by P R Ellis
‘Hi, Ange. Yes, I’m fine thanks. This is Viv.’ Jasmine placed her weight on Viv’s arm a little as they took small steps towards the entrance to her flat. Angela grabbed the suitcase and towed it along behind Jasmine and Viv.
‘Are you sure you’re OK? Does it hurt?’
‘Yes, I’m sure, Ange. It’s a bit sore but no worse than I was told to expect. There’s no need to fuss.’
They mounted the short flight of steps and arrived at the door side by side. Jasmine fumbled in her bag for her key.
‘Let me do that.’ Angela said, grabbing the bag from Jasmine’s hands. She found the key and put it in the lock. Angela pushed the door open and let Jasmine enter on Viv’s arm. Jasmine lurched the few steps to her sofa and gingerly lowered herself onto it.
‘I’ll put the kettle on,’ Viv said and moved into the kitchen.
‘How long have you known him?’ Angela whispered, carefully placing Jasmine’s bag on the floor beside her and pushing the suitcase out of the way.
‘A few days,’ Jasmine replied. Was it really just that? It seemed like she knew Viv so well they must have been friends for months if not years. ‘He’s just moved into one of the flats, temporarily.’
‘Why didn’t you ask me to help you? I didn’t even know you had the appointment.’
Jasmine wanted to pour it all out about what Luke had said to her, but stopped herself. ‘I told you, Ange. I was going to when we went out for the evening. But Luke said a few things and I realised I don’t have the right to expect you to leap to my assistance every time I ask.’
‘Oh, don’t be silly. Rights! We’ve been through a lot, me and you. OK, we’re apart now, but I will always be there for you. Now, what did Luke say?’
Jasmine smiled. This was the Angela she knew and still loved - organised, eager, sympathetic. ‘You’ll have to ask Luke. It’s not for me to say - not to you.’
Angela was silent. Jasmine almost counted the seconds before she spoke again, slowly, quietly. ‘Luke’s a bit of a hunk. Man’s man type.’
Jasmine nodded.
‘I think I had better have a few words with him.’
Viv appeared carrying a tray.
‘Black coffee OK? Jasmine doesn’t seem to do milk.’
‘I’m sorry, I don’t think I can stay,’ Angela said, ‘I need to speak to someone rather urgently. Bye, Jas. I’ll come and see you again very soon.’ She leaned down and kissed Jasmine on the cheek, then hurried out.
‘What was that all about?’ Viv asked, still standing holding the tray.
‘I think Luke is going to find himself under interrogation,’ Jasmine said, ‘I’d love a coffee, by the way.’
‘Oh, yes, here,’ Viv bent to lower the tray to Jasmine’s level.
They drank their coffee and chatted for a while until Viv put his mug down on the table. ‘I’m sure you could do with a bit of peace. I’ll head back to my place, but I’ll be back about six with dinner. Is that OK?’
‘That’s lovely, Viv. You’re so kind,’ Jasmine felt a tear of gratitude form in her eye and she wondered what she had done to deserve the support and friendship of such a nice guy. Viv leaned down like Angela had done and kissed her on the cheek. This was different though. Instead of the comfortable familiarity of Angela’s lips, the touch of Viv’s seemed to send a spark of electricity through Jasmine.
‘Why, Viv?’
‘Why what?’
‘Why are you being so good to me? We hardly know each other.’
‘That’s true, but I hope we’ll get to know each other a lot better. I like you Jas. You’ve had some difficult decisions to make and you go your own way. I like that and I want to help you.’
‘Well, thanks.’
‘I’ll be back in a few hours. Take it easy.’
‘I will. I promise.’
Viv left and pulled the door closed behind him. Jasmine sat quietly contemplating. Did her relationship with Viv have a future? She couldn’t imagine him wanting someone who wasn’t yet a fully-functioning woman, but he seemed prepared to wait and see how things went.
She felt drained. The lingering effects of the anaesthetic and a delayed response to the surgery made her feel as exhausted as if she’d done a 10K run. Content just to sit quietly, her thoughts turned once again to the identity of Xristal’s murderer.
