A Difference Plane of Existence

by Karen Page

Part 4

 

*BEEP* *BEEP*

"What the..." mumbled Rachel as she grabbed her pager.

She rubbed her eyes and looked at the illuminated screen. It had one solitary word, "SIMON". She peered through bleary eyes to see the message time which was displayed in a small on the top right, "23:30".

Rachel straightened her clothes and walked smartly to the lift. Two minutes later a rather dishevelled Rachel appeared at the ward to find most of the patients had been awoken and occasional screams of terror emanating from Simons room. Her pace quickened as she heard the scream of absolute terror. As she opened to door her first sight was of Simon crouched beside a desk like he was trying to hide from something. His eyes were wide open with what could only be described as primordial fear. Jasmine was standing near him not knowing what to do.

"This wasn't in his medical notes," muttered Rachel as she watched Simon give another scream, jump over his bed and hide at the other side. It was as he was trying to avoid something.

"Simon, it's okay. We're here to help," soothed Rachel as she approached Simon. She crouched beside him and continued to utter southing statements. This continued for another five minutes as Simon gradually came down from his adrenaline induced high. He breathing began to settle.

"Help me put him back to bed," asked Rachel to Jasmine. As he was put to bed he fell back into his deep sleep.

They watched Simon for a minute before leaving him to his sleep. When they exited they noticed that the rest of the night staff had reassured the other patients and things were starting to quieten down.

"Don't tell me that was a nightmare."

"No, that had most of the symptoms of something called a night terror. It is very rare for people past 10 years old. Nightmares occur during REM sleep. Night terrors occur during the time of deepest non dreaming sleep. Even though his eyes were wide open he was actually fast asleep. You did the right thing by not trying to wake him up; that will just prolong the length of the episode. The best thing to do is to try and reassure them and calm them down. If you can get close, sometimes a hug will help but Simon appeared too terrified to even attempt any physical contact."

"Will he suffer more night terrors?

"It is rare to get a subsequent attack on the same night but he may get one tomorrow. For people that suffer from night terrors one of the items that can bring one on is extreme stress or anxiety. Tomorrow I'll work with him to try and work through more of his issues. It might be best for you to be with him when he wakes up as he will still have a lingering feeling of fear."

"After I pressed your emergency button you came very quickly. Didn't you go home?"

"No, several items gave me cause for concern so I decided to sleep on my office couch."

Rachel gave a stifled yawn. "I'm back off to my couch. See you at about eight in the morning."

As Rachel departed Jasmine settled down with an extra sweet cup of tea to continue with tomorrows work lists. She occasionally glanced up at the monitor and watched Simon sleep out the rest of night.

At about 6:45 she saw the first signs of Simon waking up. As he became aware of himself he started to shake from the residual fear. It was at this time that Jasmine slipped quietly into the room and sat on the edge of the bed next to Simon.

"It's okay," she comforted. "There is nothing to be frightened of."

Simon gave a snort of contempt. "I had a bloody night terror and you say there is nothing to worry about. Almost 7 years without one and now a night terror and a nightmare the night before."

"I'd been told people didn't remember having night terrors?"

"Generally people don't. I don't remember what occurred, however there are signs that show that I've had a night terror. I have a lingering feeling of fear and my clothes stink of dried sweat. Also I had Dr Ruiz's call bell on my side table but it is now on the windowsill."

Jasmine gave a small smile. "Well aren't you the little Sherlock? Will you be okay?"

"Yes. I used to suffer them on a semi regular basis till I was about six. They became less regular and I suffered my last one at about eight years old. I am wearily used to them."

"Well go and have a shower while I change the sheets. You know where the underwear is. Again, as Sally said, the choice of style is yours."

Simon nodded and padded into the en-suite. He lifted the toilet seat and reached to direct his penis in the correct direction. He reached through the fly in the underwear and found nothing. With a sigh he remembered why he was in hospital and feeling bereft for his familiar genitals lowered the bottom pan and sat down to urinate.

Again he winced as he wiped himself. His body emanated a slight shudder of revulsion during the process. After washing his hands he walked into the shower. On the shower ledge were three different shower gels of different scents. None were perfumed but were a mixture of slightly masculine and slightly feminine scented products. As he scrubbed his body he noticed that his beard was getting quite full. "I must remember to ask for a razor even if it is an electric variety," he thought to himself.

