Elizabeth Grey:The Lady Is Waiting

by Carmenica Diaz

 

Part 02: What's wrong with your voice?

 

Dinner was a very dull affair and I wasn't certain what I could say in front of Jeremy so I kept silent. Thankfully, Jeremy didn't and he spoke non-stop about movies (he absolutely loved Amadeus) and that new singer Boy George and, seemingly, anything that popped into his head.

All the time he spoke, he stole glances at me, deep looks that seemed to cut through him and then he would almost shake his head as if to clear it of unwanted thoughts.

As I ate I watched him from the corner of my eye and wondered about him. On the surface, he appeared almost vapid and airy but I suspected it was all an act and underneath was a mind like a steel trap and a very capable person. And, I constantly wondered, who was Emma? Did I hear him correctly – it was Emma wasn't it?

'I think,' Jeremy announced, 'that George Michael is the most attractive man I have ever seen.'

I made myself concentrate on the conversation. 'Who's George Michael?'

He looked at me aghast. 'The singer in Wham, dear girl! Not the tall one, that's Andrew, no the short one that sings. Can you do something about your voice, my dear?' he added suddenly.

'He'll have a voice coach the day after tomorrow,' Angela volunteered absently and I wondered what she was thinking. I looked at her and, for a moment she appeared lost and afraid.

'Yes, I know,' Jeremy said, 'but he might as well try now. Try to talk from your throat, dear girl.'

Dear Girl! I blushed. 'I don't know what to say…'

'Say, I think George Michael has the cutest bottom.'

'I can't say that!'

'Why ever not? Come on, dear, from the throat.'

I stared down at the tablecloth and mumbled, 'I think George Michael has the cutest bottom.'

'Not bad, but hardly from the throat, come on, try it again.'

'I think George Michael has the cutest bottom!'

'Very good,' Jeremy beamed. 'Now, let's keep that voice from now on and the coach will do wonders for you.'

Angela was staring at me and I looked down. 'That was very good,' she said after a moment and I looked up and tried to smile.

'Those glasses don't suit you at all,' Jeremy said, munching on a piece of bread.

'I don't like them either,' I said and was surprised that the voice came to me so easily.

After dinner, I stood uncertainly in the sitting room, wondering what I should do next, furtively glancing at myself in the mirror. Allan Stratton, I said silently, you look like a woman. It was then I knew I couldn't think of myself as a woman when I used my real name. I have to have a new name, I realised, I wonder what Angela has planned.

And then again, there was that small triumphant voice within me, the voice that had nagged me over the years, that said gleefully, you pass!

Jeremy was on the telephone while he watched me walk through the room. Angela beckoned me to follow her to another room, a room that looked like a study or a small library. 'Sit there,' she said, pointing at a chair next to the desk as she slipped on rubber gloves. 'I need some blood samples.'

'Whatever for?'

'Remember you said you would do whatever it takes?'

'Of course but…'

'I need some blood samples,' she repeated firmly and, sighing, I gave her my hand. Expertly, she took the samples and I turned my head away. 'You doing very well with the voice,' Angela said after a moment, head down over my hand.

'Thank you,' I said. 'Ouch!'

'Sorry. That's it.' Angela labelled the last container and looked at me. 'I suggest you get a good night's sleep. It will be a big day for you tomorrow.'

'You worry me when you say things like that.'

'Nothing to be worried about,' she said evasively.

I stood up. 'Angela,' I asked hesitatingly, 'what name will I…'

'You'll know that tomorrow night. The documents and records are being made or altered as we speak.' Angela said in a business like manner as she picked up the telephone receiver from the desk. 'Now, I have to make some calls…'

'Of course, goodnight.'

Slowly I walked up the stairs to my bedroom. My feet hurt like hell and I couldn't breathe properly but every time I saw my reflection, I smiled.

Jeremy bustled into my room and laid a plain white night gown with blue flowers embroidered around the bust on the bed. 'Wear this tonight, dear and here are your instructions,' he said, sticking a piece of paper to the bathroom mirror. 'Follow these instructions to clean your face. You must do it every night!'

'Ok,' I nodded. 'Can you help me out of the corset?'

I began to pull the dress over my head when Jeremy stopped me. 'No, not like that, like this,' he mimed showing me how to cross my arms downwards instead of up.

