No Half Measures

by Jenny Walker

© 2003

 

CHAPTER 15

 

Jon called over on Thursday morning. He brought his guitar, of course. I had wanted to talk about other potential band members, but he wanted to play some songs first.

"Let's just try out some of your songs. Let me get a feel for them. It will get me in the mood and then we can think about the band."

"OK, what do you want to try first?" I asked.

He wanted to try the songs he had played along with so we went through 'No half measures'. We played it over and over until he was happy. Jon was a bit of a perfectionist like me. He believed in knowing a song backwards. It was a little tedious for me after a while. Having written the song, I already knew it inside out, but he wanted to finalise his runs and riffs. We wrote room for a guitar solo into the song and he made me play the backing chords for the solo over and over again whilst he experimented, changed and corrected what he was doing. At last he seemed happy, but wanted to go over it several more times until he was sure he had it in his head.

"Jon, not again," I groaned.

He grinned at me, "One more time."

"That's what you have said the last five times!"

He shrugged, "Come on, humour me."

I did. And he actually did seem happy enough this time. We moved on to 'I just wanna be me' and went through the same procedure. I resigned myself to playing this endlessly whilst he perfected his runs. They sounded fine to me after the first few times, but not good enough for him. I was tempted to leave the sequencer on repeat and leave him to it. But I knew he worked better with live playing of a song. He said that I had to sing it so he got the real feel of it. I didn't exactly give the vocal performances quite my best as it would have tired my voice out with the endless repetition. We moved on to 'Living life in colour' and gave it the same treatment. Although I was getting weary with the whole procedure, I had to admit that Jon was bringing a totally new dimension to the songs. A different perspective, a different ear. It made the difference between a good song and a brilliant song. It was quite exciting.

"Can we try another song?" he asked.

"Jon, no. I'm exhausted and hungry. It's way past lunchtime and we need to talk about the band," I pouted.

He raised an eyebrow and smiled a little, "Don't pout at me. I'm immune to your charms remember?"

I put my hands on my hips, inclined my head and batted my eyelids, "Is that so?"

He rolled his eyes and shook his head, "Now don't get weird on me. Alright, let's break then."

I led the way upstairs into the kitchen. I made some coffee and some sandwiches. As I turned around, I noticed him looking at me. "What?" I asked.

He looked awkward and shrugged, "Nothing."

"No come on." I looked at him and waited for him to answer.

He sighed and waved a hand, "I was just wondering why you had to dress so…well…I don't know…provocatively. It's not exactly making it easy for me to you know adjust to the new you."

I was wearing a black rib-knit top and my short checked miniskirt. I sat down and smiled, "Jon. I'm not trying to make things difficult. This is me. It's how I like to dress." I paused, "And you know, well when we play or do publicity stuff as a band eventually, I've no illusions as to the kind of wardrobe and look that the PR people are going to want to go with if you know what I mean."

He nodded his head from side to side, "Yeah OK. I'll just have to deal with it." He looked at me, "Are you sure you're comfortable with this? I mean, are you sure this isn't just a phase or something?"

I laughed, "Yes, I'm sure. You sound like my mother."

He raised his eyebrows as the realisation just hit him, "You've told your parents. Yes I suppose you would have. Wow. How'd that go?"

I grimaced, "Not good. Difficult."

"Did they…well accept it?"

I shrugged, "Not really. I made it clear they would have to though. I think they accepted that this was what was happening, but they don't approve at all. Made for a nice family Christmas."

He took a bit of his sandwich, "I'm sure it was a real party. As long as you're sure you can go through with all this." He paused, "I mean, just what you were saying about the PR stuff, you do know what the reaction to you is going to be?"

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"The male reaction. I mean, looking like you do and the way you'll be marketed, you're going to draw more than your fair share of male attention. How do you feel about that?"

I shrugged, "I know it's a possibility, but I haven't really thought about it. I'll deal with it if it arises."

He nodded slowly and began hesitantly, "It might be none of my business…" He stopped, "Never mind."

"No go on," I prompted.

He took a deep breath, "I was just wondering, what with you being a woman and all now, well are you into…I mean do you like…"

"Do I fancy guys?" I completed the question for him.

He looked embarrassed, "Uhh yeah, something like that."

I shook my head, "No. I don't. It's not really an issue." I said it confidently and I felt I believed it. I wasn't going to be messing about any more. In control.

He smiled bashfully, "OK, sorry for prying."

I waved a hand, "Don't sweat it. It's only natural for you to ask and you're not the first to ask. Now band members!"

He grinned, "OK. Well first thing I had thought of was drums. Kevin Noble is doing a few gigs with a band called 'Homeland' but I don't think they are really going anywhere."

"Kevin Noble," I mused, "Do I know him?"

"Course you do. Small guy, wiry. Used to play with me when we were both in 'Rainbow's end'."

I clicked my fingers, "Yes I remember now. He's quite good isn't he?"

Jon nodded, "Getting better all the time. Last time I heard him, I was very impressed. He's a decent bloke too."

"Can you get in touch with him?"

He nodded, "I think so. I've got his number somewhere. I'll look it out and give him a shout."

"For bass guitarist, I was thinking of someone. What do you call him?" I shook my head, "It'll come to me. He played in that charity gig a few years back: Blues for Bosnia."

Jon nodded and closed his eyes, "Yes, I know who you mean. Ack what's his name?"

I took a deep breath, "Brian someone I think."

Jon nodded, "Brian Garrett."

"That's it! I wonder where he is now."

Jon blew out his cheeks, "He hasn't been around the band circuit that I've seen. Wasn't he doing some session music?"

I shrugged, "I don't know. How can we track him down?"

Jon grinned, "Tell Jools to get on it, she's resourceful."

I laughed, "I think I'll do just that."

"Owen Robinson," Jon said.

"Hmm? Oh for keyboards?" I replied.

He nodded, "He's good, versatile and dead on."

I nodded slowly, "OK, sounds reasonable. What's he up to?"

Jon rubbed his eyes, "Not sure. In some band somewhere. He's friendly with a mate of mine; I'll ring him and see if he knows where Owen is these days."

"Right well that sounds like we have enough to be going on with. Oh before I forget, I need to get you to sign this contract." I brought over the contract sheet with Jon's name on it and gave it to him. He read through it and nodded.

"Sounds OK to me," he said.

"You happy enough? You get twenty percent of the profits?"

He nodded, "Yes that's fine. It's not really about the money, but twenty percent of whatever is going to be a lot more than what I'm getting now isn't it?"

I nodded, "It is. Once the advance comes through, you'll get your first paycheque."

He grinned, "How much?"

"For you?" I shrugged and casually continued, "Oh a mere twenty grand."

He nearly fell off his seat. He laughed, "Twenty grand? What will I do with that?"

I laughed too, "What you want me to take you shopping to spend it?"

He grimaced, "No, it's OK. I'm sure I'll manage.

 

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It was a couple of days before resourceful Jools managed to get a contact number for Brian Garrett and it was the middle of the next week before I managed to get him in. Jools had suggested she ring him, but I was getting a little bored and wanted something to do. I had to remember that he wouldn't know me and had to be careful not to give myself away. I hadn't really known him at all as Nick though.

"Hi is that Brian?"

"Yep, who's that?"

"Brian, my name is Cara Malone. You won't know me. I've heard you play once or twice before but we've never met. I'm a singer/songwriter and I'm putting a band together and I was wondering if you might be interested."

"Uh huh? What are you planning to do? Anyone else involved?"

"Well, you may know the lead guitarist, Jon Peters?"

"Yes, I know of him. Talented guy." He paused. I needed to pique his interest.

"Well, I've got a recording contract with Sony and I need a band together before we hit the studio to record the singles and first album."

"Really?" he sounded more interested now, "What's the deal?"

"Well, why don't you come round sometime soon, bring your bass and we'll play some of the material. You can see what you think and we can talk about details?"

"Sure, when?"

"Let me check with Jon and get back to you on that."

I eventually got hold of Jon later that night and caught up with how he had been getting on. He'd spoken to Kevin and he sounded interested enough to come round and see what we were up to. Jon had suggested Saturday afternoon, a few days away. He had talked to Owen Robinson but he wasn't interested. Even when Jon stressed we had a recording contract, he didn't want to know. Apparently he was trying to get a break as a singer himself. I sympathised as I knew all about that and would probably have done the same had I been in his place. Jon and I talked, but couldn't think of any other decent keyboard players at the moment. I rang Brian back and he agreed to come round on Saturday afternoon.

