Coming out from undercover - Part 9 -Finale

Mary and I spent three days talking about everything to do with us. One sticking point was her son and another possibly bigger one was her parents. How they’d accept me was a big unknown. She had her doubts that they would accept me and it was fairly obvious that she was being torn apart internally over the subject. She talked very little about it but I could tell that it might tear us apart. How that would affect me was concerning but I knew that… well, what would happen, would.

We also discussed our futures. I had the job offer from Sir Richard but there was still the issue of Mary/Caitlin’s future and where were would be based.

It was clear that both of us had become somewhat disillusioned with the Police or at least our current roles within the force. It was also clear, that we were outsiders despite the best efforts of ACC Bishop to drag the Met Police into the 21st Century. That made us reluctant to commit to them for our future careers. It was far easier for me to accept that I was done with the Police because of my gender issues.

We went for walks in the local area armed only with an Ordnance Survey map and a compass. A couple of times we got soaked but after being in London it really didn’t matter all that much.

As we looked out onto the surrounding countryside from Holmbury Hill and the clouds that meant that it was about to rain on us, I said to Mary,

“I really am done with London and the TP.”

She chuckled at my use of her nickname for most of the people we worked with, ‘Testosterone Police’.

“I’m starting to feel much the same way. This is much more like mountains of County Down,” came her reply as she looked into the distance with watery eyes as the first spots of rain came down.

I could tell that she was missing her son. I’d never seen that side of her before. The brave face that she’d worn every day in the office was long gone. This mission has really changed both of us.

At the end of three days, all our discussions became a lot more complicated with the arrival on the scene of Max. He came to dinner with his sister.

After dinner, he took us aside and got down to business.

“There is bad news and good news. Which do you want first?”

I looked at her and she looked at me. Neither of us said anything.

“The bad it is then,” said Max.

“The CPS has dropped the kidnapping charge against you.”

“Eh?” was my reaction.

“They want to keep as much of my operation and methods under wraps as possible,” came his curt reply.

That made perfect sense. The less said about how we were placed undercover the better.

“But you will both be expected to give evidence. The CPS has… shall we say suggested that you don’t be seen together in public before the trial. The defence council will want to make an issue of you two living together and becoming shall we say involved.”

We both looked rather sad at this bit of news.

“What’s the good news?”

“The CPS wants you two kept under wraps until the trial. You are welcome to stay here. It is pretty private and so far, none of the media has got wind of where you are. There are some rather unscrupulous people in the media and on social media who would love to get their Advert ratings up with a juicy story about you two and nooky and everything. That red hair of yours is a dead give-away.”

“That’s good news?”

“Yes. In a way it is. I have a selection of wigs for you to wear when out and about. I have arranged for them to be put in your room. I take it that you are sleeping together?”

We didn’t need to answer. He knew it already.

“The Met have agreed to keep paying your salary until after the trials. It would not look good for you to be asked your occupation when you get to give evidence only for you to say ‘former police officer’.”

“When will the trial be?” I asked.

“More than likely in five or six months’ time. They will both be remanded for trial at the Bailey in a couple of weeks. We’ll know then when it is scheduled for. That gives us time to prep you for the inevitable grilling that you will get when on the stand.”

“No chance of a guilty plea then?”

Max laughed.
“At the moment no. The case against Daniel Carpenter is rock solid. The evidence from his trophy cabinet and the cellar will be enough to put him away. We found Sergeant Pratt’s fingerprints on many of the jars and elsewhere inside the trophy cabinet. That will be good enough for the CPS to charge him with Accessory to Murder. Twelve counts of that will be enough to send him away for a long time let alone the charges from his assault on you. However, the CPS is hoping that they will see sense and take a guilty plea. Carpenter is going away for the rest of his life. Mr Pratt should get twelve to fifteen years if they do otherwise, the CPS has indicated that they will be looking for twenty five plus if it goes to trial.”

I felt relieved at the news but sad that it appeared that I’d be stuck here for at least six months.

Max turned to Mary,
“I suggest that you go and visit your son. Take him on Holiday or something. We’d like you to change your hair and clothes though. Blend into the background so to speak.”

Mary hesitated for a bit but reluctantly agreed to his suggestion.

“I’ll need to brief you before you go over to Ulster though.”

Then he turned to me.

“What about you Tamara?”

“I… I can’t sit around here until the trial.”

Max smiled.
“Good girl…”

Then he stunned me by saying,
“Are you ready to start work as a PA? Everyone thinks that it is the perfect cover. Nothing like hiding in Plain Sight now is there?”

