by P R Ellis
‘Make sure you do. We’ll be back Monday evening. And don’t forget the extra, for the insurance.’ He nodded to his companion. The silent fellow crossed the shop floor to the rack of dresses, took a grip of the rail and tipped it. The steel frame crashed over, spilling frocks across the wooden floor. ‘Whoops. Accidents happen. You wouldn’t want a bigger accident to happen if you delay paying, would you?’ He turned, beckoned to his assistant and marched out of the shop.
Evelyn followed them, her whole body shaking. She pushed the door closed and dropped the latch once more. She lifted the clothes rail back on to its legs and methodically rehung all the dresses on their hangers. She hoped Leigh’s cheque could be cashed on Monday.
She turned at the sound of a key turning in the lock. The door opened again to let in a slim elegantly dressed woman a few inches taller than Evelyn, but of similar age, followed by a younger, dark-haired man with broad shoulders and the stance of a bodybuilder.
‘Oh, hello, Harriet,’ Evelyn said standing with her head bowed and hands crossed in front of her
‘Why aren’t you upstairs preparing dinner, Evelyn? Tyler and I are starving.’
‘I had a visit from Neville Griffiths’ goons.’
‘Those thugs! What did they want?’
‘Money.’
‘Of course they do. I told you not to borrow from that criminal.’
Evelyn sighed. ‘I had no choice. You insisted that I pay off Gary Nicholls.’
‘Don’t go blaming me for your financial incompetence. If you’d made a success of this business, you could have bought out Gary with no problems and we’d be rid of him.’
‘It was you that gave him a third share when you and he were…’
‘How dare you make it seem that your troubles are my fault,’ Harriet screamed, ‘You’re in for more punishment later, I promise you.’
‘Yes, dear,’ Evelyn replied, her voice weak and trembling.
‘Now get upstairs where you should be. Tyler and I need a drink.’
As Evelyn climbed the stairs she heard Harriet speak in a much softer voice.
‘Come along, my darling. Let’s get you out of these horribly restricting clothes and think about the lovely things we can do to each other.’
4
MONDAY 30th SEPTEMBER
MORNING
Jasmine gazed out of the conservatory windows. The temperature outside may be autumnal, but the bright sunshine made the garden and the country beyond look warm and inviting. This morning she felt that she might have the energy to do more than a gentle stroll around the garden. She knew she shouldn’t spend so much time just sitting more than a fortnight after her operation.
The first week had been difficult; she couldn’t believe how tired she felt. Viv kept on telling her it was to be expected after major surgery, but she felt guilty doing nothing at home while he went out to work, even though she couldn’t have stirred herself anyway. But now the fatigue was fading and the soreness between her legs was wearing off despite the infection that she had developed on leaving the hospital. It was getting a little easier doing the thrice daily dilations although her vulva was still swollen. There was little feeling in her clitoris, which wasn’t surprising considering the manner in which it had been fashioned from the glans of her excised penis. Now she was beginning to get impatient, with herself as much as anyone, for not having the energy, the inclination, the simple “get up and go” to stir herself.
Part of the problem was perhaps the feeling of contentment. She knew how lucky she was. First, she was now the woman she had long felt herself to be and soon she would be fit enough to try out the new organ she had been given, although that in itself was another quandary – how would Viv feel? No one could now question her assertion that she was female, not unless they did a DNA test on her, but could Viv forget what she had been? He said he had always thought of her as a woman but did she believe him? She also realised how lucky she was to be living in this smart and spacious home, so much more comfortable than her old, dingy flat. That was Viv again of course. Okay, they had looked around potential properties together and both agreed that this was the one, but it was Viv’s salary that secured the mortgage not her pitiful earnings as a private investigator, and her past as a rising police detective no longer counted.
The last nine months had passed in a whirl of activity – choosing the house, moving in, settling into a shared life with Viv, and the news that her gender confirmation was imminent. Now things had slowed, or had in fact stopped, while she recovered. She glanced at her watch; time for the first dilation of the day.
