Dreamer: Book 2. Part 9
By Tanya Allan
This part Copyright © 2012
This is the second chapter of the ‘new’ bit, written in response to those readers who requested it.
Philippa Stewart, international Movie Star and mother of two, looks back at her life.
She has cleared the first couple of hurdles, that of the legal question as to who she is and the medical question of what gender she is. Academic really, but she told the doctor that she has no interest in finding out why it happened, as long as she doesn’t change back.
Now she waits for the police to close the case, as long as her fingerprints match those taken by the police from her room at home and the school she left in a hurry.
Her mother is on the verge of a breakdown and her father is insisting she continue her education. She has yet to meet her family and friends as Philippa, and what about poor old Thor?
But what does she want to do?
Yet again, she feels that others are pressing her to do things to fit in with their plans for her, and not letting her choose her own destiny.
Find out what happens.... read on....
Dreamer: Book 2. Part 8
By Tanya Allan
This part Copyright © 2012
As this section is new, written in response to the many comments left, (for which I thank you) I will endeavour to maintain a similar style, albeit from a different perspective. To be honest, I have no idea where this is going or how long it will take me to get there. Bearing in mind that I started this section yesterday, and I do have many other projects that need completing, I cannot promise to produce this much each day.
Flashing back to that day she was reunited with her parents, this chapter deals with her struggle to be verified by the medical profession, the law and her parents.
Just because she's now a girl, will anything really change?
How will those who knew Philip deal with her?
Find out.... read on....
1988: Hollywood
“Cut, that’s a wrap, people, thank you.” Joseph, the director, looked pleased, finally!
I eased my aching muscles, rotating my neck. That last scene was exhausting and very exacting. My eyes stung, as the coloured contacts were irritating me.
A runner came over to where I had eased my tired body into the folding chair with my name on the back. He was a nice lad, about eighteen, I guessed, with more spots that were good for him.
“Miss Stewart?”
“Hello, Neville, how are you today?” I asked.
He grinned, pleased that I remembered his name and actually deigned to speak to such a lowly person.
“I’m fine, thanks, Miss Stewart. I thought you did that last scene beautifully,” he gushed.
I smiled my thanks at him.
“Is there a message?” I asked.
“Oh, yes, sorry. Your husband called and says he’s in surgery until three and then he’ll catch the train. Can you pick him up at the usual place at around eight?”
“Thanks, Neville. I take it he didn’t want a reply?”
“Uh, I guess not, ma’am.”
“Thanks.”
The lad seemed reluctant to leave.
“Is there something else?” I asked.
“Uh, I was wondering, Miss Stewart, are you staying in the states or heading back to Europe?”
“Well, now the film is finished, I don’t have a lot to stay here for. My husband has a job as a surgeon back there, so I guess we’ll head back.”
“So, no more movies in the pipeline?”
“One or two that are possible, but I’ve also been asked to do another TV period drama series for the BBC.”
“Which do you prefer?”
“That’s a tough one. The movies are the big payers, but I love the series. That’s where I started, doing a period drama over fifteen years ago now.”
“I hope you stay on here, Miss Stewart,” he said, blushing through his acne.
“Why thanks, Neville, I love California, but it’ll never be home for me. I’m still just a very ordinary girl from Scotland.”
“No ma’am, you’ll never be just ordinary,” he said, before rushing off when one of the assistant directors yelled his name. “Bye, Miss Stewart. I think you’re great!”
Joseph came over and sat in the chair next to me.
“Happy now?” I asked, somewhat crossly. He’d made me do that damn scene at least fifteen times.
He grinned at me, with a complete lack of remorse.
“I wanted you to look tired and angry. You acted tired and angry beautifully, but I could tell it was an act. By the last take, you were genuinely tired and angry and so it looked ten times more convincing through the lens. You’re good, Pippa, but when you let yourself go, you’re even better!”
I grunted at him, but smiled. He was one of the best directors I had ever worked with, because he took no shit from anyone. He knew what he wanted and worked everybody really hard until he got it. Another runner appeared with some fresh OJ. He gave us both a glass.
“So, have we got a blockbuster here?” I asked, sipping my drink.
“You can never tell. I’m very pleased with it, and it ticks all the right boxes for the audiences. I think the critics will be mixed, the subject matter is a little off? the usual track, so the arty-farty critics might like it. There’s no reason it shouldn’t do well, after all, your name is up there, and you’ve not been in a dud yet,” he said, grinning.
“There’s a first time for everything,” I said.
“I heard you tell young Neville that you might be heading back to Europe, is that right?”
“My husband’s time in LA is up. He’s learned so much in the clinic, but all good things have to come to an end. He wants to put the new procedures to use at his hospital, so he has to head back soon.”
“Gender reassignment is not something one thinks of as being cutting edge surgery, but I guess there’s all kinds in the world.”
“They started things off in Scandinavia with Christine Jorgensen. She was an American, I believe?”
“Yeah, back in the fifties. I met her once; you’d have never known she had once been a guy.”
“My husband did some time in Stockholm after graduating. When he came back to England, we got married, and then he took the job at the clinic in London. As you know, I’ve been all over the place with TV and movies, and it’s been lovely that he came over here while I was in California.”
“How do your kids feel about your life style?”
“They’re a bit young to know anything different, I guess. Toby is fine; he’s nearly six, but is beginning to grumble that we seem to be moving about all the time. Sasha is just three, and is a little prima donna already. She loves all the attention.”
“No more kids?”
“Not for a while,” I said, smiling.
“How did you guys meet?”
“Oh, a long time ago. Do you know Scotland?”
“Sure, I did a movie up on Loch Ness once.” He pronounced the word Loch as Lock, as did many non-Scots people, especially North Americans,
“Well, I was brought up in Scotland. I was at school up in the hills of Perthshire. I woke up one morning and decided that I had had enough, and so just left. My husband helped me find myself.”
“How old were you?”
“Seventeen.”
“You did that Scottish TV series when you were just seventeen, didn’t you?”
“I was eighteen just before we finished it. It made me. I was ever so grateful to Val.”
“Val?”
“Valarie Masterson, she wrote and produced the series. We met when I was going for a job as a model in Edinburgh. I failed to get the job, but she saw something in me and took a chance. The rest is history.”
I felt a bit better now, having relaxed. It had been a very testing scene, and as I tried to do most of my own stunts, it was quite physical at times.
“What’s next for you?” I asked.
“I’ve been asked to do another space movie, but I’m not sure about them. I think that special effects can make or break the damn things, and sometimes the acting takes second place to that. There’s a gangster type movie being put together by a producer on the East coast, I got a call to see if I was interested, so they’re sending me the script. To be honest, I just want a long vacation with Nancy.”
“I’ll drink to that,” I said, raising my glass. “We’re heading home via the Caribbean. We’ve three weeks booked in a friend’s place in Mustique.”
“Is that the private island where your Queen goes?”
“I think the royal couple have been there a few times. Princess Margaret has been there several times, I know.”
“No relation?” he asked, arching an eyebrow.
I laughed.
“I’m a Stewart; we lost the rights to the throne back in the seventeenth century.”
“So, you’ve got royal blood?” he asked, surprised.
I laughed again.
“Stewart is my stage name. My maiden name is Coates and my husband’s name is…”
“Mummy!” shouted a little girl, as she ran across the set and launched herself into my arms.
“Hello sweetheart. Have you had a nice time with Aunty Harriet?”
“Oh yes, we did painting and swimming and running and sticking. We played with her dog too,” she said, beaming at Harriet as she walked across the set towards us.
Joseph excused himself and wandered off.
“Where’s that brother of yours?” I asked my daughter.
“Somewhere,” Sasha said, vaguely.
“He’s by the special effects truck. They’re going to blow something up, and he wants to press the button again,” said Harriet.
The studio had found Harriet to look after the children for me when I was on location or shooting. She was a twenty-two year old from San Diego. She was studying to be a teacher and did this during her vacations to afford the fees at college. She was superb and the kids loved her. Her boyfriend was Rick. He was a fledgling actor, struggling to find a job after completing drama school in LA.