 

----------*----------

 

The money had now come through from Sony and Jools had arranged the transfer of my share and Jon's to our respective accounts. I had set myself up with a new bank account and credit cards under the name of Nicola Evans. When going into the branch, I had had the irrational fear that the assistant manager who was dealing with me would press the alarm bells and declare my ID fake. But that didn't happen of course. And so it was that on Saturday morning, Jools drove me over to the MG showroom to pick up my new car. It was strange to write a cheque for fifteen grand just like that and it was hard to believe that the shiny silver convertible was now mine. I drove back to Jools' apartment but took the 'scenic' route. I couldn't pass up the opportunity to take my new wheels for a spin. It was a delight to drive. I fell in love instantly. I arrived back at Jools' place and parked it outside. I ran my hand over the bonnet and let it linger on the shiny bodywork. It seemed almost a shame to leave it outside. I felt like jumping back in and just driving and driving with the top down. But since it was a drizzly wet winter's day and since Jon, Kevin and Brian were coming over that afternoon, I had to put my plans on hold.

Jon arrived with Kevin just after lunch. Kevin was lugging his drum kit in. My instinctive reaction was to help him and Jon carry it in until Jon politely reminded me that the men could handle it. He made the introductions, "Kevin Noble, meet Cara Malone."

I smiled and shook his hand, "Hi Kevin, glad you could come over." Kevin was about my height and not at all well built. He had short brown hair and glasses and looked if anything, more like an accountant than a rock drummer. He had a sort of nervous energy about him and never seemed to stand still. He was always moving, be it his hands or shifting from one foot to the other.

"Hi Cara," he replied, "Delighted to be here. Jon had to twist my arm a little to get me to come, but if he had told me how lovely you were, I'd have agreed straight off." He sniggered nervously.

I laughed self-consciously and changed the subject, "Thanks. Look if you want to set up at the back of the room there, Brian Garrett, our potential bass guitarist should be arriving soon."

Kevin set up and in the way that all drummers do, immediately set about beating his drums incessantly. And very loudly. Jon picked up his guitar and went into 'spaced out guitar solo' mood. I barely heard the doorbell fifteen minutes later. It was Brian.

"Hello, Brian?"

The tall man with short black hair nodded and gave a rueful smile, "That's me. You're Cara Malone?"

I grinned and nodded, "Sure am, come on in."

He came in and set his guitar case and small bass amp down. I apologised, "Sorry for the noise from the rowdy boys. I'm glad you could come."

He shrugged, "No problem." Silence. He wasn't one for many words it seemed.

"Err well, do you want to come in and meet the others?"

We walked into the back room and it was all I could do to get their attention, "Jon! Kevin!" At last it registered with them and they stopped. Well Kevin seemed to keep some sort of beat going quietly in the background with the bass drum. I made the introductions and explained that both Kevin and Brian had come to see what we were at and see if they were interested. Jon and I had decided we would run through the three songs we had worked on last time. I got my semi-acoustic guitar and adjusted the mike stand. Jon was ready to go and we launched into 'No half measures'. Kevin of course immediately joined in with the beat and began to build up the rhythm. I sang as forcefully as I could, wanting to make a good impression. Brian stood to the side initially looking impassive. After the first chorus, he slowly bent down, opened his guitar case and lifted it out. He plugged in his amp and plugged the bass into it, adjusted his volume and then nonchalantly joined in. He had got the basic gist of the chord progression and added a simple bass line. Jon launched into his impressive guitar solo. I could hear both Kevin and Brian improvising a little and doing some experimentation. We brought the song to a close. That is Jon, Brian and I stopped, but Kevin kept hammering away for a bar or two. He stopped, "Oh sorry. Didn't realise we were done." He smiled nervously and then nodded a few times, "I liked that. Can we do it again?"

I grinned. His enthusiasm was quite infectious. I looked over to Brian, "Happy enough with it? Got the basic idea?"

He nodded, "Yep. Reckon so."

That was all I was going to get out of him so I shrugged and counted us in again. We played it through a couple of times. It got tighter each time. It was that unquantifiable situation where the total energy a band created was greater than the sum of the individual parts. I was buzzing. But I was also a little nervous as to what the two potential band members were thinking. We ran through 'Living life in colour' several times until Kevin and Brian got the hang of it. It didn't take them long. They were certainly talented and quick on the uptake. I laid my guitar down for 'I just wanna be me' and taking my mike in hand, began to roam around the room as I pouted and smiled my way through it. Again after a few times through it, it was sounding really good. Kevin had taken brushes and given it a real swing beat. Brian had taken his cue from Jon and added a blues bass line to it. I loved how it sounded.

"It sounds really good guys," I complimented.

Kevin was nodding up and down, "I like it. Did you write all these? Good songs. Like them. Variety. Good rhythm."

I grinned and looked over at Brian, "Brian, what do you think?"

He paused and pursed his lips and then slowly nodded, "Yep, good."

I hesitated, but that was all that was forthcoming, "Ah OK." I didn't know what to say next.

Jon spoke up, "Cara, play your love song."

I screwed up my face, "Don't call it that."

He shrugged, "I can't remember the name of it. Anyways it is a love song isn't it?"

I sighed, "Well I guess. I presume you are talking about 'Not dancing, but flying'?"

"Yeah, that's the one. Guys, come on over to the keyboard and listen to this."

I felt a bit intimidated as they all stood over me, but I tried to put them out of my head as I started the arpeggio style introduction. I closed my eyes and let the music slowly absorb me as I sang. I didn't have to put it on. The emotion of singing this song seemed to come naturally every time I played it. When I finished I looked up and smiled a little sheepishly, "I know it's a bit soppy and not quite a real rock song…"

Brian actually gave the hint of a smile, "Nice though."

I took this as praise indeed. Kevin was bouncing on his toes again, "Yeah, cracker. Great voice Cara, love it."

I decided to take this as the opportunity, "Well Kevin and Brian, you've heard some of what we are doing. Speaking for myself, I'd be keen to have you both aboard. You've both certainly got the talent and skills that we are looking for. What do you think?"

Kevin predictably was the first to answer, "Sure thing. I'm in. Things are sort of going nowhere with my current band."

I smiled, "That's great Kevin." I looked up at Brian, his expression gave no clues, "Brian?"

He nodded slowly and frowned, "Yes OK."

I felt I needed a little more confirmation, "You mean you want in."

He nodded, "Yep." That was all I was going to get.

"Well…OK…great," I smiled.

I heard a clearing of throat from the doorway. It was Jools. She spoke up, "Did I just hear that we have two new band members?"

I made the introductions and explained that Jools was our manager. Jools brought in the contracts and let Kevin and Brian read them. Kevin seemed to skim through it and then sign it without much attention and give it back. Brian however took about ten minutes reading it through a few times. He asked Jools a few short questions and then signed it.

"Thank you gentlemen," she said all business-like. "Now, we have received an advance from Sony and in accordance with the terms of your contracts, you are eligible for ten percent each. Would you like the cheques now?"

They both answered in the affirmative. Kevin expressively so and Brian quite passively so. They were quite a contrast. Jools handed them their cheques.

Kevin swore, "Holy…" He laughed and held up the cheque, "Unbelievable, this is great."

Brian's eyebrows actually rose in what was the most expressive facial movement I had seen from him yet. He didn't say anything but just pocketed the cheque.

"Thanks guys again for coming over," I said. "My plan would be that Jon and I work on some more songs over the next month or two and then we all get together for a few weeks solid before we go into the studio and work on the songs together. So I guess with your cheques, you've got several weeks of paid holidays between now and then. We are still short a keyboard player. Do either of you two have any suggestions?"

Brian shrugged, "Colin Henderson?"

Jon vaguely knew of him and Brian gave him the telephone number. Kevin thought, "Well there's Jeremy Patterson, but he may not be available." He thought again and began a little more hesitantly, "And I guess there is Noel Dawson."

Jon frowned, "Doesn't he have a bit of a problem with the drink?"

Kevin shrugged, "Word is he's been dry for a year now. Good enough player."

Jon nodded, "Well I'll work on those contacts and see what turns up."

Brian and Kevin packed up and said their goodbyes. Kevin's being more vocal than Brian's. After they had left, I grinned at Jon, "It sounded good. I think it's coming together."