Who were the suspects? The list still seemed to include Parfitt, Honey, the Taylors, the as yet un-named clients and perhaps persons of whom she had no knowledge at all. Parfitt seemed to be in the clear, and after her evening with Honey she felt that she too was an unlikely killer. How successful had Tom’s search been, she wondered. She pulled her phone out of her bag and tried his number again. This time it was answered, but Tom’s voice was accompanied by road and engine noise.
‘Hi Jas, How are you? How did it go?’
‘I’m fine. The op went well.’
‘Good. Look I’m sorry if I said something wrong to Angela. I rang her to see how you were, thinking she’d be collecting you.’
‘I’ll explain it sometime.’
‘OK, but how did you get back? I guess you are back home?’
‘Yes, I’m home. Viv collected me.’
‘Viv?’
‘A friend.’
‘Oh,’
‘Look, I rang you to find out how the investigation’s going. Where are you?’
‘Between Brighton and Eastbourne. The last couple days have been a tour of southern England nicks.’
‘Any result?’
‘We’ve located and questioned a number of Xristal’s clients.’
‘And?’
‘Well, once we got over their reluctance to talk about their experiences with a prostitute, a trans one with an interest in BDSM, they’ve been very keen to help.’
‘But?’
‘They all said what a fantastic person Xristal was and they couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to hurt her as in really not make-believe hurt.’
‘None of them a suspect then?’
‘I suppose they’re all technically still suspects, but their alibis hold up and even under hard questioning they’ve all stuck to the story that Xristal was a pretty special sort of whore who got to know her clients well before they got into the handcuffs and chains business. It seems she was very careful who she acted the submissive with. They all sounded very grateful for the experience she gave them and sorry she won’t be around to do it again.’
‘The perfect businesswoman.’
‘Yeah, and she made enough from it too. Her fees were through the roof.’
‘So, no dissatisfied customers, nobody wanting their money back or a free offer on the side?’
‘Nothing like that.’
‘That’s not very helpful, Tom.’
‘No, but it’s the way it is. There are still quite a number to check out though. Xristal kept herself pretty busy in order to earn the money she needed. We’re on the road tomorrow too, and Sloane’s coming out as well. If we don’t get any better leads from her clients it looks like Honey Potts is the prime suspect.
‘Hmm, perhaps.’
‘We’ve got no lead on her yet, though.’
‘No?’ Jasmine almost blurted out what she knew about Honey, but she remembered her promise to keep it to herself until tomorrow.
‘Anyway. You look after yourself. I’ll fill you in when I get back tomorrow and let you know if we have any more leads.’
‘OK, Tom. Take care.’
The phone went silent. Were Xristal’s clients really all so highly satisfied with her, or was one hiding their guilt behind their effusive praise for her skills? Jasmine hoped one of them would let their cover slip and give them the vital lead to solve the crime, but she hoped it wouldn’t be until she was running around again and could take a full part in the chase - perhaps in a couple of days’ time.
She pushed herself out of her seat and turned on the TV. She’d watched a fair bit of daytime television when she hadn’t been in demand as a private eye, but
had thankfully lost the habit in the last couple of months when more business had come her way. She sat half-asleep, half-watching the afternoon soaps, an activity so tedious she almost wished she was back out in the car on surveillance duty. It must have been about five o’clock when the doorbell suddenly rang.
She clicked the TV off with the remote and again had to use her arms to lever herself from the sofa. Her groin was sore and ached. Perhaps it was time for some more painkillers? The bell rang again before she covered the few feet to the door. She opened it.
‘Hello Jasmine. How are you?’ It was Dr.Gould.
‘Hi, Jilly, come in.’ Jasmine turned and shuffled back to the sofa. Dr Gould followed her in and closed the door.
‘I’m just off to the evening surgery but I thought I’d see how you were doing. How did it go?’
‘Fine, so I’m told. I didn’t see or feel a thing. A bit sore though.’
‘Have you taken anything?’
‘I think I’m due now.’
‘Well, you take them. Let’s have a look.’ Jasmine lifted her skirt and Dr Gould peered at the thick dressing covering her genitalia. She pressed a pair of fingers to Jasmine’s thighs and lower abdomen. ‘Can you feel that?’
