Chapter 48
By Susan Brown
When you’re weary, feeling small,
When tears are in your eyes, I will dry them all;
Im on your side. when times get rough
And friends just cant be found,
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will lay me down.
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will lay me down.Paul Simon
Previously…
She got up to go.
‘La–Dotty?’
‘Yes?’ she said turning back and raising an aristocratic eyebrow.
‘I think that you are very sweet.’
She smiled then and looked fifteen years younger.
‘Don’t tell that to young Sarah, she’ll take more advantage of me if you do.’
‘You wouldn’t sack her would you?’
‘I might, but as I adopted her she would still hang around making a nuisance of herself. Now get some sleep or I’ll send her up to pester you.’
‘Why is she your maid?’
She looked at me strangely.
‘She wouldn’t come unless she had something worthwhile to do and anyway, it keeps her out of mischief. Any more questions or can I go? I’ve had the sights fixed on me Purdey and I need to get some shootin’ practice on those damn’ moles.’
‘Okay, Dotty and thanks, I think you’re a real sweetie.’
‘Enough of that nonsense, gel, I’ll see you at Tea.’
With that she stalked out, leaving me with a rather pleasant feeling that I never expected to have.
And now the story continues…
Later that afternoon, I was feeling much better, so I got up out of that wonderful bed and steadied myself against the bed post. There was a silk dressing gown on the back of the bedroom door. I tottered across and, rather unsteadily, put it on. Jenkins had told me earlier that m’lady did not expect me to get dressed until tomorrow unless I really felt like it.
I visited the bathroom and did the necessary; after washing my hands I discovered a hair brush on the side, together with a number of items, obviously for the use of guests, such as toothbrushes, flannels, toiletries and other necessities.
The state of my hair made me look as if I had been dragged through a hedge backwards so, using the brush, I brushed out the tangles and then worked at it until it shone. Not having any makeup with me, my face looked rather pale. Shrugging my shoulders, I could do nothing about it, so I continued with my pale Victorian look. After finishing in the bathroom, I discovered some rather vivid pink bedroom slippers by the bed. I was very impressed with the efficiency of it all and as I slipped them on my feet I found that they fitted me perfectly.
After taking a few deep breaths, I made my way downstairs. I couldn’t recognise this part of the house and promptly got lost. Luckily a footman–or a person who appeared to be a footman–was coming round the corner and stopped in front of me.
“Hello, Miss, may I be of assistance?”
“Yes please, I’m trying to find my way to tea, wherever that’s going to happen.”
“I’ll show you, Miss; if you would like to follow me?”
We went down several corridors, meeting the occasional member of staff, each of whom nodded to me as I passed by with my long-legged footman. Eventually, he opened a door, very much like all the others, and motioned for me to enter.
Lady Fairbairn was sitting by the fire with Fifi at her feet. The fireplace, which had huge logs laid in it, was unlit, but still looked rather cosy. Lady Fairbairn looked up and smiled pleasantly as I approached. She didn’t seem quite the ogress when she looked like that.
“Ah, Samantha, you’ve found us then?”
“Yes, m’lady.”
“What did I tell you, gel, call me Dotty. How’re you feelin’ then?’
“Not too bad, a bit weak and weary and my heart’s banging away, but other than that–all right.”
“Glad to hear it. Gave Jenkins a funny turn, seein’ you swoon away like that.”
I sat on a chair opposite her and arranged my clothes so they were not bunched up under me. It was pleasant sitting there. Dotty was reading the Horse and Hound and that left me to my thoughts. I had received a voice mail from Abby earlier, whist luxuriating in that wonderful soft bed.
‘Hi honey, hope you are better. I have spoken to Katie who has sent the details of Nigel’s latest effort to the private dicks. Word is that Nigel is in serious trouble with the Inland Revenue all of a sudden. I feel all sulky as I have been advised not to see you tonight as anyone following me might lead them to you. I’ll try and sneak up to you tomorrow, if I can. I want to make mad passionate love to you, but will have to use ‘other devices’ tonight! Anyway, I had better go now, I’ll see you tomorrow if I can get up to see you. Stay where you are love, I think that you are safer where you are and I don’t think that Lady Fairbairn would ever let anyone harm you. Anyway she has a double barrelled shot gun to repel boarders. Bye honey.’
