The Emerging

by Tanya Allan

  Anne was amazed at Kenneth’s maturity and sense of reality.

  “So, what’s the answer?”

  “Find a school at which I have no history, so I can attend as a girl. You could write a letter telling them that I’m a normal girl, and that’s it; job done.”

  “You’ll still be transitioning until you have GRS,” Anne pointed out.

  “If I was to do things your way, yes, but then I’m not going to, am I?”

  Anne laughed.

  “I think you’re in for a shock.”

  “I could say the same to you.”

  “Somehow I doubt it.”

  “Well, let’s wait until the exam results come in, shall we?” Kenneth asked, not appearing the slightest bit concerned.

  Connie was hanging about by the bus stop when Kenneth stepped off. His heart sank, but he greeted her warmly.

  “What are you waiting for me for?”

  “I needed to apologise,” Connie said.

  “For what?”

  “Avoiding you.”

  “Okay, I accept your apology.”

  “I wanted to explain.”

  “You don’t have to, as I understand completely. I freaked you out and you were trying to get your head round me and what I was capable of.”

  “You’re doing it again. Are you sure you can’t read minds as well?”

  “Nope, it’s obvious. Had it been me, I’d have been freaked out as well. I did too much too fast, so perhaps I should apologise to you.”

  Connie smiled.

  “No, that’s okay. It must be so lonely for you. I heard about your parents. I’m sorry.”

  “That’s okay, it was a long time coming, so now it’s actually happened, we can get on with our lives.”

  “You’re not close, then?”

  “I get on all right with my Dad now, but he’s never really been there while I was growing up. He’s a bit of a stranger, so it’s tough for him too. He’s finding it hard with me becoming Keira full time.”

  “He knows?” Connie asked, surprised.

  “Yeah, I had to tell him. When he was always away, it didn’t really matter, but now he’s back, I suppose it’s only fair to keep him in the picture. Actually, he’s been okay with it so far. Mind you, I’ve been at school every day, so he only sees Keira occasionally in the evenings. He seems to spend most of his time with his girlfriend,” Kenneth said, grinning. “Like you, I think I freak him out.”

  Connie shook her head.

  “You seem to have a complicated life. Does he know you’re from somewhere else?”

  “God no! I couldn’t do that to him, as he’s psychologically fragile enough after my mother left him for another woman. No, you’re the only one who knows and I’m keeping it that way.”

  “You know you said you’d help me lose weight and stuff?” Connie asked.

  “Yeah; I thought you’d chickened out. Are you still up for it?”

  “If you are.”

  “Great, come on in; I’ve been a boy long enough today.”

  Thirteen

  Graham was working in his study when he saw Kenneth and the girl walk down the drive. This was the first time he’d seen Kenneth with anyone his own age. He was feeling a little less unsettled about things now, as they’d fallen into a routine that gave the illusion of stability if not actual stability. Kenneth always came home from school, went to his room and then came down as Keira. She’d do her revision or whatever in the dining room and then she’d help him make an evening meal. Graham found that she was a better cook than Linda had been, so she took on that role more and more.

  To start with, he found it disconcerting, bordering on the surreal having a beautiful daughter instead of a son. He tried to ascertain some hint as to how this impossibility had happened, but the girl just smiled and told him that he wouldn’t understand.

  He wanted to understand, so she told him that one day she would explain, but it was vitally important that he never told anyone, at least until she made the change permanent. She hinted that that time was not in the far future. For that he was grateful, as he didn’t know if he could cope with having Kenneth and Keira around.

  It was definitely like having two children. The strange thing was, he actually liked Keira better. He wasn’t sure why that was, but suspected it was because she was more at peace than Kenneth. Indeed, it dawned on him that he actually thought of them as two distinct and separate individuals, and while he did so, he was able to deal with them far better. If he consciously thought of them as one person, his mind objected.

  He went out to the kitchen as they came in. He remembered seeing this girl before, but couldn’t remember her name.

  “Hi Dad.”

  “Kenneth; how did you get on with the doctor?”

  “Okay, I have to go back next week. I think I’ll make that the last one.”

  Graham frowned, as he’d been doing research on the internet.

  “I thought it takes longer than that?”

  “This is me, remember?”

  Graham nodded, and then looked at the girl.

  She was a nice-looking girl, but perhaps was a little overweight to be classed as pretty. He then cursed himself for stereotyping and categorising as per the cultural imprinting.

  “Dad, you remember Connie, don’t you?”

  “Yes, of course,” he lied. “How are you Connie?”

  “Fine thanks, Mr Frost. I’m sorry about, um, well, you know, er, everything.”

  “Yes, well, shit happens, Connie.”

  There was a pregnant silence that was broken by Kenneth.

  “I’m going to change; can you give Connie a coffee, or something, Dad?”

  “Yes, I was going to put the kettle on anyway. Tea or coffee, Connie?”

  Kenneth left them to it, and went up to his room. Fifteen minutes later, Keira appeared in a skirt and short sleeved top.

  “That’s better, my God, I hate being a boy!”

