My first task was to drive Carlene to her flat to collect her stuff. She kept glancing at me, forcing me to laugh at her reaction.
“Don’t keep staring, I’m not an ogre, you know,” I said, as I pulled up outside her block of flats in Windsor.
“I’m not sure what you are. This is quite fascinating. I have to say, although it wasn’t an option I’d considered, I can now see it clearer.”
“You mean I behave like a bloke who now happens to be a girl?”
“No, I didn’t mean that. You are entirely convincing, but the rough edges of what you used to be do show through.”
I laughed as we left the car and went up to her flat. It was a very nice flat, two bedrooms overlooking some parkland, so it can’t have been cheap, but in keeping with a young professional.
“No man?” I asked, as I looked round the very tidy flat.
She reddened slightly. “Not at the moment.”
I smiled. “I’m sorry, I’ve always been direct. I didn’t mean to be quite so obnoxious.”
She smiled, shaking her hair and sending me a confusing message.
“You’re not obnoxious, it’s just that I’m just not used to other people being quite so personally direct. I’m between relationships, what more can I say? The last one ended painfully.”
“I’m crap at relationships as well. I got so involved with my work. I must have been a lousy husband and father.”
She smiled, shaking her head. “You have no idea how odd it is to hear such a beautiful girl say such things.”
I walked over to the sideboard and looked at a set of photographs featuring Carlene with a stocky girl with short hair.
It was then I realised why she was slightly embarrassed.
“That’s Gail, and yes, she and I were an item for two years,” she said from behind me. She’d come up and was looking round my shoulder.
“I’m sorry. It’s none of my business. I didn’t mean to pry.”
“That’s okay. I guess if we are going to be together for a week, you ought to know I’m bisexual. I’ve had boyfriends as well, but I find men have a tendency to treat me badly.”
I nodded, aware of my own shortcomings in that department.
“Don’t mind me, I’m sort of playing my cards as they turn over,” I said, which made her laugh. She opened a cupboard and removed a small case, taking it into the bedroom.
“Let me pack my clothes. Have you been to Paris before?” she asked through the open door.
“Several times. Once or twice for pleasure and many times for work,” I said as I followed her into the bedroom.
The case was open on the large double bed as she emptied some clothes from the wardrobe and chest of drawers. It was a pleasant airy room, decorated in a feminine style, in reds and browns, but not overtly frilly. I glanced at the bed and wondered what it would be like to make love to a woman, as a woman.
She caught my glance and must have guessed my thought process, for she reddened.
“Can we agree on something?” she asked.
“Sure.”
“Look, I’m a doctor, so this has to stay as a patient-doctor relationship. I don’t want to add complications to either of our lives by anything else. Okay?”
I smiled. “Fine by me. As I said, I’m playing my cards as they turn over. I’m still discovering who and what the hell I am, so, message received and understood.”
She smiled as well, appearing to relax.
“Thanks. I’m still feeling vulnerable after Gail, and would easily fall into another bad relationship if I were not careful. I don’t want that relationship to be you.”
“Are you saying I’m bad?” I teased.
“No, but taking your profession and past history into account, I honestly can’t see our futures linked. Can you?”
“I don’t know. I tend not to look very much further than the day I’m in.”
“I can understand that, but for us to get involved may jeopardise your future.”
“How?”
“At your stage, I’d guess you haven’t decided whether to be hetero, homo or bi. I don’t want to influence you during such a vulnerable time.”
“Most commendable, but aren’t you forgetting something?”
“What?”
“I may look twenty, but I’m almost old enough to be your father, or mother, or whatever. I’ve earned the right to make my own decisions, don’t you think?”
“I agree, but I still think that it’s early days, and you need time and space to make those decisions without bringing too much emotion into them.”
“This is bullshit, Carlene, but I’ll go along with you as far as I can. If things happen, with you or anyone else, I’m going to act on my instincts, and stuff the sensitivities of the newness of my situation.”
She stared at me with a small smile on her face. She shook her head slightly.
“I thought you might. Maybe I’m asking for my sake and not yours.”
“Maybe. Look, I’m not after any relationship with anyone. I had a thought, so just let me find my own way of dealing with stuff, okay?”
She nodded and went into the bathroom. Finally, she returned with enough toiletries to fill another suitcase.
“This girl business is going to take some getting used to,” I said.
As it happened, nothing did happen. Not with Carlene anyway.
Paris was wonderful. The hotel was delightfully decadent and we had a ball. Carlene took me shopping. I mean, proper shopping, where we wandered the shops for hours, trying on hideously expensive clothes and jewellery, but wandering off without buying them. I still managed to spend nearly a thousand pounds of UK taxpayers’ money on clothes and beauty products. It also took my mind off the fact that an empty coffin was being buried with a military escort and my ex-wife and son were probably suffering a plethora of confused emotions on my account.
It was on the third evening when we picked up the Americans. I initially thought they were CIA, but then discounted this by the way they behaved when we accosted them.
We were in the bar of the hotel, enjoying a drink after a super meal. My legs were tired from all the walking in heels, carrying heavy shopping bags. Carlene was telling me about various disastrous relationships she’d had, including the last one with Gail.
“My problem is that I think too deeply into a relationship,” she told me.
“My problem was I never really thought about anyone else at all.”
“Do you want to see you son again?”
“Of course, but I can hardly waltz up to him and say that I’m really his father in disguise. No, I’m resigned to the fact that I will be limited to watching his progress from a distance.”
It was at this point that these two men came into the bar. They’d been around the hotel since we’d arrived, but apart from smile and look our way, they’d made no direct contact. I’d overheard them talking so knew they were American.
They were in their late twenties, well dressed in smart suits, looking every inch the way successful executives should look. The taller of the two was fair-haired and built like a brick out-house. I guessed he played football at college. The other was smaller, but still quite stocky. Both were clean-cut and oozing self-confidence.
Sitting at the bar, only a few feet away from us, they ordered beers and glanced in our direction. The taller one said something to his colleague, who smiled and glanced at Carlene.
Oh, I thought, they’re already trying to pair us off. Well, never one to allow another to take the initiative, I stood up and walked over to them.
“Hi, I’m Rebecca, would you gentlemen care to join us?”
I think this shocked them, for they both seemed surprisingly embarrassed all of a sudden.
“Um, sure, that’s yeah, we would,” said the taller man, whose name, I discovered, was Wayne. Carlton, the other man, was less of a conversationalist than his larger companion.