He smiled at me, "I think you're right." He paused, "So we've got to get some more songs written then?"

I nodded, "Hope you've got some inspiration inside you somewhere."

He grinned, "Guess we'll have to find out."

 

----------*----------

 

I was still in the habit of getting up early each morning and going for a run. I had tried to persuade Jools to keep up with the fitness routine but, out of the reaches of Beth, she had regressed to her usual non-exercising, lying-in-bed morning routine. She resisted all my efforts to cajole her into joining me. She saw no attraction in getting up on damp grey winter's mornings to go out and 'freeze her ass off' as she put it. Me? I was getting addicted. I never thought it could happen to me, but it had. I loved the feeling of being up and out before the world awoke and having the fresh morning air nearly all to myself. Most mornings I headed out around 7 a.m. and ran about a half mile to the north and entered Wormholt Park. It wasn't the most beautiful of green spaces, but it was green and relatively free of the carbon monoxide that started to build up from London's commuters before long. I would do several circuits of the park, trying to either aim to do each circuit in less time than the one before or to do more and more circuits compared to previous mornings. That was where I met Kate. For a few mornings in a row, I had noticed that I didn't have the park to myself. There was a tall redhead running circuits also. It was Tuesday morning when we finally talked. I had stopped for a breather after ten hard circuits of the park and she jogged over to where I was stretching my calf muscles on a park bench.

"Hi," she said breathlessly.

"Hi," I grinned.

"You've been running in my park," she said with a twinkle in her eye.

"Your park?" I said amusedly as I looked up.

She nodded, "I've had to myself for years and now you show up. I'm Kate."

I grinned and stood up straight, "I'm Cara." Kate was tall. About 5' 10" I reckoned, with shoulder length ginger hair. Strawberry blonde she called it as she later told me. She was bright-eyed and looked to be in good shape. She had a pointy nose and a quirky little mouth which created an overall very attractive impression.

"Pleased to meet you Cara. So you new here or what?"

I shrugged, "Yes. I'm staying with a friend nearby 'til I get my own place sorted out."

We chatted a bit more. Kate was a personal assistant in the city to some big-shot ego corporate manager as she described him. I got the impression that she didn't think much of him. This was fairly well confirmed when she called him an 'ass-grabbing lecherous toad' a few moments later. When she asked me what I did, I told her I was a musician. She was very interested and wanted to know more. I tried to shrug it off and told her I was trying to get a band together to see what would happen. We parted company before long and she said she was sure she would see me about.

She was right. Our schedules seemed to run fairly close as more often than not, I would see Kate doing her circuits faithfully each morning. We began to run around together. This was good at times as the competition of someone to run against kept us going. At other times it wasn't as good as our pace dropped off because we focussed more on chatting than running. I liked Kate. She was amusing, irreverent and had an aura of fun about her. I would laugh until I had to stop running at the stories of office life that she regaled me with. I had very little to tell her in return as most of the interesting parts of my life at present weren't for public consumption. I appreciated the company. I wasn't quite sure why, but when I thought about it, it was probably because Kate was the one person that I was chatting to these days who took me at face value. She didn't know my 'dark secret' and it was refreshing for me to have the opportunity to get to know someone by myself as Cara without all the extra baggage that I was carrying around in the rest of my life. I valued my morning exercise times all the more for it.

 

----------*----------

 

Jon had been coming over most days with his guitar. He arrived mid morning as he was another non-morning person. He found it hard to believe the change in my approach to the mornings. In fact he refused to believe it until Jools confirmed it for him. He had thought I was just winding him up. Things were still awkward between us. In a sense, the atmosphere was most relaxed when we were playing. When he had his guitar in hand, and I was singing with either my guitar or keyboards, it was as if the difficulties evaporated and a higher level of communication was achieved. We spent a lot of time playing. Not that much of it was extremely productive. But it was more about establishing a musical relationship where I knew what he was thinking and vice versa. It had been the same a few years back when we were playing together and it was coming back again now. It was that almost telepathic anticipation of knowing where the other person is going to take the song, what they will do next and going with them, taking the music to the next stage. Truly empathic. It was what I loved about playing with other people. I realised how stale my music had become over the last eighteen months. Playing solely by myself, the energy had dissipated, the force had gone from it. I hadn't seen it as it was a gradual process, but now I saw it clearly. Jon enjoyed it too. I could see that. Often we would just pick a key and jam and improvise. We would solo one after another, him on guitar, me on keyboards until we would bring the piece to a climactic end in a tight sharp ending.

I grinned, "You just can't beat this, can you?"

He laughed and wiped his brow, "Nah, it's something else isn't it? It almost beats sex."

I didn't quite know how to respond to this. Jon had said similar things like this in the past. As I frantically tried to think of an appropriate light-hearted retort to avoid the moment becoming awkward, the moment overtook me.

"Uhh sorry," Jon apologised, "well I didn't sort of like mean that."

I shrugged, "Don't sweat it. I know what you mean."

But it was too late. We were back into our shells and Jon would hardly look at me. It was the same each day when we would stop for lunch. Conversation was stilted with him rarely making eye contact. I had to try and almost distract him away from the present. At times it worked. We would laugh over old school stories, people we both remembered, people we liked, people we loathed. We would talk about other bands, who was good, who was crap. At times, it was almost like it had been. Almost. But then that imperceptible barrier between us would creep down like fog rolling down into a valley from the mountains. It was frustrating. The result was that we spent more and more time playing and less talking. This had benefits in that we were fast becoming of one musical mind. I guess I pretended that these benefits made the lack of real communication alright. But I knew it wasn't true.

Over lunch the following Monday I decided to confront the issue. Jon was doing his staring into space, not looking at or talking to me thing as we ate our sandwiches.

"Jon, it can't go on like this?"

"Like what?"

"You know what I mean."

He just shrugged, "What?"

I sighed, "What's wrong? When we're playing and singing, we're really connecting, I mean it is just clicking right into the groove. But when we're not, it's as if we're strangers. What is it?"

He shrugged again and for a moment didn't say anything. He dragged his eyes from the floor and looked at me. He turned round towards me and placed his elbows on the table. "Cara I just don't know how to be with you."

I was puzzled, "What do you mean?"

He frowned, "I just don't know how to talk to you, how to get on with you. Sure I can play guitar with you, it's almost like a reflex, doesn't require any thought. But I don't know if you're a friend, a mate, an acquaintance, a colleague whatever."

I think I understood what he was getting at, but I felt hurt nonetheless. I shook my head, "I thought we were friends Jon?" I tried to keep my voice from sounding pained but it sounded a little whiny despite my best efforts.

He looked me in the eye and nodded, "We were friends. Nick was my friend." He paused and shrugged, "You're not Nick. I guess what I'm saying is, I don't really know who you are. I don't really know you."

We sat in silence for a few moments, "OK. I think I understand. But you know it is still really me. Not that much has changed."

He raised an eyebrow as if to say 'yeah right'. I continued, "Well OK, a lot has changed. But what can we do to deal with this?"

He sighed, "I'm open to suggestions."

Softly I replied, "Are you?"

He whipped his head around, "What's that supposed to mean?"

I sat back a little, "I don't know Jon. I just wonder at times if you really do want to make the effort or if it is more comfortable for you to pretend there's no problem, almost pretend I'm not here."

"That's crap and you know it. Alright then, what do you have in mind?"

I thought for a moment, "OK, if you feel you don't really know me. Why not just get to know me? What do you do when you don't know someone? Chat, talk, and tell them about yourself? Why not start again?"

He nodded slowly and then wrinkled his brow, "It's all very well saying that. Easier said than done though. I just don't know how to treat you, how to act."

"Huh?" I asked for clarification.

"Well like, if you were a mate, I'd know how to act and get on, but if you're a girl I met, things would be different. I don't know where you fit in."

His words were seemingly innocuous, but they struck home with me. Where I fit in? He was right. If I could barely answer that question, what right had I to expect him to? Although I was enjoying the feelings and sensations of being the new me, there were a lot of things I hadn't come to terms with. I was still living in a relatively sheltered environment. I hadn't much of a clue about how Cara felt about certain things. If I didn't really know who I was, good luck to the rest of the world in working it out. Answers on a postcard please. I was staring into space and Jon interrupted me.

"You OK?"

"Mmm?" I said as I refocused, "Oh yeah, I'm fine."