“I.. I… I don’t know?”
Then my brain got into gear.
“What about this?” I said fingering my hair.

Max grinned and said,
“Don’t worry, my people will take care of that. They’ll help you find the right wig.”

Then with a perfectly straight face I said,
“The red hair stays ok!”

Max laughed.
“That goes without saying.”

“What about the people at Wells St? They know me and can put two and two together?”

Richard was very blunt in his reply.
“All of them have signed contracts that include non-disclosure clauses. They know what will happen if they rat you out to the press and besides, you two aren’t the first high profile case that has been through our hands. They know the score and will keep quiet.”

A few days later, Max’s ‘people’ did their magic and my red locks were covered by a brown shoulder length wig. Well, a wig and a couple of hair pieces that were ‘to give it volume Darling…’.

Saying goodbye to Mary at Gatwick Airport was difficult. Neither of us had a dry eye. As she walked through security, I wondered if I’d ever see her again.

To compensate for her absence, I threw myself into becoming the next PA for Sir Richard.
To his credit, he was a very patient boss. His outgoing PA Bronwyn, took me under her wing and not only showed me the ropes of the job but made sure that I looked the part.

That meant several shopping trips to various higher end shops all over Surrey and Sussex. If I had thought that the clothes that I had bought for my receptionist’s job were expensive, the ones now hanging in my wardrobe put them into the shade, a very deep shade. One top cost Sir Richard more than two hundred quid. Before… Before I’d never spent that on a suit let alone just a top! Don’t even get me started on the shoes.

After just three shopping trips, the order of the day was to dress as a PA. Hair, makeup, everything. This took my girly experience to a whole different level. To my embarrassment, I loved it. So much so, I began to think of what to wear for the following day as I prepared for bed the night before.

The big downside was that the powers that be had decided that Mary and I should not contact each other by email, text or phone. There was always a risk that the records could be ordered to be produced in evidence at the trial.

It was Sir Richard who came to the rescue. After nearly two weeks of job instruction and shopping he came to me late one Monday afternoon.

“Well, Tamara are you ready for your first trip as my PA?”

“Eh?... Really?”

“Yes, really. Are you up for it?”

“If you think I’m ready… then yes I am.”

The butterflies in my stomach had turned into starving vultures feeding on a fresh carcass such was the turmoil.

“I do and so does everyone else who matters.”

“Well, then, we leave here at 06:00 sharp in the morning. Pack for five days plus some downtime clothes. The plan is that we get back here in time for Dinner on Saturday.”

“That’s a lot. I’ll probably pack far too much.”

“Don’t worry about the number of bags as we are flying on my jet.”

There clearly was no answer to that…

It was only later that evening I realised that I’d totally forgotten to ask where we were going. I shrugged it off knowing that I’d find out soon enough.

It wasn’t a long drive from Sir Richard’s home to Dunsfold Aerodrome. In the early morning light, I recognised it as the place where ‘Top Gear’ is filmed. Well, the presence of several large trucks with ‘BBC’ on the outside sort of gave the game away.

There were no formalities such as passport or customs so I guessed that we were heading for somewhere inside the UK. In my mind, I went through the list of current projects that Sir Richard was personally involved with. It came down to three.

“Well Tamara,” asked my boss as we buckled up in the plush cabin.
“Have to worked out where we are going yet?”

I smiled.

“It is likely to be one of Inverness, Teeside, Liverpool or Belfast. That’s where your current ‘hands on’ projects are located.”

“Good girl. First off, we are going to Belfast then Inverness and over to Aberdeen to scope some new work. That’s what we will be doing on Saturday. Less prying eyes and all that.”

My heartrate leapt up. Sir Richard noticed that.

“Yes, there might well be a chance for you to see her tomorrow,” he said smiling.
“But not a word to Max or you know who ok?”

I just nodded my head in understanding.

I couldn’t wait.

I didn’t see her the following evening as we had an important dinner to attend but the day after was free. Sir Richard was going to Lough Neagh for a spot of fishing with some business associates. He was not one to do business on the golf course but mention fishing and he’d be there in a flash. The result was that he gave me the use of his car for the day. By that, I mean the car plus the driver Patrick.

“Where to Miss?”

“Portrush please Patrick.”

“Lovely part of the world, the North Coast. My brother goes up there for the motorcycle races.”

“I’m meeting someone for lunch.”

