I have been lucky to have had help with this story from two of Big Closet’s finest writers: Angela Rasch (Jill MI) and Emma Anne Tate

The third of January came up and hit us, the first day that justice resumed after the Christmas/New Year break. Our court appointment was for 11 a.m. Lisa had left messages suggesting that we should be at the court-house an hour earlier as there had been some developments that we needed to know about.

So we met her in the antechamber and after a minute or so a middle-aged man approached our little group. She introduced him. “Mac, this is Malcolm Hurst. He is the solicitor for the Morgans, and he has a proposal.”

We shook hands and he gave Ali a seemingly sincere smile. “Look, I’ve been talking to the Morgans over the last few days and they agree that they haven’t exactly been presenting themselves in the best light. After some discussion I was able to point out to them that they might be fighting a losing battle. We are fighting over a sixteen-year-old who can legally choose where she wants to live and who she wants to live with.”

“OK, go on,” I said, keeping my tone and face neutral.

“They know they’ve been hasty and done things that could be interpreted badly.”

“No doubt about that.” That’s why we’re here, I thought.

“I think I’ve persuaded them to change their attitude. I’ve seen the police evidence and told my clients I think they will lose if they follow the path they have taken so far. Criminal and financial consequences could accrue from their actions.”

“So what are you saying?”

“If you drop the charges, they will sign an undertaking not to pursue any kind of custody pertaining to the child and to sign an avoidance not to approach the child or hinder her association with you.”

The fact that they had referred to Ali as “her” told me we had won. They had accepted the reality of the situation. They may have been silly and they may have been impulsive and somewhat callous but they weren’t evil. They knew when to fold.

“Look, Mr. Hurst.”

“Malcolm.”

The enemy of my enemy is my friend, but he isn’t quite my friend yet.“I would need some kind of positive written statement from them that they will support my application for guardianship. I want Ali to feel secure.”

“I think I can manage to get them to agree to that. They really want to put this whole unfortunate business behind them.”

I turned to Lisa. “What do you think? You’re my legal advisor.”

“Mac, subject to a signed agreement I think we should accept the offer with your proviso. It’s technically not up to us to drop the charges. That’s for the police to decide but if we’re not going to pursue the matter, I don’t think they’ll have a problem.”

There is another person involved in all of this.” Ali, will you be happy with that? Basically, they’ll leave you alone and you can carry on living with me? All we have to do is convince the magistrate.”

“That’s fine by me, J…Mac.”

Lisa grinned slyly. “We’ll talk later. First we have to chat with the police and the magistrate. Is that OK with you, Malcolm?”

“Yes, let’s get in there and see if we can sort this mess out.”

We entered the courtroom. Ali’s parents were already there. Malcolm spoke to them briefly and they looked relieved. Then he and Lisa went over to the police, who were ensconced where prosecutors normally sit. There were a few minutes back and forth and everybody seemed to relax.

Nobody likes the tension of court proceedings. I’d been through them many times and it’s never any good for the nerves. If the judge got out of bed on the wrong side that morning even a good case could turn sour.

The magistrate entered a couple of minutes later and we did the usual rising, bowing, and scraping before resuming our seats. I must say she didn’t make a big deal out of it. That gave me heart.

The police wasted no time in telling her that the parties had agreed to waive the charges pending a formal legal agreement.

Malcolm delivered an accurate oral recap of our positions.

She looked at her documents and paused for a few moments. “There is one provision I will be enforcing.” She glared at the Morgans.
“I will be binding you both over to keep the peace. Is that understood?”

They stared at Malcolm like dogs who had been caught digging in the yard.

He answered for them. “Yes, your honour. Thank you.”

“If that is acceptable, I will declare the case closed. I will award costs against the defendants. You may go, but don’t let me see you in here again. I have exercised clemency once, but I won’t be inclined to do so again. What you did was very wrong.”

“Thank you, your honour,” Malcolm said.

Costs would be minimal due to the brevity of the hearing so the Morgans got off very lightly.

We all trooped out into the anteroom. I still didn’t like the Morgans but their counsel had done a good job for them. That was enough.

He and Lisa said they would have the enforcement documents drawn up by close of day.

Lisa, Ali, and I retreated to a corner to discuss the outcome in private.