Jasmine reflected that more people had looked and poked at her groin area in the last twelve hours than at any time in her life. ‘Yes. It feels normal.’
‘Good. Well, I’m not going to take the dressing off to have a look at your scrotum. I’ve arranged for the District Nurse to come in tomorrow morning to change the dressing for you.’
‘Thanks.’
‘She’ll probably be quite early, before she goes on her usual rounds.’
‘That’s OK.’
‘You should feel better tomorrow, but be careful. It may seem like there’s just two little incisions to heal, but there are all the blood vessels and things inside that have to close up too. You don’t want to go straining the sutures.’
‘No, I don’t.’
‘So how do you feel about it?’
‘About what?’
‘Losing your testicles.’
Jasmine realised that a few hours had passed since she last thought about it.
‘I’m not sure. Pleased that it’s over with. Proud that I’ve made a real start on my reassignment. Eager to see what the effects will be.’
‘Good. I’m glad you don’t have any regrets.’
‘It would be a bit late for those, wouldn’t it?’
‘Indeed,’ Jilly nodded.
‘Anyway, it is something I’ve been looking forward to for a long time now, or at least part of what I’ve looked forward to – the rest is still to come.’
‘That’s right. At least you can stop taking those anti-androgens. You’re not making testosterone anymore. We’ll keep a check on things and see what dose of oestrogens you need, probably less now.’
‘Good.’
‘So you should now notice fewer side effects and a quicker change in your physical characteristics.’
‘That’s exactly what I want to hear.’
‘I’m sorry I can’t stay longer. Perhaps one day we can have that evening out we keep promising each other?’
Jasmine grinned. How often had they said that? ‘Thanks for dropping in.’
‘Well, you look after yourself. Don’t get up, I can let myself out.’ Jilly too leaned down and kissed her on the cheek before leaving.
Jasmine heaved herself up and went into the kitchen to take a couple of Paracetamol, then returned to the sofa. She felt happier now. Jilly’s visit, though brief, had bucked her up. The aches and pains faded away as she thought about her future without testicles, her increasingly feminine appearance and, perhaps in the not too distant future, more surgery to provide her with a vagina. She was sexless at the moment, with neither male nor female genitalia - but determinedly female in her gender.
It wasn’t long before the bell rang again and again Jasmine hauled herself upright. It was Viv bearing a tray laden with covered bowls. There was also a wine bottle tucked under his arm. Jasmine hurried as fast as her tightly-bound groin would let her to clear papers from the dining table. Viv bent to lower the tray to the table and extracted the bottle from his armpit.
‘I’ve cooked Jamaican Curried Chicken – my father’s recipe. You’ll love it. It’s really hot. And I’ve brought a bottle of bubbly to celebrate.’
‘Celebrate?’
‘Your successful de-manning!’
Jasmine laughed. ‘Well, I’m very happy to celebrate that! I didn’t expect anyone else to treat it as a joyful occasion though.’
‘Anything that makes you happy makes me happy. I’ll get some glasses and dishes. You sit down.’
Viv disappeared into the kitchen and Jasmine heard him crashing and banging in cupboards and drawers. Probably looking for my non-existent best china, Jasmine thought. He soon returned with bowls, wine glasses, knives and forks.
‘These are all I could find.’
‘I’m afraid they’re all I’ve got,’ Jasmine said, amused by the look of mock disgust on Viv’s face. ‘I don’t entertain much.’
‘Well, they’ll have to do. Hold the glasses while I crack open the bottle.’
The cork came out of the bottle with a satisfying pop and bubbles gushed into and over the glasses. Jasmine giggled as she licked her fingers. ‘Wow, this is such a treat.’
‘Well, it’s not a special cru, but it’ll do.’ He took a glass from Jasmine’s hand. ‘To you, Jasmine, and your future as a woman.’
‘Thanks - and thank you for all your help today. You’ve been a total star.’
‘My pleasure. Look, let’s get stuck into the curry before it gets cold.’