There was an almighty explosion out on the range. A little boy, flushed in the face and bearing the biggest grin came running over to me.
“I did that!” my son Toby told me proudly.
“You did it beautifully,” I said, unsure whether the word beautifully and a bomb went well together.
“Is daddy here,” Sasha asked.
“Not yet, but I’ll pick him up later. Do you remember the trains?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said.
“We will see more trains when we go and collect him. Then in two sleeps we will go to the sea side. Won’t that be nice?”
She nodded with a frown on her face.
“What?” I asked.
“Is Aunty Harriet coming to the seaside?”
“No dear. Aunty Harriet has to go back to college so she can become a teacher.”
Toby frowned.
“Why does she want to do that when she can stay with us and help?”
“Well, that’s a good question. You see, we don’t need Harriet all the time, only when Mummy is too busy because of work. Now I’ve finished working, Harriet can go back and see her Mummy and Daddy and pick up her life again. You will have me to look after you and do fun things with,” I said.
Their expressions told me that they would rather have Aunty Harriet.
“I have to change,” I said. “Can you keep them out of trouble for half an hour more?”
“Sure, Pippa. Hey guys, shall we go get some ice cream?”
They never looked back, which made me smile slightly.
My trailer was a short walk away. Once I closed the door and turned up the air conditioning, I sat at my dressing table and removed the contacts.
They were a strange amber colour. I’d played a British secret agent with amazing paranormal powers called Amber. The film was based on a British book called Amber Alert (by Tanya Allan and available on Kindle), and was about a young boy called Andrew who was born with special powers. His parents were both volunteers in a secret programme to heighten paranormal ESP in the paranoid forties and fifties, but died in an accident when he was very young.
Brought up by his grandparents, he realised that he wanted to be a girl. Unlike other unfortunate children with gender confusion, he had the power to change, so he did; into Amber. This was the story of how Amber developed and blossomed.
When I read the script, my agent advised me not to touch it. How could I resist something as close to home as this?
It was made for me.
However, it was very ironic. Now I was thirty two, I was too old to play the young Amber. They found a remarkable little actress in a London drama school who could have been me aged eleven. I took over when Amber reached adulthood, as I was still able to play a nineteen year old (with good makeup and excellent lighting).
Most of it took place in the UK, so we spent two months there in the summer last year. Then we moved to Europe and finally to America to do the Caribbean sets and most of the internal work. It always amazed me how convincing the locations could seem, even when we were thousands of miles away from the actual locations.
It had been great fun to make, but physically strenuous. I tried to go to the gym a few times a week, but I felt that I needed a long holiday now.
I stripped off and stepped into the shower.
As I stood there, letting the hot water bombard my aching muscles, I thought back to the journey that got me to this point.
That day I returned to the fold was hard on all of us. It was when my mother revealed that I was a surviving twin that acted as a catalyst somehow. None of us knew the answers to the many questions we had over my sudden and profound change. Somewhere there were answers, but we knew that they weren’t going to fall over themselves to become known in the short term.
I knew from old that my father was a bit of a control freak. He was a shrewd and hard-headed businessman, but he liked to think he could deal with family as if we were his employees. I usually acquiesced to his demands on me, as to stand up to him required more effort and courage than I used to possess. Now, however, although allegedly a member of the weaker and gentle sex, I found that I not only had the will to stand up to him, I had the courage and determination not to back down and allow myself to be bullied.
Although emotions ran high, we never actually lost our tempers. I sensed that my father was being slightly defensive because he felt that control was running away from him. I had no strong feelings about his position, as I was now far more content and secure in who I was. I was no longer plagued by my gender confusion. It had made me a techy and touchy young man, ready to respond to anything that appeared critical or negative.
I was much more concerned about my mother.
Her attitude confused me. Before this, she had been a very social animal, with a large circle of friends and busy social schedule. It had been such to give me the impression that her social life was more important to her than I was.
I accepted that the period of time since I walked away from my life had been a stressful time for her. It had been for all of us. However, I realised that it had taken a heavier toll on her than any of us expected or understood.
As the day went on, it became clear that she was increasingly vague and lacked that sparkle that she possessed before. Naturally I experienced a degree of guilt, so took every opportunity I could to talk things through with her. She was particularly tactile towards me, almost unwilling to let me out of her sight and always trying to hold my hand.
I got a chance to talk to my father alone.
“Your mother hasn’t taken this well,” he said, with a tone of admonishment.
I bit back an angry retort.
“It hasn’t been easy for me, either. What else could I have done?”
He shook his head, as I think he understood that my assessment of likely reactions was accurate.
“Has she seen the doctor?” I asked.
“Oh yes, and he put her on anti-depressants.”
“Ah!” I said.
What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Dad, those things screw with you. Now I understand why she’s so woolly.”
I decided not to return to Edinburgh that day, so after being at home for a couple of hours, I rang Thor to tell him.
I sensed he wasn’t happy, but appreciated that I needed time with my family. I didn’t blame him, as I’d dumped a lot on him to deal with in a short time.
It was a hard experience, as there was a lot of pain to deal with. My disappearance was a selfish act, but I saw no alternative at the time. I told them that if it had to happen all over again and I knew the result, I would have still done it that way. I needed to deal with what happened to me. The only thing that I’d have changed is that I’d have sent them a letter sooner.
My father managed to get an appointment with Dr Featherstone that afternoon.
Boy, that was an experience!
We all went, which was gruelling. My mother was never far from tears and was still unable to let go of my hand. I figured that now she had me back, she didn’t want to let go of me.
We all trooped into the doctor’s room together. My father clutched various documents that he believed would be relevant.
“Gracious, a real family outin……Good God, who’s this?” the doctor asked, on seeing me.
This man had been our family doctor since I was born, so knew me as well as anyone.
My parents sat in the chairs provided, while I perched on the examining bench.
“This is a tricky one, Roger, so we need you to keep an open mind, okay?” said my father.
I’d agreed to let him handle this, which I was only too happy to do. I was wary and uneasy about officialdom, and the doctor was the first hurdle of officialdom.
Now I may have my differences with my dad, but I have also to admit that he is a very erudite and persuasive man.
He told the story so well, I almost cried. I had to correct him a couple of times, but in essence he managed to spell out exactly what happened. Oh, except for the bit that I’d been screwing a Norwegian. Although he knew, he wasn’t ready to talk about it to anyone else, doctor or not.
“Wow!” said the doctor, looking bamboozled. “This is a first!”
No one said anything for a while. The doctor took out a buff folder that I assumed contained my medical notes. My dad passed over all the documents he had, and for a few minutes the doctor looked through everything. I thought he probably was playing for time, trying to work out what the hell he could do with me.
At last, he looked up and straight at me.
“Fine, okay young lady, what do I call you?”
“Pippa is fine,” I said.
“Right, then Pippa it is. How about I take a wee look at you, and then we’ll take this one step at a time?”
I nodded.
My parents left, with my father almost forcibly dragging my mother out.
“It’s fine Mrs Coates, you’ll see her again in a wee while,” the doctor said.
At his request, I undressed and sat on the bench.
“Phew, there’s no doubting that you’re a girl, is there?” he said, on seeing me naked.
“Not really,” I agreed.
The examination was reasonably extensive, going places that I’d rather he hadn’t. He started by taking some blood, and then got down to look at the rest of me.
The first stop was my left knee. He had sewn me up when I was ten. I’d fallen off my bike onto some broken glass and my mother had taken me straight to him. The scar was still there.
“How did you get this?” he asked.
“You stitched me up after I fell off my bike, July 1967, wasn’t it?”
He looked at his notes and smiled at me. He moved down to my girl bits, putting rubber gloves on. I lay on my back with my legs apart. It was not pleasant.
“Have you had a period?”
“Yes, one.”
“Painful?”