"What is it?" he gently prompted.

I was about to make a glib reply that it was nothing, but if I expected him to be more open with me, it would half to work both ways. "Oh it's just that you are right. I don't know where I fit in either. I know on the outside I look the part and all, but being honest Jon, sometimes when it's just me, inside, I'm scared. I don't think I've done the wrong thing; I'm just not sure where it's all going. In a sense, having the record deal and all makes it all the more scary. There's a timetable operating here that means I have to work it out and sort it out fast. I haven't the luxury of being able to sit back and find myself. So it's no wonder you find it difficult to talk to me also. What else can I expect?"

He nodded slowly as he took it in. "I never thought of it like that," he said.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

He shrugged, "I never thought about how you felt about all this. I was being selfish. I was just thinking about how difficult I thought all this was. I mean when I look at you, you look so together. You put on a hell of a good front!"

I laughed, "Is that a compliment?"

He grinned, "As close as I can manage at the moment."

He held out a hand towards me.

I wrinkled my forehead, "What?"

"Hi, I'm Jon Peters," he said.

I laughed and took his hand and he shook it.

He smiled, "I can't promise I'll not be a jerk any more, but let's give it a shot."

"Deal," I said.

"So any other ideas on how we can sort this mess out?" he asked.

I shrugged, "Well, we could try and interact on a normal social basis. Any good bands playing these days or anything?"

He shifted a little awkwardly in his seat, "We-ell, I was going to go down to the Santa Barbara on Wednesday night to hear 'Loud as Life'."

I brightened, "Sounds good."

He hesitated, "Erm, well I was going to go with some of the guys from the old band."

I read between the lines and tried to hide my disappointment, "Oh right, I see. Well never mind. Another time. Let's get back to some playing?"

I stood up and he slowly stood also, "Look. OK." I stopped and turned round as he went on, "Sure come along with me."

I shrugged, "You sure, I mean if you're not happy with it, I don't want to make things worse."

He shook his head and more firmly said, "No. Come along, you're right. We should just be normal and do things that friends do." He winced, "It's just that…"

"Just what?"

He grinned ruefully, "Never mind. Doesn't matter."

 

----------*----------

 

I had been continuing to take the hormones and the changes were progressing. My skin was very soft now and that wasn't changing any further, but I continued to notice changes in my figure and my moods. The former was pretty much pleasing, the latter was a pain. I had noticed that my waist was definitely narrower. I was rarely wearing my corset these days. A combination of the hormones, healthy eating, exercise and the long weeks of corset wearing had left me with a trim 26 inch waist. I was quite proud of it. As my waist had narrowed, my hips had correspondingly continued to swell. I was nowhere near the stage where I would be getting paranoid that my hips and my bum were too big, but I did like to think I had better curves than I had had previously. And as for my chest? It was full steam ahead. It was becoming increasingly difficult and more uncomfortable to wear my breast forms. It was a bit of a tricky situation. My own breasts were growing and developing. My nipples were becoming more sensitive. It felt so strange to stand in front of the mirror and look at them and hold them in my hands. But kind of nice too. I think I was somewhere approaching a B cup now, but I couldn't be sure. The problem was that when I put my breast forms into my bra as well, with the reduction in space in my bra, the forms compressed my own breasts and caused growing discomfort. But what could I do? Not wear the forms and suddenly have to explain to everyone what happened to my previously full bosom? These things were playing on my mind as I had my second appointment with Dr. Carson in a few days time on Thursday. I knew there was a solution to this problem and my mouth went dry as I thought about it. I would have to make a decision though.

I had adjusted quite well to my feminine appearance. I could quite honestly say I liked the way I looked. I mean who wouldn't like being attractive? I liked my visage, my figure and the clothes I could wear. But I was realising there was more to being a woman than looking like a woman, talking like a woman and acting like a woman. It reminded me of that conversation at my old kitchen table with Jools. It seemed like years ago, but in reality it was only a few months back. Then when I had worked through the implications of what this step would mean I had realised that it meant looking like, talking like, acting like but also actually being a woman. The first three I thought I had licked now. The problem was that I had no idea how to manage the fourth aspect. I had thought it would sort of naturally follow on, but I was finding that it wasn't quite that easy. I could put on the good front as Jon called it. I could do it perfectly outwardly. But what about inwardly? Who was I when there was no-one else around? Physically I was woman. But mentally? Emotionally? Even spiritually? Was I Nick in Cara's body, or was I really Nicola underneath it all? I supposed that it was only natural to have some doubts. But I didn't feel that I could talk about it with anyone. I had to present the assuredness and confidence in what I was doing. Had I done it so well that I had bluffed myself? I didn't really think so.

One of the strange things was my dreams. They were a mixture of realities, when I remembered them. Sometimes in my dreams I was still Nick, other times I was Nicola/Cara. I don't know if it was a subconscious projection of my fears, but when I was Cara, the dreams tended to turn into nightmares. The usual chasing scenes where you run away from something you never see. The fear of course was that I would be exposed for a fraud. I knew it was silly, but it did bother me at times. However in the cold hard light of day, when I rationally tried to think clearly, when hormones weren't ravaging my emotions too much, I still felt I was doing the right thing and taking the right path. I needed to know this because as each day passed, I moved further and further away from Nick and became more and more of this new person. I suppose it was only natural not to know exactly who I was yet or what I would be like at the end of it all. But it wasn't easy. I decided to put all this over introspection out of my head and focus my mind on something much more practical: what was I going to wear on Wednesday night?

 

----------*----------

 

"Hi Claire," I said as she answered the phone at the other end.

"Oh hi…Nic-ola. How are you?" she said brightly after a moment's initial hesitation.

"Pretty good, you?"

"I'm fine. Work sucks, it's January, but apart from that, grand. What have you been up to?"

"Well trying to put a band together I suppose," I replied.

"How's it going? Anyone good? Anyone I know?"

"Yeah, not too bad. They are all pretty good. We still need a keyboard player though. Only one you might remember is Jon Peters."

"Jon Peters," a pause, "Wait wasn't he originally from Pembroke? In your class at school once?"

"Yeah, that's him."

"Wow. Isn't that a bit weird? What if he finds out about you know…you?"

"He knows."

"You told him?"

"He worked it out, but I would have told him."

"Is he OK with it?" she asked.

"Umm, hard to say. Things aren't exactly peachy, but we'll sort it out I guess. Anyway, how're Mum and Dad?"

"You should phone them yourself Nicola."

"I know, I will. Have you been talking to them?"

She sighed, "Yes. If you want to know if they have suddenly taken a shine to the fact that they seem to have a new daughter, I'm afraid I'll have to disappoint you."

"Yeah, well I hadn't really been counting on that. Are they keeping OK?"

"Oh they're fine. Do keep in touch with them though. I know it is hard but I think it will be better in the long run."

"I know, I will."

I think she sensed some hesitation in my voice. "Nicola? Are you alright?"

"Yes I'm fine."

"Is there anything else?"

I tried to make a joke of it, "What trying to get your only sister off the phone?"

She laughed, "No, it's just that you sounded as if you had something else to say."

I had. She was right as always. "No, nothing else. Just wanted to say 'hi' and keep in touch."

She didn't sound convinced but she let it lie, "Well OK. Listen, take care of yourself and don't do anything stupid you hear?"

I grinned, "Yes big sis. I'll ring you again sometime soon. Love you."

"Love you too."

 

----------*----------

 

Wednesday evening came and I was patiently waiting for Jon to pick me up. I had had extreme outfit doubts all afternoon and was presently in my fourth option. I had swung between over dressed to over casual having gone from a little red dress to blouse and jeans. Finally I had settled on a white rib-knit body top and my denim miniskirt and black leather boots. I was sort of nervous about the approaching evening. Not because I was worried about going out as I was or meeting people or anything like that. I was more worried about how Jon would react. I checked my watch. He was late. The phone rang: it was Jon.

"Umm Cara, listen my crappy car seems to have died on me and I can't get it started."

"Oh I see," I paused. I tried to make sure my voice sounded amused, "So is this your excuse for standing me up or do you want me to come pick you up?"

He laughed, "Don't be silly. Get in your car and make it quick. If you don't mind?"

"Mind? An excuse to take my baby for a drive? Not a problem."

I think he took me up slightly wrong. He sounded a little worried, "Err your baby?"

I laughed, "Jon, I'm talking about my car. Sorry to disappoint you."