I was going to miss my Abby tonight. I just hoped that she wouldn’t wear out the loofah!
“–are you listenin’ to me, Samantha?”
“Sorry, Dotty, I was miles away. Did you say something?”
“Yes. I asked if you’d like a scone?”
“Yes please, could I have some cream and jam too?”
“Not lost yer appetite then?”
“No, it’s funny, having this illness seems to make me feel quite hungry.”
“Hmm.” she said, not sounding terribly convinced as she passed me a fine bone china plate, filled with a large scone with the requested jam and cream.
It was strange not having Jenkins around, but it seemed that Lady Fairbairn liked to have tea in private.
She poured some tea into a delicate bone china cup and passed it to me. My hand shook slightly as I took the cup and saucer, more indications of my thyroid problem. As I sipped my tea it was all I could do to not cock my little pinkie out.
Fifi was doing her celebrated rug impression and hadn’t moved an inch from the fireside. Now, had I been her, I would have at least begged for some crumbs from the table, but being the posh doggy that she was and full of good breeding, she deigned to ignore us.
“Well, Samantha, I hope you’ll enjoy stayin’ with us for a few days. I think it would be wise not to let anybody else know where you are stayin’. No one will blab here–it’s more than their life’s worth–so you should be safe. I’ve spoken to the Home Secretary, nice boy–wife’s a bit of a drip though–and he’s goin’ to put out feelers to see what’s happenin’ about this Nigel codger. I think he’s already spoken to the chief constable and he’s got some men on it. I understand from your Abby, that you have some private tecs looking into this matter and I’ve instructed the police to liaise with them to see if we can sort the so-and-so out once and for all.”
“Thanks, I don’t know what I’d do without all of you helping me so much.” For some reason I was getting a bit weepy. It was clear that I was still not very fit and somewhat emotional. Kindly, Lady Fairbairn looked away, studied the tapestry on the wall or was it the stag’s head–and didn't seem to notice my discomfort. When I finally managed to pull myself together and stopped snivelling, we talked about the garden, the moles, her gardener, her moles, the price of cabbages of all things and oh–more moles. After our tea, our chat turned to the portrait.
“How’s it goin’ then?” she asked in her normal forthright manner.
“Fine, I hope to finish it in a couple of months.”
“Mmm, I wished I’d asked you to do it in acrylics now — but I’ve waited some time for mine and Tremaine’s portrait to be done and I suppose waiting a month or two longer wont do me much harm.”
“Yes, you can’t hurry oils, can you?”
“What about your gallery. When will you start fillin’ the place up?”
“Well, Arthur Potts reckons he’ll be finished at the end of next week. Jocaster has put an advert in the parish magazine and hopefully I’ll get some local artists to come and display their work. Also I would like photographers to display their work. I have a lot of things that I would like to put on show but initially I would only want to display about half of my own work and half of others, just to see how it goes.”
“It’s about time that we had something of the sort at Penmarris. We could always do a bit of a culture here amongst some of these Philistines. But you look tired, my dear, would you like to go back upstairs and have a rest?”
I was feeling tired and felt it would be best if I had a bit of a lie down. So, after saying goodbye to Dotty, I made my way upstairs with the help of my friendly footman again. As I lay down on the bed, I couldn't keep my eyes open and quickly dozed off.
When I awoke, it was quite dark outside; the curtains hadn't been drawn and it was obvious that I had been left to my own devices. I switched on the bedside table lamp and made my way to the other side of the room where the curtains were. Looking out on the moonlit lawns I could see several mounds of earth. I smiled slightly as I could see that the moles still had the upper hand for the time being. Whether that would remain that way once Dotty managed to get them in her sights, would be another matter.
I shivered for some reason, so I returned to my bed and slipped under the covers.
There was a knock on the door. “Come in.” I called.
The door opened and Jenkins entered–or should I say floated in.
“You are awake, Miss?”
“Yes.”
“M’lady would like to know if you are well enough to come down to dinner.”
“What time is it?”
“Seven pip emma, Miss.”
“I am feeling a bit peckish,” I replied yawning.