“No, not pleasant, but no pain. I felt bloated and a bit yuk, that’s all.”
“You’ve had sexual intercourse?” he said.
I blushed and hoped he couldn’t see my face.
“Yes.”
“Contraception?”
“Condoms.”
“Ah. Perhaps we need to talk about that later.”
“Probably.”
So it went on.
Eventually, he washed his hands.
“Okay, Pippa, put your clothes on,” he said, drawing a curtain around me.
How daft is that? The man has just been in places that stripped me more than naked and now wanted me to get dressed behind a curtain.
After I had dressed, I returned to a chair in front of his desk. He sat behind the desk going through my notes again. I sat watching him for a while. He had a little bald patch on the crown of his head.
He looked up.
“Right, as I said, this is a first for me, and would be for most doctors, I believe. The way I see it is that my job is four-fold. One I have to ascertain that you are physically healthy and a normal female. Two: I have to establish that you are psychologically healthy. Then we have to make sure that you are satisfied with being female. Because if you aren’t we need to look at possible options. Lastly, I have to determine that you and Philip are one and the same person. Is that in line with your thinking?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Fine, then if we satisfy all those criteria, I’d also like to find out how this has happened. Medically you are unique, so it would be very helpful to find out what triggered this profound and perfect change. I can only do this with your consent. But you don’t need to worry about that just now. Let’s look at the first point. Do you feel well?”
“Yes, I’m fine.”
“Hmm, how do you feel about what’s happened to you?”
I simply smiled, so he nodded.
“It’s the best thing that could ever happen to me,” I said.
“I take it that if it was possible, you wouldn’t want to go back?”
No.” I said, emphatically.
“Your father said that you ran away because you wanted to avoid a media and medical circus. What did he mean?”
I explained all my thoughts and fears. He nodded, making a few notes as I spoke.
“If it’s any consolation, I can understand your thinking and to be honest, I don’t think you would have been far wrong. I’m not saying you did the right thing, as it has caused pain to your family, and not to mention the problems with the school and the police.”
I cringed in embarrassment and guilt.
“I know. I just couldn’t see any other way,” I said.
“Hmm. I glad it wasn’t me, as I’m sure I’d have been just as confused as you. In fact, I think you coped most capably. Now, some questions about Philip.”
Some!
He tried every trick in the book to make me make a mistake. Fortunately I didn’t have to lie. He moved off the personal and asked me all kinds of questions that I guessed were designed to test my mental state.
In the end, he sat back and scratched his head.
“Fine. Well, young lady, I’m pleased to say that as far as points one to three are concerned, I’m happy that you are a fit, fertile young woman of sound mind, showing the correct development for your age and appearance.”
“I thought I was.”
“Well, you are. Now, the tricky bit. I have to be honest, I have no idea how or why you’ve changed, but have to agree that you are the same person as young Philip. Now, I don’t even know where to start looking for answers. I’m a GP, not a gender specialist. But, to be frank, I don’t think that even a specialist would be able to ascertain the trigger and cause for your change. Do you want to know how it happened?”
“Not really. As long as it doesn’t go in reverse.”
“That’s a difficult one, as we don’t know how it happened in the first place. I’d say that what happened to you is impossible, so ruling out a change back just couldn’t be done. I do, however, think it is highly unlikely.”
“My mother mentioned I was a surviving twin. My sister died just before we were born. Could that have anything to do with it?” I asked.
“I don’t think so, but, as I said, this is a unique case, so nothing can be ruled out. I need to wait for your blood to be tested, as it may hold some clues, but I’m not that hopeful.”
“So, what happens now?”
“What do you want to happen?”
“I just want to be me and get on with my life. As a girl, that is.”
“So, you’re not interested in finding out how this happened?”
“Not really.”
“Are you sure? I mean, you may have a condition that flips you back and forth.”
“Really?” I said.
“Hell, I don’t know. If anything comes back in your blood, I’ll give you a call, all right?”
“Sounds good to me.”
“In that case, I’ll compile a written report that states that you, a female, were once outwardly male and have experienced a genetic hiccough that somehow caused you to apparently change genders. You are now a perfectly normal, genetic female, so it is possible that your apparent maleness was a mistake, which was repaired by the onset of puberty and the sudden production of female hormones.”
“Huh?”
“I know, it sounds like bullshit, and probably is, but you want to avoid the circus, so this is about the only explanation that would do the job.”
“Oh. Thanks, I think.”
“I’ll word it in a suitably medically confusing way and send a couple of copies to you. You will need them to get your birth certificate changed. Once that’s done, you can apply for a new passport and other things.”
“That’s it?”
He stood up.
“That’s it for now. Before we get your parents back, would you like to talk about the pill?”
“Uh, I suppose I’d better.”
“Are you going to continue having sex?”
I smiled.
“I suppose so.”
“Then we need to talk.”
The drive home was quiet. Dad was pleased with himself, as he thought that his persuasive skills had secured the result. I kept quiet, not caring how or why we’d reached this point. I was just happy to be here.
On arriving at home, there was a police car parked in the drive. I experienced a sinking feeling.
“I called them and asked them to be here,” my father said.
“Dad!”
“It has to be done, and now, not later.”
I couldn’t disagree, although I wasn’t happy.
WPC Sheena Forbes was a pretty girl, but the uniform, although smart, wasn’t designed for fashion reasons.
We all sat in the drawing room. I could tell she didn’t believe that I was Philip Coates.
“I’m here to establish the whereabouts of your son Philip,” she started very formally. “Due to the unusual circumstances of his disappearance, I’ve been allocated the case to investigate and to establish whether any offences have been committed.”
She looked at me suspiciously.
My father launched into his long-winded explanation. He was at his best, so now I could understand how he had succeeded in business. He could sell snow to Eskimos.
He produced photographs and documents, including the interim note from the doctor that he had given for just such an eventuality. My father had asked him for it before we left the surgery.
She asked me more questions than the doctor had. Admittedly the doctor had it easy as he had known me as Philip, so had a base from which to start. This girl had nothing. All she knew about me was from her initial report and what my parents and the school had told her.
She took my fingerprints.
“Do you have my fingerprints on file?” I asked, surprised.
“We took prints from your room here and from the school. If we match them and find they are the same, I’ll be able to close the case. If not, well, I’ll be back to talk to you about personation.”
“Personation?”
“The assumption of someone else’s identity.”
“I thought that was impersonation?”
“Aye, if you were to try to look like Philip Coates it would be, but the identity you’re taking is a different gender. Look it up in a dictionary,” she said, smiling for the first time. “I had to when the inspector told me the word.”
“Oh.”
“Mind you, this is the most amazing case I’ve ever dealt with,” she said, smiling for the second time.
“Sorry. I never meant to cause all this trouble.”
“You said that you wanted to be a girl, and it just happened?”
“Just about, yes.”
She shook her head.
“Amazing. Okay, I’m done for now. I’ll get your prints off to the experts and I’ll get back to you. If they’re a match, I’ll close the case. I take it you want to avoid the press?”
“You take it right.”
“Fine, I’ve no bother with that. For the most part the press are a right pain in the arse. Goodbye just now.”
I saw her out and even waved as she drove away.
Shit, was it that easy?
My father came out and placed an arm around my shoulders. It’s funny, but I don’t recall him ever doing that to me as a boy.
“Now, Pippa, we need to sort out the school and your mum.”
Okay, so it wasn’t that easy.
Dreamer: Book 2. Part 9
By Tanya Allan
This part Copyright © 2012
This is the second chapter of the ‘new’ bit, written in response to those readers who requested it.
My thanks to PEGLEG for help with proofing
Philippa Stewart, international Movie Star and mother of two, looks back at her life.
She has cleared the first couple of hurdles, that of the legal question as to who she is and the medical question of what gender she is. Academic really, but she told the doctor that she has no interest in finding out why it happened, as long as she doesn’t change back.
