wondering how many were hurt, and if Lou one of them?
I pulled up, flung open the car door and ran up the steps to the big double doors of the gymnasium, Eleanor panting behind me.
Pushing the doors open, the gym exploded into light and I saw it was filled with grinning people who chanted ‘Surprise! Surprise!’
I looked around and saw the big banner, draped over the stage. ‘Welcome, Doctor Jacquie’. Ron stepped forward, smiling. ‘Sorry to fool you, Jacquie,’ he said as everyone grew quiet, ‘but we wanted to celebrate your decision to stay with us, and to officially welcome you.’
‘Oh,’ I said, looking around and recognizing mostly everyone. Even the children were there, hanging from the seats at the far end of the gym. ‘I don’t know what to say,’ I murmured just as I saw Scott and Lou standing by one of the side doors.
I knew tears were trickling down my face, and Eleanor smiled and hugged me, followed by Rhoda, Alice and a host of others.
A cake was cut, drinks passed around and Ron ceremoniously presented me with the contract.
Scott and Lou came up to me. ‘Congratulations,’ he said with his slow smile.
‘I’m afraid you have to put up with me for another year,’ I said brightly, wiping my eyes with a tissue.
‘I’m glad,’ Lou said happily.
‘So am I,’ Scott said and I looked up at him and smiled.
Then, in front of everyone, he put his arms around me and kissed me.
There were murmurs in the crowd and I heard Lou say delightedly, ‘Yahoo!’
But I didn’t care. I was too busy kissing him back.
Part 9 Ten Years On
‘Scott, I don’t really want to go to the country club.’
Even though I was dressed, I was still trying to get out of another function. We seemed to be going to so many lately now that Scott was Mayor. Of course, I supported him but I was seven months pregnant and this pregnancy was not as easy as the others. All I wanted to do was collapse on the sofa and read.
Scott smiled and gently kissed me. ‘We have to, honey, you know we do. Lou’s gone on ahead and Dad’s taking the boys. We’ll just make an appearance and then go, okay?’
‘Promise?’
‘We’ll go home when you want to, okay?’
I waddled out to the car, slid in, and Scott backed the car down the drive. We lived in town in a large rambling house that I loved. The boat business had suddenly exploded and the old house by the river was now the office for the boatyard, which now employed thirty-five people.
Ben had retired and we insisted he live with us. It was great having him around, and good for Sam and Matt as he was always there when they came home from school.
‘There’s a lot of cars here,’ I said as we drove into the country club parking lot. ‘What’s this function again, honey?’
‘Council business,’ Scott said, ‘I told you.’ He opened the door for me and took my arm. ‘Before we go inside,’ he said with a smile, ‘I want you to know I love you.’
‘I love you, sweetie,’ I said, and we kissed.
The country club was quiet and I wondered where the people from all those cars were. Scott steered me into the restaurant and suddenly the room was alive with people, jumping and calling out, ‘Surprise! Surprise!’
‘Oh, no,’ I groaned, burying my face in Scott’s shoulder, ‘not again!’
He gently turned me around and I saw the banner. ‘Congratulations Doctor Jacquie, Ten Years in Indian Mask’
I waggled my finger at him. ‘You horrible man,’ I said and he grinned. ‘You could have told me.’
‘I’m the Mayor, honey, I had to keep it a secret.’
Scott led me to a long table and I was surprised to see Brenda and her husband Bob seated at it, along with Ben, Lou and my two sons, Sam and Matt with Eleanor and Carl.
‘Congratulations,’ Brenda said, kissing my cheek as she embraced me. ‘Who’d have thought, huh?’
‘Yeah,’ I said wryly, ‘who would have?’
Scott helped me into my chair and then he walked over to the microphone.
Ben leaned over with a wink. ‘Remember the good old days, Jacquie, when Scott wouldn’t say anything? Now we can’t shut him up.’ Sam and Matt giggled at that and I had to smile.
Lou leaned over and held my hand. ‘You okay, Mom?’
I nodded and rummaged in my bag for tissues. I had a feeling I was going to need them.
‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ Scott began, ‘I’m not going to talk for long…’
‘That’d be a change!’ John Hopkins called out and everyone laughed.