As soon as he was dry he wrapped the towel around his waist and entered his room. Jasmine had left after changing the bedding. Lying on top was a clean hospital gown. After putting on the gown he grabbed a clean pair of male briefs.

Just after he finished getting dressed there was a discreet knock on the door. "Breakfast," announced Jasmine as she entered the room. As she neared Simon she gave a discreet sniff to find out which shower gel he had used.

The sniff wasn't lost on Simon who gave a small laugh. "And I'm wearing male briefs so no trying to peak."

For a moment Jasmine looked a bit embarrassed but quickly changed the subject. "I caught sight of an early edition of some of the papers and it appears you have caused something of a rumpus. I also think one of the tabloids has launched a campaign to tighten up the law."

"I didn't mean to cause such a kafuffle. I just wanted to divert the issue from politics back to something positive."

"As far as I can tell it looks like your wish is coming true. I'm sure that Sally will know more as she often buys a paper on the way to work. Anyway, you had better eat up your breakfast. By the looks of today's schedule you will need all the energy you can get."

"What exciting things are going to happen today?"

"Well, Dr Millard is scheduled to examine how well you are healing. Then I believe Dr Ruiz has managed to shift most other cases to other colleagues, so you will be seeing a lot of her today."

Sally left Simon to eat his breakfast. After the first few mouthfuls the nausea that he had felt since the operation got worse. Simon ran for the bathroom and brought up a very bitter green mixture. "Just great", thought Simon. "What else could go wrong?"

 

 

At just past eight Sally arrived in the ward just as Rachel appeared.

"Ah, the gruesome twosome," quipped Jasmine and which Sally responded by sticking out her tongue.

"How did Simon get on?" asked Rachel.

"After you left he slept through till about seven. I've written up my version of last night's fun and also this morning's activity," informed Jasmine handing the observation file to Rachel.

Rachel read through it and handed it to Sally to read. Sally gasped in shock as she read about the previous night's activity. "I'd never heard of night terrors before reading this."

"They are pretty rare," responded Rachel.

"Did you bring your paper in this morning?" Jasmine asked Sally.

"Yes, do you want to borrow it?"

"I heard something on the radio earlier about somebody who had been injured in the plane disaster releasing a statement."

Sally pulled out the paper and there on the cover was the headline in large print, "Disaster Victim Lashes Out."

"I think you need your eyes checking," joked Rachel.

"The newspaper was folded and half stuck out of the door," responded Sally. "I just put it in my bag."

The article said:

Last night the person who had been trapped for 21 hours released a statement via Gatwick Airport press office. The press have been banned from revealing details of the person to protect them during their recovery from horrific injuries and the tragic loss of their parents.

Statement

"Two days ago my parents died a slow, horrible and painful death. They were trapped in a collapsed building for many hours, their lives slowly ebbing away. At the hour of my greatest need my mother, whom was trapped near by, kept me going by her shear will. While we were trapped my mother kept my spirits high by reminiscing over our wonderful life together. As she spoke to me she would have been in immense pain but she never let on. When she was pulled out of the wreckage her body was hardly recognisable as the beautiful women she was.

I could not have grown up to be how I am today without both of my parents. They were kind, loving and never judgemental; I will miss them terribly. As I recover from my life changing injuries I count my blessings that I am still alive but I just wish my parents were alive to help me adjust to my new life ahead.

Just before the accident I stood in the terminal building watching the plane land and taxi to deposit its passengers. There was an area to the right of the plane that appeared to have a lot of workers. As the airplane got close it changed direction to avoid the people. In my mind the captain worked hard to save, not just the people in the airplane, but ground staff. He should not be vilified but posthumously awarded as a hero. The captain didn't cause the accident but certainly did his best to save lives in an impossible situation.

My heart goes out to the wife and children that he leaves behind. I know what is like to loose somebody important and I just hope they one day recover. One of my grandfather's favourite sayings was not to morn the loss but celebrate the life. Remember the good times, the holidays, the love that you all had for each other. Hold on to those memories I know I will.

My thanks go out to all the people involved in my rescue. There are too many to mention and I probably don't know half of what happened on that fateful Saturday. My thanks also go to the medical people on site and those that have looked after me since. These people are often overlooked but without them I would not be here today. Long after a disaster is forgotten medical people are still helping the people injured and they should be saluted for their tireless work. The press often vilifies the NHS but it is in disasters like this that you see the system does work and is probably one of the best in the world.