“M’ lady has asked whether you would like to dress for dinner?”
I didn’t really want go down to dinner in a nightdress, even one as nice as this.
“I have nothing to wear.”
“ M’ lady has chosen something for you to wear. You are evidently of a similar size and she felt that you might want to dress formally because it might make you feel more relaxed, Miss. Sarah will come in and help you to dress.”
“But––”
How could I tell Jenkins–or Sarah–that physically I was a man even though, in fact, I was a woman? How much did they know? I looked at Jenkins and there was nothing that I could see from his face which gave me any indication as to whether he was aware of my situation. He looked a nice man and I decided to take a chance.
“Mister Jenkins?”
“Miss, just Jenkins, please,” he said with a smile.
“Right … Jenkins; how much do you know about me?”
“M’lady never keeps secrets from me as I am somewhat of a confidante. I am able to advise her sometimes when, perhaps, she says things she does not mean.”
“Do … do you know that physically I am not a woman?”
“I am aware, Miss, that you have not, as yet, completed your transition. But may I take the liberty of saying that as far as this humble servant is concerned; I feel that you are more of a woman than many that I have come across in the Cove.”
“Thank you, Jenkins, it’s nice to think that you feel this way about me; and by the way, there is no way that you could possibly be humble. I just wish that the horrible person who keeps writing these disgusting notes would think the same. How about Sarah does she know about me?”
“No she doesn’t. But you might feel that she ought to know.”
“Well, I don’t think it’s a secret any more, do you?”
“You will find that most people who live in the Cove would accept you for who you are. There may be a few people who might frown, but in the main, they are a pretty decent set of people.”
“Everyone has been so friendly to me. I was really lucky when I found this place with my finger.”
Jenkins smiled slightly.
“Yes, I heard that is the method you used to find the Cove; an unusual method but never the less quite effective in your case. Now Miss, would you like Sarah to come and help you?”
“You aren’t related to Jeeves are you?”
“Only in theory, Miss,” he replied, smiling. “Wodehouse is one of my favourite authors.”
I made the decision about Sarah.
“Please would you ask Sarah to help me? But I will tell her about me before she starts. I don’t want her to have any dreadful surprises.”
“Very well, Miss, I will send her directly with the dress at M’lady has chosen. Forgive me for leaving you so abruptly, Miss, as I need to see the computer chappie–young Dean Clump. We have had this virus that everyone has been suffering from and we have, it appears, lost the household accounts. Michael the under-footman will be seeing to your needs this evening as M’lady wishes me to assist young Clump.”
As he closed the door quietly behind him, I wondered with a certain amount of apprehension what Dotty considered to be the correct dress for dinner, a formal dinner at that. I wasn’t left alone for very long though, because there was another knock on the door and Sarah breezed in. I had to smile as her happy, chirpy face was enough to lift any gloom that I might have had.
“’Ullo, Miss, yer looks a bit be’er, I must say.”
She was barely visible because she was carrying a long dress in electric blue satin, what appeared to be a slip and other girlie essentials.
‘I’ll plonk the stuff down ’ere and then ’elp yer get ready, Miss.”
“Sarah.”
“This dress is loverly, Miss. I wish I could wear it, but she said I’m too young and anyway, I fink ’t’snot fair!”
“Sarah–”
“And wot abaht those ’eels, four inches ’igh. Blimey, I could see the clouds if I were tha’ ’igh!”
“Sarah!”
She stopped mid flood and looked at me. “Yus, Miss. Sorry, Miss, I do on a bit don’ I? She says that I ’ave verbal diarrhoea whatever tha’ is. I fink it’s the squirts–cos Charlie the gardener’s assistant said…”
“SARAH!”
That shut her up like a clam.
“Please sit on the bed. I need to talk to you before you help me dress.”
She sat down, a puzzled smile playing on her pretty face.
“Sorry, Sarah, I didn’t mean to shout but I have to talk to you. Can you promise not to interrupt?”
“Yus, Miss,” she said in a small voice. She had the look of someone who had just been told off and I felt as if I had just kicked my favourite puppy.
