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No matter how hard I try
You keep pushing me aside
And I can't break through
There's no talking to you

Believe / Cher

Previously…

‘Miss Silverton–it must be one of her cats, I thought.

'Okay, Tammy, you can stay the night because it’s too late to ring your mummy, but tomorrow, I’ll ring her, just in case she’s worried. Okay?’

I could swear she nodded, but it might have been my imagination. I went to the bathroom, grabbed a towel and dried off Tammy, she wasn’t too wet so I assumed that she had been under some sort of shelter during the worst of the storm.

I switched the light off and Tammy settled down. I went to sleep to the sound of purring coming from my new friend.

And now the story continues…

I woke up to a rasping lick on the nose and a purr that sounded like a car engine close to my ear.

Opening my eyes, I saw two big green eyes staring at me.

‘Morning, Tammy, darling,’ I said, yawning and sitting up.

Immediately she went to the end of the bed and attacked my toes under the cover. Whether she thought that it was a mouse, I would never know.

‘Stop that, right now.’ I said in a voice that should have terrified her, but only made her purr louder and swish her tail, suggestively.

Glancing at the clock on the bedside table, I saw it was half past eight–‘Another lie-in; I could get used to this, must be all this sea air.’

Ignoring the fact that Tammy wanted to play some more and being stony-hearted, I picked up my new ’phone and dialed the number that I had seen on the little minx’s collar.

It rang for a short time and there was no answer. Just as I was about to put the ’phone down I heard, ‘Hello?’

‘Miss Silverton?’

‘Yes.’

‘Hello, you don’t know me, I’m Samantha Smart–’

‘–Oh yes, the new girl.’ She made it sound as if I was attending a new school for the first time.

‘Erm, yes. Anyway, I have one of your pussies here–Tammy–she came in somehow when the storm was raging last night.’

‘She would, she doesn’t like rain of any sort. I’m not surprised that she came to your cottage, she likes it there.’

‘Why?’

‘Well, old Albert used to feed her scraps and she’s very fond of scraps.’

I laughed.

‘Well, what do you want me to do with her?’

‘Oh, just let her out. She knows this village better than I do. She’ll find her own way home. Mind you, if she likes you, she’ll probably be a regular visitor.’

‘Oh I don’t mind, I love cats.’

‘You shouldn’t have said that.’

‘Why.’

‘I look after lots of waifs and strays and I just happen to have a litter of kittens here, longing to find a deserving new home.’

I’d better explain that Olivia didn’t like pets; she insisted they would tie us down. I love animals and wanted to at least have a couple of cats and the obligatory lab, just for balance.

‘I’ll take two,’ I said without thinking.

‘You haven’t seen them yet,’ she laughed. ‘Look, if you’re free today, come up for a cuppa and a cat inspection.’

‘Later on this morning I will be. I have a few things to do first, would sometime between ten and eleven be okay?’

‘That will be fine. Do you know where I live?’

‘Yes, Mrs Gotobed pointed out your cottage to me.’

‘Okay, see you later; ’bye.’

‘Bye.’ I pressed the stop button on the ’phone. ‘She seems nice. I like her voice–warm and friendly.’

I got up. Tammy, after chasing her tail around the bed several times, had either become giddy or had exhausted herself. She lay down again with her tummy in the air.

‘You might be okay lying there, but this girl has things to do.’

I had a quick shower, somehow managing to keep my hair dry; then returning to the bedroom, I found that Tammy had disappeared. I went to the window and looking out I could see that it was going to be a hot, hot, hot day. Already, there was a bit of a heat haze.

I selected a pretty, white halter dress to wear–one of the new ones that I had bought on my little shopping spree–and laid it on my bed. I know I should have removed my breast forms, but decided, as they felt okay, to take them off when I went to bed tonight.

I took out a white satin strapless bra and matching panties to go with the dress and put them on the bed too. Removing my robe, I put on the panties and bra and quickly applied some makeup; nothing fancy, just enough to fill up the nooks and crannies and some pink lippy to finish things off.

I put my robe back on to go downstairs for breakfast. My dress, being white, would be a magnet for any breakfast that I might inadvertently spill on myself if a certain little cat started causing mayhem around me.

Tammy was in the kitchen trying to catch a spider that had just scuttled under a skirting board. I could have told her that the spider would not be stupid enough to come out again while she was there, but you know kids, they never listen to you, so what was the point.

I opened the back door and the gentle breeze cooled things down a bit. Tammy, noticing that the door was open, took one look at me, meowed goodbye and shot out.

‘Bye, Tammy, come and visit me again,’ I said as I put some bread in the toaster.

