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Previously…

David was taking a long time and I wondered if he was unable to find a working phone. I was just about to get up to look for him, when he walked back in. He looked as white as a sheet as he looked over at me and motioned me outside. I got up carefully, not wanting to wake the snoozing Abby and followed him outside. There were hard plastic seats lining the corridor and David motioned me to sit on one and he sat beside me.

‘Well, I asked, ‘was he as obnoxious as usual?’

‘N—no.’

‘What’s wrong, David?’

‘Look, I erm, wasn’t able to speak to Nigel. He wasn’t available.’

‘What do you mean wasn’t available; was he away or something?’

‘Sort of.’

‘Look, David, you’re talking in riddles. Please tell me what’s going on?’

‘As I say I wasn’t able to speak to him. You should concentrate on Olivia and the baby.’

I looked at David, He was hiding something, I just knew it––

‘David, you may be the best vicar since Jesus did that neat thing with the loaves and fishes, but you are not a good liar. Please tell me the truth. I’m a big girl now. Did he have a bit of a go at you? He does that, the bully.’

He looked at me, had some sort of internal struggle and just shrugged. ‘When I rang his home, Nigel didn’t answer, it was a policeman––’

‘–So they caught up with the slimy so-an’-so, I knew that in the end––’

‘–Listen, Sam, please. He–they–found him.’

‘What do you mean, found him?’

David, if anything had turned even paler.

‘He was dead–on his bed and had been stabbed several times–’

And now the story continues…

I looked at David, not believing what I was hearing.

‘What?’

‘It’s true. The police very much want to speak to Olivia. There were signs in the house that she left in a hurry, taking Nigel’s car. They wouldn’t tell me any more, but I had to tell them where she is and the condition she’s in. The local police will probably be here very shortly.’

I sat there in silence, stunned at what I had heard. I couldn’t believe it–Nigel dead and Olivia a suspect. The blood on her dress, could it possibly be Nigel’s? It seemed very likely.

‘Oh God, David, what if she––’

He put a strong arm around me as I started sobbing again…this was getting all too much for me. ‘Look, you don’t know what happened and are assuming an awful lot. The only thing to do is to wait until she can talk to you or the police about it.’

‘I—I w—w—wondered w—why she came to me. She must have found out where I was and came to me. Was I the only person she could trust, even after all the heartache and the divorce hanging over us?’

‘She came to you because she knows that you are a good person, possibly the only one who she could trust. There are a lot of things we need to know and we will have to wait–’

The door to the waiting room opened and Abby and Jocasta came out, blinking in the harsh lights of the corridor.

‘What’s wrong?’ Jo asked, looking at her husband.

‘We’ve had some bad news,’ he said as I let go of him and ran to Abby, falling into her arms. After I calmed down a bit, we all went back into the waiting room and David explained all the terrible things that had happened.

‘My God, the creep has finally got what was coming to him,’ Abby exploded.

‘Abby, you shouldn’t say that!’

‘Why not, David? He lived by the sword and he died by the sword and what was that thing about an eye for an eye? He caused a great deal of suffering to a lot of people, including, I suspect, Olivia; so you won’t see any crocodile tears from me!’

‘Stop it, please!’ I cried, ‘Olivia’s in there fighting for her and her baby’s lives, please stop all this–this, arguing.’

Everyone went quiet then. Jocasta gave David the evil eye and I noticed that Abby looked slightly guilty about her outburst. The doors swung open and a very tired-looking Marcia came out. She looked at me and smiled gently.

‘Well?’ I asked.

‘Olivia’s sleeping and the baby has been transferred to an incubator. She is quite underdeveloped, but we have hopes.’

‘She?’

‘Yes, it’s a girl. She’s about three and a half pounds and needs help breathing. She’s having the best treatment possible and should be okay, but complications can arrive when children are born this prematurely, so we’ll just have to wait and see.’

‘And Olivia?’ I asked.

‘She’s poorly and we have had to give her some drugs to control her blood pressure and also given magnesium sulphate injections to help with controlling the Pre-eclampsia. She is asleep and will be until tomorrow. You should be able to visit then. The best thing you can do now is go home and have some rest–that’s what I’m doing!’

‘May I see the baby?’ I asked.