I did it and he smiled. 'You are a quick learner. Now, let me get this off you.' His fingers worked on the corset and I sighed in relief when I could breathe properly again.

He was staring at me again, I couldn't help myself and asked softly, 'Jeremy, who do I look like?'

He blinked and tried to smile. 'Look like? My dear girl…'

'Tell me,' I asked gently.

Jeremy opened his mouth, closed it again, looked at the wall and then smiled at me, saying, 'you look like a woman, dear. Now, sleep well but don't forget to clean your face!'

'I won't.'

'I'll wake you at seven and I'll show you how to do your face. Goodnight my dear.'

 

It felt like I was asleep for only ten minutes when Jeremy flew in again, pulled the curtains back and pushed me into the shower. 'Shower cap!' he screamed at me and I quickly complied.

'Now,' he said as he sat me down in front of the mirror, 'here are your instructions for making up your face.' Jeremy taped another sheet on instructions to the side of the mirror. 'From tomorrow, you will do your face and if it's not up to scratch, Angela will send you back up to do it again. I think she has all the signs of a classic bitch, my dear,' Jeremy confided.

'I know,' I said dryly, staring at the mirror.

'If she does, you clean your face,' he said pointing at the instructions he had given me the night before, 'as per these instructions and then redo your face as per these instructions. Ok?'

'I get it,' I muttered sulkily.

'I'm so glad and don't forget the voice, dear. You were wonderful last night, pity to spoil it by being grumpy. Now, I'll take you through it and show you. We'll use that magnifying mirror but you must check your makeup when you're finished with your glasses on. Let's begin.'

It wasn't rocket science and I thought I would be able to do it or so I initially thought. I focussed on Jeremy's voice and peered into the mirror to watch what he was doing to me. 'You have rather nice eyes so we'll make them look bigger…'

On and on he went. 'You have full lips as well, it's almost as if you were born to be…the nose is just perfect…' I was nonplussed when he finished, I looked so different! 'I'll never be able to do it as well as that,' I mumbled miserably.

'Of course you will,' he laughed gaily, 'it's just practice. Now, you hide the old fellow,' he said with a wink at my groin, 'and I'll get the corset.'

 

Angela was seated at the breakfast table nibbling on toast and talking to an older man when Jeremy and I entered. The man looked at me and then questioningly at Angela, surprise on his face and Angela nodded at him.

I nodded to them and poured a cup of tea and then sat down with some toast. We ate in silence and I could feel the man's eyes on me. I couldn't eat more than a piece of toast, it was probably the stupid corset.

'Are you ready, Jeremy?' Angela asked and Jeremy smiled.

'Ready to go and she'll be gorgeous when I've finished.'

'Not too gorgeous,' Angela quickly warned, 'she has to merge into the background, not stand out, remember.' I looked at her, wanting to scream out that I wanted to be gorgeous but bit my tongue and studied the tablecloth.

Jeremy shrugged. 'Pity, she has potential but you're the boss.'

Angela looked at me. 'This is a doctor, he needs to examine you before you spend the day with Jeremy.' I opened my mouth to ask questions but something in those cold eyes of hers stopped me and, instead, I meekly nodded.

He examined me in the study without a word. 'I'm going to give you a shot,' he said without any warning, 'it's slightly experimental but appropriate in this case. I've examined the blood tests and this shot will assist you in your mission.'

'What is it?' I asked fearfully, surprising myself that I kept the female voice.

He nodded approvingly when I spoke. 'Among other things, it's female hormones,' he said bluntly. 'It will not make a huge difference but it will assist recovery and formation after surgery…'

'Surgery!'

'Nothing will happen without your approval,' he said in an attempt to reassure me. However, his offhand and cold manner did nothing to reassure me and I began to be even more worried. 'This formula,' he said casually preparing the hypodermic, 'will assist over time, there will be no immediate results but there will be gradual changes. Bend over.'

I wanted to protest, to scream and run from the room but a picture of my mother with her thick cane seated at a funeral flashed before my eyes. 'Can this be reversed,' I asked softly and he glanced at me, then nodded slowly. Was he lying, I wondered, is this an elaborate con game? Maybe, I should just tell them I quit, that I don't wish to continue? That voice came back and slyly asked, but you don't want to, this is more about you now than Edward, isn't it?