“Sit back and enjoy the ride and let Patrick get you there safely,” came his reply as we left the hotel.

As we neared Portrush, I began to get a bit nervous. I hoped that Caitlin or Mary would be there. I’d called her but had only managed to leave a message on voicemail when I’d called from the Hotel.

Patrick stopped the car to let some cows cross the road. This gave him the opportunity to ask,
“Where to in Portrush Miss?”

“The Atlantic Hotel please.”

“I know where it is. Lovely views out over the sea.”

“Thanks,” I replied hoping that I didn’t sound too nervous.

We were early and after five minutes, I gave up pacing up and down in reception and went outside and did some deep breathing. The sea air was refreshing and it helped calm my nerves.

I was jerked out of my nervous fug by the arrival of a car.

Two people emerged from the car. It was Caitlin and her son.

She was smiling. No, she was grinning back at me.

I walked towards them trying to quell my nerves.

“Hello darling,” said Caitlin.

“Hello,” I replied slightly surprised by her welcome.

“Hello,” I said to her son.
“You must be Sean. I’ve heard so much about you from your Mother.”

“Sean, say hello to Tamara.”

“Hello Tamara,” said Sean slightly nervously.

“We have some time before our table, shall we walk?”

“I’d like that,” replied Caitlin.

We walked along the path near the cliffs with Sean holding both his mother’s and my hand.

“How are you?” I asked quietly.

“I’m good. No, I’m very good for seeing you again. I didn’t know how much I missed you until about half an hour ago.”

“Same here. I nearly had a panic attack when I got here. Then I saw you and it was panic over.”

I decided to change the subject.

“I didn’t expect you to have Sean with you?”

“Originally, I was going to come on my own but his school is closed today. Something about a training day for the staff so here we are.”

“It is nice to see him.”

“He wanted to see you once I’d told him about you.”


“Shall we sit for a minute?” she asked.

“Why not.”

We sat down and let Sean look at a Statue that was just a few yards away.

“You told him about me?”

“Yes,” replied Caitlin smiling.
“It was easy.”

“Easy? How?”

“Sean came to me a few days after I came back and said, ‘Mummy, why do I have to dress as a boy? I want to be a girl!’”


“Yeah. You could have knocked me for six.”

I chuckled.

“What’s wrong?”

“I was just thinking about how the old you would have reacted.”

“Don’t. Just don’t go there. I would… well, it is beyond thinking about… Thanks to you.”

She squeezed my hand.

“Are we going to be good? After all this is over?”

“I want it to be and I think it would be nice to have Sean living with us.”


“Would that be ok with you?”

“No… Sorry Yes. It is fine with me. Just a bit unexpected that’s all.”

“I know. It took me by surprise as well.”

“What about your parents? They were always going to be a problem with me, weren’t they?”

“Yes, they were but given Sean’s situation, it might be best for him to come to us but they want to meet you though.”

“Really? You seemed to paint your Father as a bit of an ogre?”

“He is… well was. He’s mellowed a bit once I told him about you and what you did. He thinks that you can’t be all bad because of what you did to catch the killer.”

“You played your part as well.”

“Humph. It was your show and you know it. I was there to play a role but…”
She squeezed my hand tighter and looked me in the eye.
“But it became a lot more than that. We both know that.”

I smiled at her and gave her a kiss.

We were interrupted by Sean.
“Yuk!” he said.

We both laughed.

“Shall we go and eat?”

“Yes, Mummy, can we eat? I’m hungry?”

It hurt me to leave them in the middle of the afternoon. I had to be back in Belfast by early evening as we were flying to Inverness. The presence of Sean meant that we couldn’t show our affection very openly.

Sean then surprised me by saying,
“Please come back soon Tamara. Mummy is much happier today than she’d been for a while. I don’t want to see Mummy unhappy.”

“Don’t worry Sean, I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

That was the last I saw of Caitlin until the trial of Dan Carpenter. Right up to the day it started, I was prepared to give evidence but at the last moment he changed his plea to ‘guilty’ and was spared.

There was no such luck with the other trial, that of Ian Pratt. He wasn’t going down without a fight. Thankfully, Caitlin would not have to give evidence in this trial. Most of the evidence was forensic and then my word against his. His legal team tried to get the recording of my altercation with him that had been made by the other officer Sadik, thrown out of evidence by saying that it was an illegal recording. Their Counsel was reminded that the police had the right to record what they were seeing as potential evidence as long as it was available to both sides before trial. As it was, their move was thrown out.

