The legal stuff.

This work is the property of the author, and the author retains full copyright, in relation to printed material, whether on paper or electronically. Any adaptation of the whole or part of the material for broadcast by radio, TV, or for stage plays or film, is the right of the author unless negotiated through legal contract. Permission is granted for it to be copied and read by individuals, and for no other purpose. Any commercial use by anyone other than the author is strictly prohibited, and may only be posted to free sites with the express permission of the author. If you enjoyed it, then please Email me and tell me. If you hated it, Email me and lie.

I will always welcome contact.

tanya_jaya@yahoo.co.uk

 

 

 

 

Every Little Girls Dream

Book One

This work is fictitious, and any similarities to any persons, alive or dead, are purely coincidental.

I have based the tragic incident in the first chapter on a real event, and I salute those public servants and volunteers who worked so hard to manage the event, from every angle. My heart goes out to those directly and indirectly involved in the whole horrible affair, and I hope that I can, in some small way, pay homage to those who sought to bring relief and help.

I dedicate this work to the police officers, fire fighters, paramedics, doctors and nurses and all the other professionals and volunteers who give of themselves on a daily basis for the sake of others.

Mention is made of persons in public life only for the purposes of realism and for that reason alone. Certain licence is taken in respect of medical procedures, terms and conditions, and the author does not claim to be the fount of all knowledge.

The author accepts the right of the individual to hold his/her (or whatever) own political, religious and social views, and there is no intention to deliberately offend anyone. If you wish to take offence, that is your problem.

This is only a story, and it contains adult material, which includes sex and intimate descriptive details pertaining to genitalia. If this is likely to offend, then don't read it.

 

Synopsis.

Tom Stewart is a rough, tough, seasoned, twenty-nine year veteran Police Inspector. Used to command, he is a popular, dedicated family man, on the eve of his half-century and facing the end of his career. He has lived with a secret for most of his life, successfully managing it. With retirement, he stands to lose the major factor in that success and he is very uncertain about how he will control the hidden urges.

Jenny Adams, a sixteen year-old schoolgirl, has her whole life ahead of her. She is bright, sensitive and pretty, she has everything going for her. She is returning from a day's shopping with her mother on a train.

The train is derailed in tragic circumstances. Jenny's mother is killed while Jenny sustains serious head injuries and is in a coma.

Inspector Stewart is aware of the incident, but not directly involved. Time, however, is perhaps up for Tom, as he is rushed to the same hospital in which Jenny lies on the brink of death.

One of them survives, but which one?

Join me in a voyage of true discovery.


Chapter Eleven.

 

Chance Encounter.

The final week of term shot past. My meeting with Bruce on Monday was interesting, only to the extent that I decided that he couldn't or wouldn't help me and so I wasn't interested in sharing with him any more.

I think he realised this, so we came to an agreement that he would see me at some time in the New Year, or at any time I wished to make an appointment.

“I have to be honest, Jenny. I feel we have probably gone as far as we can. Unless you get back any flashes of memory, then we'll leave it like this. You know you can call me any time, if you need a chat or are distressed.”

I left his room, feeling relief. I was early, so on the off-chance, I took a trip to my old ward.

It had been over a month since I left and I was interested to see if Steve was still there.

He was.

I found Hannah at the nurses' station.

“Hi Hannah, remember me?”

“Jenny, wow, look at you! You look great, girl!”

I smiled. I was in jeans, a heavy sweater and a canary yellow ski jacket. I had found an old woolly hat of Mum's with a matching scarf that was about nine foot long. It was really cold, so I wasn't taking any chances.

“Seriously, you are looking brilliant, how are you?” she asked.

“Great. A few memories have come back, but it's a slow process. I've been signed off by the shrink, so I thought I'd drop in on Fragile-boy,” I said.

She laughed.

“You've been to see The Incredibles, haven't you?”

I nodded.

“It's good to see you. We like our successes to come back now and again.”

I walked down the ward and found Steve in the same bed. I was surprised to see him partially dressed watching TV.

“Hey, Jenny, good to see you!”

“Hi Steve, how're you doing?”

He grinned and tried to shrug, despite all the plastered limbs.

“Bored out of my fucking brain, doll, how about you? You look great!”

I sat next to his bed.

“I'm fine. Got some memory back; not much, but at least I remember my Mum and a bit of the crash.”

“Got a boyfriend yet?”

I smiled and nodded.