Reluctantly, I bent over and winced when he jabbed me. 'You'll require a shot every day,' he said as he packed his bag. 'Angela will give it to you.'

Watching him walk out without a backward glance, I wondered what was happening, where was I heading and had I done the right thing?

'All right?' Jeremy asked with a bright smile as I walked out.

'I have to call my mother.'

Jeremy glanced at Angela. 'Of course, dear…but now? We have things to do…'

'I have to call her!'

They showed me the telephone and I called her. 'Hello Mum,' I said softly, relief flooding through me at the sound of her voice.

'Allan? What's wrong with your voice?'

'I have a cold. I'm still working on everything but I may be away for a few weeks. I'll try to call when I can.'

'A few weeks? Should I worry?'

'No,' I forced a laugh, 'of course not. I'm just investigating stuff, talking to people.'

''Oh that's good,' Mum said with obvious relief, 'I thought you were going to dash off to Russia or something.'

'Me?' I laughed again but it sounded shrill even in my ears. 'I don't think so.'

We chatted for a few minutes about normal things and for a few brief moments, life was normal. Mrs Pratt, Mum's neighbour had the 'flu, the Thomson girl down the street was pregnant and Margaret Thatcher was ruining the miners.

I rang off and followed Jeremy to the room he had worked on me the day before and vowed I'd follow his instructions, just to get it over with.

He attacked my hair again and wove some extra hair, hair extensions he called it in and my hair was suddenly thicker. He spent a little time on my eyebrows and eye lashes, then my nails, fingers and toes. He fixed the long nails to my fingers; they were a cherry colour, and I looked at them. 'This won't effect my playing will it?'

'What do you mean?'

Perhaps, he doesn't know what I'll be doing, I thought, Angela did say not to tell him anything. Sod it! He's the only friendly face around here!

'I play the piano and if all this is successful, I'll be joining a band,' I volunteered and waited for his reaction.

'There are women piano players, aren't there?' he asked calmly and I nodded slowly, looking at my fingers.

'Are these permanent?'

'Dear, if you're worried you won't be able to remove them, don't. They do come off in time.'

Jeremy didn't even ask before he pierced my ears and I suddenly had earrings.

'Now,' he said seriously, 'this is the difficult bit.'

'What?' I said worried.

'Waxing and electrolysis, it will be a rather trying day for you.' He looked at me with an expression of tenderness for a moment and then it vanished. 'It will hurt a little, I'm afraid.'

'Oh,' I said softly.

 

The rest of the day was a blur of pain and boredom. At one point, Jeremy patted my arm as tears flowed and said, 'it's all right to cry, dear, one of the advantages of being a girl.'

Finally, he produced a new grey skirt and a pale blouse. 'Let's try something different,' he said with a smile.

I stared at myself in the mirror and Jeremy slipped an arm around me so he too could see the reflection. 'You are stunning,' he smiled. He kept staring and then he turned away, to hide something.

I had to admit that I didn't look too bad. I looked like a woman you would see on the tube who was going to work in a solicitor's office or something like that. Warmly sexy, not glamorous but definitely a woman.

'Not shabby,' was all I could say, pleased.

'I could make you more glamorous but Angela said no,' he said apologetically and I shrugged.

'I think this will do.'

Angela thought so too when we joined her for dinner. I hurt all over, the waxing and the electrolysis and the shoes but I also felt very proud that I had achieved this, that I was believable. I can pass, a voice inside me kept say with glee, I can!

'Incredible,' was all she said before she returned to her meal.

Thank you for the compliment, I inwardly fumed but tried to eat something instead, a few kind words wouldn't go astray, you know!

After dinner, I followed her beckoning finger to the study once again. 'No more blood tests?' I asked sarcastically and she smiled quickly.

'No, I think we're through with that but I do have your hormone shot. Where do you want it?'

It seemed undignified to bend over and pull up my skirt to this woman I thought despised me for some reason. 'In the arm,' I said softly. I looked away; I can't stand needles and winced when it went in.

'Keep your finger on it for a moment. You asked last night about your name?'

'Yes?' I was suddenly eager to hear the name I would use.