“Happy?” Lisa asked Ali.

“Yes, all I wanted was for them to leave us alone, so it’s fine. Thanks, Lisa.”

“What about you, Mac, or should I say “Joanne”?” She gave me a huge smirk.

My jaw dropped and I didn’t know what to say. How does she know?

“What do you mean?” I spluttered and groaned. ”Does the whole world know?”

She tittered. “Sorry, I shouldn’t shock you like that but I couldn’t resist.”

Ali broke into laughter. “Sprung!” she snorted. “That’s a gotcha.”

“OK, I surrender, but how did you come to that conclusion?”

“I am a lawyer and I’m used to sussing out things that clients don’t want to tell me. When you acted all cagey a few days ago I knew you were hiding something. You live in a block of units with sixty-odd other tenants and news about this unknown lady sitting by the pool went around like wildfire. I have a few other contacts and clients there so my antennae went soaring."

" I put two and two together and came up with twentytwo!”

“I don’t know whether to hate you or admire you! You’re still my lawyer, though, so you’re bound to secrecy!”

“Don’t worry. I’m not going to tell anybody and I would like to see my client “Joanne” sometime soon. Just give me a heads-up when she’s going to appear, OK? I like some light relief.”

“Sneaky bitch. I hate you.”

“That’s no way to speak to your lawyer!”

Ali had been giggling away. “I like Mac but Joanne’s much nicer. I know you’ll like her too.”

I was shaken that my secret identity had been torn to shreds so easily. How did Superman get away with it? Just a pair of glasses and a phone booth? Mind you, it’s bloody hard to find a phone booth these days.

Lisa pulled us back to business. “I’ll send you the agreement later today. I don’t think there will be any problems. Malcolm’s a decent guy and he will have told them of the consequences if they didn’t accept reality.”

“How did you get hold of him?”

“Just lucky. Nothing to do with me. He’s one of those that’s not afraid to tell his clients the truth, even if it’s not what they would like to hear. There are plenty of others who would milk the case for fees.”

She paused, “I’ve booked you a hearing in the Family Court for your application to be Ali’s guardian. I hope tomorrow’s not too soon. I don’t think it should take too long. Part of today’s agreement is that Ali’s parents will not only not contest your application but will support it. I’m sorry, Ali, but it seems their parental instincts are lacking.”

Ali bit her lip.

“I don’t care. They don’t love me and I don’t love them.” She clutched my arm. “I’ve got somebody I love and I’ve got somebody who loves me.” She gave me a look which melted my heart.

The sooner I get that guardianship the better.

“What time, Lisa?”I have to ring Arpi and postpone but I don’t think she’ll mind.

“10.30. I don’t think it’ll take long, but there might be a few awkward questions, so we’d better have a bit of a coaching session beforehand. Can you meet me at 10? Just one thing, tomorrow there must be no hint of “Joanne”.” She turned to Ali. “You be extra careful, you hear?”

Ali looked contrite and nodded.

I absorbed that. “Of course.” I would call Arpi later and put off our appointment with her for a week. Hopefully all the legal stuff would be completed by then.

We concluded our meeting and left Lisa to nut out an agreement with Mr. Hurst. She was going to email a copy to me later on.

We went home and relaxed.

I poured myself the first glass of Chardonnay for the day.

“You drink too much,” my little girl accused.

“Yeah, so?”

“Joanne drinks less. Why is that?”

I found it hard to answer that question. “She doesn’t get as much exposure to alcohol. When my wife died I used the drink to kinda drown my sorrows. It dulled the pain of her absence. I didn’t think about her as much when I’d had a few Chardonnays.”

“Yes, I understand that, but it was more than two years ago, so why are you still doing it?”

“It becomes a habit, I guess, and I like it. Hey! Are you nagging me?” I almost had to laugh. Women can’t resist trying to make you into a better person and I had created my own personal monster.

“I suppose I am. Excessive drinking can’t be good for you.”

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No. I just think you should slow down a bit.”

“For you, I’ll try, and if I spend more time as Joanne then it won’t be as much of a problem.” I smiled.

“That sounds like something we can agree on. I want you to be Joanne a much as possible and you drink less, OK?”