That opening salvo was likely to be nothing when compared to what I was likely to face when it was my turn to give evidence. There had been an increase in postings on Social Media in the weeks leading up to the trial that tried to paint me as everything from a modern day, Mata Hari to a for hire prostitute and then to a corrupt officer that was only going to testify for the money.

I had to laugh at the last one. I was out of pocket on the operation let alone waiting for riches galore to come my way.

Despite it all being a pack of lies, I became toxic within the force. No one would speak to me unless ordered to do so. Even my so-called friends from the squad avoided me on the few visits I’d made to HQ to prepare for the trial. That’s what you get for going up against a Sergeant, even a totally corrupt and evil, bully of a Sergeant.

My ordeal in the witness box began on day three of the trial. After the opening statements, the forensic evidence had been given. Then it was my turn.

Because of all the press and social media attention, some subterfuge was the order of the say. With Max’s help I arrived at the ‘Old Bailey’ dressed as a cleaner, some three hours before the court opened. I’d leave the same way sometime in the evening. I made myself ready in the ladies for my appearance and then waited in a room adjacent to the court. At times like these, a good book is the order of the day. That was something that we learned at Hendon.

At 10:05, I was summoned by a clerk to enter the courtroom. I took a deep breath and followed him.

I was dressed in a navy-blue trouser suit. I had on a fairly plain white blouse on under the jacket. My makeup was simple but effective. I wore plain leather shoes with a 1in heel. My only jewellery was a fake amber necklace and who plain earrings. Understatement was the order of the day. My vibrant red hair had been died again just a few days before. Despite some words from the prosecution team suggesting that I tone it down, I was having none of it.

After being sworn in, the questioning began. Well, it should have but the defence raised an objection.

“We think that this witness has lied about his name and occupation. We demand that he is charged with contempt of court.”

The prosecution barrister was prepared for this.

“We’d like to enter into evidence, the following items. Firstly, a record of a name change that was dated several weeks before the case in question came to a head. Secondly, the guidance document from the Home Office regarding how to address people who are transitioning and thirdly, a letter from the head of HR at the Met Police confirming that the name change is in order and that a new warrant card has been issued. Lastly, a certified copy of that warrant card.”

The Judge smiled as he examined the evidence.

He asked the prosecution barrister,
“What all this available to the defence before trial?”

“Yes, your Honour it was. These items are clearly identified on a list of evidence that was supplied to defence counsel. We have a signed copy of the list acknowledging their receipt of the list. A copy of that signed list was also lodged with the clerk of the court a week before the trial began. The fact that they didn’t bother to look at these items from us was not our doing.”

After about a second, he added,
“Or perhaps they did and ignored them?”

“Objection overruled.”

Then the judge said,
“If this is a foretaste of how this witness is to be treated then I will close you down. Understood?”

The defence barrister looked a bit shocked. He had probably not expected an admonishment so early on in my evidence.

“Yes M’Lord.”

“Good. Please continue.”

I was allowed by the prosecution to give details of how I was abducted and how I escaped from my cell. The tools I’d used were shown to me as evidence. I confirmed that they were the tools I’d used.

Then I told how I’d set a trap for Mr Carpenter and deliberately set off the alarm and how I’d called the Police using the ‘999’ service. The tape was played back and I confirmed that it was my voice.

I then told of how Sergeant Pratt arrived on the scene and how he addressed me even after I’d identified myself as a fellow officer. The recording made by his Constable was played to the court. I could see Mr Pratt glaring at me. I was sure that if he could of, he would have been out of the dock and trying to kill me such was his look of hatred.

I carried on telling my story. Each step was backed up by the evidence obtained from the scene.

Then it was time for my cross examination but that was saved by the judge.

“I think we will adjourn for lunch. We will begin again at one-thirty.”

I sighed and felt my heartrate drop considerably.

The Prosecution team made sure that I was kept well away from any of the media and even members of the public. I managed to eat something, I don’t know what though while sitting alone in the ante-room. Then it was time to go back into the lions den.

“Constable, why are you dressed as a woman when it is clear that you are a man?”

“Objection,” Cried the prosecution.
“It has already been presented to the court that this witness is a Transsexual and is in the middle of her transition.”

“I agree. Move along Mr Mallory. Remember my warning from earlier,” said the Judge.

That was totally ignored as was evident by the next question.

“Constable, are you gay?”

“Objection,” came the cry.