Angela picked up a folder and read from it, although I suspected she didn't need to. 'Your name is Elizabeth Anne Grey.'

'Elizabeth Anne Grey?' I rolled it through my mind. Elizabeth! I must admit I quite liked it. And the Anne Grey struck close to home and I wondered if that was on purpose?

'Yes, Elizabeth,' Angela said in that cold businesslike way of hers. 'Jeremy and I will call you that now,' she said, suddenly a little uncomfortable. 'I have all your documentation, passport, birth certificate and everything…'

'How did you do that?'

'Never you mind but it is here and I'll give it to you at the end of our time here. Let me tell you that Elizabeth Grey is, as far as the Soviets and immigration authorities are concerned, real! I have a folder with your history in it. Learn it and I will be quizzing you all the time. You must be perfect in it! Understand? Your life could depend on it.'

'Yes,' I said, taking the folder and suddenly eager to learn about myself, my life.

'Now, tomorrow the voice coach will spend the morning with you and then there will be a medical procedure in the afternoon.'

My heart quickened. 'Medical procedure, is this surgery?' I asked, suddenly remembering what the doctor had said.

'A small surgical procedure which is reversible,' Angela quickly added and I could tell she was nervous. There were times when I saw glimpses of what I guessed were the real Angela, the Angela I saw was a facade, a hard shell to keep me at bay.

'What are you talking about?' I was blustering, I think I knew or perhaps guessed but wanted to hear her say it.

'It's breast augmentation; it's a simple procedure, although it's radically new. The doctor thinks the skin thickness and characteristic makeup will enable…'

'Characteristic? What character…'

'The doctor pointed out that you have breast tissue that can be augmented. Apparently,' she said, reading from a piece of paper, 'you have some female characteristics...'

I blushed; it was the same old thing about my size and shape. 'I suppose it's an advantage that I didn't inherit Edward's characteristics.'

Angela looked at me. 'Yes,' she said evenly, 'I suppose it is. I must point out the procedure is not entirely legally sanctioned but will be able to provide you with small breasts. I think A or B cup at the maximum?

'A Cup?' I asked stupidly.

'Nothing bigger, perhaps smaller I'm afraid but it will do and you'll have breasts that will pass inspection. You'll be a bit sore the next day or so and there will be bruising but it'll be gone by the time you leave. Elizabeth,' she said suddenly and I stiffened at the use of my new name, 'the breasts will make you real, perhaps save your life if you are searched or sharing a room with…'

'I'll do it,' I said suddenly, head bowed. Fleetingly, I wondered how I would explain all this to Edward when I saw him or, worse, to Mum! Worse still, how do I explain that I wanted the breasts?

'Elizabeth?' Angela's voice was soft, almost timid. 'Are you…'

'I said I'd do it!' I turned away; afraid that the strange tickling I felt in my eyes were tears.

'Look, Elizabeth…' Angela began again in that unusual voice but I walked out of the room, going quickly to my room.

I followed the instructions and cleaned my face. Then I stood naked in front of the mirror and stared at my body. It wasn't much, I knew that but my Elizabeth hairstyle looked at home on top of my body, a body that had generated a few jeers in the change rooms at school. Tomorrow, I mouthed in the mirror, I will have breasts! I didn't know whether I was happy or sad.

 

The next morning I walked nervously down the stairs having dressed myself and applied my face as per Jeremy's instructions and now, I awaited the verdict.

Jeremy smiled up the stairs. 'Not bad, dear…'

'It's terrible,' Angela said sharply but avoiding my eyes, 'you look like a tart! Think understated, for god's sake! Go back and do it again.'

I turned around and walked back up the stairs. Slumping in front of the mirror, I dropped my glasses on the bench top and began to clean my face. She's such a bitch, I thought furiously as I worked, she hates me!

Slowly, I walked down the stairs again. Jeremy was hovering at the bottom and when he saw me, smiled hopefully. Angela stood by the banisters, fingers tapping as she waited. Her eyes ran over me, a flicker and then she nodded abruptly. 'That is better,' she said and walked off.

A relieved Jeremy hugged me and we walked in to a late breakfast.

 

The voice coach was a lady who was the hardest woman I have ever met! She was ruthless and after four hours with her I was about to die!