“Sorry, but yes, and he doesn't ride a bike.”

He grinned at me, squirming on the bed.

“Are you okay?” I asked, worried that he was having a fit.

“My bloody legs itch, always down the plasters so I can't reach them.”

Using a borrowed knitting needle, I scratched his legs for a while as he lay back with a blissful smile on his face.

“So, still going to keep on with motorbikes?”

“I suppose so. But having to be fed and have someone wipe my bloody arse all the time is beginning to put me off.”

“Have you had many visitors?”

“Not really. My mum's been in a few times and that's about it.”

“Is there anything you need? I don't come into Reading that often, but I can get you something if you really want it.”

“No, but thanks for offering though.”

“I'd better go, as my Dad's picking me up soon. Take care.”

I left him and walked towards the exit.

At that moment, Annie walked into the ward. I received an overwhelming urge to run over and hug her. I had to curb it.

“Hey, look who it is. How are you?” she asked, with a genuine smile of warmth.

“Fine. How are you? I read about your Dad. I'm so sorry,” I said.

“Thanks. I'm okay. Mum is still taking it hard, but we'll manage. It was a real shock, as he was one of the indestructible ones. Yet, after all, he wasn't!”

“He was in the ER at the same time as me, wasn't he?”

“Yes, only you came out. He even talked about you with me the evening before. I told him about you and what a waste it all was. He was a nice guy, Jenny, you'd have liked him. He was one of life's good guys!”

“It's funny, I almost feel we know each other. Thanks for looking after me,” I said.

“You remembered?”

“No. They told me, and well, I got a sense of your father when I was away with the fairies.” I stopped, feeling I was on dangerous ground.

“Really? I've heard about near death experiences, did you have one of them?”

I nodded.

“I think so. Bright lights and all that. Yes, I think I did.”

“Look, I'm due a break, have you time for a chat? I'll buy you a tea or something.”

I looked at my watch. Dad wasn't picking me up for another twenty minutes.

“Okay. I need to be at the front door by eleven.”

She took me to the canteen and we sat at a table to drink our teas.

“What was it like?” she asked.

“What, being unconscious?”

“You know, that bit when you were near death?”

I sipped my tea and tried to decide how much to tell her. I'd seen with Tim how much belief could be stretched, so I didn't want to frighten her off, nor make myself out to be doolally.

“I remember the moments before the crash. My mum was sitting opposite me on the train. She had her back to the engine. The carriage stopped dead and buckled. I was flung one way and she another. I was crushed and I felt sharp pain. Then, the pain went. I was floating, with no pain and feeling wonderful. Mummy was there too and we held hands. I couldn't leave, though. I was still attached to my body by a sort of invisible thread.

“They moved my body to hospital and still I was attached by the sort of chord thingy. Your dad came in and he was there as well. He wasn't attached to anything, and it wasn't as though I could see him, like I'm seeing you, I just sensed he was there, knowing that he was another person. I didn't actually feel I was myself, it was like watching a movie, or being in a story or something. I'm sorry, I'm not making much sense.”

“Don't worry, go on.”

“Well, there was this bright light. The light was so inviting. It was warm and promised everything nice. It's hard to explain. This is the confusing bit,” I said, pausing for a drink.

“Your Dad was there and somehow we sort of communicated. I had a flash of a woman called Kathleen, you, a boy, and Maria. His memories sort of mixed up and then we were separated. He was a nice man and I'd like to think he gave something of himself to me before we parted. The next think I remember was waking up and having no recollection of anything before the crash.”

“How do you remember this bit then?”

“I had a dream. I often do, these days. Sometimes they mean something and sometimes they don't. It's hard. The shrink says I suffered major trauma and I may never get my full memory back.”

“It must be awful for you. Have you some things back?”

I nodded. “Can I ask you something about your Dad?”

“What?”

“Well, this is going to sound weird, so please don't feel I'm potty or anything, but, did your Dad ever play the drums?”

“Why?”

“Well, before the accident I used to play the clarinet. Now I can't. It's like I never did, but I sat down at a set of drums and found that once I sorted out my hands and feet, I could play quite well. I had a theory that your Dad gave me stuff to fill the gaps that I'd lost forever.”

She was very quiet and she put her cup down.

“Dad belonged to a rock band back in the seventies. He was the drummer.”

“Shit!” I said and she smiled.

“Anything else?”

“Um, was he a good cook?”