“Mr Mallory! One more trick like that and I’ll send you to the cells. You should know from your other appearances before me that I do not like witness intimidation and treat it as contempt of court. Do I make myself understood?”

“Yes M’ Lord. I was merely following the instructions of my client.”

“Just be careful with your questioning.”

Then he addressed the jury.
“Ladies and Gentlemen of the Jury. The sexuality or gender of the witness will have no effect on the validity or not of the testimony given by the witness. You are here to listen to the facts as presented to you in relation to the case.”

“Please continue.”

“Constable, did you falsify the evidence against my client? Did you plant his fingerprints on the glass jars that contained the human remains that were being kept by Daniel Carpenter as souvenirs of his crimes?”

“No Sir.”

“Come now Constable. It is on record that you that there was no love lost between you and my client. Wasn’t this an ideal opportunity to… to stitch him up?”

“No Sir. At no time was I alone with your client and furthermore, I never touched the cabinet containing the trophies which I might add was locked and Mr Carpenter had the only key which at the time of the incident with your client was locked in Mr Carpenters safe. This was as already shown to the court in a video of the safe being opened by the forensic team. I was long gone from the crime scene by then.”

“What did you feel when you saw who the officer was that had arrived at the crime scene?”

“Me? I felt sad.”

“Sad? Surely you thought that here was an opportunity to get one over on my client.”

“Objection,” said the Prosecution Barrister.
“Asked and answered”

“I agree,” said the Judge.
“Move along Mr Mallory.”

“According to the recording that we listened to earlier, it seemed that you were goading my client into violence by mentioning your time at Hendon together. Is this true?”

This was my opening. He’d brought up Hendon.

“If you mean by reminding him of his bullying while we were at Hendon, yes. Your client had it in for several of us from day one. He regarded us as not fit to be Police Officers. He went out of his way to make our life hell. One cadet had to drop out due to a broken arm that was caused by your client. Before you object, there is no proof but everyone else know who’s done it. Your client is a bully. I’m sure that everyone at Hendon with us would welcome the chance to come to this court and testify to that fact. Everyone, of them that are no longer Police Officers that is. There are some that see testifying against a senior officer as career suicide. I don’t as once we are done with this case, I will be leaving the Police to pursue another line of employment.”

“Oh, and what exactly is that?”

“I’m not at liberty to say.”

“Why? Is that because no one will employ someone like you?”

“That is not true. My future employer has asked that I do not reveal who they are for business reasons. Besides, that is the future. Aren’t we supposed to be talking about events that are in the past?”

He looked a bit shocked that I’d attacked him back. The three weeks of preparation for the trial was paying off.

“How much money will you be getting from the rewards that were offered for the capture of the killer, Daniel Carpenter?”

I was momentarily stunned by his change of direction.

“Come on now Constable. Can’t you count all that filthy lucre in all those offshore tax haven accounts?”

“I have received nothing and never will. Any money that might possibly come my way, should be donated to the families of the victims. I do not want any money or as you put it, ‘filthy lucre’ from the rewards. Anyone who offers me money will be told to get lost or words to that effect.”

That caused some tittering in the court. The judge let it go.

“What about the court case you have against several national newspapers and the innocent mother of your child?”

“I am not at liberty to discuss that case here. Apart from reiterating my statement that I am not the father of the child in question.”

I looked at the Judge for support.

“Move along please. I have already told you in Chambers that discussing the detail of that case was off limits and not relevant to this case.” Said the Judge.

And so, it went on for the rest of the afternoon and most of the following morning. The Defence Barrister tried as hard as he could to blacken my name and reputation but failed. At the end, the Judge said,
“You may step down Constable.”

If I could have found a bed right there and then, I was sure that I would have slept for days. Sadly, there was no bed and I had to be smuggled out of the court later in the day. Even three hours after the case had been adjourned for the day, there were still people from the media waiting to try to interview me.

That night I was back at Sir Richards. My day became complete when Caitlin greeted me with a long, long kiss.

“I hear that you gave as good as you got then?”

“I hope I did,” I replied.
“The CPS thinks that it will go to the Jury next Tuesday.”

“Do you think he’ll go down?”

“I effing hope so. Either way, he’s done for in the force. Godzilla’s Deputy was in court and collared me after I’d given evidence. Apparently, Godzilla was none too happy with the way that his brief tried to slag me off.”

“That’s good.”

“Small mercies.”

“Will you be glad to be done with all that?”

“Yes and no. I always wanted to be a Policeman but doing what we did changed my mind.”