  Graham felt uncomfortable, so glanced at Connie to gauge her reaction. To his surprise, there wasn’t one.

  “That top looks nice; was that one we got the other day?” Connie asked.

  “Yes, it’s okay, but it shows every mark. I have to be careful not to dribble when eating or drinking.”

  Graham shook his head. Was he the only one to find this situation too weird for words?

  “Connie, I’m sorry to ask you this, but don’t you find this a little odd?”

  “What’s odd, Mr Frost?”

  “Um, well, Connie, Kenneth is now Keira. Some would say that it’s impossible, and yet you don’t seem bothered by it; why is that?”

  Connie looked at her friend, who was now refilling the kettle.

  “That’s because I understand, Mr Frost.”

  “You understand?”

  Connie nodded.

  “Yes.”

  “What do you understand?”

  “Why she couldn’t be a girl before this. She was growing up and needed the protection of anonymity to develop into who she is now becoming.”

  Graham blinked a few times as he processed the information. He looked at his daughter.

  “What am I missing here?”

  “Everything, Dad,” she said, with her eyes laughing at him.

  He regarded Connie who was finishing her coffee; as Keira sat down to start hers.

  “Connie, who exactly is Keira?”

  Connie looked to Keira for help. Keira just smiled.

  “She’s your daughter who used to be your son.”

  “That’s it?”

  “As far as I know, yes.”

  “Why aren’t you bothered by her ability to change from one to the other?”

  Connie shrugged.

  “I used to be, but understand why.”

  “We’re going round in circles, aren’t we?”

  Connie shrugged again.

  “I think we might be.”

  “Look, Dad, just trust me when I tell you that I will explain things when you
’re ready, okay?”

  “Will you; just when will that be?”

  “That’s up to you, but I don’t think it’ll be that long.”

  “Okay, I give up. Just tell me how long this switching back and forth is going to go on for?”

  “There’s no reason that it shouldn’t stop today. The school is finished, so I’m not going back there, only they don’t know it yet. I’m to see Anne next week, so I can go like this, which will probably blow her mind, but at least I get my chocolates.”

  “What?”

  “Nothing, Dad; it’s a private joke. Have you done anything about schools yet?”

  “Keira, give me a chance. Your mother is divorcing me, so we’ve solicitor’s letters flashing about and all the dirt is coming out about what a terrible father I’ve been, and how career-minded she’s been and how unfaithful we’ve both been. The last letter seemed to imply that they are going to take everything that’s in both our names, split it straight down the middle and put a quarter aside for you and split the rest down the middle for each of us.”

  “Yes, that’s what seemed to be fair,” Keira said.

  Graham frowned.

  “What?”

  “Well, I wrote to both sets of solicitors, giving dates and times when you’d both been flying here there and everywhere. I noted when the affair started with Stephanie, and when Mum started sleeping with Yvonne. I think I’ve sort of destroyed both of your defences, which leaves them with no option but to see me as the real victim and make you two share everything else equally. It’s just such a pity that the solicitors are the only winners in all this tragedy.”

  Graham was, once again left speechless by his daughter.

  “Are you sure you’re my child?” he asked.

  Connie spluttered the dregs of coffee across the worktop, apologised and caught the cloth that Keira threw at her.

  “The truth is in the genes, Dad,” she said, laughing at him again.

  Anne went to the cupboard and fetched another box of tissues. Her last client had used half a box, and his father seemed to use the other half.

  She spent a minute gathering her thoughts and then completed the notes for Roddy Myers.

  The poor lad was desperately confused over so much, but it was compounded by his father, who probably needed as much counselling as his son. She’d referred Richard to a counsellor for the parents, families and partners of people who were dealing with emerging sexually related problems, in particular homosexuality and gender dysphoria. She felt it would be impossible for her to deal with Roddy and his father.

  Often, all they all needed was to talk over how they were feeling and to have someone tell them that it was fine to feel that way. Guilt brought about by social and family expectations had a lot to answer for.

  Her secretary brought in a strong black coffee.

  “I think your next patient is here,” she announced, somewhat uncertainly.

  “Think?”

  “Well, I thought it was young Kenneth Frost.”

  “Yes, it should be.”

  “Okay, well, you might be surprised,” was all she said before leaving.

  Anne shook her head and went back to the file she was completing. They were making progress, but it was slow going. The guilt and strong desire to meet his father’s exacting expectations was proving a tough nut to crack.

  She glanced at the clock and sighed. She never had enough time.

  She finished the notes and placed the file in the drawer, pulling out Kenneth’s file. She opened it and smiled as she saw the plain piece of paper with the rather smudged fingerprint that lay on the top.

  She liked Kenneth, as he was so unlike any of her other patients. His optimistic and unquenchable certainty as to how things would happen was entertaining, or would be if they weren’t quite so impossible. She knew she had her work cut out to get him to see the gritty reality of his situation.

  She pressed the buzzer and asked him to come in.

  Keira walked into the Doctor’s room wearing the largest smile and a very pretty summer dress. The dress hid very little. What it managed to hide successfully alluded to by shape and form. There was absolutely no way that this person was male.