“Look Sarah; I don’t know if you’ve heard any rumours about me but I am what is known as transgendered. In my case what that means is that I am a woman trapped in a man’s body. Ever since I was very, very young, I have always known that I’m a girl. I’ve never felt that I was a boy, although I did try very hard to be one. In fact I got married and tried to live my life as a man–although one that was a cross-dresser. My wife knew this and married me in spite of it. My marriage never worked out and I left her not very long ago. Now I live here full-time as a female and I intend to have an operation as soon as I can to finalise things. So although I have male equipment down below, I am a woman. I will understand if you don’t want to help me. It’s hard to take on board, I know. So if you want to leave me to get dressed by myself, I will understand.”
I looked at Sarah’s face and saw that she still wore a puzzled expression. What was she thinking? Was she appalled at what I’d just revealed? Would she run from the room screaming? She was still looking at me with a slight smile playing on her face.
“Miss, I understand, really I do. Y’see, I … I … I’m just like you––”
Please leave comments...thanks! ~Sue
My thanks go to the brilliant and lovely Gabi for editing, help with the plot-lines and pulling the story into shape.
Comments
What is this place?!!
Is that some lind of hallowed place? Kind people, acceptance, protectiveness... They have set a high standart for the world!
Faraway
Big Closet Top Shelf
Where you can fool around like you want to and most you get is some bemused good ribbing!
Faraway
Big Closet Top Shelf
Where you can fool around like you want to and most you get is some bemused good ribbing!
WOW!!
What an ending. This really shows where Dotty's heart is. Sam's probably more shocked that Sarah. I wish I found a town so supportive and understanding.
I like that Dotty has started the ball rolling to get Nigel and gang. It was only a matter of time once his henchmen sent the message to Lady F.
Can't wait for ~Changes~ 49.
Hugs,
Trish-Ann
~There is no reality, only perception~
Hugs,
Trish Ann
~There is no reality, only perception~
Hurray for Sarah!
What a perfect response from that sweet cockney serving wench !
This tale contitnues to delight and entertain. I wonder if, somewhere, over the rainbow, there might just be a place like this Cove...... What a nice dream to have!
Briar
Briar
I knew it! I knew it!
Yes, Ma'am. Had that thought last chapter.
Love Ya, Sue.
Sarah Lynn
Yes, you did.
Hugs, Wendy Marie
Wendy Marie
Samantha
How could you leave that line for last...just great. This has to be one of the best stories on this site. It displays a gentility and femininity that is so sweet. The characters are friends, they have a great reality. I wish, I could live in a community like Penmaris...and have friends like Abby, Jo, Samantha and others. Love, Mary.
Priorities
Penmarris, the town where one of the few things that could instill a public expression of upper-class outrage, a situation so dire it must be addressed directly and at once, is the drooping of the delphiniums over at the church!
Variations in individuals, eccentricities, talents, personal peculiarities and deficiencies are accepted for what they are, merely a part of the rich texture of the community.
Goodness! How refreshing!
___________________
If a picture is worth 1000 words, this is at least part of my story.
What airport do I book flight to
so that I can move there? :-)
This is a wonderful series centered around a very special lady and the friends and home that I think all of us yearn for.
Janice
Now, WE Know Why
Dotty is so accepting of our beloved Sam. That Lady has taken on a heap of trouble in Sam, I am guessing that that problem Jenkins is helping with is due to nasty nigel. I refuse to capitalize his name.
May Your Light Forever Shine
May Your Light Forever Shine
A new revelation
RAMI
There is a new exciting revelation in each wonderful chapter. What future surprises are we in store for and whom else might be transgendered.
RAMI
RAMI
Now you've done it!
It wasn't entirely unexpected, but still, I'm laughing and crying at the same time. Thank you.
Fifi's Portrait
It's raining and the sun sneaks through an occasional break in the clouds to flash through my window. It's a sign! It's time to read the latest chapter of Changes!
This was a nice quiet chapter with a nice revelation at the end. I love the characters in this story. They're all such ... characters.
The only thing missing I think is to see where Fifi's portrait is displayed. I know I'd be curious to see where my artwork is being displayed.
Okay. That's it for now. Thanks very much and please keep up the good work.
- Terry
OMG!!!