The investigators quickly found the cause of the disaster; interference from people switching on their mobile phones. Mobile phones are not going to change and nor is the basic design of airplanes. Even if modifications could be made to either of the designs there are too many phones and planes for that to stop future occurrences. The only method to secure future flights is to make the penalty for using a mobile phone on a plane too high for people to even contemplate doing it.

Recently the government and opposition have starting using this disaster to rubbish each other. I was taught that one of the jobs of a government was to protect the interests of the public. However, turning this tragic event into a political circus act is not going to protect the public by stopping this occurring again. Focused debate is good as nobody has an exclusive on ideas but there is no sign of a constructive debate on how to protect the public. I am aware of the adage that a rushed law is often a bad law but at the moment there is not even any sign of a cross party body to examine how to improve the law.

The only thing I ask is that people observe directions not to turn on mobile phones until inside the terminal building. I would not like anybody else to suffer like I and the pilot's family are. I also ask that the government stops trying to keep there jobs and do their jobs, create a better law to help protect the people."

Comment

Both the transport and shadow transport ministers were unavailable to comment on the press release. Downing Street press office said they would examine the press release with interest.

 

 

Jasmine and Sally looked up from reading the article. "Aren't you going to read it?" Sally asked Rachel.

"I read it last night before speaking with Simons contact at Gatwick. However I want to read the rest of the article about others reactions."

When they had finished reading page 2 and 3 (the normal page 3 article had been relegated to page 7) Jasmine concluded, "Well Simon certainly appears to have stirred up a hornets nest."

"Well I just hope that it gives him a bit of relief from his pent up emotions," explained Rachel. "I am due to see Simon at ten; would it be possible for you to show it him before that?"

"No problem," responded Sally. "I'll take it in when I collect his breakfast items."

Rachel departed for her first visit of the day and Jasmine started her handover to Sally.

 

 

"Good morning, Simon."

"Hi, Sally."

"I see you put that paper to good use yesterday," started Sally. "Have a look at the newspaper."

Simon looked at the paper as Sally slipped out with the breakfast items. He checked the statement for completeness; it was all there. He then read the other items regarding his statement.

"I can't believe that they have published this," said Simon to Sally who had just re-entered his room.

"It wasn't just this newspaper. It is in all the broadsheets as well as all the tabloids."

Simon tuned into the news channel on the television. There was a discussion with technical experts about what could be done to stop mobile telephones interfering with airplane systems. I gave a small grin of satisfaction and switched it off.

"You look rather pleased with yourself."

"I can't believe that my small statement has done this. I just wanted people to look forward and stop anybody else suffering like I have. Nobody should loose their parents at such an early age."

 

 

"I didn't think that consultants started this early," quipped Simon as Tom Millard entered the room along with Sally and another lady.

"It's 9:30 so it isn't that early. Anyway my wife kicked me out of bed."

"Oh well, you can get to the golf course early".

Sally and the other lady looked a bit shocked at the banter.

"I only play golf once a week. I normally work at least a 40 hour week. I don't trust my junior doctors that much!" responded the doctor with a grin on his face. "Anyway let me introduce Dr Barbara Smith, she assisted with the transplant."

"Can you please slip off you underwear so the two doctors can examine you," requested Sally as she pulled down the inspection lamp.

Dr Smith face looked surprised when she saw Simon was wearing male underwear. Sally signalled to her not to say anything.

"Excellent work," said Barbara to Tom as she examined his results of the surgery. "It looks like the transplant has taken well. There are no signs of rejection. Has a pelvic examination been performed?"

"No," replied Dr Millard. "It is still quite tender so I would prefer it to wait for a few weeks."

Dr Smith lifted the gown slightly. "I see the lower abdomen is healing nicely. I would say that these stitches can be removed in about five to seven days."

"So apart from the abdomen stitches to be removed and checks by a gynaecologist do you have any objections to Simon being discharged from our care?"

Barbara flinched at the use of the male name. She pondered this for a moment, "No, I've no objection to her being discharged."

Simon winced at the use of the female pronoun, "So what happens to me now?" asked Simon.

"Well, you are physically healing and don't need to be under my care. I am however aware that there are mental wounds that need to heal and so you will be under the care of Dr Ruiz. I believe she will be with you shortly to discuss things further."

 

 

As Sally and the two doctors left Simons room Tom Millard turned and said very formally, "Dr Smith, please accompany me to my office."

This wasn't a request. Barbara could tell that something had upset the doctor and the way she was being addressed she was the cause.