“Yes, Mum.”

It’s a fact. A man sees his chosen woman as perfection but she sees him as a piece of clay that has to be moulded into the shape that she wishes him to be. A little nagging is part of the process. I hadn’t had anyone to nag me for the last couple of years. It was almost comical. Funny how you can enjoy being nagged, as long as it’s in moderation. Thank you, Oscar Wilde.

The agreement came through and there were no mouse-traps. I showed Ali. She agreed and I sent it back with our acceptance.

The next day we met Lisa again. The Family Court was in the same building, but on a different floor.

Lisa got down to business quickly. “The only unusual things about this application are the circumstances that led up to it, and the brevity of your association. She may want to impose conditions and, of course, there’s always the possibility that she might refuse it, so I’ve got a statement from the police and I’m submitting a copy of the Agreement to the magistrate and a recommendation from me as to your good character and financial ability to support Ali. I also got an affidavit from your son that you’ve been a good parent and it’s notarized. She may want to interview you separately. Some of the questions may seem a little strange as they’re designed for overseas situations, but you’re both Australian citizens so that shouldn’t be a problem.” She paused to draw a breath. “The major complication is that you haven’t known each other for very long but I think we can swing that with the police evidence, Ali’s parents’ agreement not to contest the case and your son’s testimonial.”

I was never so glad that we had kept the question of my transgenderism out of the mix.

“When you’re questioned just tell the truth. Mac, your financial standing will come up, but you’ve got me to give an affidavit on your behalf. Ali, all you have to do is confirm that you want it. It’s a bit simpler because you’re sixteen so you could actually live on your own if you wanted. The magistrate will want to know that you are going to a loving home of your own free will. For Heaven’s sake, do not mention “Joanne”!”

I nodded. “Yeah, Lisa! I’ve got it!”

“You may have to go into some detail, Mac. Don’t be reluctant to emphasize the circumstances of your wife’s death and how devastated you were. I can support that if necessary.”

Our appointed hour came and Lisa left us outside while she found out how the magistrate wanted to handle us. It turned out that she wanted to hear Ali first, so I was left chewing my nails for fifteen minutes while my girl was grilled.

They came out smiling so it obviously wasn’t a hostile interview. Lisa confirmed that all had gone well. No bombs were dropped and so far, so good.

It was my turn in the cauldron. We left Ali sitting on a bench and went into the courtroom. I took the mandatory oath and braced myself. Unlike some of my other experiences in court there was no opposing counsel waiting to tear me to shreds. The magistrate was an elderly lady who immediately set me at ease with her maternal manner.

There were, of course, the usual questions to establish my identity and place of domicile. With those out of the way we got to the nitty-gritty.

She referred to Ali in her desired gender throughout.

Was I financially capable of looking after Alicia. That was easy, with the presence of the solicitor who had assisted me through the maze of probate for the last two years by my side. Yes, I was financially viable. I owned my own apartment and had sufficient income to provide for the girl.

How had I met Ali and when? I described how I had found her at the shopping mall, how she was distraught and I couldn’t bear to leave her there so I had taken her to my home and we had phoned her parents to let them know she was safe.

Then came the question that I was not quite dreading, but hoped I could convince the magistrate of my sincerity.

“Mr. McDougall, that’s a short time on which to base an application for guardianship. Tell me why I should grant your application.”

“Am I permitted to give you some background, Your Honour?”

“If you think it will help me to make up my mind, Mr. McDougall, I’m willing to listen.”

“My wife died a little over two years ago, multiple cancers, and I guess you could describe my life as rudderless since then. We had been married for nearly thirty-five years, happy years, and then I was alone. Life became a sad routine. Then accidentally I bumped into a young girl who needed help. One of those unforeseen circumstances that can change not one, but two, lives. Ali has brought purpose and, yes, happiness back into my life.”

I paused to compose myself.

“I suppose it might seem sudden, Your Honour, but the girl needs someone in her life to properly look after her, and in this short time I have come to care for her. I’ll be more than happy to provide her with a loving home until such time as she decides she wants to strike out on her own. She is, after all, sixteen and will be legally an adult in a couple of years. My care will be temporary but, I would like to think, will assist in her transition from childhood to maturity.”

