“Do you have to stay for any reason?” he asked.
“Not really, but I haven’t eaten for ages and so I thought I’d wait for the food. They tell me the food at these functions is to die for.”
“I don’t fancy dying tonight,” he said, looking at one or two individuals in particular. “How about if I bought you dinner at a nice little restaurant I know?”
“You are trying to get me into bed!” I said, making him grin.
“I’d never push you away should you throw yourself at me,” he said.
“The event is not likely, not in the short term, at any rate,” I said.
What in hell made me say something like that?
I should have said, ‘Not in this lifetime!’
“You do intrigue me, for there are depths to you that I’d love to fathom.”
“Okay, then use a depth gauge and not any physical probe!” I countered, again making him laugh.
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
More people seemed to be arriving and a large buffet was being laid out by a small army of chefs. Mombossu and his entourage, having failed to locate Harvey and Kristi, were closing in on the food. Charles Lumsden, still looking pale and walking delicately, went over and spoke to the African dictator. Pho approached the pair and exchanged some good humoured remarks that made everyone laugh. I felt queasy as they were obviously on very good terms. I smelled the stench of conspiracy here and wondered how deep the rot went.
I turned my back on them, before they saw me.
“Dinner in a nice restaurant sounds quite attractive,” I said to Carl, who looked surprised.
“Oh, why?”
“Why not? The company here isn’t that appropriate to eating,” I replied, putting my empty glass down.
A few moments later we were out in the muggy outside air and he was trying to get his car brought round.
I took the opportunity to disconnect the wire attached to my cleavage.
Chapter Eleven
The restaurant was in the old town. I think I must have passed it on my tour with my policeman admirer, but couldn’t remember it. Small and traditional, with a fair smattering of non-Vietnamese patrons, it had a pleasant, international atmosphere, without losing its ethnic feel.
Surprisingly, the food was excellent, as good as the expensive meal we’d had at the Emperor. Our conversation was light and I found Carl funny and well informed. He and I shared the same cynical sense of humour and I warmed to him, almost forgetting my strange neither/nor state.
Earlier in the week, I’d felt more at home as a woman in a social environment than I ever had as a man. That feeling was shattered when I discovered that I was being nurtured as a potential mule by a supposed admirer. Within an hour of being with Carl, those feelings had returned, but if anything, slightly stronger.
I couldn’t put my finger on why exactly, but I enjoyed relating to him as a woman. I found myself teasing him and even lightly flirting with him, despite the potential dangers of doing so. Once again I found myself yearning to be a genuine woman and not just a construct. My physical experiences with any other human being were severely limited to such a point that I couldn’t remember any in great detail. I think if Doctor Guya was available and willing, I’d have it complete the job without hesitation.
It was a lovely meal in good company, so I was slightly disappointed when Carl paid the bill, despite my offering to pay half.
“Don’t be a silly bint, this is my treat,” he said.
“Bint?” I challenged.
He paused while opening his wallet, looking at me.
“Sorry, force of habit.”
“What habit is that? Treating women like shit?”
“No, it’s a term of endearment in the circles I inhabit.”
“As long as you don’t expect repayment in kind,” I replied after thanking him.
“That depends on what you call kind,” he responded, smiling.
It had gone eleven when he drove me back to my Hotel, escorting me right up to my room. I almost invited him in, knowing full well that I’d be undone, in more ways than one, had I done so. He didn’t seem phased at all, simply kissing my cheek and giving my bum a slight squeeze. I found I quite liked it.
“Can I call you?” he asked.
“If you want.”
“I’d like to get to know you better.”
“I’m not sure you would, really,” I said, feeling a strange cocktail of emotions; with frustration and guilt uppermost.
“Let me be the judge of that. Goodnight sweetheart,” he said as he walked off to the elevators.
Sweetheart!
Shaking my head, I opened the door and entered my room. Mercifully, there weren’t any Australian law enforcement officers lurking in wait on this occasion. I was sure they’d be in touch eventually.
I lay awake for quite a while, going over the evening’s events in my mind. I’d finished my task, so now what? I couldn’t go back to my old life, such that it was. My flat was probably repossessed and sold on by now, with my possessions seized by a bank and sold to clear my debts. I had no family and few friends, none that would miss me, in any case.
All I had was my wits, such as they were, and my body, which was a sham. What kind of future could I expect?
I had no dreams and no ambitions, as what few I’d once had died with my old life in that grave after the firing squad. I’d always had a dream or an ambition, all my life, so it was strange to find that I seemed to have nothing to live for. Even whilst in prison, I dreamed of escaping and recovering the diamonds, then using them to assist in the overthrow of Mombossu and the restoration of the ousted government.
Once free, I’d the task of recovering the diamond upon which to focus. That having been achieved, I now had nothing, as it seems that any activity involving the diamonds was for others to perform. I lay awake for hours, trying to formulate some form of life goal. It was very hard, as I no longer knew either who or what I was. This disguise had successfully brought me this far, but it had also completely destroyed who the hell I thought I was.
As I touched myself, I was reminded that I actually liked being the person I was pretending to be. No, like was not a strong enough word, for it was as if becoming Julianna had suddenly allowed me to fulfil an unknown life’s goal. That sounded strange to me, so I don’t expect anyone else to understand it, but it was as if I had finally come home. As my hand brushed my surgically disguised crotch, I realised that I wasn’t quite there, yet!
That came as a little shock. I wasn’t aware that I was going to get a choice in how or what my life was to become, but I was already tending towards the side of remaining as Julianna. Of one thing I was becoming certain; I no longer wanted to go back to being a male.
Feeling frustrated and faintly depressed, I eventually fell asleep.
John and Trevor, obviously wanting to collect their equipment, woke me at seven in the morning. They didn’t say whether any of what I’d picked up was useful to them, but they went to great pains to try to warn me away from my latest admirer.
“Carl Bannerman wasn’t exactly truthful,” John said.
“Oh?”
“He is a geologist, of sorts, but he’s also a mercenary. He is employed by a company trying to locate oil, but his role is more on military lines than scientific. Not that long ago he was an army engineer. After he left the army, he went to university and qualified as a geologist.”
I must have looked bemused. It seems that all the men whom I attracted weren’t what they appeared.
“Don’t misunderstand, he didn’t exactly lie, but he was certainly economic with the truth. You see, they know where the oil is, but his company is trying to muscle in on the act and steal the drilling rights by any means at their disposal. There are three companies in the game; one is Chinese, one local and then the multinational that he works for. They have all the money and the outside contacts, but the Vietnamese government wants their own local company to work with the Chinese company and so keep the money under their control, relatively speaking,” Trevor said.