Tom sank into his seat and looked intently at Barbara. After a minute of tense silence Tom asked, "What is the aim of a doctor?"

Barbara looked surprised at the question, "Er...To treat anybody requiring medical help no mater their race, gender or religion."

"Not a bad description," agreed Tom. "How should this be carried out?"

"Caringly. The treatment should be carried out in a compassionate manner, taking into account not just the medical needs of the patient, but respecting any other issues such a religious restrictions. Above all it is important to respect the wishes of the patient."

"So respect of the patient is important?"

"Yes," replied Barbara unsure where this was leading.

"So why did you fail to show respect to Simon?"

Barbara reviewed in her mind the preceding conversation, "In what way was I disrespectful?"

"There were two disrespectful occurrences. Firstly, you didn't look too pleased to see Simon wearing male briefs. Fortunately Simon didn't see this."

"I was surprised at the male briefs but that didn't stop me treating him with respect."

Tom paused for a moment. "Tell me about the patient we are going to operate on this afternoon."

"Hilda Jones is a 35 year old. She has been on HRT for 3 years. The operation is a standard penile inversion. There doesn't appear to be any complicating factors."

"Hilda still has a penis yet your said 'SHE'. Why?"

"A person's anatomy is not the issue. What is in the mind and soul is. Hilda might still have a penis but is defiantly a woman. What has this to do with...Oh; I referred to Simon in the feminine. Yes, I agree, I was disrespectful."

Hilda lowered her head in shame while Tom watched as she reviewed, in her mind, the conversation at Simon's examination. "You only made the one verbal mistake," reassured Tom. "I know that it can easily become habit to refer to all our patients as female. However please remember that all patients are individuals and each has their own needs. Simon is an unusual case so we have to make that little bit extra effort."

 

 

At ten Dr Ruiz knocked and entered to find Simon reading. He looked up and asked, "Is it that time already?"

Rachel took a seat opposite Simon, "I'm afraid so. How did you get on with Dr Millard?"

"He said I've physically healed enough and has discharged me. Apparently I am now under your care."

"That is correct. I spoke with Dr Millard yesterday and we agreed that when you where physically healed you would be handed over. I didn't think it would be so soon."

"So what happens to me now? Do you put me in a padded cell?"

"Why are you a danger to yourself or others?"

"I think you understand me enough by now to know that I am a fighter. I might be upset about what has happened to me but suicide is not an option. I also might have played rugby and be quite large but I'm not violent."

"Then I don't think the padded cell will be needed. I want to help you come to terms with your unwanted change. Locking you up will not help you but torment you. How we progress is up to you."

Simon thought for a moment and nodded. Rachel continued with, "What level of rugby did you play?"

"For the last two years I've played for the school team. For the last six months I have played for the county schools team."

"That is quite impressive for somebody who isn't yet sixteen. People don't normally play at county level till seventeen or eighteen."

"It took a lot of practice. The fitness level required took a lot of patience to reach. This is one of the reasons I was upset when I first met you. It appeared that my life has been a waste; I won't be able to play like I used to."

"There are girl's rugby teams."

"Yes but I wasn't born as a woman so will not be able to compete as a woman. Since I no longer produce testosterone I will not be able to physically compete as a male. I don't have a future with rugby or any competitive game. Since sport was my life then I don't have any life."

Simon reached across and took a drink of water. His heart was beating furiously as he instantly regretted what he said.

"So do you want to end your life?"

Simon appeared to ponder on the question for a few seconds before replying, "I'm not going to commit suicide. I may not have my dream of rugby but that was never a realistic future. I may have been good enough to play for the county but club rugby was never a realistic goal. Rugby gave me a lot other than enjoyment and fitness; it taught me self control, patience, the ability to concentrate on a task and most important, never to give up hope."

Rachel pondered. Yes he might be good at rugby but he also appeared to be intelligent, forthright and articulate. Not the signs of somebody who concentrated on the singular task or playing rugby.

"Did your parents encourage your rugby playing?"

"Both of them did. I was always quite surprised that mum encouraged me as much as my dad. Both of them were always at the matches supporting me. However they were both also very firm about my academic work. Evening runs couldn't occur until homework and studying had been completed. They also threatened to stop me attending rugby practice if my grades dropped. This kept me achieving when other players concentrated just on sport."

"Did your parents ever carry out their threat?"

"No. I know they always kept their word so I never let my grades slip."