“Hmmm,” the judge offered. “The police think you’ll be a positive influence. Her parents actually support this application. Your lawyer is in favour. Your son seems to think you were a good father. The girl wants it and I feel you’re a good man.”

Thank goodness!

She continued. “What I’ll do is give you a temporary guardianship for three months. This is unusual, but it’s within my jurisdiction and the circumstances are somewhat unusual too. We seek successful solutions here. You will be on probation of a kind for that period. A condition of the guardianship will be that Child Support Services will have visitation rights every two weeks to your apartment. I want you and Alicia to come before me in three months and tell me if things are working out between you. As long as Child Support approve I’ll make the situation permanent.”

“Thank you, Your Honour, you won’t regret it.”

I couldn’t help myself. I cried in relief. It’s always been my big giveaway.

Lisa and I hurried out of the courtroom to convey the good news to Ali. The poor girl had been waiting with no idea what the outcome would be. She knew as soon as we burst into the ante-chamber with smiles on our faces.

She rushed over to me and gave me a ferocious hug.

“Whoa! Ease off. It’s not a complete victory, my sweet.”

I let Lisa explain the terms on which the magistrate had granted me guardianship but that did nothing to dampen Ali’s ecstasy.

“We’ve won. You know we’ll be happy.”

Lisa cautioned me to be careful not to have Joanne take part in the visitations. “Better to be safe than sorry.”

If you had asked me about all of this four weeks ago I probably would have laughed in your face, the grizzled and cynical construction guy, albeit with his own problems, and a young transgender girl in dire need of a helping hand. Strange what fate deals you, isn’t it?

Anyway, I was never one to look a gift horse in the mouth. A win is a win. A nose in front is as good as five lengths. The bet pays the same. We wouldn’t have any problems making the situation work .

That was a happy day and we still had time to go to lunch. I asked Lisa if she had any unputoffable appointments for the afternoon and she said she didn’t so we went to lunch at a restaurant well-known to me in Fortitude Valley, where they did a nice menu ranging from steaks to Asian salads. I was driving so my “Jiminy Cricket” was very pleased that I only had two small glasses of chardonnay before we dropped Lisa off back at MacArthur Centre and went on home. I had a nap and relaxed after the slightly traumatic events of the morning.

Ali made us some nice sandwiches for our “dinner” with sliced roast beef and salad. It was all we needed.

She tried to persuade me to be Joanne the next day but I refused on the grounds that we had lots of administrative, clerical, and secretarial stuff to get out of the way first. Now that the legal situation was settled, at least temporarily, we had to enrol her in our Medicare scheme, register her new address to coincide with mine and all the other little things you don’t think of until you have to do them all at once.

I wasn’t complaining. I enjoyed having all this purposeful activity to occupy me. I signed her up for a couple of credit cards and put her on to my bank account as a dependent. All of that would take time to come through.

We had a talk about possible gender reassignment and although she wasn’t one hundred per cent sure she wanted surgery we agreed that she should at least talk to a doctor who was familiar with transgender issues and maybe get referred to an endocrinologist for some preliminary examinations. All of these things take time to organize and I was going to have to do some research.

Thank heavens for the internet. What must it have been like for earlier generations?

She wanted to know why I hadn’t done anything about my own transgenderism so I spent some time explaining about my life’s experiences and how there were different degrees along the Bell curve, that some people, like me, could live with the bodies that they were born with, even if it was hard sometimes, and that others just couldn’t survive without going the whole way. If they didn’t, they sometimes wrongly concluded that the only answer was death.

Ali was unsure where she was on the scale. I told her she had time to work it out and she had me who understood, whatever decision she came to. I would always be there for her. We left it there for the present.

She was always pressing me to be Joanne, and I didn’t need much pressing. My five minutes of notoriety around the apartments had passed very quickly, and if I didn’t need to present as Mac for official business I willingly showed myself as Joanne. The only active enemy was neighbour Dave and his displeasure was limited to a snarl when our paths crossed. Several just ignored me or avoided me but most at least gave me a smile when I was Joanne. A few actively engaged me in conversation, wanting to know what kind of strange beast I had become. Some even welcomed me as Joanne, but largely I was treated as just another fixture around the building.