‘Yes, for a few moments. I’ll get a nurse to come and show you the way. But, Sam, you need rest; you still aren’t all that fit and this isn’t helping you, dear.’

‘I know, Marcia, I’ll go home soon–promise.’

‘Good girl. Well, ’night all.’

‘Marcia–thanks.’

She smiled. ‘All part of the service of Super Doc; you owe me a G&T, by the way.’

‘I’ll make sure it’s a double!’

After Marcia left, we said goodbye to Jo and David and they promised to call in the next day. I tried to thank them but got a bit choked up.

Abby and I followed the nurse, hand in hand, to see Olivia’s baby. As I walked into the IC baby unit, I was surprised at how quiet it was, just the beep, beep noises of the monitors and several incubators with tiny little babies in them. There was a nurse by each baby, constantly monitoring the condition of the baby in their care and it made me feel a bit humble at the miracles these people managed to perform every day by bringing many of the babies back from the brink.

We were led over to the far side of the room and as I looked at the tiny baby, wrapped in a white blanket, her tiny foot poking out of one end and an arm with a hand, sort of waving about at the other, I took in a deep breath. She was pretty in a wrinkled baby sort of way, with a few tufts of blond hair and a tiny button nose. She was small, too small and so very delicate with almost translucent skin. My eyes filled with tears as I watched the tiny thing and her struggle for life. She had a tube going up her nostril and a few other tubes in her arm and these together with some wires going under the blanket all emphasised the fact that she needed a lot of help to survive.

I looked at Abby and she, like me, was rather emotional at that point. I felt so sad for the tiny girl, brought into this world as a result of an affair, destined never to know her father or even her grandfather as she grew up. How Olivia would deal with having a baby, I didn’t know, I just hoped and prayed that she would have the opportunity.

‘Let’s go.’ I said perhaps a bit sharply.

I did not want to bond with this baby–I couldn’t, I mustn’t. She wasn’t mine and that was that… but I wanted to hold her and tell her that everything would be all right–NO!

I shook away such disturbing thoughts while we were ushered out by the nurse and slowly made our way back to the car. I think that Abby knew a little of how I was feeling, but didn’t say anything, for which I was truly grateful.

I noticed a couple of police cars with blue flashing lights at the hospital entrance and I guessed that the police were going to try and interview Olivia at the earliest opportunity. Not wanting to answer any questions, I was glad that we had left when we did.

At least the rain had stopped and the moon was full in the clearing sky. Abby took me back to her place and to be honest, I can’t remember too much of the journey back. We changed into clean nighties and wearily climbed into bed. Soon there were at least three cats surrounding us and I fell asleep to the tiny purrs of animals that had no idea what we had been through on this strangest of nights.

The next morning, I awoke rather late and the sun was well up in the sky and the day promised to be a warm one. Abby had already gone downstairs and I sat up in bed as she walked in with a welcoming morning mug of tea.

‘Drink this, love. I have spoken to the hospital and both mother and baby had a restful night.’

‘Thanks, honey.’ I said, and sipped the hot sweet drink.

‘I pretended that I was you, otherwise they wouldn’t have told me the time of day. I’m not good at deep manly voices but I did my best–remember, you are supposed to be a man, mind you, looking at you in that thin babydoll––anyway, there are two policemen parked outside her room and they’ve been there all night.’

‘Oh God, Abby, what a mess. I’m sorry to drag you into this. What do you see in me?’

‘Put your mug down.’

‘What?’

‘I said, “put your mug down,” you’ll spill it all over that nice white duvet cover.’

Puzzled, I did as she asked and she jumped on the bed and gave me a lovely long, lingering cuddle and a grade one, toe curling, French kiss.

After a few minutes of this, where I forgot what I was worried about or even what day of the week it was, she let go of me and leant back slightly.

‘Does that answer your question?’

‘What question?’

‘Good girl.’

After a hurried breakfast, we returned to the hospital; as we walked into the ward a very young, fresh faced Police Constable looked up and appeared to be rather puzzled.

‘I’m Samantha Smart.’

He looked down a list. ‘Sorry, are you Mrs Smart’s sister?’

I went a bit red in the face at that. ‘Erm no, husband, I’m a transsexual in transition.’