He laughed and sounded relieved, "Oh gotcha. See you soon."

I checked my appearance in the hall mirror as I grabbed my black suede jacket. Hair and make up looking good. I grabbed my keys and headed out. 'My baby' was sitting waiting for me and as always it was a joy to feel the finely tuned engine respond to my every command. Jon shared a house with a few guys in the Camden area. It was about 5 miles away and at this time of the evening, it was only about a ten minute journey. I did it in seven.

Having beeped my horn a few times with no response, I parked at the side of the road and went up and rang the doorbell a few times. A few minutes later, the door opened and a black haired guy looked out, "Hello?" He looked at me and then opened the door wider. "Well hello," he smiled.

I smiled a little unsurely, "Umm, is Jon Peters there?"

His expression fell a little, "Ah yeah. Sure come on in."

I waited at the bottom of the stairs while he bounded up them to get Jon. I realised why the horn pumping had been ineffective. The sounds of heavy guitar music were permeating the house. Jon came down the stairs with the guy who had let me in. They were talking and I picked up some of it. Jon looked irritated and hissed at him, "Yeah look sure, I'll see what I can do."

He turned his attention to me and blinked, "Hey Cara."

I smiled, "Hi Jon, ready to go?"

"Sure, let's split."

When we got into the car, I asked him about what his housemate had said. Jon laughed, "You don't want to know."

I grinned and throwing the car into first roared off down the street, "You realise that saying that usually makes a person want to know all the more."

He regarded me with a grin, "You really want to know?"

I nodded, "Sure."

He nodded, "Alright then. He asked me if you were my girlfriend. I said no. Then he asked if you were seeing anyone. I said I didn't think so, but do correct me if I'm wrong. Then he asked if I could set him up with a date with you."

"Oh," I replied not knowing what else to say. I felt myself flush.

He laughed and shook his head, "You did want to know."

I grinned ruefully, "That's me learnt my lesson for being nosy."

He looked out the window thoughtfully for a moment before speaking again. "Look I know it's none of my business and feel free to tell me to get stuffed OK? But it might be kind of helpful if you were able to give me an indication of how you really feel about this sort of thing."

"What sort of thing?"

"Well you know. Guys. Interested in you." He gestured to me vaguely, "Cos you know, the way you look, it's going to be a recurrent problem. Don't get me wrong, I'm not prying, but if you are interested that's fine. If not, then I know to discourage them."

I felt very uncomfortable. "Umm yeah Jon, I see what you mean. I guess you can take it that I'm not interested in guys. Best not to complicate things any further."

He nodded and thankfully changed the subject, "You do realise that I faked the whole car breakdown thing so I could get a ride in your baby don't you? Can I have a drive?"

I laughed, "Not on your life!"

 

----------*----------

 

By the time we got the car parked and arrived at the Santa Barbara in Soho, we were late and the band was about to start. It took Jon a minute or two to spot his friends. As we made our way over to them, he whispered in my ear, "Listen, these guys are a little rough and ready. Don't be surprised if they are a little forward. Don't worry though, they are all talk really."

I was a little disconcerted but smiled and nodded nonetheless. "Hey Jon!" "Mate!" "'Bout time." Various greetings exchanged, handshakes, high fives and the like. From having been around the music scene I knew the type of these guys. Heavy guitar music and correspondingly heavy drinking. There were five of them and two of them had girls with them. One guy with a moustache nodded at me, "Jon, who's the looker? Didn't know you got a new chick."

I tried not to react and bit my tongue knowing it wouldn't achieve anything anyway. Jon shrugged, "Nah, she's just a friend. Guys this is Cara. Cara meet Bobo, Lenny, Dirk, Harry and Nads."

I nodded and smiled to them all then wrinkled my brow, "Nads?"

This provoked a round of laughter. Jon looked a little embarrassed, "Yeah, no-one can remember his real name. It's not too nice a nickname; I'll tell you later what it is short for."

"I think I can work it out," I assured him.

"Wahey," said the one called Dirk, or was it Lenny? "Smart as well as good looking. Fine if you like that, not for me though." He patted the leg of his girlfriend who was smart enough to realise she was being run down and she elbowed him in response. The sparkling conversation was cut short though as the band was introduced. There was only one seat left. I noticed that one of the girls was already sitting on Harry's knee. Bobo shouted over, "Cara honey, you can sit on my knee if you want." I was about to reply when he continued, "But only as long as you can handle the pole vault." He winked.

I tried to keep the distaste from my face and just smiled politely at him as I gave him a one-fingered response. This made him laugh all the more. "I'll sit on the floor," Jon murmured.

"You can't sit on the floor, there's no room. It's filthy and you won't see a thing. Come on, I'll have to sit on your knee."

He looked awkward, "Umm, you sure about that?"

I looked at him, "I promise not to bite. But if you can't abide the thought of it, I'll have to go sit on Bobo's knee then." That did the trick. He smiled sheepishly and sat down. I sat down on his knee and perched myself sideways so he could see.

'Loud as life' certainly lived up to their name. What they lacked in finesse and quality they made up for in noise and quantity. It was formula heavy guitar rock stuff. Some of it was alright, but I soon got bored of it. Plus I was getting a little uncomfortable sitting on Jon's knee. I was sitting bolt upright and trying not to put too much weight on him. It would have been fine if I had put my arm around his neck and settled in, but I reckoned neither of us would be too happy with that. They played for just over an hour and after a fortunately short encore, they were gone. The guys we were with raved enthusiastically about the music. I reserved my own opinion. More drink was consumed, more lewd comments and generally uninteresting conversation.

"So Jon," Harry said, "You're seriously leaving the band? I mean dude, you rock. We need you. So who'd you say you're playing with now?"

Jon shifted awkwardly underneath me, "Umm well actually Cara and I are putting a band together."

The guys found this hilarious. Harry laughed heartily, "No shit man. You're playing music with this chick?"

I was pissed off now and knew I should have kept quiet, "Yes, I needed a good lead guitarist and Jon needed a new challenge. And I can see why."

Bobo snorted, "Challenge my ass. More like challenged as to how he can get into your pants. So Jon mate seriously, why go play for a chick? She giving you good head or summat?"

Jon gently lifted me to my feet and he stood also. I was a little worried as to what he was going to do, but he replied calmly, "Guys, she's right. I've had enough of this crap. Come on Cara, let's go." We walked away to a chorus of jeers and catcalls.

Once outside, I apologised, "Sorry Jon, I should have kept my mouth shut. In fact, I shouldn't have come with you."

He shrugged, "No, it's not your fault. They're all jerks. I've been trying to deny it for months, but there's no point. I'm sorry you had to hear talk like that."

"I've heard it before. But it is a little strange being on the other side of it I'll admit."

I dropped him off and drove back to Jools' place. So much for trying to have a relaxing social night out to ease the tension between Jon and me. With all the comments and goings on, it would probably make things far worse.

 

----------*----------

 

CHAPTER 16

On Thursday morning I dressed simply in a blue blouse and jeans and minimal make up. I was due at Dr. Carson's at 9:30 a.m. and was feeling rather nervous. Jools noticed this and tried to ask me why I was so uptight. I evaded her question and said that doctors always made me nervous. This was a half truth. The other half was the decision that was weighing on my mind which I knew I would probably have to face soon after today. Although at that time, I wasn't to know just how soon that would actually be. Jools wanted to come with me, but I was adamant that I was going by myself as I didn't want to face the immediate barrage of questions after my appointment. She seemed a little miffed, but I wasn't backing down. I explained to her that I had to learn to do things myself without always having support. She didn't seem convinced, but let it rest at that.

After a short but busy rush hour tube ride, I arrived at the Harley Street consulting rooms and gave my name to the receptionist. After about twenty minutes, Dr. Carson came out and called me in.

"Hello Cara," she smiled warmly, "how are you my dear?"

I nodded and grinned, "Not too bad thanks."

"Did you have a nice Christmas?" she asked and she must have seen the expression on my face as she continued, "Oh I take it you talked to your family then?"

I nodded, "Yes. I couldn't say it was the merriest of Christmases I've ever enjoyed."

"Want to tell me about it?"

It's quite strange, but there are certain situations where it is far easier to tell total strangers things you can't tell your closest friends. I felt able to tell Dr. Carson all about what had happened and about the difficult reactions I had got from my family. I didn't go into everything, but gave her a fairly full account. I didn't tell her about my silliness with Phil, or about procuring my new I.D. She nodded and listened well, making little encouraging comments all the while. When I was done she sat back and looked ponderous for a moment.