“Dad loved cooking. He found it a great way to relax. He adored food and he loved creating new dishes, his favourite food was…”

“Thai. I think I knew that!”

Annie looked at me sharply.

“What else?” she asked.

“A dog, a golden lab?”

She nodded.

“We had two for a while, a yellow and black lab. We've just got the golden one left now.”

“Do you have a green sponge in the shape of a spider on the side of your bath?”

“I don't but… How did you know about that? Mum gave one like that to Dad last Christmas as a joke. He always moans about having to get spiders out of the bath for her.”

“He also likes Douglas Reeman's books, his favourite colour is blue, and he adored the film Shrek. He likes malt whisky occasionally, and his favourite tipple is a long cold gin and tonic with loads of ice and lemon,” I said and her eyes opened wide in surprise.

“You said likes, don't you mean liked?”

“Annie, I don't know how, or why, but I think some of your Dad is still here, in me!”

I fell silent then, unsure whether I'd gone too far.

A tear welled up in her eye and she brushed it away.

“I want you to come and meet my mother,” she said.

“Oh shit, I don't know…”

“Jenny, you don't need to tell her any of this. I'd like you to meet her and, well, it might help both of you, a bit. I don't know whether I believe you, and I think it is because I don't know if I understand. I actually would like to feel he is still here and still able to see us. My Dad meant everything to me, very much like your Mum did to you. I miss him dreadfully and, well, I get an uneasy feeling around you, it is as if, I know you and I'm not sure why. I think I'd like you to come to our home, his home, just to get to know where he lived and the people he lived with.”

“When?”

“Do you have a mobile number?”

I gave it to her.

“I'll ring you. You're still at school, aren't you?”

I nodded.

“Okay, sometime in the holidays, around Christmas. This is going to be a rough time for us, without Dad. I suppose it will be the same for you. It would be nice if your Dad and my Mum meet. Both grieving, they could help each other.”

“Dad starts flying again soon, short haul only.”

“He's a pilot?”

“He's a BA Captain.”

“Cool, any cheap flights on the go?”

I smiled and she laughed. “Only teasing. This is very weird, you know, Jenny?”

“Tell me about it! I've tried really hard to get used to things, and yet, not remembering anything is tough. Those memories I do have aren't all mine, so somehow I've either imagined them or acquired them from someone else. Your Dad was the only other person there.” I paused, unsure if I could mention the unmentionable. She must have sensed my unease.

“What is it Jenny?”

“I'm not sure if I should,” I said, honestly.

“Go on, please?”

“Well, this really is tough, because I can't ever know whether I am right or not. While I was floating and your Dad was there, there was something about your Dad that was different, somehow.”

“Like?”

“Shit, you'll hate me, but, well, it was like he wasn't just a man.”

“How do you mean?”

“It was like something about him was female too.”

She went very still.

“Oh shit, I'm sorry, I'm probably way off…”

She held her hand up.

“Exactly what do you mean?”

“Look, I'm confused, I don't….”

“No, I need to know what you mean.”

“I'm not sure, honestly. It was just he seemed to be both a man and a woman at the same time. Daft, but that's what it seemed to me.”

Annie was quiet, looking at me quite intently.

“Jenny, you're right. Dad had a secret. Only, even I don't know exactly what it was. He was evasive when on the computer. I thought perhaps he was after porn and, at one point, I was worried it might even be kiddie porn. I know now that it wasn't, because I went onto the computer after he died. I found the files and saw a couple of the websites he used to go and check out. Tell me exactly what you felt, please Jenny, this is important!”

I took a deep breath.

“I think he always wanted to be a girl and when I died, this was his opportunity. I think he and I are somehow joined as this new person, and that the reason that I don't remember very much is so I get to start over afresh, without complicated memories getting in the way.”

There, I'd said it.

She said nothing, but nodded slowly.

I looked at my watch.

“Shit! Dad'll be here. I have to go Annie, sorry.”

She reached out and took my hand. Tears were in her eyes.

“The first time you saw me today, what did you want to do?” she asked.

“I, I wanted to run and hug you, why?”

“Weird, isn't it. Goodbye Jenny, I'll call you soon, okay?”

“Okay. Thanks for the tea.”

“It was worth it. If you're right, it could be well worth it!”

“And if I'm wrong?” I asked, standing up. She stood up and let go of my hand.

“I doubt you are. I need to think and look at that computer again. Bye!” she said, turning and walking rapidly away.