Now she waits for the police to close the case, as long as her fingerprints match those taken by the police from her room at home and the school she left in a hurry.
Her mother is on the verge of a breakdown and her father is insisting she continue her education. She has yet to meet her family and friends as Philippa, and what about poor old Thor?
But what does she want to do?
Yet again, she feels that others are pressing her to do things to fit in with their plans for her, and not letting her choose her own destiny.
Find out what happens.... read on....
Dreamer: Book 2. Part 9
Having showered and changed into jeans and a loose tee shirt, I sat at a small table outside my trailer, applying a little makeup as I waited for my hair to dry in the warm sunshine.
It seems like a hundred years ago that I returned to my parents as a girl for the first time.
I was so at home as a girl, I really did feel that my boy-life was just a rather bad dream.
Shaking my head, the ghosts of the past would never really go away. I didn’t think about my life before very much, as, well, there was nothing about it I wanted to remember. The over-riding feelings I recalled were misery and frustration.
I did, however, often wonder about that room. That place where the girl had been on that bed, and in which the boy was now entombed, having voluntarily changed places with her, so she could be free. So I could be free.
I checked my watch.
I had plenty of time before meeting my husband’s train.
I smiled. It would be good to see him again, as I missed him not being around. I always felt warm-fuzzies when I thought about him, particularly when I knew we would be together once more. I hated being apart from him, even for a day.
When I thought about how we’d first got together and then separated, to meet up again later, I often wondered if there was any way of foretelling with whom we’d end up.
I collected my jacket and purse before heading to collect the kids. I found them sitting nicely at the table by the refractory with more ice cream on their faces than in their mouths. Harriet was beginning to look stressed.
“Okay Harriet, I’ve got ’em now, why don’t you take off? You’ve been wonderful, thanks a million,” I said, as I slid onto a vacant chair.
She smiled her thanks to me while wiping my daughter’s face with a tissue.
“Are you sure?” she said.
“Sure. Give my love to Rick, and tell him to contact my agent. We’ve already spoken, and she’s promised to look out for something for him.”
Harriet thanked me and hugged the children. As she and I embraced, I passed her a little envelope.
“I know the studio have paid you for your time, but this is a little something from me to say thanks. You’ve been wonderful, and the children adore you, so many thanks again.”
She spoiled it then by bursting into tears, which made me cry too. We hugged and promised to keep in touch. She hugged the kids again and then left, waving before she disappeared around a corner.
“Now, shall we go meet daddy’s train?” I asked.
Once I’d cleaned them off and gathered our stuff, we headed for the parking lot.
Our station wagon was parked under cover, to keep in slightly cooler. The attendant brought it to me as we waited in the small office.
Within a few minutes, I had driven out of the studio and was on the highway, heading for the station. The children were excited, as they wanted to see their daddy as much as I did.
We had a house here that the studio gave us for the duration. Once I had picked him up, we’d head to the house, where, hopefully, our housekeeper had a meal ready for us.
As I negotiated the traffic, my mind flitted back to that day I had come home.
“Dad, it’s simple, I’m not going back to school.”
The police car was just disappearing down the road, and I was already on the offensive.
His face took on the look I knew so well. In the past, as Philip, I’d always given in, as I knew it just wasn’t worth the effort in crossing him. He likes his own way, and will go into such a mood if he doesn’t get it.
“I think you’ll find that I do know best in this, so no more messing around.”
I smiled, but it probably wasn’t a very pleasant smile.
He was used to dealing with a boy who couldn’t actually give a damn about anything. I had never any desire to force the issue, as there was only one issue I cared about, and that was never going to be mentioned. That boy was gone now; he was dead, as was that particular issue. What he now faced was a girl who may not know exactly what she wanted, but she knew what she didn’t want.
“No, Dad, you don’t understand. This isn’t negotiable; I’m not going back to school. I’m seventeen, and therefore I do not have to go to school. I’ve some high grade O levels and, well, to be honest, I just don’t think I need to stay on for A levels in subjects that will of no earthly use to me in my chosen career. If I do anything, I will go to drama school, but only if things don’t work out.”
He blinked a couple of times, looking somewhat confused. It dawned on me that I’d not stood up to him for years, so he probably didn’t know how to deal with me. I decided to attack while the advantage was mine.
“I’ve managed to find a job, somewhere to live and lined up an even better job in a few months. I have absolutely no intention of risking the last just because you think it would be appropriate for me to go to university and get a degree in something you can boast about at the golf club.”
“Now look here,….” he started.
“No, Dad, you look. I’m an adult and have made some life choices, bearing in mind things have changed so much for me. I know where I want my life to head, so you can forget laying down the law. You can help and support me, or you can object and I’ll go my own way. I’ve managed so far pretty well, so don’t think I will just slide into whatever plans you’ve made for me, because I won’t. Okay? This time, I’m prepared simply to walk out again.”
I watched as his face went through a series of strange expressions. There was anger, frustration, confusion and latterly a little glimmer of triumph.
“You mother wants you,” he said.
“No, she doesn’t. She wants Philip back, but that’s not going to happen. I’m quite prepared to be a good daughter to her, but what she really needs is the right professional medical help and counselling. They tell me that that the dependants of sex-change patients have to be dealt with as if there has been bereavement in the family. Although I’m not exactly a transsexual anymore, I am a sex-change case, so we need to help mum through this. What it doesn’t need is you telling her to pull herself together. Neither does it need me to pretend that nothing’s wrong and to go swanning off without a care in the world.”
He stood looking at me with a dazed expression. All his ammunition seemed to evaporate.
“So, step one is to make sure she understands where we all stand and where we’re going from here. Step two is to make sure she’s getting the right care, and step three is to rip up all the plans you had for us as a family and me in particular. We deal with this one day and one step at a time.”
He surprised me then, because he smiled. I didn’t expect that.
“All right, so what do you say we call a truce and sort out your mother together?” he said.
They say relief can be tangible. I can testify to that.
“Okay Dad,” I said, and let him lead me back indoors.
The atmosphere was still a little strained, as my mother was on the verge of tears for most of the time, but due to the pills wasn’t sure why.
We sat around the kitchen table and attempted to talk about issues, feelings and emotions about which none of us had any experience in expressing.
Although I was legally me (almost) and medically a girl, I still had the awful realities of meeting friends and family as Pippa. I shared my fears and feelings.
“We ought to ask some people to dinner,” my mother said, vaguely.
“Not yet, mum, I don’t think I’m ready for that. Besides, I’m not staying that long.”
This obviously came as news to them both.
“I thought you were back for good?” she said, looking pleadingly at my father, as if to silently ask him what he had said or done to make me want to leave.
“I told you, I’ve a job and things happening in my life. I just wanted you to know that I was okay and, well, understand why I left. It’s a bit obvious, I suppose.”
We spent the rest of the evening avoiding conflict. In doing that we avoided saying anything of any substance and so avoided anything relating to serious decisions that could have any lasting effect on our lives. When I went to bed, I vowed to leave the following day.
It was strange lying in my old bed in my old room.
I wasn’t the same person, so I felt an imposter in my old life. It was so weird looking at all my old things. I’d collected them as a boy, so all the memories belonged to Philip.
I no longer felt that I belonged here.
It took me a while to get to sleep, but when I went to the loo at about 2 o’clock in the morning, I noticed that my parents’ bedroom light was still on and they were talking.
I felt the guilt return, as what had happened to me was causing them so much pain. As I sat on the loo, I thought about lots of ‘what ifs’.
What if I’d told them of my true gender years ago, and told them I wanted a sex change?
What if I had never written?
What if I’d stayed at school and invited a media circus?
I then thought that, with all these alternatives, I’d probably managed to unwittingly take the path of least hassle. As I finished my business, I wiped and regarded my femaleness. I smiled. There was something eminently satisfying being what I’d always dreamed of in a place I’d dreamed it.
After I returned to my room and lay there thinking stuff, I wondered about Thor and what future, if any, we had together. I must have fallen asleep, for his smile was the last thing I remembered.