"So Cara tell me, have you any doubts about what you are doing?"

I hesitated. I wasn't sure what the expected right answer was so I decided to go with the truth. "Yes. Yes I do. I don't really think I've made a mistake, but there are times when I wonder what I am doing. I don't know if that's just to be expected or whether it means I'm doing the wrong thing."

She shook her head, "It means you are human and you have insight into your situation. If you had said that you had no doubts I would be concerned that you weren't fully appreciating the gravity of what you are doing and weren't giving it the proper consideration that you should be."

"That makes sense I guess. To be honest it's not the physical side of things that troubles me, I actually really like the changes I'm going through. I like how I look and I like being attractive. It's the emotional side that I find more difficult."

She nodded, "It is to be expected. You've lived most of your life according to what is expected of a young man. To suddenly have this turned on its head and have to react and live out what is expected from a young woman is a challenge."

"You can say that again."

She hesitated before continuing, "Now the next question is a little personal, but I think I should ask it as part of the assessment of your adjustment. Tell me, how are your feelings about your orientation, I mean sexually?"

"Uhh…" I said meaningfully.

She smiled encouragingly, "Tell me about your attractions."

"Well," I began slowly, "I guess this hasn't really been a large part of my life recently what with all the other things going on with my family and all. I'm really not sure how I feel to be honest. I know that for all intents and purposes, I'm living as a woman, but I don't think I can say that I'm particularly attracted to men and am looking for a boyfriend or anything." I tried to lighten it with a bit of humour.

She laughed, "OK, but I want you to be able to talk to me about this again. This is a difficult area and you will need to address it at some stage. You are an attractive woman and men will be attracted to you and you need to know how to react. And what you want to do with such attention."

I nodded, "I know."

"Anyway, why don't I take a look at how you've been getting on? Do you want to pop behind the curtain and slip into the gown again and I'll be with you in a jiffy?"

I did as requested and Dr. Carson came round the curtain. "Cara, may I take a look at your breasts?"

I nodded and lowered the gown. She raised her eyebrows, "Well now. Things have been busy here. I think from now on we should put you onto a lower hormone dose, a maintenance dose." She measured me and gently palpated my growing breast tissue. She then took a look down below as before. I had to admit to her that there was nothing much happening down there recently.

"How does that make you feel Cara?"

I shrugged and wrinkled my brow, "I dunno. I guess I haven't really been thinking about it. It is sort of strange, and I guess I do well miss some of the….functions. But overall, it's sort of something I expected would happen."

She nodded, "It would be in keeping with the results of your hormone profile that I got. You had a low level of androgens and borderline low testosterone level which would explain why your body has responded so rapidly to the oestrogens. Right, all done here, you can get dressed again and come on out."

I did so and took my seat again before her desk. She sat back and regarded me thoughtfully. "Cara, the last time we talked, you mentioned that you were keen to have your own breasts. Is that still how you feel?"

I swallowed and felt my heart lurch but I nodded and forced myself to reply, "Yes. That's right. It is how I feel. The breast forms are hurting me now as they compress my breasts."

She looked a little curious, "Why not stop wearing them? Let your breasts grow naturally?"

I paused for a moment but then figured I needed to explain a few more things. "Dr. Carson, I guess I should tell you a little bit more about what is going on in my life…"

I explained to her about the record deal and the need for secrecy and privacy. I explained how that as people had seen me with my 'full bosom' as I described it, that it would appear strange to suddenly downsize. That was my problem. She nodded, and chewed the end of her pen thoughtfully, "I see." She looked thoughtful for a moment or two, "There is a solution. Now I wouldn't normally recommend this so soon in your transition, but it would be possible."

"Yes?" I asked expectantly. I sort of thought I knew what she was going to say. Part of me hoped I was right, but in a strange way, another part hoped I was wrong.

"You have had enough development now to consider moving straight ahead with breast augmentation surgery. You have enough natural breast tissue for implants to provide you with the breast size you have with your breast forms. What do you think about that?"

There it was. The cruncher. Although I knew in my heart that there really was little chance of going back on what I had already come through, even had I wanted to, this step though seemed to be a definite irrevocable one. Surgery. It seemed so permanent. So final. I knew it wasn't really. What is done, could also be undone. Yet despite all these feelings, I knew what I wanted to do. My throat felt dry and I croaked, "Yes. That's what I want."

"Are you sure?" she asked.

I shrugged, "As sure as I can be."

She nodded thoughtfully, "Alright. Now there are two surgeons I'd consider. Both are absolutely excellent. Their work is impeccable and they are used to dealing with private high-profile cases. The first one I think I mentioned last time does an operating list once a month in a private clinic in Belgium. Would you like me to ring his secretary and see what his schedule is like?"

I swallowed and nodded. She smiled back at me and then lifted her phone and dialled a number.

"Hello, this is Dr. Janice Carson of Harley Street. I was wondering when Mr. Bridges' next available slot for surgery might be on his Belgium list?"

A pause as she listened, "Oh, right. Nothing sooner? I see. Thank you."

She grimaced, "His next list is next week and is full, and next month's is cancelled as he is on holidays so it would be 9 weeks at the soonest."

I nodded, "You mentioned another surgeon?"

"Yes. Mr. Stretton. Although he is considerably more expensive. He does a private list in Switzerland from time to time. But it really is a costly procedure." She looked at me and raised an eyebrow.

I sighed and shrugged, "Money's not really a problem to be honest. Well depending on exactly how much."

She smiled, "Let me see what possibilities there are." She dialled another number, "Hello, Dr. Janice Carson of Harley Street. I have a private patient who needs discreet surgery, when would Mr. Stretton's next available list be?" A pause, "Oh really? Any availability?" Another pause, "Well if he is there, sure I'd like to talk to him." She put her hand over the mouthpiece and spoke to me, "He's leaving for Geneva tomorrow and is operating this weekend." Then someone came on the line as she uncovered the mouthpiece, "Hello Geoff, it's Janice here. It's been a long time. Listen, I've a private patient who needs some discreet surgery…"

I didn't hear much of the rest of the exchange. My mind was reeling. This weekend? Was I ready for this? I rationalised that I probably would never feel totally ready for it. Perhaps if an opportunity presented itself sooner rather than later it would be better as it would give less time for doubt and introspection.

"Cara," Dr. Carson called me back to reality. Her hand was again over the mouthpiece, "Geoff, Mr. Stretton could probably fit you in this weekend. His next private list is not for three months. But it will be costly. Around twenty thousand pounds for surgical and nursing care. That's probably too much isn't it?"

I thought quickly. I had the money. I wanted to do this. I decided to leap right in both feet first, "Err no, that's OK. I'm interested." Her eyebrows rose again but she shrugged and uncovered the mouthpiece, "Geoff, my patient is very interested." She proceeded to take details down over the phone and jotted them on a pad. I was to try to get flights to Geneva either tomorrow or Saturday. I was given the address of the private clinic. Mr. Stretton would see me on Saturday and assuming no contra-indications, surgery would be scheduled for Sunday. I would remain in the clinic until Thursday when he would be flying back in to do a final post op check and all being well discharge me. My head was spinning and it hardly seemed real. I made myself focus as there was something that had come into my mind.

"Umm, does he know about me? I mean you know about me not really being a woman?"

Dr. Carson shook her head, "I didn't tell him. It doesn't make any difference for the surgery. You look like a young woman who wants breast augmentation. You can tell him if you want."

I thought for a moment, "Actually, I think all things considered it would be for the best if I could just be that young woman who wants the surgery. I know this clinic is discreet but if things ever did get out, it would be better that no-one knew the real truth."

She nodded, "I can understand that."

I sighed, "But there is a problem. I'm going to be under anaesthetic and I'm sure my 'secret' down below would be noticed at some time. So I guess there is not much I can do about that."

Dr. Carson nodded sympathetically, "That is a problem. But I think we might be able to do something about that."

I raised an eyebrow, "How?"