After breakfast, I went back upstairs, cleaned my teeth and refreshed my lippy. Then I put my dress on and brushed my hair. Finally, after slipping on my white sandals, I was ready for the world.

Quickly, I checked that all the windows were closed and then left via the back door.

As I strolled down towards the harbour, I breathed in the fresh sea air. It hadn’t got oppressively hot yet and hoped it wouldn’t with the gentle sea breezes. The first call of the day was the surgery, then I would pop in and see Katie about the divorce, then I would have a wander up and down the quay, perhaps even dip my toes in the water, who knows, the time was mine and I relished the thought of not clock watching too much.

It seemed odd to me, that even after last night’s terrible and violent storm, there was no sign of damage and only a few puddles scattered here and there by way of evidence. The surgery was at the end of the High Street; as I passed the shops, they were just opening. I nodded and said, ‘hello,’ to several people and shopkeepers; everybody was so friendly and nice. I did like living here.

The surgery was in an old Georgian house that sat back a bit from the road.

I went up three steps, through the door and into the reception area. There were several people sitting on chairs reading magazines, obviously waiting their turn for one of the doctors. In the corner was a mother with a couple of young children who were reading comics and looking extremely bored–at least they weren’t screaming and bawling, though that would probably change soon, as they were starting to pinch each other on the arm.

On the wall were two plaques: one saying Dr Brian Sinclair and the other, Dr Marcia Sinclair. Both names had a string of letters after them and looked rather impressive. I approached the reception desk; there was a lady behind the counter bashing on a computer keyboard. She ignored me. She was about 50 and scrawny with short brown hair, thin lips and looked a bit shrewish–not that I like to make instant judgments. She didn’t seem to be the sort of woman that liked to smile.

I waited a few moments and the coughed gently.

She ignored me.

I coughed again–a little less gently.

She bashed the enter key and I was a bit surprised that the keyboard stayed in one piece.

Looking up she stared at me and said, ‘Yes?’

‘I would like to sign up please.’

‘Who for?’

‘Pardon.’

‘Which doctor?’

‘Marcia, please.’

‘That’s Doctor Marcia Sinclair to you.’

‘Okay, I would like to sign up for Doctor Marcia Sinclair please.’

‘Fill this in.’ She pushed over a form.

‘Have you got a pen, please.’

‘Yes, I have a pen,’, she replied cantankerously.

‘Can I borrow it please?’

‘You can, but whether you may is another matter.’

‘May I borrow it please?’ I asked, feeling like a naughty schoolgirl called in front of the headmistress.

She tut-tutted and then passed me a biro that had been bitten and chewed at the end. I moved to the side and filled in the details. In the mean time the receptionist who, unbelievably, was called Candice according to the badge on her inadequate bosom, carried on banging away at the keyboard.

She made me jump when she yelled, ‘Molly Taylor to Doctor Marcia.’

A woman got up, approached a door rather timidly, knocked and entered. I finished filling in the form and stood in front of Candice.

I coughed again and she ignored me again.

‘Excuse me?’

She looked up.

‘Yes?’

‘I’ve filled out the form.’

She sighed and then picked it up,

‘That seems in order.’

She then stuck it in a tray and went back to her typing.

I was getting a bit annoyed now. Here was I living in a place where everyone was nice to me and now I had this this person who seemed to have the communication skills of a slug–a retarded slug at that.

‘Excuse me,’ I said through slightly gritted teeth.

‘What now?’

‘I would like to make an appointment to see the doctor.’

‘What’s wrong with you?’

‘I am not willing to discuss that with you or in front of a waiting room full of people.’

‘You have to ring in at nine o’clock in the morning; first come first served.’

‘And if I was dying or in pain or couldn’t leave my cottage?’

‘Ring 999.’

‘What?’

‘It’s quicker.’ She carried on bashing the keyboard, as far as she was concerned the conversation was over.

I stared at her: my dander was now well and truly up. This wasn’t the old me she was talking to, it was Samantha Smart–new woman and nobody’s doormat.

‘Candice?’ I said rather louder than previously.

She looked up.

‘Still here?’

‘Yes, and if you don’t pay attention and stop assaulting that damned keyboard while I’m speaking, I will ram it up somewhere where the sun doesn’t shine. Let me say this and I will keep it simple. First, I don’t appreciate being spoken to like I’m something unpleasant you have stepped on. Secondly, I wish to be a private patient and as I know Brian personally, I do not think he would be happy about the way you speak to prospective patients, either private or national health, and thirdly, if–and I say if advisedly, I do become a patient here, you had better speak to me civilly or you will discover that I am not a person to cross. Am I making myself clear to you?’