Jasmine was just lifting the first forkful of curry to her mouth, the spicy aroma filling her with eager anticipation, when the door-bell rang again. She sighed and lowered her fork, contemplating heaving herself from the chair to answer it. Viv, however, was already on his feet, opening the door. Angela stumbled in. Jasmine was shocked by her appearance. Her eyes were a mess of smudged eyeshadow and mascara, and tears streaked her usually flawless cheeks.
‘Oh, Jas, I’m sorry,’ she sobbed, rushing to Jasmine and bending to hug her.
‘What’s the matter, Ange? Come and sit down. Join us. Viv’s made a fantastic Jamaican curry.’
Angela stood up and looked around, apparently seeing Viv for the first time as he closed the door and returned to the dining table. ‘I’m sorry. I’m disturbing your dinner,’ she said.
‘Stop saying you’re sorry and come and join us.’ Jasmine was not used to a flustered Angela.
‘Here, take my seat,’ Viv said, ‘I’ll go and see if Jas runs to another plate or dish.’ He went out into the kitchen.
Angela sat at the table facing Jasmine. ‘I’ve been such an idiot, Jas.’
‘What do you mean? What’s happened?’
‘It’s Luke. I hadn’t realised what he was really like.’
‘Oh.’ Jasmine was able to guess a little of what had happened. ‘You saw him, then?’
‘Yes. I asked him what he’d said to you on Friday. He denied saying anything at first, but when I pressed him he got angry and then it all came out.’
‘Did it? Oh, Ange,’ Jasmine felt guilty now. She had come between Angela and her new boyfriend.
‘I knew he was a bloke-ish sort of guy, but the vile things he came out with…’
‘I can imagine,’ Jasmine said quietly.
‘I told him he mustn’t say those things about you; that I still cared about you. That did it.’
‘Really?’
‘He said I had to choose between him and you. I couldn’t have both. So I told him to get lost and that I didn’t want to see him again.’
‘Oh, Angela. I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to come between you. I wanted you to have a good time.’
‘I know, Jas. You’ve been so good encouraging me to meet someone.’
‘Have I?’ Jasmine could only recall h
er jealousy at hearing that Angela was seeing another man and probably having sex with him.
‘I was enjoying it.’
‘What?’
‘The sex. It’s been a while, Jas.’
‘I know.’
‘But I thought that we could all be friends. That I could still be there for you when you needed me – like today.’ Angela let out a small croak of a sob.
‘It’s all right, Ange. Viv picked me up.’
Angela sniffed. ‘Oh yes. Viv.’
‘Look, Angela,’ Jasmine took a deep breath. ‘I’m so sorry that it hasn’t worked out with Luke. We’ve discussed it a lot over the years. We agreed that we would have to part and perhaps find new partners. We’ll always have the time we spent together and I hope we can always be friends. I owe you so much and I don’t want to stand in your way of finding someone you can share a life with.’ She became conscious of Viv standing by her side holding a plate.
‘Perhaps I’d better go,’ he said, ‘leave you two to sort things out.’
‘No, Viv. You cooked this meal for us and we’re going to eat it together. Angela, would you like some?’
Angela got a tissue out of her handbag and wiped her eyes. She looked at the empty plate that Viv held out, then up at his face. ‘No. Thank you, but I’ll leave you both to finish your dinner.’ She stood up, smoothed down her skirt and picked up her bag.
Jasmine pushed herself up, wincing as a stab of pain passed through her groin. ‘Please don’t go, Angela. There’s plenty of food. I think Viv overestimated my appetite.’
‘No, really, I don’t want to disturb you. I’ll give you a call tomorrow, Jas, to see how you’re doing.’
She took the couple of steps to the door and pulled it open. She turned and gave Jasmine a thin smile and then was gone.
‘Angela. I do love you still.’ Jasmine murmured softly to the closing door. She felt a heaviness on her chest, an overwhelming feeling of regret, greater even than when she had moved out of their shared home, or even when the divorce had come through. Somehow, this parting seemed more final than any other. All their discussions and decision-making over the years hadn’t prepared her for the realisation that at some point in her transition she would lose Angela; that the bond between them would be severed. Was that what had just happened in the last few minutes?