Unusually for me, I woke early the next morning. In the past, I’d always liked being in bed for as long as I could, for in bed I could close my eyes and dream about being a girl. Now I was one, I didn’t need to dream any more. I just wanted to live the reality, so was up and dressed in a few minutes. I spent a little time on my makeup, because I could.
I was downstairs and having breakfast when my father appeared. He was wearing his dressing-gown over his pyjamas and looked tired.
“Morning Dad,” I said, cheerily. “Coffee?”
He seemed doubly surprised to see me, which was reasonable. As Philip I rarely rose before ten and he’d never seen me as a girl in the morning.
“Um, good morning, Phi..Pippa, thank you.”
“Can I get a tea for mother, or does she have a coffee in the morning these days?”
“Tea would be fine. How come you’re up so early? It’s only seven thirty.”
“There was nothing to stay in bed for. I need to get going if I’m to get back to Edinburgh.”
“So you’re not staying; I thought we’d discussed this?
“Not really, you said your piece and I said mine. I don’t think either of us accepted the other’s point of view. I did say I was here for a short visit.”
“This is hardly ideal, I mean, your mother needs you.”
“Dad, mother needs help, yes, but every time she sees me like this, she’ll remember that Philip is gone for good. So what she needs is proper medical care, the right medication and counselling. It’s not like I’m going to be away for long or far. I’m only going to be an hour or so away, so now we’ve done this, the hard bit, I’m sure we’ll get together a lot. For example, mum could drive over and we’ll go off shopping and have lunch together. If we do normal mother and daughter things, she might get sorted.”
“You could stay here and still do those things,” he suggested.
“No, dad, it wouldn’t work, and you know it. We’re likely to tear each other’s heads off.”
Dad smiled, as we both knew I was right.
“Fine, but we need to keep in regular touch,” he said.
“I’ve no problem with that. I just need time to sort myself out, Dad. This has been hard for me, as my life may be what I wanted, but it’s turned everything upside down.” I smiled. “I don’t reckon I did too badly. After all, I managed to land on my feet with only a little help.”
Frowning, he looked as if he wanted to ask me something.
“Yes?” I said.
“I never really asked, but you said you wanted this; for how long? I mean, when did it all start?”
“All my life, or at least since I was about four or five. I just remember always wanting to be a girl. I knew that inside I was one, but I had to live my life according to what other people saw and expected.”
“Is it because of us?”
“Dad, I have no idea why I felt as I did. I’ve read a lot of stuff about transsexuals, and, well, I don’t think it’s anything to do with other people; it’s simply a case of bad wiring. My inner me is a girl and the outer me wasn’t.”
I paused and smiled.
“I’m all fixed now,” I said.
Shaking his head, he seemed to have difficulty dealing with that news.
“You said with a little help, what did you mean?” he asked.
“Just before I left, one of my friends at school gave me some money and, well, and then I met Thor, and he helped a lot. He just let me be myself for the first time in my life.”
“I’m not sure I approve of you having a boyfriend.”
“I don’t care, Dad, I needed someone and he came along. In fact, we helped each other and drew close as a result.”
“You’re having sex?”
I sighed. I knew this would come up eventually.
“Yes, and we’re taking precautions. Just before I left the doctor’s surgery, he gave me a prescription for the pill.”
“The pill?”
Rolling my eyes, I nodded.
“Yes, Dad, the pill. You know; the contraceptive for women who don’t want to have babies?”
“Ah,” he said, embarrassed.
I handed him his coffee and a mug of tea for my mother.
“If you give me a lift to the station, I’ll get the two o’clock train for Edinburgh. I’ll try to come down next weekend, if you like.”
“What about your mother?” he asked.
“What about her?”
“As I said before, she needs you.”
“So you did. I’m not convinced that I’m actually as much use as you think I might be. Let me take that tea to her, and we’ll have a mummy-daughter chat, if you like.”
He couldn’t give me the mug quick enough.
I went upstairs and knocked on my mother’s door and pushed it open.
She was still in bed, but wasn’t asleep.
She smiled when she saw me, sitting up on the bed.
She was still an attractive woman, and I thought she was looking less vague today.
“Good morning, dear. Did you sleep well?”
“Not really, there’s too much going on in my mind.”
“I know what you mean. I’m not sure which way is up any more. Your father took me to the doctor and asked him to give me something. I’m not sure I like them, or whether they like me, for that matter.”
“If you don’t like them, then don’t take them. Look, I’m not a doctor, but even I can see that they’re not doing a lot of good. You started taking them because of me disappearing, so now I’m back, do you still need them?”
“Are you back?”
“Okay, not as Philip. Oh, mum, can’t you see, he’s gone for good?”
“I never said goodbye,” she said.
“You didn’t have to. I’m still me, it’s just I’m not him anymore. I’m who and what I always wanted to be. I tried telling you ages ago, and, well, you chose not to understand or even try to understand.”
She frowned as if trying to remember.
“I thought it was just a phase.”
“It was, but it’s over now,” I said.
She held my hands, looking at me.
“You’re wearing makeup?”
“Yes, mum, I do most days.”
“This is so hard. You’re very pretty, did you know that?”
I felt the colour rising in my cheeks.
“I’ve been told, so I suppose so.”
She smiled, releasing one of her hands, stroking my face.
“You’re the daughter I lost, aren’t you?” she asked.
“No, I’m the daughter you’ve gained.”
“You’re going back to Edinburgh?”
“I have to, as I’ve a job to go back to.”
“And a boyfriend?”
“And a boyfriend.”
“Is he nice?”
“I think so,” I answered, smiling.
“How serious is it?”
“Mum, he and I met when we both needed someone. We’re taking things a day at a time, not rushing into anything.”
“Does he love you?”
“I think so.”
“Do you love him?” she asked, watching my face carefully.
I hesitated.
Did I?
I liked him, a lot. I wasn’t sure that he was the ONE though.
“Yes, I think so.”
“Don’t make a mistake, dear. Boys are such simple souls. They latch onto one thing and think that’s all there is.”
This was amazing. After seventeen years, here was the first piece of useful advice she had ever given to me.
“I won’t.”
“Are you on the pill?”
I nodded.
“I took the first one this morning.”
“Good, then make sure he uses a rubber for at least the next month. That’s how long the pill takes to start working.”
Tears came to my eyes. All my preconceptions about she would react were wrong.
“Thanks mum, I will.”
She took a sip of her tea.
“Do me a favour and flush those bloody pills down the loo,” she said.
I was confused at first, as I was still thinking about contraception. Then I understood.
“Are you sure?”
“Totally. These damn things are making me all woolly.”
I took her anti-depressants to the bathroom and hid them in the cupboard. I flushed the loo, just for effect. I didn’t want to get rid of them without some form of medical instructions first.
“Will you promise me something?” I asked when I came back to her bed.
“What?”
“Go see the doctor and get him to sort you out properly.”
She gave me one of those looks. You know the type; ‘I will do what I want regardless of any promises.’
“I mean it,” I said.
“All right, dear; on one condition?”
“What?”
“You come back most weekends.”
“Deal.”
We shook hands and then she pulled me close and hugged me.
“Thanks Pippa.”
“What for?”
“Being my daughter and coming back to me.”
When I returned to the kitchen, my father had gone up for his shower. I sat and drank another cup of tea and read the paper at the kitchen table.
The back door opened and in walked my Aunt Charlotte.
Aunt Charlotte was my father’s older sister. Her husband, Uncle Keith, was a senior army officer currently stationed in Germany. He was a Brigadier or something. He had been a Black Watch officer and when he was posted overseas, Aunt Charlotte had always gone with him. When their two daughters got to School age, they were sent to boarding school, but when the older daughter, Rosamund, reached her O level stage, Aunt Charlie decided that she’d had enough traipsing about and made Keith buy a house where she could stay in one place while he went off on his travels.