'Irene,' I said but she pounced.

'Elizabeth, please pronounce my name with the correct 'R'. I have explained this to you I think?'

'Yes,' I said sullenly, 'you have.'

 

The doctor was waiting for me at lunchtime and I felt my heart sink. 'We have to go by car, I'm afraid,' he said quickly and I nodded.

I didn't say a word as I rode alone in the back seat of the car, watching the countryside roll past until we pulled into a low white building.

Numb, I followed him to a room where I was prepared and then I sank into a welcoming blackness.

The room was white with soft white gauze curtains and a Monet print on the wall. I was still groggy; my chest hurt like hell and my tongue felt like it had a mouldy growth covering it. My stomach also threatened to rebel but I was awake, barely.

A frighteningly cheerful nurse greeted me and explained what I could and could not do. I ignored her and after going to the toilet, crept back into the bed and careful of my tender chest, fell asleep again.

Shockingly, the next morning Irene appeared at my bedside and began tutoring me again. 'Irene, please go away…'

'Can you please pronounce the 'R' correctly? I do not know how many times I have to remind…'

'Irene!'

'Now, that is so much better. You have a lovely voice, a real lilt.'

'You think?'

Irene was about to say something when Angela appeared with the hormone injection. I groaned and turned over. 'Now,' she said after injecting me, 'where were you born?'

'Go away!' I groaned.

'Elizabeth! Where were you born?'

'London,' I answered grumpily, remembering the script.

'And that voice was wonderful,' Irene noted.

 

The doctor allowed me to go the next day but not before giving me instructions to care for my new equipment. 'I've been told you'll only require those,' he said nodding at the bandaged breasts, 'for a month at the most. Anything over that is not advisable and I suggest that you have them removed as soon as possible. There is danger involved here. Understand?' I nodded. 'Don't come looking for me, this is my last job for you people, I'm rather tired of the whole thing. They will have to find you a new doctor.' He stared at me for a moment and then said, 'Goodbye,' and walked off.

 

Two days later I stared at my small naked and bruised breasts in the mirror. I had locked the door, keeping Jeremy on the other side while I looked. The doctor had calmly said the bruising would vanish by the end of the following week but, although they were quite small, it felt strange, very strange.

It was also strange how they all treated me like I was a commodity, with the exception of Jeremy there was no kindness, no affection and it seemed that Angela for some strange reason hated me. You're here for Edward, I told myself repeatedly, not for them or for yourself. Do what you have to do to get Edward back! That's what I kept telling my self, ignoring the fact that I knew a lot of this was for me as well

It was stranger still when I threw myself into the lessons Angela had arranged. People came and went, all teaching me how to walk, talk and sit. There were lessons on clothes, shoes and lingerie. It was so intense but I felt, weirdly, that having breasts allowed me to slip fully into the role. I was Elizabeth and as the days slipped by, I quite liked her. It was a secret dream realised and I didn't want it to end.

I had devoured the profile and life story that Angela had provided and she and Jeremy would fire questions at me suddenly and I found myself answering before I even thought about it.

 

One evening I was walked through the house when I heard raised voices from the study and it was clear to me that it was Angela and Jeremy arguing.

'I won't do this anymore, Angela,' I heard Jeremy's strident voice, 'this is wrong! I don't care what this is supposed to do for our glorious government but…'

'You're getting attached to her,' Angela said harshly, 'she's here to help the mission that…'

'Mission!' Jeremy laughed. 'How can playing the piano help…'

'Who told you that?' Angela hissed and my heart began to pound.

'Nobody,' Jeremy said smoothly, 'but I've worked with enough musicians to recognise the hands of a keyboard player and you've just confirmed my guess.'

'I think it's time you moved on, left. Your work is done…'

'Not likely, darling! I'm not about to leave her with you!'

Angela's voice changed and became nicer. 'Jeremy, why are you becoming attached to her? I've read your file, it's unlike you.'

'Sod off!'

The doorknob began to turn and I quickly scampered (it's not easy to scamper in high heels) up the stairs before Jeremy emerged.