Dad was waiting for me when I arrived at the main entrance.

“Sorry Dad, I got talking to one of the nurses.”

“That's okay, sweetie, I've only just arrived. How did it go?”

“Fine, I've finished with him. He doesn't want to see me again unless I have a problem,” I said.

“Wonderful, that's good, isn't it?”

“I suppose so.”

He dropped me off at school and I went straight to the music department. The band was due to start a rehearsal at twelve and I wanted to have a few minutes just to think by myself.

I was in luck, as the room was empty. I sat at the drums and just practised some basic fill-ins. My mind was elsewhere though.

Annie had confirmed nearly everything I had said and I still hadn't asked some questions. She knew her dad had kept a secret from everyone and it was the most important aspect. It meant that part of me had possibly been him. It wasn't like reincarnation, more like a second and fresh chance. I now believed that I wasn't going to get any memory back, not mine, or anyone else's. I watched, slightly detached, as my hands and feet played the drums while I was mentally unconnected to the operation. This was where I would be at an advantage. Not with memories, but with hidden skills that would come out whenever the need arose.

Like with Samantha. There is no way that I could have dealt with her as coolly and as controlled as I had. I smiled. Inside of me was a grizzled old guy who always wanted to be a girl. Together we would rock!

I was literally a new person, a combination between a girl, physically strong but with a severe head injury, and a man, psychologically strong but with a body weakened by 30 years of shift work and heart disease. With a strong will to survive, a depth of hidden talents and an excitement in being gloriously female, what could possibly stop me?

It was almost a relief to discover that it wasn't so much amnesia I was suffering from, but birth pains. I was a new individual and it stood to reason that I had to start from scratch. It made perfect sense in a completely screwy situation. I felt an excitement build up inside of me and I felt gloriously fulfilled.

I let rip on the drums with unconscious exhilaration and surprised the heck out of the guys who walked in at that minute.

“Bloody hell, we wondered who that was. That was amazing, Jen!” said Mark. Tim just grinned at me and shook his head.

The session was better than the previous one. I was completely relaxed and much more adventurous than before. Whatever they played, I managed to adapt to and keep solid rhythm. It was such fun and I felt so happy, I kept wanting to laugh and sing. The electronic drums were fantastic, as they could literally make whatever sound I programmed them to.

Going home on the bus, that afternoon, I couldn't help but smile.

“What are you so happy about?” Charlie asked.

“I've cracked it Charlie, I don't have to worry any more.”

“You've got your memory back?”

“No, better than that, I'm finally aware who I am.”

She frowned.

“I didn't think there was any doubt, was there?”

“Not to anyone else, just me. It doesn't matter who I was before. That Jenny is gone. The Jenny I am now isn't the same, the crash put paid to her. I'm me, Charlie, I'm really happy to be me and life is great!”

“They haven't given you some of those funny mushrooms in the science block, have they?”

I laughed and shook my head. I was really and truly free of the past. Free from whomsoever I'd been. It didn't matter who that person had been. I was now me and I had my whole life ahead of me.

The house was empty when I got in. There was a note from Dad on the dresser in the hall.

Gone to Heathrow. Back at six. Make supper, mince in fridge. Love Dad

I smiled. He was finally going to talk to his boss and arrange to get back to work. It had been over a month and a half and I was worried he'd become rusty.

I went into the kitchen and made myself a drink. It was odd being at home - all alone, but I was in such high spirits, even being alone couldn't dampen them.

I went upstairs and into my Dad's room, opening Mum's wardrobe. All her clothes were still there and I knew Dad was having a problem coming to terms with throwing them away.

I stripped off my clothes down to my bra and panties. Then I had a private fashion show, with just me watching in the mirror. I tried on several dresses, some skirts, blouses and a seriously sexy trouser suit.

Finally, I found a stunning little black dress, with the tiniest shoulder straps and shape-hugging cut. It was silk and utterly gorgeous.

I took some sheer dark stockings and fiddled about with the suspender belt for a while as I worked out how to wear it. It reasoned that the panties should go outside the straps, otherwise loo times would be fraught!

I sat at Mum's dressing table and looked at her makeup. I made myself up, as near as I could to the way she used to look in the photographs I had seen. I even got an album out and opened the page at a particularly good one where she was wearing the same dress.

My hair was much shorter than hers in the photo, so I fluffed it up and backcombed it to give it some body.

The result surprised even me, as I posed in front of the mirror. I found some nail varnish, carefully applying it to my shaped nails.

