Land of My Heart - Chapter 7

Printer-friendly version
Aussie cattle station.jpg
Land of My Heart

A novel by Bronwen Welsh

The sequel to 'A Foreign Country'


Chapter Seven    'To Thine Own Self be True'

Tuesday

Today was the second time I visited John and Mark, my friends in Brisbane. As promised, I arrived earlier today with an Esky* packed with selected cuts of beef and I was looking forward to seeing the look on Mark's face when he opened it. I plan to stay in Brisbane for three days and this meant that at dinner this evening I could share the bottle of wine I brought along when we first had dinner together, since I wouldn't be within my self-imposed 'no alcohol within forty-eight hours of flying' limit.

I confess that since my first visit I have been thinking quite a lot about Mark and how feminine he looked, wondering if he or John was going to reveal more as I got to know them better?

I had confirmed with John that he would be picking me up at the hotel at six o'clock, and I spent a pleasant few hours bathing, dressing and doing my hair, ready to look my best for the evening ahead. I was nearly ready to take the lift down to the foyer when I received a telephone call from John. He was very apologetic, but an urgent matter at work was going to delay him for at least an hour.

"It's not a problem," I said, "Look, why don't I take a taxi to your flat? That will save you having to detour to the hotel."

John agreed that this was the best option and said he would ring Mark and let him know what was happening.

I had the Esky strapped to a small luggage trolley with wheels since it was quite heavy, and perhaps it looked a little odd when, dressed in an evening gown and heels, I arrived with the Esky in tow in the foyer, but apart from a few curious glances, nothing was said. The taxi driver kindly lifted it into the boot of the car, and I slipped into the front passenger seat of the car. He glanced at me curiously.

"Going somewhere special?" he asked.

"I'm going to dinner with friends," I replied. I could tell he was itching to ask what was in the Esky, but I decided to tease him by saying nothing about it.

In no time we were at the door of John and Mark's flat. The driver kindly lifted the Esky out of the car boot and I rewarded him with a generous tip for manhandling it for me. There are some advantages in being a woman! I rang the bell and Mark answered the door.

"Hello Lesley, it's so good to see you!" he exclaimed in that light tenor, almost woman's voice, and kissed me on the cheek. "My, what have you got there?"

"It's the meat I promised you," I replied, handing over the handle of the trolley to Mark to manoeuvre inside. Once he wheeled it into the kitchen and opened the lid, his reaction was all I could have hoped for.

"Thank you so much, it's so generous of you," he said.

"Nonsense, it didn't cost me anything and you and John have been more than generous with your hospitality. This is just a small way of saying 'thank you'.

Mark informed me that he was preparing a Chinese meal, which was just as well as John was delayed, and he could start cooking when we knew he was on his way.

“Would you like a cup of coffee or tea while we are waiting?" he asked and I said tea would be fine.

"Actually, I rather glad in a way that John had been delayed because it gives me a chance to talk to you," Mark said.

We took our cups of tea into the lounge-room and sat on the couch together and I waited for him to begin. He looked slightly uncomfortable and I could tell this was going to be personal. I even had a slight inkling what it might be.

"Lesley," he began, "You know that John is the man of the house here, and I, well I'm not. I'm his partner and I love him dearly, and he loves me too. For some time I’ve wanted to discuss something very personal with someone I can trust, someone other than John. Of course I have friends here whom I’ve known longer than you, but if they reacted badly, I could easily become a laughing-stock. Somehow I know you won't react that way.” He stopped and took a deep breath. “Alright, I'll stop beating about the bush - have you ever heard of transgendered people because that's what I think I am." He looked anxiously at me to see my reaction.

From the moment he started to speak, right up to the moment he came out with the words I had the strongest feeling that I knew what was coming, and remembering back how it had been for me and how much I had benefited from the support and help of my dear friend Jenny, I decided to do all that I could to support him in turn.

"I've not only heard of transgendered people, but I actually knew one a long time ago," I replied.

"Really? That's wonderful, so you know that they're not, not...."

