It took me a couple of hours, and I spent a silly amount of money on my credit card. I even had my ears pierced. The hair-cut and makeover were nice, if a little wearing for someone like me. They just took so damn long, and I’m not the most patient of women. I did them near the end, as it was lovely just to sit down and relax.
I had not really appreciated how many different clothes were available for women, or the price! My occasional forays to charity shops cost about £10 a time, the white skirt and top cost nearly $300! And then I had to get various tops, stockings and shoes, etc. It was rather traumatic; I can tell you.
I returned shortly before eight, still wearing the white suit with a nice little navy top. As I walked back to the Flying Fish, strange men kept coming up to me and asking me if I wanted a drink, or a meal, or just to say hi. It was all rather disconcerting, as I was not used to high heels. I discovered if I walked slowly, there was less likelihood of falling arse over tit!
I walked into the bar and stopped by the door. Mickey’s reaction was worth the whole effort. But when Ed turned round, his mind catapulted us both into bed!
Poor old Ed, this whole marriage business was a bit deep for him, he hadn’t even thought of a best man. He thought about Mickey, and I was able to press a negative into his subconscious. I liked Mickey, but he and my mother would not be the ideal in any wedding party.
The others all drifted in, and I was amused at the general reaction to my appearance. I actually found that I loved the way I looked and felt, but there would have been no way that I would have done so before the trip.
We had a very pleasant meal with the whole team, which was to be our last dinner together, as the others were returning to London in the morning. As I looked round the table, I realised that we had all become good friends, and I even heard Ed ask Craig to take the photos at our wedding.
One by one, they drifted off to bed, and I found myself on the deck in the arms of the man I loved. It was a lovely night, so we sat with our legs dangling over the edge, just content to be together. He slipped this lovely little ring onto my left ring finger, so I hugged him. It was a beautiful ring, so I burst into tears. His thoughts were a mess of things to do, and I smiled. He was getting into organisation mood, which was something at which he excelled.
I, on the other hand, for the first time in my life, was completely unconcerned about my future. I had already written my letter of resignation to the University, so would hand it in when we got to Edinburgh. I was already out of any commitments for the next year, so they weren’t paying me in any case. So it was a mere formality.
I would have to sell my flat, or perhaps put it up for rent. There would always be people around the University needing good accommodation. But I would have to clear out my room in the University. Oh, I would probably have to sell my bike, but I planned to buy another one when we had settled down.
‘What kind of bike?’
‘That was sneaky. I didn’t know you were peeking.’
‘I’m sorry, but I just picked up the bike bit.’
‘It’s a Kawasaki 900.’ I told him, and he grinned.
‘I might have known. Yeah, I can see you on something like that.’
‘So what do you drive?’
He stood up, held his hand out and helped me to my feet. We walked off the deck and into the parking lot. There was the most perfect twenty-five year old, black Ford Mustang convertible, almost straight out of “Bullitt”. I half expected Steve McQueen to step out of it. It was in mint condition, and was gleaming under the lights.
He unlocked it and started it up. The deep and powerful roar of the engine made me grin.
“I can see that we have yet one more thing in common,” he said, so I kissed him.
We went to our room and lay naked together in the warm air. We had the window open, so a gentle breeze played across our bodies. We made slow and superb love. I just loved to feel him next to me. We even held hands as we drifted off to sleep.
I awoke with a familiar feeling in my tummy, so swore silently. I had a very unwelcome and pain of a visitor. I went to the bathroom, when it dawned on me that I was not pregnant. I smiled, for at least my mother would be pleased, and I wouldn’t have to explain away the short pregnancy.
I returned to the bed, and Ed woke up.
‘Are you okay, hon?’ he asked. ‘I woke up with a belly ache, and I sensed it was yours.’
I laughed, as he was the first male to experience a period, even if it was second hand, so to speak.
“It’s only the curse,” I told him, so he gave me a cuddle.
“I remember them. I have to admit, I don’t miss them.”
“May I?” I asked.
He nodded and smiled.
He permitted my mind to merge with his. He had no blocks in place, so I managed to simply follow threads and travel at will. I gasped in surprise, for my husband to be had spent over sixty years as a woman in the early nineteenth century. He had done similar for a shorter period back in the second century. I sensed there were blocks in his mind that weren’t of his making. However, I soon learned all I could, and came out again. I saw it all; the Time Corps, the work he undertook, the risks he faced and the remuneration. We had never mentioned money, so it came as a complete shock to find he had millions of dollars in the bank.
I had wrongly assumed that he was a man of sufficient means, for whom money meant little and the acquisition of wealth meant even less.
‘You’re right, it means nothing. What is important is health and those you love. Without them money or the lack of it is meaningless,’ he thought to me.
“Did you ever follow up on Lady Jane?” I asked, out loud.
“Sure, she was quite a figure in her day. The historians got some of the facts wrong, but I get a kick out of reading about her.”
“How about Layla?”
“I never let her fall as hard, so I was more focussed on the job at hand. It was still tough.”
“Did you regret coming back from either of them?”
“From Roman times, not really; it was a barbaric time to be a woman, even an empowered one such as I managed to be. But from being Jane, sure, I regretting coming back at first. But you have to realise that I had a full life and had a ball. After Roger died, the whole point seemed to be gone, particularly as I was getting old.”
“This is so weird.”
“It’s old news, honey, so don’t worry about it,” he said, dropping off to sleep again.
I lay awake and thought about everything that had happened. It had all happened so fast, I had not really had a chance to take stock. I was strangely disappointed that I wasn’t pregnant. But I realised that it was on an emotional level. Practically, I was pleased, as being pregnant right now was hardly convenient, nor was I really ready.
As I lay next to a snoring Marine, I thought about the part of me that was now gone. For all my life, I had always had that drive to be different. It was an ever-pervasive part of my life, so hardly a day went past without me earnestly desiring to be something other than what I was.
But as I lay here, feeling content to be a complete woman, for the first time in my life, I did not miss the missing element to what I considered to be the real me. In a way, I was envious of Ed, for he had had an opportunity to be the woman inside for a complete lifetime. I had often wondered what it would have been like to be a man for a while. I would still be interested, but there wasn’t the same burning desire deep within my soul.
I was now the person I wanted to be, so as I gazed at the slumbering man, I hoped that he felt the same way. It was a horrible feeling to be so discontented with your lot that you would consider expensive surgery and courses of treatment, social leprosy and family schism. I had researched transsexuality, and found that it was far more widespread than anyone thought.