I looked suddenly much older than sixteen and it dawned on me how some girls got into trouble.

I slipped on an expensive looking pair of Mum's shoes and returned downstairs. I laid the dining room table, setting two places, with a candle in the middle.

Putting an apron round my middle, I then worked hard preparing my father a lovely meal. I even remembered to open a nice bottle of red wine, to allow it to breathe.

I made homemade tortillas and then braised the mince, adding the spices and chilli. I sliced up some onion and made a salsa with tomatoes, peppers and more chilli. I didn't have Mexican rice, so I made a savoury rice with basmalti, by soaking out the starch, frying onion and garlic in olive oil, then with a beef stock cube, some cashew nuts and pine nuts, added the wet rice and boiling the water away a couple of times.

The tortillas were baking gently when I heard Dad arrive home.

Anxious that he wouldn't be angry with me for wearing Mum's clothes, I took off my apron and waited by the door with a gin and tonic, with ice and lemon. I took a sip and was sorely tempted to make another for myself.

He came in, looking tired, so I kissed his cheek, handing him his drink.

He took one look at me and almost collapsed.

I took him by the hand and sat him down in his favourite chair. I knelt at his feet and looked up at him.

“I'm sorry Daddy, I thought you'd be pleased.”

His face broke into a sad smile.

“I am, Jenny. More than you know. It's just you look so like her. It hurts so much!”

“I know. I tried to, I think. I'm not Mummy, but I want to look after you after you've looked after me.”

“That dress suits you. It was her favourite little black dress.”

“I love it, it feels fantastic!” I said.

“Oh, Jen, I miss her so much!”

“Me too Daddy, me too,” I said, giving him a hug.

I left him to check on supper. Just as well, for the Tortillas were about to burn.

I dished up and carried it all through to the dining room. I returned to the sitting room to find him crying in the chair. I hugged him again.

“Come on, Daddy, dinner awaits.”

He followed me in and gasped when he saw what I'd done.

“Jenny, you never did all this?” he asked.

I nodded, with a big smile.

“Sweetie, it's wonderful!”

“Dad, never say that before you taste it. Sit down and I'll dish up.”

I served him, showing him how to roll the tortillas. They were a little crisp, but with the moist mince and salsa, they were fine.

“I'm sorry, you didn't get any avocados, so I couldn't make you guacamole.”

“Jenny, when ever did you learn to do all this?”

“I don't know. I just did it.”

I poured him some wine and I took some in my glass. He toasted me.

“To my little princess, thanks for coming back to me!” he said and we both cried a little.

He ate everything, as we chatted about his meeting.

“I'm starting flying next week. The Christmas rush is on, so they need all the pilots they can get. I've pulled the early Heathrow to Edinburgh flights, so I can get home early. You can look after Ricky for me, can't you?”

“Of course. I'm pleased you're going back. You need some normality in your life.”

“I'll be pleased when you can drive. That'll take a load off my mind, and give me more flexibility,” he said.

“Um, Dad?”

“What?”

“I actually could drive now.”

“You're not seventeen until April.”

“No Dad, I mean a moped. Some of the girls at school have little scooters and I'm sure I'd be fine.”

“They're bloody dangerous things. I'm not sure I approve. Don't forget, you sustained a serious fracture to your skull, you don't want to take any undue risks.”

“It wouldn't be for that long and I can't just stay wrapped in cotton wool forever. Besides, horse riding is more dangerous and I'm not doing that. I'd still get the bus to school and back. But for pootling into the village to shop and stuff, it would make your life easier, wouldn't it?”

He frowned, obviously imagining me in a ditch minus several limbs.

“Dad, in April I'll be in a car. This way I can pick up some road sense before the driving lessons.”

He nodded.

“On one condition,” he said.

“What?”

“You will do the right Compulsory Basic Training. You will take the theory test and practical test as soon as you can. None of this keeping ‘L' plates up until you pass your car test. If you do it, then you do the approved course and make sure you know how to ride properly!”

I couldn't believe it. I so nearly hadn't mentioned it, as I was certain he'd refuse to even consider me getting a bike. My head injury was the most likely reason he'd refuse to, so I was utterly surprised and pleased.

“Oh, Daddy! Thanks,” I said, giving him an enormous hug.

He smiled.

“I never could resist your mother when she wore that dress, either.”

Tanya Allen 
Copyright 12.10.05