Roz and Fiona were both married now, as they were considerably older than me, but my aunt had no desire to live in a series of army homes in strange parts. She stayed in her farm house just down the road from where we lived, and Keith would return whenever he got leave. He was due to retire soon, so in a short time, they’d have to get used to living together once more.
For a moment she stared at me, frowning. Then, I think the penny dropped, for her mouth opened and closed several times and one hand reached out and held onto the back of a chair.
“Oh, my word, it’s you!” she said.
I was so pleased she’d recognised me. I wondered whether my parents had mentioned my letter. I doubted they would have done.
“Hi Aunty.”
She pulled the chair closer and sat down heavily.
“H..h..how?”
I just finished telling her when my father returned.
He paled a little when he saw his sister.
“When were you going to tell me?” she asked him.
“When we had all the facts.”
“Do the police know?”
“Yes. A police woman was here yesterday.”
“How about the school, have you told them?”
“The police will do that.”
She looked at me again.
“How the hell did we miss the truth?”
Smiling, I shrugged.
“My God, you’re beautiful. What do I call you?”
“Pippa.”
“Well, Pippa, it’s not often I’m speechless, but you’ve done it this time.”
“Don’t be an arse, Charlie, nothing will ever shut you up!” said her brother.
“What the hell did the doctor say?” she asked.
Again I shrugged.
“He didn’t really know how or why it happened. He thinks that I must have been inter-sexed so when my body started producing oestrogen, it sort of changed fully to be in line to what I should have been.”
“Inter-sexed?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Hell, Charlie, he doesn’t know, so he’s made up the most likely explanation that will cover the legal aspect of this whole affair,” my father said. “If we’re to get her legally acknowledged as a genetic girl, there has to be a plausible medical diagnosis.”
“You were a normal little boy, weren’t you?” she asked me.
I shrugged once more.
“Physically I thought that I was a normal male, but mentally and emotionally, I was never a boy. I was in constant conflict ever since I remember.”
“Oh, you poor child. It must have been perfectly horrid. How do you feel now?”
I think my smile must have said it all.
“Good! Now you can get on a live properly. I always wondered why you were such a miserable little soul.”
My father looked shocked.
“You what?” he said.
“Oh, honestly, you are the limit. Did you never ask yourself why your son was always looking so bloody miserable?” she asked him.
Dad looked at me and then back at his sister.
“I never noticed,” he finally admitted.
“Then you’re as blind as you are selfish. I bet you never even thought about what he wanted, as you were always so full of what you had planned for poor little Philip. Well, all I can say is that our blessed Maker has a wonderful sense of justice.”
There was a moment of stunned silence as my father digested her words. He had a distinctly guilty look on his face when he looked my way again.
“I never realised,” he said, quietly.
“Well, what’s done is done. No point dwelling on the past. How’s the old girl taking it?” she asked.
“She’s okay,” I said. “I think she’s actually over the worst. Go up and see her, she’d like to see you,” I said before my dad could stick his oar in.
I will, make me a coffee, there’s a love,” she said as she breezed out to go up and look in on my mother.
“You never told her?” I said to my father.
“As I said, we wanted to know the facts before we told anyone.”
“So, what have you planned for today?” I asked.
“Your headmaster called. The police told him that you’ve been located and he’s asked if you would explain things to him. Apparently the police didn’t tell him anything except you were alive and well and that the case was closed as far as they were concerned.”
I frowned.
“Have they called here?”
“No, why?”
“I thought they’d tell us the case was closed first.”
“As the school called them first, I suppose they get told first. I don’t know.”
At that moment, the doorbell sounded.
“I’ll go,” my dad said, seeing the look of panic on my face.
It was WPC Sheena Forbes. She followed my father into the kitchen.
“Hullo, Miss Coates, how are you today?” she asked.
The Miss Coates surprised me more than anything else so far, but once over that, I responded.
“Okay thanks, you?”
“I’m fine. This won’t take long. Our fingerprint comparison confirms that you are the same person, so I’m here to tell you officially that the case is closed. We had to tell the school and they were responsible for alerting us to your missing status in the first place, so you may get a call from them.”
“We already have,” my father informed her.
“Okay, fine. So, all I can do is wish you all the best. Oh, and do me a favour?” she asked me.
“If I can, what?” I responded.
“Aye, if you want te bugger off again, just let someone know where you’re going. It’ll save an affy lot o’ hassle, okay?”
I smiled.
“I don’t think I’ll be buggering off again, but okay, I’ll try.”
“Good. Well, I’m just pleased that this one is a happy ending. I’ll see myself out,” she said, putting her hat back on and walking out again.
“That’s a relief,” my father said.
“That’s one relief, dad, but how do you expect me to go back to school like this?”
“In my car?”
“Bugger!” I said.
To be continued…………
Dreamer: Book 2. Part 10
By Tanya Allan
This part Copyright © 2012
This is the third chapter of the ‘new’ bit, written in response to those readers who requested it.
Philippa Stewart, international Movie Star and mother of two, continues to look back at her life. We are finally introduced to her husband, as he too harks back to the old days.
The police close the case, but she needs to return to the school so that door may be closed as well.
She faces her old friend, so past and present become clear. Her family seem to come to terms with her true nature, at least he mother does. Pippa now believes she has grown up, but finds that perhaps her future may not contain a certain Norwegian.
Find out what happens.... read on....
Dreamer: Book 2. Part 10
As usual, the traffic was a nightmare getting to the railway station. In a land where there were almost more cars than people, I was often amazed that the city traffic moved at all. Hailing from rural Scotland where the main obstruction was the odd flock of sheep on the road (actually I jest, but you get my drift), I was not enamoured to sitting in traffic with two small children in the car.
Fortunately, I had given myself plenty of time, but needed every moment. As I pulled up in the parking/drop-off point, I saw a familiar figure wave and start heading our way.
“There’s Daddy!” exclaimed Sasha.
My heart leapt a little, as it always did when I saw him.
“Yes, there’s Daddy.”
“Do you think he’s got a present for us?” Toby asked, as his mercenary mind was already working well.
“He’s brought himself, isn’t that enough?” I asked.
Toby thought about it for a moment.
“I guess,” he said. He’d been hanging out with too many Americans, I thought to myself.
I got out of the car as my husband came over to me, smiling broadly.
“Hello you,” he said, wrapping his arms around me. I clung to him, painfully aware as to how much I’d missed him and how I adored being in his arms.
“You came back then?” I teased.
“Just to see the kids,” he said, grinning. “Seriously, how did it go?”
“Good. They think it should do well.”
“Excellent, so we can get back to a normal life again now?”
“Yup,” I said, kissing him.
He put his case in the trunk and opened the back door to make a fuss of the kids. I saw a cop approaching, so hurried him up, as the signs were very clear; we could only stay here for a moment.
However, his children were more important than a parking ticket, so he ignored my pleas. I groaned, as a parking ticket was not something I needed right now.
“Hey, aren’t you the movie star, Philippa Stewart?” the cop asked. He was n overweight man in his late thirties.
I smiled.
“Guilty as charged. I’m sorry, officer, I’ve just collected my husband, so we won’t be long.”
“Hey stay as long as you need. Can I get your autograph?” he asked.
“Sure,” I said, groaning inside, but smiling on the outside.
He produced an unused parking ticket and turned it over, handing it to me with a pen.
“What’s your name?”
“David, but my friends call me Dave.”
I wrote, To Dave, on the event of him not giving me a parking ticket. Keep keeping the peace. Love - Philippa Stewart.
“Hey, that’s cool; thanks Miss Stewart,” he said, on reading what I wrote. “You have a good day, now, you hear!”
He wandered off, pleased with his prize. I looked round to see my husband regarding me with a smile.
“What?” I asked.
“Nothing, just you. Remind me to always have you around to prevent getting tickets.”
“Come on, get in. We need to get back to feed these two.”
Once more we entered the rush-hour traffic and crawled along.
“How were things your end?” I asked.