It seemed that I wasn't the first of my type of patient who had similar wishes for absolute secrecy and privacy and Dr. Carson had a contact who made customised chastity devices. Although this was usually some form of S&M or fetish wear, it could also serve the purpose that I needed: to hide and protect my 'secret'. I did raise the protest that wouldn't the clinic staff find it strange. But Dr. Carson assured me that with the sort of patient who would be at the clinic, that is the extreme rich, nothing is too surprising. She said I could simply say I wanted to protect my dignity even under anaesthetic. However we were working to a tight schedule. She got on the phone again. It seemed that there may be a possibility to meet my deadline, but of course it would result in a premium price. She got off the phone.

"Cara, here is the address," she handed me a piece of paper, "Now don't worry, this is not seedy. Vic and Sue look on this as a family business, strange as that may sound. But you are going to have to head round there straight away if you want to have a chance of getting this sorted out."

I swallowed nervously and nodded, "OK. I guess."

She smiled, "You'll be fine. And listen, I want to see you in here the week after you get back from Geneva, you hear me?"

I grinned, "Sure thing."

As I left, I felt as if I was in a daze. Things seemed to be moving faster and faster and although I had to admit to being frightened, there also was a certain anticipation and excitement to it all. But I wasn't really relishing the prospect of my next call.

 

----------*----------

 

Vic and Sue Greenwood worked out of their own house in the east end of London. I found it easily enough and plucked up the courage to ring the bell. A young woman answered.

"Hello, Sue?" I said tentatively.

"You must be Nicola," she said with a warm smile. I had told Dr. Carson not to give the name Cara Malone to them.

"Come on in."

I went in and met her husband Vic. They both seemed very normal and down to earth. I wasn't sure what I had been expecting. They offered me a cup of coffee and as we sat and drank, I felt more at ease. They talked about what I needed. With some embarrassment I told them that I needed a chastity device that looked like a female device, but could hold a male's 'equipment'. They seemed very surprised and I had to confirm that that was indeed what I needed. This caused them a dilemma. They worked as a team and Vic would usually do the measurements for the men and Sue for the women. Sue gave me the choice of who I would be more comfortable with. I don't know why, but it seemed more appropriate for it to be Sue. And so it was that she took me into another room and performed rather intimate measurements. As I was going to need this like the next morning, they would have to work all day and a fair part of the night on it. They apologised for the price they were going to have to charge as a result. It was going to cost fifteen hundred pounds. What could I do but accept?

 

----------*----------

 

Later Jools was full of questions about how things had gone with Dr. Carson. I had already decided that I was not going to tell her what I was doing. I just felt this was something I had to do and work through myself. But I did owe my sister a phone call as I had promised her I would talk to her before doing anything like this. I fobbed Jools off with general comments, and told her I was now on a low dose maintenance oestrogen. I told her Dr. Carson was happy with my progress and left it at that.

"Umm Jools?"

"Yes?"

"I was thinking of taking a little holiday break?"

"Really? When?"

"Well, this weekend for about a week."

"Wow, what's got into you?"

I shrugged, "I dunno, I think I just need some time to myself. To relax and recharge a bit. Things have been quite stressful recently."

She nodded, "I guess they have. Where were you thinking of?"

I shrugged, "I've always fancied going to Switzerland. Geneva sounds like a nice place."

Jools frowned, "Won't it be fairly wintry and cold at this time of year?"

I nodded, "Yeah, but there's something nice about the snow, the cold, fresh air and all that."

"I suppose. Look, I'm not too busy, to be honest, I wouldn't mind a little break."

"Jools, I don't mean to sound ungrateful, but I think I could really do with some time to myself."

She looked a little taken aback, "Err OK. And you're happy about you know, travelling as Cara?"

I shrugged, "I've got a valid passport, I don't see any problems, do you?"

She shook her head, "I suppose not. Are you sure you are OK?"

"I'm fine, I just need a break and then I'll be able to get right back into the song writing. The time might help me get some more inspiration." Yeah right.

She seemed to accept this, albeit reluctantly. Next I phoned Jon and let him know I'd be away for a week and would give him a shout when I got back. He accepted it at face value and didn't seem too fussed.

"Hi Claire?"

"Hi…Nicola? Wow, two phone calls in one week, this is most unprecedented."

I chuckled, "Yes, I guess it is…"

"So what can I do for you?"

I paused, "Err Claire. You remember when we were talking at Christmas?"

"Ye-es. But you are going to have to be a bit more specific; we talked about a lot of things."

"Well you remember when you said I was to phone you before doing anything…radical?"

"Yes…wait, what's going on Nicola?"

I explained what my plans were and she seemed quite surprised. When she recovered from the initial shock, she was quite determined about one thing.

"I'm coming with you."

"Claire, it's OK, you don't have to do that."

"Look, do you think I'm going to let you head off to Switzerland, go through surgery and all it entails by yourself? Get real sister, I am coming with you."

"But what about your work, I mean I'm planning to fly out Saturday morning?"

"I'll sort it out, they will have to manage. I am coming with you."

I sighed, "OK Claire, you don't have to do this though."

"I do, of course I do. I said I'd be there for you and I will."

I paused. In a sense I felt glad and relieved. "Thanks Claire."

And so it was that I booked two British Airways flights from Heathrow to Geneva leaving Saturday morning with an open-ended return.

 

----------*----------

On Friday morning, I returned to Vic and Sue's house. They had worked halfway through the night and I felt bad. I apologised but they laughed and told me not to as I was paying for their lack of sleep. Sue again took me into the other room and I stripped down again. She brought out the device. It was made of a grey plastic-acrylic composite. There was a little small tube for my manhood to go into and she assured me that I would still be able to perform all necessary bodily functions. She gently fitted it onto me and clicked the waistband into place. It felt strange, but not uncomfortable. She checked it out from all sides and seemed satisfied. She told me that normally they would advise a customer to wear it for 24 hours and then to return for a check up, but I had told her that wouldn't be possible.

She gave me three keys and showed me how the locking mechanism worked. She assured me that it was quite secure. Although it wasn't metal, it could not be cut off without professional tools and risk of personal injury. In the event that I did lose the three keys, they kept spare master keys. I was very impressed with their workmanship and told them so. When I pulled my panties up, there was absolutely no bulge and my appearance was completely feminine. I gave them their hard-earned cheque and thanked them. They thanked me for giving them a challenging new design to prepare. Before I left, I had to ask about personal privacy and they assured me that their whole business was built on discretion and that I had nothing to worry about. I was a little perturbed that two more people potentially could reveal the truth, but I tried to put this out of my mind.

The rest of the day was spent with me getting packed and ready for my trip. We were flying out very early the next morning. Claire was going to stay with a friend nearby and get a taxi to swing by and pick me up the next morning to take us to the airport.

 

----------*----------

 

"Morning," Claire yawned at me as I got into the taxi.

"Hi. Early start isn't it?"

"Far too early. Please tell me you haven't been out for a run at this ungodly hour?"

I laughed, "No, too early even for the new me."

"Good," she paused, "So are you sure about this?" She looked at me with concern in her eyes.

I shrugged, "I guess. As sure as I ever will be. I'm not going to pretend I don't have some doubts and I'm not saying I'm not just a little bit scared. But this is what I want."

She nodded, "As long as you have thought this through."

"I have. It makes sense and I do want to go through with this." I paused and turned to look at her, "It means a lot to me that you dropped everything to come with me. I mean, I didn't expect it."

She grinned and squeezed my arm, "As I said, there is no way on this earth I'd even dream of letting you do this on your own."

"Were you able to get the time off work OK?"

She shrugged, "It wasn't easy, the boss grumbled a bit, but I said my sister was being taken into hospital and I had to be with her. What could he say?" She grinned, "Anyway, if I wasn't able to get away, I was going to send Mum in my place."

I'm sure I went white and looked at her sharply, "Uhh what?"

She laughed, "Had you there. That would have been a shock to you, wouldn't it? But on that theme, don't you think you should tell Mum and Dad. I mean, after all that has happened, don't you think it is better overall to keep them in the loop?"

I nodded, "Absolutely."

"So you are going to tell them what you are doing?"

"I am going to tell them what I have done, once it is over."

"You think that is best?"

I sighed, "I don't know, but I know that I can't face the inquisition and questions right now. I'm nervous enough and I've made my mind up. I will tell them when we get back." I rubbed my eyes, "Can't say I'm looking forward to the prospect. How do you think they'll react?"

Claire gave me one of her looks, "I think they'll flip again."

I grimaced, "Yes, I think they will too." I exhaled slowly, "This is difficult."