I did succumb to the tortures of facial depilation. I was no longer presenting as Joanne once a month if I was lucky but probably half of the month or more, so I started a course of electrolysis, and I have to say it is as painful as I had been told, but if, after a couple of months of treatment I will no longer have to shave, Yippee!

My family are a joy. I shouldn’t use that bitch’s name to describe them, but they are truly wonderful. My grandchildren can’t get enough of Ali and she can’t get enough of them. I think if Max was a couple of years older he would be in love with Ali rather than just loving her, if you know what I mean. Kylie and Anthony have completely adapted to whoever opens the door, be it Mac or Joanne. Visits are relaxed affairs and we often lunch, or occasionally have dinner, at the Ship Inn. I have no idea why I was so scared at revealing the real me to them. Stupid!

Our Social Services lady, Nicole, comes round every two weeks to make sure that I am treating Ali right. She is a very pleasant middle-aged woman who clearly loves her job. She always gives us a day’s notice so it’s always a “Mac” day and we chat over a cup of coffee while Ali has some kind of soft drink. She inspects the apartment and we give her time to talk to Ali alone so she can make a fair report.

However, we have to fast forward from the Court appearance.

**************************

She turned up one day early unannounced. I didnt know that public servants worked Saturdays. I answered the door as Joanne. She had sneakily obtained access from our Building Managers, who had innocently allowed her the keys to the lift. They knew who she was, of course.

I gaped when I saw her. I was in full warpaint and a nice black-and-white jersey dress so dissembling was impossible. Ali and I had been planning on going out later. Our probation was due to finish in two weeks.

“Hello, you must be ‘Joanne’. I’ve been dying to meet you,” she said with a smile.

I must have gobbled like a turkey, at a complete loss for words.

“Well, are you going to invite me in? I’ve always been welcome before.”

I was completely blindsided and could do nothing but stand aside and let her into the flat. She wafted past me like a galleon under full sail. “Won’t you sit down?” She took my arm and shepherded me to one of my own chairs.

I flopped more or less bonelessly into it, still in shock.

“Shall I make us some coffee?” She asked breezily. “I know where everything is.”

I recovered my voice. “Go ahead. I think I need one. Make it strong. All right, what’s this ambush all about?”

“Don’t be like that, Joanne. We can discuss this like civilized people. I mean you no harm. By the way, where’s Ali?”

“She went for a walk, but I bet you knew that.”

“True. I did. I wanted to get you on your own so we can settle things.”

She poured two cups of coffee and brought them over to the table. She knew how much milk and how many sugars I took.

“Now, down to business. I’m not here to crucify you or destroy the relationship between you and Ali. Just the opposite. I’ve observed your interactions over the last two-and-a-half months and I see love, OK?” She smiled. “While your situation may be a bit unusual I’ve been doing this job for twenty years or more. I’ve seen good ones and bad ones, and yours is brilliant.”

“Then why are you putting me through this? I want to know that Ali is safe.”

“She is safe. Trust me. I’m not going to go back to my office and report that she is being subjected to some kind of perverted parental grooming. I know that’s not you, but I want the air between us to be clear. My main task is to observe that the relationship is going well and it is. I also keep my eyes open to what happens in proximity to the relationship, so I have talked to a lot of the people who live here and they all think you’re a good person, well, with the exception of that Dave fellow, but even he is all piss and wind. There’s always one.

“My real message to you is that if Joanne turns up at the, let’s call it the graduation ceremony, for your guardianship, in a couple of weeks, there will be no problems. I will endorse you and my Department will endorse you. It’s up to you how you wish to present. The magistrate is an old sweetie and her only concern is that Ali is happy. Personally I hope it’s Joanne.”

I relaxed at her benediction. “I’ll have to think about it.”

“All right, can I have a smoke? These confrontations always take it out of me.”

“OK, let’s go out on the balcony.” I found a superannuated ashtray and we sat outside. I haven’t smoked for twenty years but I accepted the cigarette she offered me. After coughing and spluttering for a few minutes I stubbed it out. “I guess I’m really over them,” I said.

She laughed.

A little while later we parted with a hug.

I still have to face the court in a week or so. Don’t tell me that’s not an ordeal. Something can always go wrong.