Once again I am stunned! If her Ladyship turns out to be transgendered, I will need smelling salts for sure!
This continues to be one of the outstanding stories here on BC. Keep it coming... I need my twice weekly fix!
Diane
I just knew she was going to
I just knew she was going to say that! Is this place a TG haven, or what? ;)
Keep 'em comin' Sue! :)
Saless
"But it is also tradition that times *must* and always do change, my friend." - Eddie Murphy, Coming To America
Awwwww!
Excellent! This is a wonderful installment to the series. I thought the twist at the end was rather interesting. It looks like Sam has found the perfect transgender get away. Good for her!!
-JT
=^.^=
-JT
=^.^=
I'd like to say
that i saw the twist at the end of the chapter coming.....But i would be lying, Sue you always deliver with the quality of your writing....Long may it continue.
Kirri
I could see that coming a mile away!
Truely!
I suspected something when Dotty had said she had adopted Sarah, and then she made her the maid.
Could it be that Dotty is herself a TG, and is this why she has taken to look after Samantha?
LoL
Rita
Age is an issue of mind over matter.
If you don't mind, it doesn't matter!
(Mark Twain)
LoL
Rita
Perfect world
I do agree that Sue has great writing talent and it is a very captivating story. I feel like it's a bit over the top with it's acceptance and good feeling. Maybe it's just me, but this story gives off the feeling that nothing will ever go wrong, and even the threat of Nigel and his cronies against Samantha's family can't be taken too seriously. The world just feels too perfect and we know everything will work out in the end. I do love the story and will keep reading, but that's just the feeling I get. None of the recent events have surprised me at all. I expected each of them because that is just the way this story goes.
I guess there is nothing wrong with that though. It's clearly a feel good story and I suppose we all need something like this to escape to from time to time.
Personally I do like my stories with a bit less predictability and a bit more realism and less of a perfect world. That being said I enjoy this story and your writing quite a bit. You're a great author and I look forward to more.
Hmmmm
You must be either be a young pup, Ryan or grew up in a medium to large city -- there are hundreds of thousands of little towns and villages all around the world where the eccentricities of their townsfolk are merely accepted as commonplace.
As to Nigel's threats, this is the beauty of small towns -- they'll rally around those they've adopted as their own to protect them.
I should know, I grew up in a little village of a little more than 3,000 and with all its trials and tribulations growing up, I wouldn't change it for a $300 million lotto ticket.
Actually
Actually I grew up in a small town myself, have lived in 3 of them. I know from personal experience that they are not this perfect. Yes small towns can be great but they are never this perfect. My critique was not based on the people rallying to support Samantha. Of course that would happen. That is something that friends do for each other. It's more along the lines of everything being so perfect in this place and everything working out so perfectly that as a reader I just can't take them seriously. The things that do go wrong are small and end up working out to an exact perfect solution every time. Therefore as a reader I already expect that everything is going to work out perfectly with Nigel and Olivia. It's appears clear from the way this story is going that Sue has no intention of torturing this character and that no matter how messy things might get, they will work out perfectly in the end. I also get the clear feeling that anything that does go wrong will not be too serious. There is nothing wrong with that style of writing, it's just not the kind of story I typically enjoy. That being said I take this for what it is and I am enjoying this particular story.
The Mistake You're Making...
...Is thinking this is some kind of drama, mystery or adventure story. I don't think that's what it really is, or is meant to be.
If it's anything, it's a television sitcom (or a story which could easily be one), and a very excellent one at that. So, anticipate each weekly episode with happiness, sit back, put your feet up on the coffee table, and enjoy your lemonade and crisps along with the chuckles, interesting twists and challenges to our protagonist, and warm feelings. That's how it's meant to be enjoyed, imho.
No actually that is not the
No actually that is not the case. I recognize this story for exactly what it is. I am just saying that I normally don't enjoy this style of writing but in this case I am actually enjoying the story.
The Other Mistake You're Making…
…Ryan, is that you're not comparing like with like. Penmarris is NOT a small town, it is a small coastal village of perhaps 1000 souls who earn their living from the sea (fishing) and holidaymakers. There is a vast difference between small town America and an English coastal village such as Penmarris, where the inhabitants really do watch out for their neighbours and friends and take care of them.