‘A trans…oh right, blimey, you’re a looker for a bloke. Oh Christ, sorry, not very PC am I?’

I smiled and managed to supress a giggle, thinking he was only PC as far as his job was concerned.

‘I’ll take that as a compliment; may I see my wife?’

‘Yea, sure, the guv’s in with ’er at the moment–’

‘Guv?’

‘Yes, Chief Inspect Gideon of the Yard. Your wife woke up about an hour ago. The nurses are a bit steamed up as she needs the rest, but in murder cases, we need to find out things fast, oh blimey, I’ve said too much–’

Abby snorted in a rather unladylike manner. ‘Oh, Trevor, you’re a ‘proper nana.’

‘Now, Abby, don’t you going sayin’ that to an officer of the law.’

‘Sam, this is PC Trevor Stephens, I went to school with his elder brother. I remember you, Trev, when you were in nappies.’

‘I don’t remember that. All I do know is that you used to boss me around something rotten. Anyway, I would prefer that you don’t tell that to the big cheese in there, or anything that might be taken down and used in evidence against me.’

‘What are you wittering on about, Trev, you haven’t said a single sensible thing to us yet. Now dish the dirt. Who killed the rat?’

‘You mean the deceased murder victim. We aren’t sure yet, that’s why Mrs Smart’s being interviewed.’

Just then the door opened and a man came out. He wore a slightly crumpled suit and had a decidedly “CID” look about him, you know–slightly shabby, seen everything, world weary, probably has a strange past, drove an old Jag and loved classical music–that sort of thing. The fact that our Trev stood to attention and saluted him sort of gave the game away too.

The man looked at us inquisitively.

‘You are?’ he asked.

‘Pardon?’ I answered.

‘Sorry, it’s been one of those days. I’m Chief Inspect Gideon. Are related to Mrs Smart?’

‘I’m her husband,’ I replied. He looked at me and his eyebrows lifted a centimetre.

‘Okaaay, and you, madam?’

‘I’m her lover,’ Abby replied chirpily. I nearly cracked up at that. We were pushing his buttons and he knew it. What was all that about keeping a low profile? Well a low profile hadn’t helped me much up to now, so what the hell.

He rubbed his eyes with his hand and I felt somewhat sorry for him.

‘Can you spare a few minutes for some questions?’ he asked.

‘How is Olivia?’

‘Asleep, I couldn’t get anything out of her. The sister says that she may not wake up until later, so I thought I would like this opportunity to ask you a few questions, if that’s all right?’

‘Okay.’

‘The Sister has kindly let me use an empty room so shall we go?’

We followed him across the corridor and into a room. It had a bed in it and some chairs. I sat down in one and he sat down in another.

‘Would you mind waiting outside, Miss?’ he said to Abby.

‘Oh, right, okay. I’ll go and get Trev a coffee or something.’

‘You know the constable?’

‘Yes, we go way back, nice boy.’

‘If you say so, Miss.’

Abby winked at me and left the room, shutting the door behind her.

‘Right, erm, Mr erm Mrs…what do you want me to call you?’

‘Samantha will do, Chief Inspector.’

‘Right, err–okay–’ He shuffled a few papers on a desk, took a notebook from his jacket and picked up a pen.

‘I’ll just make a few notes for now but will need you to go to the local police station at some point to do a formal statement.’

‘Okay, but can you tell me what happened?’

‘In a bit, first can I ask you some questions?’

‘Go ahead.’

‘Please tell me what happened last night at your cottage–’

I told him everything about finding Olivia outside in the pouring rain and getting her to the hospital. He then asked about our marriage and didn’t seem very surprised that we were in the process of a divorce. I had to tell him that the baby wasn’t mine and I wondered why I felt a stab in my heart when I said that. He already knew about the poison-pen letters my friends and I had been receiving and I wondered in passing, why he looked so surprised when I had told him who I was.

After about half an hour he ran out of questions, so I asked a few of my own. ‘So, can you tell me what happened?’

‘Well it is under investigation so we can’t discuss all aspects but essentially, we received a phone call from a hysterical woman to say that Nigel Manning had been stabbed. When my colleagues arrived, there was no sign of Mrs Smart and we found Mr Manning on the bed. He had been stabbed several times and was naked. We don’t know who killed him yet, but Mrs Smart is a prime suspect as she had evidently had blood on her dress. We will need to see the dress by the way. Is it at your home?’