"You said earlier that you knew your future wasn't in rugby. What did you envisage as your future career?"

"I currently do well in four main subjects; biology, chemistry, maths and computing. This gives me plenty of leeway to decide on my career when I have completed my exams. I don't take my GCSE's till next year so I have plenty of time."

Rachel paused gathering her thoughts on the next line of discussion. Simon obviously had targets outside his rugby and appeared stable enough. Wanting to leave the repercussions of Simon's operation till last Rachel decided to enquire more about the previous night's laughter.

"Yesterday before I saw you in the evening I heard you laughing at a radio program. However when I came in it was evident that you had cried a lot during the afternoon. What made you put on the radio comedy?"

"My grandfather, as he was dying, said to not morn the dying but to celebrate the good of their life; remember the fun things not the funeral. One of the things my father introduced me to was the radio comedy 'I'm Sorry I Haven't a Clue'. When it was on we tried to make time and listen to it together. Last night I was trying to remember the fun things I did with my parents and not them dying. Talking of my parent's death, do you have details about their funeral?"

"The funeral will be arranged by Social Services as the only surviving family, you, are under 16. They are organising that your parents bodies be transferred to you home town. The nature and date of the funeral has yet to be finalised. Some children find it too difficult to deal with the death of their parents so don't want to be involved. Do you want to attend the funeral and do you want to be involved with the arrangements?"

"Yes to both," responded Simon. "I am surprised that Social Services have yet been in contact."

"They have but until you had fully recovered from the operation Dr Millard refused them access. Since you discharged from Dr Millard it is up to me to decide if you are mentally well enough to deal with some of these issues. So far you appear to have handled the death of your parents well. You have been grieving over their death but don't appear to have gone of the deep-end. However I need to know how you're dealing with your change of sex."

Simon paused for a moment, considering how to put into words the conflicting feelings that had been confusing him over the last few days. He rose from his rather comfortable chair and gazed out of the window at the clouds scurrying across the sky.

"I've struggled with a conflict within myself over the last few days. I've always enjoyed the thought that one day I would become a parent, well a father. When I was told that the building collapse probably removed my chance of being a parent I was very despondent. When I came round from the operation I was informed that my penis had been removed and to most people I was now a girl. On top of that my parents were both dead. I have never felt so down and alone. Then, as if from nowhere, I am told that I can have children. I was still sad but there was hope; all by dreams where not gone."

"Why is being a parent so important to you?"

"I don't know," replied Simon with a shrug. "It is that life is so precious. If a child can be raised in a loving, caring way it appears to be really rewarding. I noticed how my parents really gave all their love to me. My conception was an accident that occurred soon after they got married. Until recently my parent's jobs were very poorly paid and where unable to give me much accept love. When there was a school trip they often scrimped to save up for the cost. There was one thing that I had that a lot of other children didn't have, was a lot of unconditional love. Since my parents have become more affluent they started trying for another child but were never successful. As I've seen my parents get so much from raising me I always wanted the same."

"Let me summarise," injected Dr Ruiz. "You want to be a parent but don't want to be female. However you have a conflict as you know that you could never be a parent if you had stayed male."

"Yes," responded Simon with a gust of pain.

"So would you want your womb removed and a fake penis created?"

"No."

"Why not?" shot back Rachel before Simon's utterance had even finished being spoken.

"Because I couldn't become a parent."

"So being a parent is more important to you than being a man?"

"Yes...No...Oh I don't' know."

"So do you want to be a woman?"

"No."

"Why not? You said you didn't want to be a man."

"I don't want to be a woman. The only reason I don't want you back to a man is so I can have a child."

"So what do YOU want?"

"I don't know. I've been thinking about this but it just gets too complex and too hurtful."

"Is you parents desire for a second child influencing your decision?"

"I don't know." Simon walked back to his chair and sat down looking at the psychiatrist. "One thing I do know is that I don't want any more surgery till I know what I want."

"That I think is very sensible," replied Dr Ruiz. This boy never ceased to amaze her. Not that she would have authorised such surgery until he was eighteen.

"I take it I am now producing female hormones?"

"Yes. It will take a few more days to impact your body but yes your body is no longer producing a normal male amount of testosterone. Your dominant hormone will be oestrogen."

"So will I develop breasts?"

"After a few months slight breast growth would be expected."

"What about my voice?"

"That has already broken. This will not make it any higher."

"What about facial hair?"