Jasmine climbed the stairs, still feeling a twinge of pain in her abdomen as she lifted each foot. She went into her bedroom; yes, it was hers not theirs. Viv had graciously given her the room with the ensuite while she prepared and went through with her confirmation surgery. The move to a shared room and bed was planned for the near future. That thought gave Jasmine both a thrill and and worry. Would she be woman enough for Viv? What would intercourse with a man feel like?
For now, the room was hers alone. Her clothes, a growing wardrobe, again thanks to Viv’s generosity, occupied the small dressing room. Her laptop lived on the dressing table amongst her cosmetics, and the double bed was hers to spread out in.
She shrugged off the loose jogging pants and slipped out of her knickers – no longer the big, tight pants she used to wear. The feel of thin, light, pretty knickers was one of her daily pleasures. She lay on the bed, reached for the hand-mirror, spread her legs and examined herself. As the swelling reduced and her flesh took on a less vivid colouration she grew more and more amazed at the wonders the surgeon had wrought. For years, she couldn’t bear to look between her legs; now it was an object of fascination. She put the mirror down and reached into the bedside drawer for the dilators. This wasn’t a pleasure, more of a chore, but one she was resigned to now that it needed to be done. She felt that she was preparing herself for Viv.
………………
‘Look at it from my point of view, Mr Bunting.’
Evelyn frowned while holding the phone to her ear. She didn’t like being referred to by the male honorific but she wasn’t in a position to correct her supplier.
‘It’s a firm order, Mr Rana.’
‘I know it is, but will I get paid? You already have a big debt to repay, Mr Bunting, for previous orders.’
He’s taunting me, Evelyn thought, he knows I’ve lived as a woman for years.
‘Those bills will be paid, Mr Rana. This order is special.’
‘Of course it’s special. These all-singing, all-dancing body suits are bloody expensive and they are made to order. If I take the order and you don’t pay for it, I’m stuck with it. That’s why I need cash in advance.’
Evelyn sweated into her dress. She couldn’t pay for the body-suit in advance because she had withdrawn the cash from the account to pay Griffiths. If she didn’t hand over the cash to Griffiths’ thugs this evening she wouldn’t have a business and perhaps not a life. There was only one thing to do – lie.
‘I’ll put a cheque in the post Mr Rana. First thing tomorrow morning. I promise.’
‘No Mr Bunting, I cannot accept your promises. Your cheques have a habit of bouncing. I need to see your cash or, of course you could transfer the funds from your bank account to mine like most businessmen do these days.’
‘I’ll do that, Mr Rana, I promise.’
‘We’ll see, Mr Bunting. Until then, no order.’ The phone line clicked. Evelyn sighed and put the phone down. What was she to do. Leigh was already pestering her for a delivery date for her suit and knew that her cheque had been cashed, but Akash Rana wouldn’t accept the order without payment in advance and Evelyn needed the money to pay off some of the loan from Griffiths which was used to buy out Gary Nicholls, her former partner. Meanwhile Harriet expected to live the life of a business tycoon with all the expense that that entailed.
She shook her head. The business was doomed anyway. Few people came all the
way to Thirsbury to visit the shop and the website took few orders because browsers went straight to the big suppliers like Rana’s company. Perhaps though there was a way. She pulled open the filing drawer beside her desk and rummaged through the papers. Eventually she let out a cry of success. She read the document word for word, and in particular the date at the end. Yes, it was all paid up and valid. She reached for the phone again and dialled Neville Griffiths’ number.
………………
Viv arrived home soon after five. Jasmine felt a little guilty that he was still striving to leave work as early as possible despite the responsibilities of his job.
‘How have you been today, love?’ he said having leant forward to kiss her lips.
‘Improving.’ It had been her daily mantra for at least the last week.
Viv tipped his head sideways. ‘Really?’
‘Yes, really. I’ve only taken one painkiller today, and I don’t feel so tired.’
Viv’s face crinkled into a broad smile. ‘That’s great. You’re ready to entertain Angela and, what’s his name, her new bloke?’