She was silent for a minute, and then spoke softly, "It is. I don't think it can be any other way, and being honest, I think it will continue to be difficult. They haven't really accepted this all. It is more resigned reluctance on their part, but I think this will bring it all to the fore again. I don't mean to make things harder for you, but I just want to check you have thought it through."

I nodded and gave her a wan smile, "I know. I'm really grateful for you being with me. I know that you have found it hard to accept too, but I really appreciate the efforts you are making."

She shrugged, "It's your decision. I have to accept it and I may have lost a brother, but I don't want to lose a sister also."

 

----------*----------

 

The check in at the airport was uneventful. I did have a brief moment of irrational fear at passport control, but it was unwarranted. I was exactly as my passport indicated: a young woman. The flight took an hour and a half and I tried to doze but my mind was too active. Claire didn't have any such problem and went into a coma as soon as the plane was airborne. We passed through customs and passport control in Geneva International airport without incident and hailed a taxi cab outside after collecting our baggage. I let Claire do the talking as she was more fluent in French than I was. It wouldn't have been hard.

"Bonjour Monsieur. Clinique médicale privée de Genève, s'il vous plait," Claire said which impressed me no end.

The taxi driver shrugged his shoulders, "Savez-vous où c'est?"

I was lost and hoped that Claire was following this. She was. She checked the address on the card I had and replied, "Oui. Rue de Vidollet."

"Ah bien sûr," the taxi driver clicked his fingers and moved the car into gear.

I nudged Claire, "Good to see you're making yourself useful. She poked me in the ribs in response and surreptitiously stuck her tongue out at me. The clinic was in an upscale neighbourhood. It was a modern yet tasteful two storey building. I felt nauseated as we walked up to the entrance. The doors slid apart and we walked in. The lobby was so plush that one could have been forgiven for mistaking it for a luxury hotel. The thought entered my mind that not many luxury hotels would cost as much for a five or six night stay as this one would. The receptionist smiled as we approached the desk, "Bonjour madames, comment est-ce que je peux vous aider?"

I smiled helplessly and looked at Claire, she murmured to me, "Oh come on, even you can do this one?"

I looked at her blankly. She just smiled and turned to the receptionist, "Parlez-vous anglais?" I grinned, I understood now.

The receptionist nodded and in near accent less English replied, "But of course madame. How can I help you?" Claire turned to me and indicated for me to reply.

I smiled nervously, "Umm hello. My name is Cara Malone. I'm booked in to see Mr. Stretton."

The receptionist tapped on the keyboard on front of her and looked at her monitor, "Ah yes Miss Malone. You have been allocated Room 106. Just let me call a nurse for you and she will show you where that is and get you checked in."

I thanked her. I had to keep reminding myself that this wasn't actually a hotel. I was almost looking for the bell boy to take my luggage up for me. It wasn't long before a young dark haired nurse came along, "Bonjour, êtes-vous Cara Malone?"

The receptionist called out, "En anglais Marie."

The nurse smiled apologetically, "Sorry. Cara Malone?"

I stood up and nodded, "Yes that's me."

"Pleased to meet you, I'm Marie and I will be your primary nurse during your stay with us. Please follow me and I will take you to your room."

I followed her up and when I saw my room, it was reminiscent of a hotel room. Except for the hospital bed that is. Apart from that, it was nicely carpeted, it had a tea and coffee maker, television and ensuite bathroom. Marie took down my details and asked about any medical problems I had or any medications I was on. I didn't have much to tell her. She checked my pulse, temperature and blood pressure. Then she took a blood sample and separated it into a few different bottles. She explained that these were routine preoperative blood tests. She left Claire and I alone and said that Mr. Stretton would be along shortly. As advised by Marie, I changed into a nightdress.

I couldn't relax and found myself pacing up and down the room. Claire found this to be a mixture of amusing and irritating, but I couldn't help it. It was different from a hotel though: you didn't have to ring for room service here, it just arrived itself. Two trays were brought in for Claire and me. A light salad and bowl of soup with yoghurts and orange juice. Very healthy. I ate very little of it. Unlike Claire who didn't have any appetite problems. It was about three p.m. when a tall dark haired man with a trim moustache knocked lightly on the door before walking in. He was dressed in surgical scrubs. Marie followed him in.

"Hello, I'm Geoff Stretton," he smiled at me and in his crisp upper class accent continued, "You must be Cara Malone." He shook my hand, "And this is?" He turned to Claire.

I realised a potential for confusion here and didn't want to explain the whole Malone/Evans thing. "Umm this is my sister Claire," I left it at that. He shook her hand and then asked her if she wouldn't mind leaving us for a few moments. Claire did as she was asked.

"Now Miss Malone I believe you are here for breast augmentation surgery, no?"

I swallowed and nodded, "That's right."

He smiled, "Well let me put you at ease. You have come to the right place. It's not a matter of boasting, but to give you confidence let me assure you that I count myself as a leading expert in this cosmetic field. I perform more of these operations each year than almost anyone in Europe and I pride myself on performing surgery that is unnoticeable within a month post op. Does that make you feel better? You look very tense my dear."

I smiled and nodded, "Yes thanks." He had a smooth bedside manner which was obviously practiced and polished. But it did have the desired effect.

"Now Miss Malone, may I examine you?" I nodded and smiled nervously. Marie squeezed my hand and helped me cover my lower half with a sheet as I lifted up my nightdress. I felt very embarrassed. Although I was still adjusting to my new self, at that point I was very much a woman. And being examined by a man was disconcerting. I was glad Marie was there. He gently examined my breasts. There was nothing improper about it, it was clinical and professional, but I was still glad to lower my nightdress when he was finished.

"Now Miss Malone, I see from Dr. Carson's referral that you are wanting D cup breasts is that right?"

I flushed and nodded, "Err yes."

"Don't be embarrassed my dear. There's nothing to be ashamed of. I can guarantee you that you will be most satisfied with the outcome. I can guarantee you that you will have the breasts that you desire." He winked, "Although there is one thing I won't be able to do."

I raised an eyebrow, "What's that?"

He smiled, "I won't be able to make you any more beautiful."

I laughed and felt myself flush again. Marie tutted lightheartedly, "Monsieur Stretton!"

He shrugged his shoulders, "Merely speaking the truth my dears, nothing more, nothing less." He went on to explain the basic details of the surgery, possible complications and the post operative care. I nodded at several points but had difficulty taking all of it in. Marie produced a consent form. Mr. Stretton signed it first to indicate that he had explained the procedure to me. He then asked me if I had any questions. I didn't. I took the form and signed my name, Cara Malone, in the required space. I was going to be the first case on the morning list the next day. He breezed out with Marie in his wake and although I did feel more at ease, as time moved on bringing me closer to surgery, I felt more nervous tension building up. Claire stayed with me all afternoon and evening. After she had left to head for her nearby hotel, I felt suddenly alone and vulnerable. Marie had gone off shift and the night nurse was called Antoinette. She was older and more matron-like, but not unfriendly. I didn't think I would sleep too well so I gratefully accepted the offer of a night sedative. It worked well.

 

----------*----------

 

I wasn't offered any breakfast the next morning as I was fasting for surgery. I didn't miss it as my stomach was doing somersaults. I had changed into my theatre gown. It really is impossible to protect your dignity in those things. I was glad of my 'covering' down below and the key was safely tucked away in a pocket inside my suitcase. Let them think what they wanted about it, I didn't care. At eight o'clock, I was wheeled down to the theatre suite. A middle-aged balding man in scrubs introduced himself to me, "Hello Miss Malone, I am Dr. Bob Fitzgerald and I will be your anaesthetist. It's my job to make sure you have a nice sleep while Geoff works his magic on you. Now let me slip an IV cannula into your arm." He put a tourniquet on my arm and tapped on a vein on the front of my elbow joint. "A little scratch now," he warned as he slipped a needle in. The pain was only momentary and then it was done. He taped the cannula into place. He drew up a syringe of white liquid and brought it over.

"What's that?" I asked nervously.

He smiled kindly, "It's a drug called Propofol, otherwise known as magic milk. As I inject this, you count to ten with me and I guarantee you will be doing well to get past 6 or 7."

I didn't think that anything short of a hammer to the head would put me out as my heart thumped against the inside of my ribs. He placed the syringe into the injection port of the cannula, "Now count with me." He began to inject.

I counted with him, "One…two…three…four…five…"

 

To be continued…

  

 

 

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