“Mine too,” said Caitlin.

“I thought that you were thinking of going back to the squad? Godzilla said that she’d make the boss take you back.”

“I know that I left it all up in the air but I’m not going back to the Met. I’ve put in for a transfer to Surrey as a Traffic Officer. That is if you approve?”

“Of course, I approve but where are we going to live? It is important if Sean is going to live with us?”

Caitlyn smiled.

“The Guildford Traffic Police Depot is situated between Bramley and Shalford. That is about seven miles from here. Sarah also said that there is a cottage on the estate that needs a bit of work but is otherwise good to go.”

“What about going to work for Max?”

Mary sighed.
“That would mean having to live in London and possibly being away for days on end. I’m done not seeing my child grow up especially at this critical point in time in his life. My time back home with him and my parents has allowed me to see things in a different light. They want to meet you.”

She must have noticed a worried look on my face.
“And whatever I do, I’m going to do it with you so don’t even think of bailing out ok?”

I smiled back at her.
I knew exactly what she meant. I would have given a lot to have my parents on my side when I was struggling with my sexuality.

“Then a traffic officer it is then.”

“I’ll need to do a refresher before they’ll let me go behind the wheel again but it should be good.”

“Do they actually have a vacancy?” I asked remembering the recent budget cuts.

“I don’t know but Godzilla put in a good word for me but she said that they want more women in Traffic especially, Sergeants and above so it is a win-win.”

Max’s associates moved our stuff down from Finchley the following weekend. We spent a week doing some decorating before we started work again. It felt strange saying goodbye to Mary early in the morning as she started her first shift. We had decided to leave it until the end of the school term before we moved Sean over from Ireland to be with us.

We were so engrossed in our life together that we missed the verdict from the ‘Old Bailey’. Daniel Carpenter was sentenced to twelve Whole Life terms. Soon to be former Police Sergeant Pratt was given twelve concurrent life terms with a recommendation that he serve at least twenty five years. The court also made an order to reclaim all of the money he’d been paid for leaking my details to the press. That money was to be paid to the victims. Orders for ‘Asset Forfeiture’ were made on both of them effectively confiscating all their belongings including houses and cars.

One fact that was never fully explained at the trial was that was how the two teamed up in the first place. Neither wanted to explain it.

When Max called us to give us the good news, our relief was palpable.
Then he dropped the bombshell that made everything fit together.

He told us that Mr Carpenter and Mr Pratt had been engaged in a Pornography Business which apparently was not doing that well so they’d moved on into real hard-core movies. Recordings of the killings of all twelve victims had been sold on the ‘Dark Web’ as ‘Snuff Videos’. Both of them had tried to hide the income from that which went well into six figures. They were both to be tried for those crimes. Max estimated that Mr Pratt would have another twenty years added to his jail time because he was the camera operator at the time of the murders. His voice was clearly audible on several recordings.

As I told Caitlyn, I could not help but wonder how he’d got from just being a bully and into making snuff videos. Good riddance to bad rubbish.

The next bit of good news was that once the DNA evidence proved that I wasn’t the father of the child the newspapers caved in and settled the libel case. I gave all the money to charity as I’d promised all along. The sad thing was that the mother still continued to say that I was the father and that I should be made to pay for my getting my evil way with her all those years ago. My legal people issued her with a court order that told her to stop spreading lies. In the end, no one would listen to her.

I felt a little sad for her. Sad because she felt that she had to lie like that and not accept the scientific evidence.

Caitlyn was granted a transfer to the Surrey Police but before she could take up her post, we found out that she was pregnant. After a lot of discussion, we decided that it was time for her to become a fulltime Mother. I had a very good salary and benefits package from working for Sir Richard.

I for one could not wait to become a Father or should that be Mother No 2? In any case, I didn’t care. I was not hiding myself undercover any longer. We have a whole life to live together as a family.

Oh, and finally, Sean has an appointment to see a Doctor about gender issues and Caitlin’s parents have tacitly given me their approval although my hair did cause some conversation until Caitlin thumped the table and said ‘the hair stays as long as Tamara wants it to stay’.

I had to wonder if it wasn’t just me who was coming out from undercover? Who cares eh. We certainly don’t.
[The End]

If you liked this post, you can leave a comment and/or a kudos!
Click the Thumbs Up! button below to leave the author a kudos:
278 users have voted.

And please, remember to comment, too! Thanks. 
This story is 6047 words long.