“Very constructive; I’ve learned a lot. I’ll be glad to get back home, though,” he said.
“Me too. I love it here, but it’s not home, is it?”
He turned round and quizzed the kids on what they’d been doing. I knew that would keep them all busy until we got back to the house.
After supper, he produced a couple of small parcels from his bag and gave them to the children. As ever, they were books. Toby was an avid reader, while Sasha was getting there. She adored the pictures and so bed-time stories were a special time for us all. They already had toys galore, and we both felt that books contained so much more than the toys, particularly the electronic games that were becoming so popular.
I watched as he read one of the books to them both. They had separate rooms, but Toby sat on Sasha’s bed for story-time. Their father was a superb reader, putting on different voices for the characters and making all the right sound effects.
After prayers, they both settled down in their own beds and were soon asleep.
“Well done,” I said, “That was super.”
“You know, next to making love to my wife, reading to my children is my most favourite pastime.”
Later, after he’d enjoyed his favourite pastime, and I nestled in his arms, I felt complete once more.
“Pippa?” he murmured as I luxuriated in his closeness and maleness.
“Mmm?”
“Did you ever think we’d end up like this?”
I chuckled, as we often had this conversation.
“No, not in a million years, and you know it.”
“Do you remember the time, just after you went home to your parents and then you came back to me?”
“Of course.”
“What was going through your mind?”
I chuckled as I remembered.
“I was bloody terrified, that’s all I remember.”
“I still can’t believe you came back.”
“He made me do it,” I said.
“Who?”
“My Dad.”
“I’m so pleased he did. I was still surprised that you went back to your Viking, what was his name, Odin?”
I punched him gently on the arm.
“Oh Andy, you know he was called Thor, but it just wasn’t to be. We needed each other for a while, and then I suppose we just drifted apart.”
“And then you called me.”
“Yup, mad wasn’t I?”
“I was just so pleased to hear from you. It’s not every day one gets the hots for the boys who’d been your best friend for years.”
I looked up, into his eyes.
“I’m not a boy anymore, remember?”
“No; really? I hadn’t noticed,” he said, chuckling.
“When did you first get the hots for me?” I asked.
“I think it was the first time I saw you naked in Phil’s bed. I mean, in your bed.”
“Why didn’t you say something?”
“Well, it wasn’t exactly the circumstances or environment to think seriously about anything except panic.”
“So, when you saw me, you know, on that day Dad brought me back to school, what did you think then?”
“At first I couldn’t believe it was you. I was just getting out from biology and saw your dad’s car in front of the head’s house. At least I thought it was your car. I’d been in it enough times with you. Then you and your father were coming out and I watched your dad shake his hand. That’s when you saw me.”
* * *
The meeting with Mr Matheson, the headmaster, went well, considering. I didn’t say much at all, leaving my father to tell my story for me. He did it very well, particularly about the bit where I was found to have been intersexed all along. Though taking into account how drastically I’d changed in a very short space of time, I’m amazed just how easily people believed it. I suppose the truth was just too unbelievable to be acceptable to their logical and rational minds.
We’d turned up at about four o’clock, having made an appointment to see Mr Matheson. When he came to the door of his house, he stared at us for a moment, not recognising me. Then he recognised my father and gaped when he looked back at me.
“Ah, now I begin to understand,” he said. “Come in, please.”
He was patient and quite kind, once the facts were revealed to him. He had been pestered by the press, and due to the police involvement, the board of governors had been giving him a hard time. I think they were afraid that there might be a scandal involving bullying or something worse.
The press had been interested, but after the police announced the case was closed, some other unfortunate sex scandal took pole position for their attention and I was forgotten.
“I didn’t want to cause a scene, and knew that if I involved the medical profession, then things would get out of hand. I just wanted to disappear and live my new life without causing anyone any fuss. I never thought the police would get involved. I suppose I just panicked,” I said.
Clearly I was no longer suitable to remain as a pupil here, as I was now the wrong gender. My father and the head briefly discussed refunds of fees and such things, and then we were finished.
“Philippa, I’m sorry that things happened the way they did, for I’m sure that if you’d have come to us as soon as it happened, we might have been able to smooth things out considerably. I now fully understand why you acted as you did, and am grateful that you managed to keep under the radar as far as the press was concerned. I can only wish you well in your new life and hope that your chosen career brings you success. You will understand if we don’t actually broadcast that you were once one of ours. This society we live in can be very unforgiving to those who fail to conform to the idea of the norm.”
We then left to go to my residential house to collect my belongings. Not that I wanted the clothes any more. As we walked out the door, saying goodbye to the headmaster, I saw my old friend Andy cairn walk past. I smiled and waved at him.
He stopped and stared at me with his mouth open.
“Hi Andy, remember me?”
“Shit, you’re back!”
“Looks like it, but only to collect my stuff. I can’t stay,” I said, gesturing at my female shape. “For obvious reasons. Besides, I owe you twenty quid in any case.”
“Twenty quid?” he asked, dumbly.
“Don’t you remember, you gave it to me so I could get away?”
“I did?”
“Yes, dumbo, you did.”
He smiled then, and it warmed my heart. This guy was my best friend and had been for years, it was so good to see him again.
My dad, having said goodbye to Mr Matheson, turned and saw me with Andy. He had known Andy for as long as I had.
“Hello Andrew, do recognise your old friend?” he said, clearly uncomfortable.
“Hi, Mr Coates, oh yes, once met, never forgotten.”
“Ah, I remember, you helped Pippa escape, didn’t you?”
“Um, put like that, I suppose I did.”
“Come on,” I said, “We’re going to the house to collect my stuff now, so we’ll give you a lift.”
The headmaster must have called the housemaster by telephone, for he was waiting outside his front door when we pulled up. Normally boys went in the side entrance, but this time I was permitted to enter with my father through the housemaster’s front door.
Mr Walmsley was one of the geography masters as well as being the housemaster of our house. His wife seemed to have a succession of babies ever since I arrived four years ago, as they now had three. I have no idea whether she worked at one time, as far as I can remember she was either pregnant of pouching a pram, or both!
I neither liked, nor disliked the man. He had taught me geography in my junior years at the school, which was not one of my favourite subjects, so I rarely crossed paths with him. He was the housemaster, so as a prefect, we had a meeting with him once a week, but apart from that we left each other alone.
“Mr Coates, good to see you,” he said, greeting my dad. Then he looked at me, as Andy made good his escape, with me promising to give him a call sometime.
“Ah, um, gosh, the headmaster was right, you have changed. This is quite remarkable, but how would you like me to address you?” he asked.
“Philippa is fine,” I said.
“Right then, Philippa it is. Well, come in as I’m eager to hear your story..”
Rolling my eyes at my father, I followed him to his study. As we went, there, in the middle of the hall, were my trunk and several cardboard boxes containing all my clothes and personal effects. Even my posters, stereo and comfy chair were sitting there waiting for us to remove them. I was pleased that we had a large estate car.
“I’ll get some of the boys to help load your car later,” Mr Walmsley told my father.
Mrs Walmsley joined us with a tray of tea. They sat and drank tea with my father as I repeated my story, yet again. Only this time I gave the sanitised version, so left out the sex and Thor.
Half an hour later, with a car load of my stuff, my father and I set off for home.
“There, that wasn’t too bad, was it?”
“I suppose not,” I agreed.
“So, what next?”
“I ought to go back to Edinburgh. I have a job to get back to.”
“I’m not altogether happy with you stopping your education so close to A levels,” he said.
“I know, you’ve told me several times. Look dad, I’m not saying I’ll stop my education, I’m just coming out so I can sort my life out. It may be that this acting thing fails miserably, in which case I’ll come back with my tail between my legs and look for a college to finish what I started or something.”
“It’ll be harder to get back into it if you do it that way. I still think you ought to consider just finishing your course at a girls’ school, and then look at this acting thing.”
“No, dad, I appreciate your concerns, but I’ve made my mind up.”