  Anne regarded her for a moment.

  “I’m sorry, has there been a mix-up?” she asked, frowning.

  The girl didn’t stop, but walked up to the chair by the desk and sat down, crossing her long and very shapely legs. She pulled the hem of her skirt down as it rose up a bit when she sat down.

  “I’m here for my chocolates, Doctor,” she said.

  Anne smiled a weary smile.

  “Ah, very funny. Oh, Kenneth is a wag, and you are remarkably alike, but I don’t think so,” she said, entering into the joke with good humour.

  Instead of laughing or admitting being part of an attempted gag, the girl simply held out her right index finger.

  Anne stared at it stupidly for a moment.

  Keira sighed and reached over, lifted the felt pen off the desk and painted her finger carefully.

  “May I?” she asked, mimicking what Kenneth had said when he had first taken that same piece of paper.

  She rolled her finger on the paper, looked at the result, smiled and handed it back to the bemused doctor after signing it in her presence.

  “You check that while I go wash my finger, okay?”

  The girl got up and left the room, leaving the door open. Anne sat there, slightly stunned, but watched the girl cross the corridor and go into the ladies room. Sylvia popped her head round the door.

  “You okay?” she asked.

  “Who the hell is that?” she asked her secretary.

  “She said she used to be Kenneth Frost, only she told me she’s now Keira Frost.”

  “This has gone too far!” Anne said, getting cross. However, she looked at the piece of paper in annoyance. How dare this girl waste her time like this?

  She looked at the paper a little more closely. Then, she opened her top drawer of her desk and took out her magnifying glass. Sylvia watched from the doorway. The frown of annoyance gave way to an expression of wonder and shock.

  “What?” she asked.

  “Come here and compare these two, will you?”

  Sylvia walked over and looked at the two fingerprints under the magnifying glass.

  “Okay, they’re the same, what of it?”

  She pointed to the one with Kenneth’s signature.

  “Kenneth did that one and signed it in my presence a few weeks ago. It has been sitting in my drawer ever since, locked away.”

  “So?”

  “That girl has just done this one in my presence too.”

  The two women looked at each other and then at the fingerprints.

  “You can’t have two people with the same fingerprint, can you?” asked Sylvia, whose husband was a police inspector.

  “No.”

  “So, that means that the girl is the same person as Kenneth Frost?” she asked, very uncertainly.

  They both looked up as Keira returned. The girl closed the door and walked over to the same chair and sat down, saying nothing.

  Anne looked at Sylvia, who shrugged and left the room quickly, closing the door behind her.

  Anne tried to get her thoughts in order; and failed.

  “Sorry, doctor, but I cheated a bit,” Keira said. Anne was amazed, for as much as the voice was Kenneth’s. It wasn’t. It was a girl’s voice; not a little girl’s voice, or a boy’s voice being forced to sound like a girl, but warm and rich, quite a sexy voice.

  “How so?” Anne managed to ask.

  “I knew I could do it before I came to see you.”

  Anne nodded but without knowing why.

  “You are Kenneth?” she asked.

  “No, I’m Keira; Kenneth was my old name; the name that belonged to the male me.”

  “What I’m trying to ask is - how?”

  “Ah, there’s a thing; to be honest, I haven’t a clue. I just changed.”

>   Anne played for time to gather whatever wits were left. She flicked through Kenneth’s file, hoping for some revelation that might help her in a situation she never imagined she would find herself.

  There, on the first page; the notes of her first examination after the assault.

  “Keira?”

  “Yes.”

  “Tell me about the first time we met.”

  Keira smiled gently, knowing that the doctor was hoping to be able to establish the truth of her identity.

  “You came to the school, and we met in the sick bay with Nurse Verity. We talked about the attack and how I was feeling. You examined me, specifically my head, for any lasting injury or potentially worrying signs.”

  “Did I examine anything else?”

  “Yes, you checked my heart and lungs, and had a quick look at my torso, as I fell badly and bruised my ribs at the back.”

  “Would you mind if I examined you now?”

  “I expected it,” she said, standing up, and unzipping her dress in a practiced movement.

  Anne was a little shocked, as the girl before her had a full and very definite female figure. Her breasts were held in place by a delightful pink bra, and she wore matching pants.

  “Now, before we do this, is there anything I remarked upon about your back?”

  “Just that I have a large mole in the small of my back, which I keep catching with my fingernails when I tuck my shirts in. You told me it would be easy to remove.”

  Keira turned round and there, in exactly the same position, was a large mole with obvious signs of old scarring from inadvertent nail strikes.

  Anne saw it and sat down again.

  “Put your dress back on; I’m convinced. I don’t understand how, but I’m convinced.”

  Smiling broadly, Keira slipped her dress back on, and zipped it up. She then sat down again, crossing those legs. Anne looked closely at her face.

  It was Kenneth’s face, but softer and definitely more feminine. The rather prominent nose and Adam’s Apple were gone, as was the slightly sharp chin and long forehead. This was a very pretty girl, wearing a modicum of makeup, sensibly applied.

  “Who did your makeup?”

  “Me.”