I thought I had said it fairly quietly as I didn’t want to make too much of a scene in public, but I think everyone present heard my every word because there was a spontaneous round of applause.

I smiled sweetly and said to her. ‘Now MAY I have an appointment with Doctor Marcia?’

For some reason, she looked a bit sick and pasty. Perhaps she was coming down with swine ’flu–or maybe dry rot?

She stared at the screen, moved her mouse around and said, ‘Would eleven-thirty tomorrow suit you, Miss?’

‘That will be fine, thank you. Good day to you.’

I turned and walked out, looking to neither left nor right as I did not want to see anyone’s expression. I crossed the road to a tea shop that had just opened, sat down in the window and ordered a restorative cuppa.

My hands were shaking. It wasn’t like me to be so forceful–I was meek and mild, someone who Olivia was able to bend to her will, or I thought I was. As I sipped the hot sweet tea, I hoped that I wasn’t going the other way, from meek and mild to some sort of Lady Fairbairn clone, wielding a lethal handbag and scything everyone down in my path…

Shuddering at the thought, I just sat there trying to calm myself down and collect my thoughts. I took my ’phone out of my handbag and speed dialed a number.

‘Hello, Katie? It’s Samantha, are you free, I just want a quick word and to let you have some papers.’

‘Yes, give me fifteen minutes: I’ll be free to see you then. ’Bye.’

After finishing my cuppa, I headed for Katie’s office and went in, saying hello to the receptionist.

‘She won’t be a minute, Miss Smart, she’s on the ’phone to a client. Would you like to take a seat?’

Suddenly I felt tempted to ask her where she would like me to take it, but I sat down and tried to avoid gazing at the severe portraits hanging on the wall; I could swear they were all staring at me.

A few minutes later, I was ushered into Katie’s office. She stood up and came to me as I entered. A quick hug and a peck on the cheek and we went to the comfy sofa and sat down.

‘I’m glad you’ve come in, I have received some correspondence from your wife’s father. First of all what have you got for me?’

I handed her copies of the emails that Olivia and Nigel had sent me.*

‘Mmm, that kind of confirms what I thought. Read this.’ She handed me a letter. It was from Nigel.

Dear Madam,

Further to your letter of the 20th inst I can confirm that as yet we are not convinced that Tom wishes to have a divorce. Be assured though, that if the case does arise where this matter goes to court, your client would not benefit from the exposure or indeed financially.

Please be advised that we have at our disposal a formidable legal team and I am not in the habit of losing.

You may be well advised to counsel your client to come to his senses and settle this matter amicably.

Yours etc.,

Nigel Manning

‘Mmm.’ I said, ‘Short and sweet.’

‘Yes, a right little charmer, isn’t he? Well, looking at these emails, it looks like they don’t want to go through a divorce. Are you still minded too?’

‘Oh yes. I want to be free again.’

‘Very well, I will make a suitable response on your behalf. I would suggest you email them back and say that you will not be responding to any more emails, letters or phone calls and that you have instructed me to deal with this matter on your behalf.’

‘I’ll do that and after sending the emails, I’ll close that email account and get a new one.’

‘Yes, that’s an excellent idea. I’ve instructed the private investigator and she should be sending a prelim. report in the next few days. I’ll let you know when it arrives. There's something going on there, I can feel it in my water. Now, changing the subject, how are things going with you?’

‘Well, apart from alienating the doctors’ receptionist, okay, I suppose.’

‘You didn’t have a go at our lovely Candice, did you?’

‘Erm, sort of.’

‘Tell me all?’

For some reason, Katie was grinning from ear to ear as I told her about my run in with the Receptionist From Hell.

‘Blimey, girl, you fair went in with both feet there, didn’t you? Well she needs taking down a peg or two. I swear the doctors are scared stiff of her.’

‘Well, I’m not proud of what I did. It’s not like me really, to be like that.’

‘Stress, love, it comes out in strange ways. Get over it. She’s dished out some nasty comments over the years it’s brilliant that she gets it back sometimes. Anyway, I’ve gotta go and see a man about a horse so I’ll have to dash. Fancy a drink at lunch time down the Toad and Tart?’

‘Great; about one, okay?’

‘Yup, see you soon.’

I went out into the bright sunshine. My mood had lightened considerably. I was glad Katie was on my side and that things on the “Olivia-front” were starting to move in the right direction.

As I returned up the lane towards Miss Silverton’s cottage, I wondered what she was like. She had grown up as a boy until it was discovered that she was intersexed? Maybe we had something in common? I was about to find out.
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* See Changes~17

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To Be Continued...

Please leave comments...thanks! ~Sue

My thanks go to the brilliant and lovely Gabi for editing and pulling the story into shape.