Penmarris Cove is small and compact, built on a hillside bordering the sea. Here are a couple of pix to show you the type of place it is; the first is a photo of Polperro in Cornwall and the second is a painting that Sam might have have painted of the fictional Penmarris Cove.
As Sue Brown's editor, I also think that Pippa K has a point. This is meant to be a story full of joy. (Who she?)
Gabi.
Gabi.
But we have more words to do it with!
Ah yes, it is a Man's language and quite inadequate, so we are forced to use 4 times the words to accomplish our tasks. Men handicap us so greviously sometimes!
Khadijah
Isn't It Obvious?
Clearly every woman in Penmaris is transgendered or intersexed. There's Samantha and Abby (intersexed) and Clarice's child and now Sarah. This is the Mecca for England's TG population, just as Brighton is the magnet for the gay.
Soon, Sue is going to show that this is the real-life Rocky Horror Show and the whole village is going to break into "Let's Do The Time-Warp Again" led, naturally, by Jenkins, and guess who Lady F. will turn out to be? None other than Frank'N'Furter.
I'm amazed nobody saw it before,
Joanne
LOL!
Although I don't see this story lasting quite as long as Bike, it does share a number of the same qualities (apart from the TG angle, which is pretty much expected around here!):
* Open-ended storyline
* Set in Britain (and written by a Brit)
* Ever-present cast of supporters
* A known enemy that lurks just over the horizon, and you never know when they'll next rear their ugly head
* Comments almost as interesting as the storyline itself
Let's just hope Nigel doesn't have pals in the Russian Mafia...
Then again, I wonder if Nigel is a customer of High Street Bank? :)
After all, Dotty is the kind of person who'd probably know Henry...
--Ben
As the right side of the brain controls the left side of the body, then only left-handers are in their right mind!
Ahhh!!! Sue it is taking me
Ahhh!!! Sue it is taking me longer to read the comments then the story itself!! This is a good indicator of the quality of your story telling!! You have a solid following of which I luckily count myself!! I will be sad when you finish as this a very pleasant interlude from the cares of the world!!
Thanks a bunch,
Pamela
"how many cares one loses when one decides not to be
something, but someone" Coco Chanel
Cor, this is a Cinderella story too!
Some people care for stray Cats and Dogs. The Lady seems to be gathering a litter of special girls!
Now this Nigel skum needs to be dead, so he won't ever be an issue again!
But, that is just me.
Khadijah
Gabi was so right.....
Penmarris is NOT a small town, it is a small coastal village of perhaps 1000 souls who earn their living from the sea (fishing) and holidaymakers. There is a vast difference between small town America and an English coastal village such as Penmarris, where the inhabitants really do watch out for their neighbours and friends and take care of them.
Penmarris Cove is small and compact, built on a hillside bordering the sea. Here are a couple of pix to show you the type of place it is; the first is a photo of Polperro in Cornwall and the second is a painting that Sam might have have painted of the fictional Penmarris Cove.
When I wrote one of my serials about Cornwall, it could have been Penmarris! Lovely style!
Love Ginger xx
Ah Ha!
I kind of wondered if there was more to Sarah not fitting in well in the orphanage.
What great characters, all!
Y’see, I … I … I’m just like you.
I'm really enjoying the story, but I saw this one a mile off.
Bump in the writing road
This chapter had two real hurdles for me. I'm surprised because you have done such a good job of inter-twined plots, contrasts of characters that actually have real personalities, colourful language, and just a darn good, page turning, tale.
Who didn't groan at the failure to stay away from the sauce... another contrast within characters. She is so much stronger except for... But, that's no excuse for throwing all care and fears to the wind and telling her tale to the biggest blabber mouth in the region who you know has no ability in restraint. Helper in dressing is no excuse since it can be worked around. Then there is the matter of someone who can only stagger across the room actually planning on wear four inch heels (which in the next chapter turn into three inch heels).
Okay, so its not the end of the world and the story worked enough to make it survive; but I put the book down at that point (using tablet) to get away from the bothersome inconsistency.
Thank you for your work and sharing. Its still one of the best published here.