‘That’ll be enough out of you, John Hopkins, or I’m going to have to get the new sheriff to lock you up.’ Everyone laughed and John grinned. He had been retired for three years and the replacement, as everyone knew, was his son-in-law. ‘Seriously, folks, we’re here to celebrate Jacquie’s ten years of unswerving dedication to our community.’ I flinched at ‘unswerving’ but everyone applauded. ‘And we’re going to get everyone to reminisce, so I’ll hand over to our MC for tonight, Louise Carson.’
Lou winked and took a radio microphone from one of the staff and stood in the center of the room.
‘I remember when I first met Mom. I was lying in a smashed car with a broken arm and bleeding all over the place. I was eight and very scared when suddenly this calm face appeared and began to put things right. For a minute, I thought I had died and she was an angel.’
I groaned at that and buried my head in my hands while people laughed.
‘Let’s get some more memories. Eleanor,’ Lou said, holding the portable microphone to Eleanor, ‘do you remember when you first met Doctor Carson?’
‘I sure do. This feisty young woman came in with you and your dad after the accident and told me she was a doctor.’
‘You didn’t believe her, did you?’
‘No, she didn’t look old enough but she soon proved she was a doctor and a good one. She’s also a dear friend to me and I think she’s wonderful.’
I tried to smile back at Eleanor but the tears began to roll down my cheeks as Lou moved around the audience, getting comments. Scott sat beside me and hugged me. ‘I’ll get you for this,’ I muttered.
‘Promise?’ He smiled and I poked him in the ribs.
‘Ron,’ Lou said, ‘you convinced Mom to stay?’
‘Me? No, I think she fell in love…’ he paused and there were a few giggles, ‘with the town!’ Everyone laughed. ‘And she’s done everything she can to increase the population of Indian Mask.’
Everyone roared at that and I smiled to myself. Little do they know, I thought, patting my stomach.
‘Do you remember an incident, Susan?’ Lou asked, moving on.
‘Tommy had an asthma attack late at night. I was on my own and I called Jacquie. She arrived in less than ten minutes, still in her nightdress and slippers, just an old overcoat and slippers on, and she was pregnant with Sam at the time. Jacquie was so calm and she stayed with us for hours until everything was under control. I’ll never forget the relief I felt when her car pulled up. Thanks, Jacquie.’
It went on. Rhoda, Jim, Carl, even Ben had a little something to say. ‘I couldn’t imagine Indian Mask without her,’ he said simply and sat down to wild applause.
Lou took the microphone back and I was surprised to see her eyes were filling.
‘I’m lucky because I’ve lived with her for so long and learned so much. I tried to think of her qualities that I could list but I decided on just one. She loves. That’s it,’ she smiled through her tears. ‘She loves her family, she loves you people and she never asks for anything in return, she just gives and gives. Thanks, Mom, from all of us. Now it’s your turn.’
I managed to stand and Lou grinned. ‘Be careful of my little sister, Mom.’
I took the microphone and she kissed my cheek.
‘I love you, Mom.’ She meant to say it quietly but the microphone picked it up.
‘I love you, honey,’ I said and everyone was smiling. ‘Well,’ I said looking around at my friends and family, ‘I really don’t know what to say. You have given me so much, I feel I’m the luckiest woman in the world.’
Brenda grinned at me and I smiled at her.
‘I have news for you, Louise,’ I said and Lou groaned and rolled her eyes.
‘I know I’m in trouble when she calls me Louise!’
Everyone laughed.
‘It’s not your little sister in here,’ I said, smiling as I patted my belly, ‘it’s your little sisters!’
Lou exclaimed excitedly, ‘Twins? I don’t believe it!’
‘Neither do I,’ groaned Scott.
‘See what I mean? She’s a one woman population explosion.’ Ron called out and the laughter continued.
I looked around the room. Everyone was getting older, myself included, but life was wonderful.
‘Thank you,’ I said quietly, ‘thank you for everything.’
I handed the microphone back and everyone stood to applaud.
I leaned down to softly kiss Scott. ‘I’m ready to go home now,’ I murmured.
He smiled. ‘You have to wait for the cake.’
‘Okay,’ I said softly, ‘I love you.’
That grin of his that I loved so much crept up and ambushed his face.
‘I love you,’ he said simply. ‘Everyone loves you.’
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