‘Simon. Yes, I’m looking forward to seeing both of them. I’ve even been in the kitchen getting stuff ready.’
‘You? In the kitchen?’
‘Yes, I’ve opened two packets of nibbles.’
Viv laughed. ‘Well, I’m glad you won’t starve while I cook my one pot chicken.’
‘Is that one of your father’s specialities?’
‘Of course, brought from Jamaica and entrusted to me, eventually.’ He put his arms around her waist and pulled her towards him. She winced. Viv dropped his hands and stepped back. ‘Sorry. Was I too rough?’
Jasmine was annoyed with herself. ‘No, it wasn’t your fault. Let’s try again; a little more gently.’
Jasmine had been sitting by the front window as dusk darkened into night. While Viv busied in the kitchen, she was looking out for Angela and Simon’s arrival, feeling apprehensive. There was no problem between Viv and Angela; she knew they both loved her. Angela accepted that she and Jasmine were no longer a couple and Viv had shown no sign of being jealous of the continued close friendship between Angela and Jasmine. Jasmine thought, and hoped, that he viewed them as long-time girlfriends rather than the former husband and wife that they had actually been. The problem was Simon, well, not necessarily Simon himself. Jasmine still felt a little raw at her encounter with Angela’s first post-divorce lover, Luke. He had turned out to be a transphobe and Angela had hastily dumped him. It had taken her a long time to try again and Simon was the lucky fellow.
Jasmine didn’t want to be judgemental, but she couldn’t help wanting to be sure that Angela had found someone who would love and respect her as much as she herself had done when she had been James most of the time. She knew she no longer had the right to give her opinion to Angela but on the other hand Angela still seemed to want her approval, hence this evening’s meeting.
After visiting her in hospital, Angela had rung and texted frequently and suggested this evening get together as soon as she felt that Jasmine was recovered enough. Viv of course was happy to oblige.
A car drew up outside and put out its lights. The shadowy shape of a man got out of the passenger seat and stood still until he was joined by the driver. Jasmine’s first observation was that he was a good few inches taller than Angela which made him a good few inches taller than her. As they approached the illuminated porch Jasmine could see he was also slim and dark. She slipped off the couch and hurried to open the front door.
5
MONDAY 7th OCTOBER
EVENING
‘Yes, Mr Griffiths, I understand. Everything will be ready. Thank you.’ Evelyn heard the click of the line closing and she put the phone down on her desk with a smile spreading across her face. Everything was falling into place as she had hoped. She got up from her seat and went to lock the shop door. It was dark outside and the street quiet.
A call came from upstairs. Well, less a call, more of a screeched demand. Evelyn turned and hurried up the stairs, the hem of her long dress gathered in her arms. At the top of the stairs she turned left, into the bedroom. Harriet was lying on the bed, naked, with Tyler beside her also unclothed, kissing her left nipple.
‘What were you doing downstairs, Sissy?’ Evelyn’s wife asked in an impatient tone.
‘A phone call.’ Evelyn answered, nerves making her voice quake
Harriet glared, ignoring the tongue caressing her breast. ‘A phone call, what!’
‘Mistress,’ Evelyn bowed her head.
‘That’s better. Now, no more phone calls. You know what you should be doing.’ Her voice softened into a sigh as Tyler’s ministrations had an effect.
‘Yes, Mistress,’ Evelyn acknowledged.
‘Well, get that ghastly dress off. Tyler needs you to prepare him.’ Harriet smoothed the young man’s short curly black hair. Evelyn admired how his gleaming dark skin contrasted with her wife’s pale body. She reached down to pull her dress off over her head revealing the white satin corset she had been wearing all day. It cinched in her waist, tightly but not painfully and cupped her artificial D-cup breasts. Her legs were encased in white silk stockings held up by suspenders connected to her corset. She dropped the dress on the landing and stood upright waiting for her orders.
It was a few minutes before Harriet noticed her again. Tyler was working on her other nipple now and sliding a hand up and down between her legs. Harriet’s eyes focussed and then she frowned.
