Book 2, Chapter 9

Each day brings changes but some more than others. I was up early and dressed in boatyard dungarees with boots to make breakfast next morning as I wanted a lift in with Dad to see Ian the rigger about some work. Mum having taken in my unprepossessing appearance decided to tell me my hair was a mess too but I stole her thunder because I'd already made an appointment at the hairdressers for late that afternoon. Happy families, Cardiff style, or maybe it's like that all over the world.

"You couldn't resist and you've come to claim your kiss." called out Ian as we pulled up outside his workshop unloading my bicycle.

"Dad will be with you in a minute so pucker up ready for him" I replied in reference to Ian's offer of a discount for a kiss on our last meeting.

As Dad pulled away confused, Ian's eyes took in my blossoming figure…

"Unless I'm very much mistaken you've grown a bit more girl. The doctor been feeding you them 'ormones?"

"Seems my body makes those by itself Ian but my doctor did warn me to keep away from over-sexed men like you unless I wanted a baby." I'd come to recognise in Ian a heart of gold hiding behind his dirty-old-man facade and I wasn't surprised when his eyebrows shot skyward with an unspoken question.

"Yes Ian. With luck."

Our banter quotient reached we got into the details of techniques for using Dyneema. Promoted as the strongest material in the world and weight for weight 15 times stronger than steel, it had enormous potential to cut down weight aloft but used techniques for rigging not seen for a 100 years (before swaged end fittings and turnbuckles). "There will be problems to overcome but this could take over from wire and I want to try it before doing Bill's boat so by the end of the week materials will be here to re-rig 'Cyflym'(Swift). Ian was a keen racing sailor and where he went technically with his boat Cyflym, others were likely to follow so it made financial sense.

Having agreed with Ian that we would arrange times and dates on the phone as soon as the materials arrived, I pedalled over to Dad's place to do a few hours circuit building before cycling into town for my hairdressing appointment with Litara's friend.

"Before we start I'd like to see some of your earrings" I explained. "I'm doing much more dancing and particularly want something dramatic that won't swing about."

That is how I ended up pierced for a second set of studs higher up my ear in preparation for the new earrings I chose. It might be a small thing but I was inordinately pleased with my choice, I think because they were picked to please nobody but myself. The decision on which surgery to have was purely for me of course but although I'd enjoyed looking attractive to others my appearance hadn't mattered much to me personally as was witnessed by my turning up in the city windswept and dungaree-clad like some 1970s feminist hippie.

My hairstyle I didn't change despite the hairdresser's half-hearted attempt to get me to try a short style to better show off my earrings. Why would I let anyone chop off my best feature? So all done I left, promising not to leave it so long between trims, and went to explore the shopping mall, just in case…

'Just in case' turned out to involve a new leotard with bright flowers and a contrasting green and copper scarf as well as a pair of 3½" heels that I bought purely because I felt the need to stretch my ability to dance in heels.

There were other things to buy like food, as being the one not really working I was expected to pick up the bulk of the domestic work, but that didn't spoil the inner glow building quite nicely inside me. In fact that glow stopped with me throughout the evening and the next day, if anything growing as I prepared for my evening dancing lesson in my new outfit - it would be a while before I could wear my new earrings but the accessories I'd worn the previous week matched well.

"Do you think we could try something like reggae tonight? At a club last Friday I felt short of experience in the more club-based music - I even think the disabled group might like to try it. This week as well I'd like to try these heels to see if I can manage," I said dangling the new shoes from two fingers.

"No reason why not and you're right about the disabled group as we've done it before and reggae is a favourite. My only advice is you change shoes straight away if those new ones start to hurt but otherwise… 'Go for it!'"

It was the best night so far and that might be why I agreed when, while clearing up afterwards, John asked if I would like to join him for a drink at the pub adding that he'd drop me home afterwards. John was far to old for me at I'd guess 45 but against the odds we did get on and he was to be honest incredibly hot - think Pierce Brosnan in the Thomas Crown Affair.

The pub, off my usual patch, was pleasant but nothing special, but then neither were we after 2 hours of sweaty dancing. John got a pint of bitter for himself and a half of cider for me and started describing how he and his wife used to dance in all the competitions until the accident…

That is when they came in! The 'Parrot Man' and, still walking with a cane, his friend from the car park!