‘Yes, we had to strip her because she was soaked to the skin. But if she did kill Nigel, it was probably justified.’

He looked at me through his slightly bushy eyebrows.

‘Yes, we know all about Mister Nigel Manning. He has quite a few enemies, so I won’t only be looking at Mrs Smart as a suspect.’ He looked at his watch. ‘Right, I have a few things to do. Can I send a constable around to pick up the dress?’

‘Yes, he can let himself in; the key’s under the mat.’

He shook his head. ‘And you wonder why there are so many burglaries?’

‘Not here, Chief Inspector. We have an informal Neighbourhood Watch and not much gets missed by the locals around here.’

‘You may be right,’ he sighed as he got up and shook my hand. ‘I’ll be in touch.’

As he left the room, I had to ask; ‘Chief Inspector?’

‘Yes?’

‘Why did you seem surprised when you saw me?’

He looked a bit embarrassed and then sighed. ‘Well, I knew about you, of course, but expected to see a bloke in a dress, not an attractive young woman–anyway, I must dash–’ With that he left and, smiling, I went to find Abby.

She was standing with Trevor at the door of Olivia’s room and they were sharing some sort of joke. Abby glanced at me and smiled as I approached.

‘Spanish Inquisition over?’ she asked.

‘Nobody expects the Spanish inquisition, but anyway, he’s not such a bad chap.’

‘You didn’t tell him about anything I, erm, might have said?’ Trevor asked, anxiously.

‘No, your indiscretions are safe with us. I must go and see Olivia, want to come?’ I asked, looking at Abby.

‘No, honey, you go, I’ll wait here and carry on tormenting Trevor about his childhood–’

I knocked and entered, leaving Abby with a gleam in her eye and a Trevor who looked decidedly uncomfortable,

The slight smile on my face was wiped off at the sight of Olivia. Like her baby, she had tubes and leads all over her. The monitor was beeping and although her eyes were half open, she was far from awake.

The nurse, sitting on a stool at the end of the bed, was writing something on a chart and then looked up.

‘Are you Samantha?’ she asked smiling.

‘Yes.’

‘I’ve been told about you.’

‘Nothing bad I hope?’

‘No…anyway. I’ll leave you alone for a while. I can monitor her vitals from the nurses’ station for a bit, but don’t be too long.’

‘Is she awake?’

‘She keeps drifting in and out. Ring on that bell if you need me.’

‘Thanks.’ I said as she left the room, closing the door quietly and I went over to the bed and sat down beside her.

I hesitated for a minute, looking at her very pale face and then I leaned across and held her hand. For a few seconds nothing happened and then her eyes fluttered open and looked into mine. She smiled. ‘Hello, Tom, you look pretty.’

I didn’t feel particularly pretty and I didn’t correct her calling me “Tom”. I don’t think that she would ever see me as Samantha, but all that didn’t matter to me now.

‘How–how’s the baby?’

‘Small, but she’s a fighter.’

‘Good, I want her to live sooo much.’ Her eyes closed for a moment and then opened again. ‘My head’s splitting–’

‘–I’ll call the nurse–’

‘–No, don’t go, they gave me some pain killers a few minutes ago. Is that policeman still here?’

‘No, he’s gone off somewhere.’

‘I pretended to be asleep; I didn’t want to speak to him yet. I wanted to explain to you first.’

‘Why me; why did you come to me?’

She took a deep breath then winced a bit–she was obviously in some pain and I couldn’t do much about it.

‘When I saw Daddy lying on the bed, with all that blood, I nearly fainted. I cuddled him for a moment and then he died. Then I sort of panicked–not wanting whoever did that to him to come back and kill me and the baby–so I ’phoned the police and just left. I used Daddy’s car because it’s powerful and had a full tank. I was so numb, I couldn’t even cry. I just drove and drove. Then the headaches started and I felt pains all over. I managed to carry on though after a bit of a sleep at a service station. I wanted to get to you, because you’re the only good person I know–’ She stopped for a moment and took a few deep breaths.