"Not transvestites or drag queens," I finished for him.

"That's right," he replied, "Now you know why I couldn’t tell my friends, but somehow I knew you’d understand.”

"So are you in the process of transitioning?" I asked "And if so, how far along the path are you?"

"I haven't actually started," he said. "Perhaps I'm luckier than most since I know my body already has some feminine characteristics. I think my voice has too."

"That's true. In fact to be honest when I first saw you I couldn't help thinking that wearing a dress and make-up you would look like a very pretty young woman."

He was blushing now and I decided to play the hunch I already had.

"In fact would I be wrong in thinking that's how you do appear on occasions?"

"Nearly every evening," he replied, "Except like today when we have a visitor."

"And how does John feel about it?" I asked, although I suspected I knew the answer.

"Oh he's fine about it. Like I said, he's the man of the house and I'm, well I'm the woman, and never more so than when I’m dressed as one."

"And is he fine about it if you decide to totally transition?" I asked.

"We've discussed it many times. If he wasn't happy about it I wouldn't even consider it, because I love him and would never do anything to lose him. However he says he wants me to do what is right for me."

" 'To thine own self be true'," I murmered. "Shakespeare has a quote for everything."

Mark crossed to the sideboard and took an enlarged picture from a drawer and handed it to me. A gorgeous young woman in a pretty dress smiled into the camera and it didn't need Mark to tell me who I was looking at.

"Well I see I was right," I said, "You look amazing."

Mark was blushing happily at my compliments. Then I had an idea.

"Since you normally dress in the evening and John is delayed, how do you feel about dressing now?"

"You don't mind?"

"Of course not. I mean your picture is wonderful, but to see you in the flesh as it were, would be even better."

"Alright, I will," he said and started to walk towards the bedroom, but I called him back.

"There's just one thing - I can't possibly call you Mark when you are dressed. What will your name be then?"

"Oh it's Melissa, do you like it?"

"Yes I do, it's a very pretty name," I replied, and he flashed a smile at me and disappeared into the bedroom.

'Be careful girl,' I said to myself as I sat on the couch and waited for Melissa to appear. 'Remember that the transgendered girl you are talking about is Mandy, not you, and don't reveal too much about her.'

For about ten minutes I glanced through a copy of 'Vanity Fair' that was lying on the little table next to the couch, and then I heard the bedroom door open. Melissa was standing there, wearing the same pretty dress she had worn in the picture. Her long blonde hair was now brushed and framed her face. Her makeup was not too pronounced, a common mistake with apprentice girls, and she was wearing stockings and black court shoes with about four inch heels. She looked very nervous.

"How do I look?" she said, almost like a soldier presenting for inspection by the sargeant-major.

"My dear, you look like a million dollars," I replied.

---------------------------------------

About fifteen minutes later we we were standing in the kitchen, two women chatting, when the front door opened.

"I'm home at last," called out John as he walked down the little hallway. "Hi Lesley, hi Ma...Melissa?"  The last word of the sentence had turned into a question.

"Hi John," I said, "I did my best to dress up for the evening, but I've been rather overshadowed by the hostess."

Melissa laughed "You are the most glamorous woman I've ever met," she said and now it was my turn to blush.

"Well I do the best I can for an old chook," I replied.

John approached us and first kissed me on the cheek and then Melissa on the lips. “I’m so glad you told Lesley about yourself,” he said quietly.

“Well after she showed me her picture, I couldn’t wait to see her in real life,” I said.

Melissa now put on an apron to protext her dress and set about cooking the Chinese meal she had devised, and like the previous dinner I had enjoyed there, it was truly excellent. We shared the spectacular bottle of wine I had brought along previously, and it lived up to its reputation, and fortunately matched the meal very well.

We engaged in small-talk during the meal, but afterwards as we sat on the comfortable chairs in the lounge room with our port and coffees, the talk turned to more serious matters.

"John, Lesley actually knew a person who transitioned and she's offered to help me with advice on what I have to do," said Melissa.

"That's wonderful Lesley," said John, "You really are like an angel who's come into our lives."