 

Everyday, I did my face, chose my clothes and then passed or failed Angela's critical inspection. She rode me constantly; I couldn't sit or cross my legs without wondering if she was going to shout at me. Irene had honed my voice to a point where I wondered if I would ever be able to speak normally again. The hormone injections were a matter of course and I wondered if I was to see any side effects now that I was swimming in female hormones.

One night after dinner, Angela actually smiled and said, 'you've done very well, Elizabeth.'

Jeremy jumped in before I could say anything, 'Very well? She's bloody marvellous, Angela! I don't think you appreciate how hard she's …'

'Thank you Jeremy,' Angela said firmly and Jeremy glanced at me, then at Angela before shrugging and pouring some more wine.

'I have a surprise for you, Elizabeth,' Angela said.

'Oh, indeed?' I said with a cold smile. 'And what am I getting this time, surgically enhanced arms? I smiled again, batted my eyes and it was pleasing to see Angela blush. Jeremy looked hard at me and then smiled wistfully.

'No, it's in the other room. This way,' she said, standing and leading us down the hall.

I followed her with Jeremy alongside me. Angela swung open a double door, switched on the light and I saw it as soon as I entered. 'It's beautiful,' I breathed staring at the sleekly shining piano in the corner. 'Can I try it?'

'Of course,' Angela smiled and she and Jeremy sat on some chairs arranged around the piano.

Smoothing my skirt under me, I sat on the bench and looked down at the keys, the old eighty-eight and smiled.

'Play something, Liz,' Jeremy called and I nodded self-consciously. Glancing down at the pedals, I knew I couldn't work them with the high heels I was wearing, the angle was wrong so I kicked them off. I settled my nylon covered feet on the pedals, glanced at my long fingernails and then began.

I chose Scott Joplin's 'Ragtime' as it was a good warm up number, a song to settle. The fingernails didn't hamper me, in fact, they caused me to think about placement and my touch was just a little more delicate, almost sensuous.

Jeremy applauded loudly and I glanced at Angela and saw she had an amazed look on her face. 'Sing us a song, Liz,' Jeremy called after I played a little jellyroll.

'Sing? Oh no, I don't think so…'

'Use that new voice, my dear,' Jeremy urged.

It was tantalising, I had to admit, I wondered what I would sound like if I sang. Allan Stratton didn't sing, his voice was too high but maybe Elizabeth could.

I looked over at them. Jeremy winked, his eager face smiling at me and I could help but smile at him. Ignoring Angela's stony face, I said, 'I'll try it. This is for you Jeremy,' I said shyly, 'thank you for your help.'

'It's been my pleasure, Liz,' he smiled across the room.

Running my fingers over the keys, I found myself singing Carole Kings 'So Far Away'.

So far away

Doesn't anybody stay in one place anymore?

It would be so fine to see your face at my door

I lost myself in the words, closing my eyes remembering and feeling while my fingers stroked the keys. Suddenly I felt I had the strength to reach the end notes, to reach up and feel, to climb.

I closed, my fingers resting on the ivory, head down thinking and lost when I felt Jeremy seize me in a fierce hug. 'Liz,' he whispered, 'thank you. You are bloody marvellous, don't let her get you down.'

I smiled anxiously at him. 'Thanks Jeremy, did it sound…female?'

Jeremy laughed and pointed at his eyes. 'I'm crying, you bitch,' he whispered strongly but he was smiling, 'you tortured me. No, Liz, you were great, perfect. You really did make me cry.'

'Thanks, Jeremy,' I said as he left and I turned back to Angela who was staring at me.

I waited, finding my shoes with my feet.

She cleared her throat. 'That was very good,' Angela said slowly.

'Thank you,' I said, closing the piano with a bang.

'Elizabeth,' she began and I waited but nothing more came.

'What?' I finally asked, turning on the piano bench to look at her. Suddenly she seemed so vulnerable, so alone and I wanted to hug her.

'The audition for Heather James is Thursday. Tomorrow we should go out in public, perhaps a coffee somewhere, shopping.'

'Out?'

'Yes, you'll be fine.'

I shrugged. Why not? It was just one more step. As I leaned forward to slip my shoes on, I felt my small breasts move with me. I was becoming more comfortable with myself every day and I found myself not even considering how I would return to my normal life.

End Part 2 of 24

 

Carmenica Diaz

http://www.carmenicadiaz.tripod.com

  

  

  

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