He was quiet for a while, giving me the silent treatment. I knew he didn’t like being stood up to, so I let him stew, as I was not going to give in to him.
In the event, he said nothing else for the rest of the journey, but my mind was whizzing about like anything, so I didn’t really notice. For some reason, I kept thinking of Andy. I made a mental note to contact him as soon as I could.
On our arrival back home, I noticed that my mother was much better. Whatever pills the doctor had prescribed and she had stopped taking were no longer having an effect on her. She was thinking clearly and seemed far more like her old self, except, if anything, she seemed to be more caring towards me. Maybe she had always been but I had chosen not to notice.
I insisted that I must keep to my word to return to Edinburgh. To my surprise, my mother volunteered to drive to toe the station. My father started to object, but realised that it was futile.
“Okay, fine, run away again, just when your mother needs you,” he said in a petulant tone of voice.
“Dad, who’s being the child now? I have a job to go to and someone waiting for me, so I have so much to sort out. I’ll come back next weekend, I promise,” I said.
“Do you want to bring your boyfriend?” my mother asked.
I saw the look of horror on my father’s face.
“No, I don’t think that would be a good idea just yet,” I said.
It was late by the time my train got in at Waverley Station. I’d actually enjoyed the short trip, as it gave me time to collect my thoughts. My mum had been more than helpful by driving me to the railway Station. Before we’d gone very far, she offered to drive me all the way to Edinburgh. I think she wanted to see Thor.
“No thanks, mum, I might as well use the return ticket as I’ve already paid for it.”
She drove in silence for a while, obviously trying to think of questions she wanted to ask. When they came, they came thick and fast.
“Tell me, dear, did you really always want to be a girl?”
“For as long as I can remember.”
“Why didn’t you tell us?”
“What would you have done?”
She shrugged.
“Hell, I don’t know, taken you to see a specialist, I suppose.”
“What kind of specialist?”
She looked at me sharply.
“Would you have taken me to see a gender specialist to help me change my gender? Or would you have taken me to a psychiatrist who you would have asked to put me straight?”
“Put like that, I suppose to the latter.”
“That’s why I never told you.”
“But they might have helped you,” she persisted.
“Helped me to do what? Your idea of help and mine would have been completely different. I’m a girl now, mum, but what you can’t seem to understand, inside me, I always have been. So no amount of counselling or psychiatric assistance would have changed that.”
“You might have been confused?”
“Mum, when you were young, did you know you were a girl?”
“Yes, of course, but I was one.”
“So was I. It was just my body lied.”
“Is this really what you want?” she asked.
“Absolutely. It’s what I always dreamed of, but knew would never happen. I tried to think of ways I could make it happen. I even looked at engineering an accident in the metal work shop at school, whereby I could sever my genitals and leave gender change as the only option left to the medical profession.”
“Oh, my God, you didn’t?”
“I did, but it was too risky.”
“I agree, you could have died.”
“It wasn’t that, the accident might not have been thorough enough and they could have saved my boy bits.”
“That’s awful, you might have been killed!”
“I thought about that a lot as well.”
“What, suicide?”
“Of course, when you’re trapped in a prison not of your own making, and there seems no way out, it is always an option to escape the unhappiness.”
“You were that unhappy?”
I thought about it for a moment.
“Yes, I was for most of the time. I tried to put it to the back of my mind. Sometimes I was successful when my mind was otherwise occupied, but when I stopped with time to think, it was always there. Night time was worst, as I spent most of it dreaming about being free.”
“Free; is that how you saw it?”
“Oh yes, I was trapped in a body as something I didn’t want to be. I had to conform to being what my body dictated as that was what was expected by everyone. It was awful. Not an hour in a day went past without me hoping that I could be a girl. It was even worse when I started getting bigger and stronger. I was turning into something I just didn’t want to be.”
“Were you, um, did you find other boys, um…?
“Was I attracted to other boys? No. I wasn’t a gay male. I was a girl trapped inside a boy’s body and so I just worked hard at being whatever everyone else decided was normal. At the end, as my body began to change into this, I started to see things from a different perspective. Even though I didn’t know what was happening, I started seeing life more as a girl. It was as if the male side of me started shrivelling up.”
“I don’t understand how this could happen.”
“Neither can I, but I don’t actually care, as I’m now exactly what I want to be.”
“If you could change back, and not feel you should be a girl, would you?”
“Why should I?”
“I’d like to know.”
“Then, no, even if I could change back, I wouldn’t. I’m finally the person I should have been. I wouldn’t change back even if you paid me a million pounds and I was never plagued by feeling trapped ever again. I don’t want to be a boy, don’t you understand?”
“No, frankly I don’t but then I suppose it’s not as important as you being happy,” she said with a funny smile.
“Look, I’m sorry this happened this way. I never meant anyone to get hurt. It was enough that I hurt ever single minute of every single day, but I was used to it. If I could go back in time, I might have been able to take away the feelings of being in the wrong body, but actually, I’m now happy so it’s just as well that time travel isn’t possible.”
She changed the subject then. We talked about my career path and what I hoped to achieve. The air was cleared somewhat, and we never went back to that subject again.
I arrived back at the flat late, to find Thor not there. I went round the corner to the pub in which he worked, to find him talking rather intimately to an attractive blonde girl in a very tight pair of jeans.
He appeared surprised and a little shocked to see me.
“Oh, Pippa, you came back?”
“Duh, I said I would, didn’t I?”
“Yes, but you were going to see your family.”
“Yes, and now I’ve seen them, I’ve come back.”
Appearing slightly embarrassed, he introduced me to Kara. The girl was another Norwegian, over as an exchange student and staying as an au pair with a family in Edinburgh until the college year started.
“Oh, how did you meet?” I asked her, aware that she had absolutely no idea who I was and how things were between me and Thor. Or should I say, how things were between me and Thor?
“I heard that there was this Norwegian working here, so I came to see him. He is nice, yes?”
It didn’t take an idiot to sense that the atmosphere was stilted and awkward; guessing that Kara was keen on Thor, (who could blame her, as he was a hunk) and Thor was keen on Kara. I regarded them for a moment and realised that in a very short time I had grown up a lot. I wasn’t in the mood to fight this woman for him. Either he came back to me and forgot her, or he didn’t. I found that I didn’t actually care as much as I thought I would. My attitude surprised and shocked me more than anything else.
Turning to Thor, I said, “I’m tired, as I’ve had a stressful couple of days. I’m going back to the flat. Don’t wake me up if I’m asleep when you come in.”
I turned and walked out, wondering if I would ever see him again.
Once more, I was surprised, for he came running after me. I had only gone a hundred yards when he came panting up behind me.
“Pippa, wait!” he said, grabbing my arm.
I looked at him, feeling remarkably calm.
“You get the wrong idea?”
“What idea is that then?” I asked.
“You think that me and Kara are, well, you think that we’re going behind you.”
“Are you?”
“No, we’re friends, that’s all.”
“Then that’s fine. Look, Thor, I’m not in the mood to have a fight over nothing, just make sure you tell me the truth, whatever happens, okay?” I said, gently removing my arm from his grip and walking off. He didn’t follow me and I didn’t turn round.
On returning to the flat, I felt remarkably at peace. I’d managed to deal with what I saw with calmness and a lack of emotion. It might well be they were just friends, but I know what I saw in her expression when she looked at him, and his smile to her said an awful lot as well. However, was I just being a little paranoid?
I found I didn’t care, and it scared me, as I thought he meant more to me than that. I tried to analyse my feelings and found that I still liked him and felt something towards him, but I now doubted that it was love. For a short time I had been very vulnerable and needed someone to bear the brunt of my self-doubt and self-worth. He’d been there for me when I needed him. I think I was there for him as well, so we filled a need in each other at the time.
Had that time passed and was I no longer in quite so much need?
I had no idea.
I went to bed, wondering whether I’d ever see him again.
As I drifted off to sleep, it was of my friend Andy that I thought.