Natually I blushed at that, but secretly I felt good that although I hadn't been able to tell John the truth about himself, I could perhaps make up for it by helping Melissa on her journey to full womanhood.

“Firstly I have to tell you that the girl I knew underwent full transition, but she keeps a very low profile, so I know you’ll understand that I can’t tell you her name or how I came to meet her, or even too much about her present life. I met her from time to time and did the best I could to support her in what is a long and at times difficult journey, but I’m sure you realise that Melissa? I will be happy to do what I can for you too if you want me too. Remember that some people in your situation decide that after all it’s not for them, and there is no shame in that.

“The first thing you must do Melissa is to see your GP, dressed as a woman of course, and tell him or her that you want to be referred to a specialist in what's called 'gender dysphoria'. I know it's a term that makes it sound like something is wrong with you, but nothing could be further from the truth. If you can make the appointment while I'm still in Brisbane, I'd be happy to come along with you for moral support. I have to tell you though that this is the first step in a long journey. You will have to live full-time as a woman for more than a year, and that means at work too. How do you think the company you work for will react to the news?"

"I'm not sure," replied Melissa, "I can only ask them. I'm working in an office situation now as a law clerk, and all the rest of the staff are women. They know I'm gay, and they seem to treat me as 'one of girls' anyway. I'm not sure about my boss though."

"Well I'm afraid there's no getting around it if you want to stay there. Also you will have to go through intimate medical examinations and answer probing questions and it's only if you pass all the assessments that they will put you on hormones. Then you will have to deal with the effects they will have on your body and mind."

"Melissa," said John, "This is entirely your choice. I will still love you and want to be with you no matter what decision you take."

I felt as though I shouldn't really be there in what was an intimate moment between two people who obviously loved each other very much.

I know that John," said Melissa, "but if I don't try I will always wonder what might have been."

It was getting late and time for me to return to my hotel. Melissa promised to ring me tomorrow if she can get a doctor’s appointment. She rarely sees a doctor, although that’s certainly about to change, and she goes to a clinic which has about ten doctors on the staff. I suggested she might feel more comfortable seeing one of the women doctors if she can.

I do hope I'm doing the right thing here. There is a risk that she might guess that there is more to me than I am telling, but it's a risk I feel comfortable in taking.

To be continued

* 'Esky' is the brand name of an insulated portable cooler used for carrying chilled food or drinks, but is now adopted as a generic term for any brand of cooler.

---------------------------------------------------

Image credit: Australian cattle station by Harris Walker reproduced under Creative Commons licence with attribution.

up
153 users have voted.
If you liked this post, you can leave a comment and/or a kudos! Click the "Thumbs Up!" button above to leave a Kudos

Comments

Esky?

Bronwen,

I am continuing to enjoy your story but your northern hemisphere readers may be puzzled by 'Esky'.
Wikipedia came to my rescue apparently 'the term 'esky' has become a genericized trademark in Australia, being used colloquially to refer to any type of cooler.'

Louise

Esky

You are right Louise, 'Esky' is a brand name but is now used to describe any type of portable cooler in much the same way as 'Biro' was used to describe any type of ballpoint pen, and maybe still is in the UK? Incidently, in New Zealand I am reliably informed that the same item is called a 'chilly bin'.

As John said, it may be a

As John said, it may be a really good thing that Leslie has come into their lives. She can assist Melissa in ways that he can not, being a male. Having Leslie for support, Melissa may feel a lot stronger in her actions regarding starting with the medical aspects of her potential transition; from the initial doctor visit and on to completion. Perhaps Leslie will find job support for Melissa if her current position is pulled out from under her. All in all, a very nice story.

The misconception

another great chapter, in the main the misconception that when you come out to people as being transgendered they seem to think you are automatically gay this couldn't be further from the truth.

Lesley will have to be careful if she is to go along letting John think that John Brodie was his Dad.

Hugs from Carla:)

ROO

Land of my heart

Alright, I've got a fresh box of Kleenex, I'm ready if this is like the last one.