‘I’ll call the nurse––’

–‘NO! Please, Tom, let me finish.’ She seemed to pull herself together and then continued. ‘I need to tell you, so please don’t interrupt. I’ve treated you terribly, I know that. Those other men didn’t mean anything to me. Something you don’t know is about the abortions.’

‘I do know about them––’

‘–Yes, but what you do not know is that Daddy was the father. He used and abused me, but he was my Daddy and I still loved him. Why? I don’t know. He started having sex with me when I was fifteen and, believe it or not, I thought that it was normal–I just didn’t know anything else–I was so naíve sexually. I should have been on the pill or he should have used condoms but he wanted to prove how big a man he was and that he could still produce offspring. He said we shouldn’t keep the babies because they would be deformed as we were too closely related. He probably just wanted to hide the evidence. I was weak, and should have been stronger, but I wasn’t. Then you came into my life and things started to get better. You were a cross dresser and I didn’t mind that and could live with it. Let’s face, it my upbringing was far from normal so whatever ‘hobby’ like that you had was okay by me.’

Once again she stopped and blinked as if the lights overhead were hurting her eyes. I gave her some water as her voice was beginning to sound croaky. I wanted to say something but I couldn’t I was so shocked at what she was saying. She seemed to want to get all the bad stuff off her chest and if that would help her recovery, I would wait until she finished before saying anything.

‘Then…Then you started dressing more and more. I couldn’t understand it. I thought that it was just a bit of fun with you, but it wasn’t; you wanted to be a girl–a blind person could see that. I got jealous because you looked so pretty when dressed as a woman, and I felt that I wasn’t married to a man any more–I was married to an attractive woman. Daddy didn’t know about this and I had been sworn to secrecy about our earlier, what he called indiscretions. I needed a man who I could have a bonk with–as you know, my sex drive is very strong–so I had a number of affairs, but I didn’t want to have anyone’s baby but yours.’

The nurse then came in. ‘Are you alright?’ she asked.

‘Yes, I've got a headache, but it’s not so bad now.’

‘Well, your blood pressure is getting slightly elevated so I’ll call the doctor in a minute.’ With that she left, telling me not to tax or tire the patient.

Olivia continued as if the nurse had never come in.

‘I—I t—told Daddy that you weren’t man enough for me and I had had sex with others. He said that perhaps your sex drive was low or as he put it, you were firing blanks. This gave me an idea: I persuaded you to go to have a sperm count, remember?–and you were told that you had a low sperm count. Well, unknown to you, I had bribed the clinic to hold back some of your sperm for later use–I am my daddy’s daughter, you know. You have to understand that I would and could not have sex with you again with you dressed as a woman. I had hoped you would have stopped if I had asked, because I wanted my Tom to be a man and not some poor excuse for a woman, forever wanting to be dressed as a female–I know how much of a grip it has on you. So, you see I thought that if I had your baby by artificial insemination, you would stop this nonsense for the sake of the baby and be a man. So I went to the clinic, got inseminated by your sperm and waited to see if it took. Luckily it did, and I fell pregnant, but I still had this insatiable drive to have naughty sex and that was when you caught me in bed with someone. It was to be the last one, I promise, before I told you of my little deception and that we were going to be parents. Then it all went pear-shaped and you left me and my life unravelled–’

She began to cry and all I could do was cuddle her. I was numb and totally shocked by her revelation. Tears were streaming down my cheeks and she was shuddering violently. Dimly, I was aware of some alarms jangling and within seconds, the room was full of staff and I was bundled hurriedly out of the room. Abby, standing by Trevor, saw my face and immediately came and embraced me. Shortly afterwards, I found myself in a waiting room with Abby sitting by me, hugging me tightly.

It appears that Olivia had had a severe stroke and was in a coma. Marcia arrived shortly afterwards and after a quick hug, she went to see what was going on. My brain ached with all that had gone on and what I had been told. I could not believe what Nigel had done to Olivia and I hoped sincerely that he would rot in hell. Sadly, Olivia suffered through being the daughter of a perverted and repellent father, so no way could I find it in my heart to blame her for what she did.

Thirty minutes later, Marcia came in and sat beside me. Immediately, I understood from her solemn expression that her news was not good.

‘Sam, I’m so very sorry, my dear; she’s gone–’

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To Be Continued...

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.