‘You’re still wearing knickers. Remove them at once.’ Her voice was stern. Evelyn obeyed immediately, tugging the almost insignificant garment down her thighs.
‘You know I want to see it, pathetic little thing that it is,’ Harriet went on. ‘If you won’t do as you’re told, you won’t get to have it released.’
Evelyn sighed. Harriet was always finding excuses for refusing to unlock the device that enclosed her penis. The anticipation was getting excruciating.
‘Come and see to Tyler,’ Harriet went on, ‘I’m just about ready for him.’
Evelyn climbed onto the bed and shuffled closer to the dark man.
………………
Jasmine kicked off her shoes and sank onto the sofa. She sighed with gratitude as the fatigue oozed out of her. Why was she so exhausted? Well, it was the latest she’d been up since her op and the first time she had been out for an evening. But they hadn’t had to walk far to the car and they’d only been sitting in a cinema after a light meal in a restaurant. When would she regain her old energy? She longed to get back to her daily run but that seemed out of the question at the moment.
Viv came into the lounge and looked at her sprawled over the chair.
‘Tired, love?’
‘Yes. I’m sorry Viv. I don’t know why I’m still like this.’
‘I do, you silly. It’s still less than a month since you had your surgery. I think you’re doing marvellous. This evening was lovely and you looked, you do look, stunning.’ He sat down beside her, leant over her and kissed her on the cheek.
‘Really?’
‘Really.’
Viv’s compliment reassured her because although the exhaustion had hit on the way home she had felt a new confidence while they were out. She was a woman with her boyfriend and that was all there was to say. On her first visit to a Ladies’ loo since her op she had also felt the right that her new anatomy gave her. It was silly really, since how could any of the other women there have known what she did or didn’t have between her legs?
‘Ready for bed?’ Viv asked.
‘Mmm.’
‘Do you want to join me? I can help you get to sleep.’
A fear stabbed at her. ‘I’m not ready yet, Viv. The swelling…’
Viv shook his head. ‘I wasn’t suggesting that. Just a cuddle and kiss or two. Don’t worry, love, we’ll only do it when you’re good and ready. I know now is much too soon.’
Jasmine felt reassured. ‘Well, alright then. A
cuddle sounds nice.’
………………
Evelyn sat at her desk with her dressing gown wrapped around her corseted body. Harriet and Tyler were dozing in each other’s arms but she had a few emails to write to set the scene. There were only a few minutes available and she must return to the bedside before her absence was noted. Harriet needed little excuse to add to her punishments. She tapped in Gary’s email address. It had been a while since she had contacted their old partner. This seemed a good opportunity to get a bit of a comeback on his wife’s previous lover. Evelyn grinned as she typed out the message.
6
WEDNESDAY 16th OCTOBER
MORNING
Tom Shepherd leaned against the bonnet of his Ford Mondeo and let out a long sigh. He noticed that the sky was lightening and he glanced at his watch; it was just after seven a.m. The night had passed quickly while they were getting the investigation started. Dr Winslade had completed her preliminary examination of the body and it had been taken away to the mortuary; SOCO were all over the building since the Fire Service’s Incident Commander had decided that the upper floor was safe; and uniformed officers had got initial statements from neighbours who had been woken to warn them of the fire. The onlookers had dispersed hours ago once the flames had died down and the news of the discovery of the body had spread. Now there was just one fire engine left and the road was open to traffic.
DC Patel approached carrying two disposable cups. ‘I got you a coffee, Sir. Milk and sugar.’
Tom’s eyebrows rose in surprise. ‘Thanks Sasha. Where did you get it?’
She nodded down the hill. ‘A coffee shop down Broad Street opens early for commuters using the station. I use it some days before I drive into Kintbridge.’
‘Ah, yes,’ Tom nodded, ‘Were there any other people there.’
‘There were two or three in front of me and others came in after, the owner does a good trade. The, uh, incident was the main topic of conversation.’
‘I bet it was. Did you ask any questions?’ Tom realised it was a silly question. Sasha was a good detective; of course, she would ask questions.