"No, that will not disappear."

"Damn," complained Simon. "Even when I was male I always hated shaving."

"So why didn't you grow a beard?"

"That was even worse. I think people how grow beard's are lazy. They just can't be bothered to share. A beard also makes a person look shifty. It looks like they have something to hide."

"So even if you went back to being a man you wouldn't want to have a beard?"

"No."

"So if you had electrolysis to remove your beard you would not be unhappy?"

"No. It would make passing as a girl easier. It would also make my life easier if I decided to become a man again."

"You mean you are lazy but don't want to show it?"

"I think that about sums it up," said Simon with a slight smile in his voice. He then continued in a more serious tone, "What will happen to me? I can't go to a children's home as a girl as I don't look or act like one. I also can't go as a man as I'm no longer equipped to do that and in a few months will have extra attributes which would make passing as a man almost impossible."

"So if you could pass as a girl you would live that way?"

"I don't know. I would give it a try. I think it is the only way I would know which is more important; being a man or being a parent."

Another hour of questioning followed and my mind started to feel numb. Noticing this Rachel said, "Let's have a break for lunch. I'll make some phone calls and see what we can arrange."

After the effects of breakfast on his nausea Simon was very reluctant to eat much lunch. He pushed it around his plate thinking more about the earlier chat with Dr Ruiz. Was he making the correct decision? Dr Ruiz didn't reject or validate anything during the discussion; she just kept asking question after question.

After about half an hour Sally came to collect the lunch tray. "Are you feeling okay?" she asked seeing only a fraction of the meal eaten.

"I've been feeling a bit sick since yesterday. Today I was sick at breakfast but it didn't help and still feel nauseas."

"Dr Millard said that this might be expected as your body adjusts to the new hormone regime. You body will be receiving unexpected high levels of female hormones. Till your body gets used to it you might feel sick. I'll check with the doctor and see what he advices."

"Well Simon," started Dr Ruiz on her return from lunch. "I've had quite a productive hour and have tentatively arranged some things. All of this is subject to your approval. At about three this afternoon I have arranged for somebody to see you regarding electrolysis. She will discuss the process with you and if you agree make a start."

"Is all the electrolysis going to be done here? We talked about me leaving hospital?"

"Calm down and let me finish. I've also talked to a lady called Kelly Baxter who runs a special tuition in helping tomboys become ladies. This normally runs during the long summer break. During the rest of the year she operates as an adviser to companies on transsexuals. She'd be delighted to assist you in learning how to integrate yourself into school life as a girl. How much of a girl you become is up to you. If at anytime you want to stop and revert to life as a male then that is fine."

"When would I start? Also what do I do about my identification? My birth certificate says Simon and lists me as male."

"If you agree to this then Kelly would come to collect you tomorrow morning. As to your identification you can change your name via a Deed Poll or via a Statutory Declaration. With either method you end up with an official document stating your name change. You can use that to request changes to your passport and bank details. However you can't currently change your birth certificate. There is a Bill before parliament called the Gender Recognition Bill. If the bill is passed then it will allow controlled changes, via a committee, to your birth certificate. Till the law is passed just use your changed passport for identification purposes. Kelly is an expert in this and will assist you tomorrow."

"Talking of identification, I've come up with a new name. If I'd been born as a girl my parents would have called me Charlotte Allison Turner. That is what I'll change my name to."

"Well Charlotte," said Dr Ruiz with a nice smile. "It's nice to meet you."

There was a knock on the door and after Dr Ruiz shouted "ENTER" Sally popped her head round.

"I've got an Angela to see Simon regarding electrolysis."

"We've just finished," said Rachel beckoning Sally into the room. "Simon has agreed to go and stay with Kelly to see if he can cope with living as a girl. Simon has decided to change his name to Charlotte."

"So who won the sweep stake?" asked Charlotte.

"You knew about THAT?" chocked Sally turning bright red.

"Where my dad worked you couldn't go for more than a few weeks without there being a sweep stake on something. There were the usual things, such as a sweepstake for the Grand National, but other things like babies names etc."

"I'll have to look up the winner in the book at reception. I'll let you know later. One thing I do know is that the winner isn't me."

Sally and Rachel left the room and I awaited Angela to appear. "This is the first voluntary change to make me fit in better as a woman," thought Simon and he nervously waited. The nausea that he was feeling was getting worse and he rushed to the toilet and brought up the little lunch he'd eaten.

  

  

  

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