Who I Am To You

There was an uncomfortable silence. To fill the vacuum between them with small talk would only exasperate the mood. There was no need.

Everything had already been said.

They were stood at the bus stop on a cool spring Sunday evening. To either side, other people were waiting to be taken away to another part of the city.

All seemed calm, but that was not how Jack was feeling. He looked at her standing by his side and was awash with feelings of guilt and sadness. Her long flowing hair and pale skin would now only be an image singed into his mind.

He would never forget what had happened.

The humming roar of the bus engine could be heard before the vehicle turned the corner and made its way towards them. Fellow passengers started organising themselves in an orderly queue.

Ciara turned to look at him. The smile that appeared upon her face was tarnished by a subtle twitch of her eyebrows, that curved in such a way conveying her inner turmoil. Her blue eyes were glazed; she was desperately trying to hold back the tears. Her lower jaw quivered, as though she was saying something silently behind her closed lips.

‘Well,...’ Jack uttered, and took a deep breath to calm his nerves. He then looked her in the eyes. ’I hope the move home goes well for you.’

‘Thanks,’ she said flatly.

‘So, ah, I guess this is goodbye?’

‘Goodbye.’ She smiled.

For a moment they stood there facing each other. Jack starting easing forward with the intention to hug her, thinking it would be the amicable thing to do, but she abruptly turned on her heels and started pacing towards the doorway.

Feeling a sense of relief, he sighed through his nostrils and watched as she got on the bus, tapped her debit card on the contactless pad, and then sauntered to the back to sit on the opposite side, away from him.

This would be the last memory of her — a silhouette overshadowed by his reflection in the window.

The doors slid shut, a loud noise of the hydraulic system resounded, and then the bus started to make its way along its journey, taking her away from his life.

‘Fuck,’ Jack exclaimed, before taking another deep breath to calm his nerves. He watched as the bus slowly disappeared into the distance, and then turned to see that he was the only person remaining at the bus stop.

He looked towards the green on the opposite side of the road. Young families and teenagers were enjoying the minimal amount of sunlight left for the weekend. It was a calm scene. People going about their lives. Life was moving forward. Tomorrow was another day.

Looking once more in the direction of the bus, Jack then started making his way back to the flat. His eyes were averted towards the pavement, trying not to think of anything, and longing for the safety and comfort of his bedroom.

When Jack arrived at the flat, he closed the door, walked into the lounge to say hello to his flatmate, Ahmed, before excusing himself and heading towards his bedroom.

Once inside, he closed the door, placed his head against it, looked down, and then tightly closed his eyes. He stood there for a few moments, finding solace with this barricade from the outside world.

Two weeks later, Jack was sat in a small cafe on the high street. It was a little place with quirky furnishings and a menu filled with every possible variation of smashed avocado and sourdough bread imaginable. He was sat drinking a creamy latte, whilst waiting nervously.

He heard the front door closing and looked over his shoulder to see his date approaching. She was a tall, pretty brunette. Just his type. Once their eyes met, she smiled and started making her way towards him.

All the while, Jack inspected how she appeared — her facial features and physique —before turning round to take in a deep breath to calm his nerves.

‘Hey!’ she said, taking a seat opposite him.

‘Hey, how’s it going?’ he replied.

‘Really good, thanks.’ She then removed her coat, placed it on the back of the chair and started looking around the cafe. ‘This place has some interesting decor!’

‘Yeah,’ — he chuckled — ‘it certainly has some personality to it.’

She then looked over her shoulder to try and get the attention of the waitress. Meanwhile, Jack looked at her sceptically. Other than declining another coffee, he remained silent as she ordered her own. Once this was done, she then looked back at him and noticed a peculiar expression upon his face.

She giggled nervously. ‘Is everything all right?’

Suddenly, Jack became self-conscious, sat upright in his chair, and then said, ‘Yeah, fine. Sorry! Was miles away.’

‘Do you know where the bathroom is?’

He then pointed to the back of the cafe. ‘Just head down those stairs.’

‘Cool! I’ll be right back.’ She then laughed, stood up, and made her way to the back of the cafe, whilst he watched her.

Jack chewed the inside of his cheek, relaxed his posture, and then pulled the phone out of his pocket. He opened Instagram and then started scrolling through the feed, looking at various posts.

As he did this, he became absent-minded and his vision blurred.

Jack’s vision was blurred, so he closed his eyes and opened them once more. He didn’t know how long he had been sat on the toilet. What should only take a few minutes usually lasted twice as long; he had the habit of mindlessly scrolling through his phone. During the day, it was the only time he had or wanted, to give attention to dating apps.

So there he was, half-heartedly browsing through the women in his local area, whilst occasionally shifting to alleviate the numbed sensation in his arse. He flicked through profiles indifferently, having fostered a scepticism to online dating because of his previous experiences. He found the whole process repetitive and lacking authenticity. In such a fast-paced, crowded city, things like this only accentuated the alienation and lost art of physical conversation.

It was a knock at the door that drew him back to reality. Startled, he looked upwards.

‘I won’t be a minute!’ he said in a fluster.

‘Okay!’ Ahmed replied.

Jack then reached for the toilet roll, but as he was about to clean himself he chanced upon a profile that caught his eye. Her name was Ciara, she was twenty-eight years old, Irish, and only lived one mile away.

A minute or so later, Jack left the bathroom, shouted to Ahmed, before returning to his bedroom. Once inside, he threw himself face down onto the bed, pulled out his phone and once more looked at her profile. She was a poet and had photos of her travels. Creativity and a lust for adventure were two very appealing traits.

‘Okay, Jack, don’t get ahead of yourself,’ he said. Scrolling through her profile once more, his thumb then hovered over the button to start a conversation. He hesitated, knowing how his previous experiences had ended somewhat dismally, but then decided to approach this with a new leash of light-heartedness and optimism, saying dryly: ’Y.O.L.O, and all that shite.’

He then proceeded to type a message. Something generic: a question about where she had been travelling. Once done, he set the phone aside and went off to cook dinner.

When he returned, there was a message from her. Intrigued, he read the response: ‘Hi! Yes, that was me in Thailand a few years ago. Have you been?? x’

His first judgement was that she seemed energetic and engaging, but was fully aware of how people falsely presented themselves on these apps.

Jack then started to respond, talking about his experience of travelling. And what proceeded for the next few hours was a steady flow of conversation. It wasn’t uncommon for this to happen when first matching, but he did notice ease to how they were interacting. Even so much that before he was about to go to bed, Jack mustered the courage to ask her out on a date that Friday. Almost instantaneously, she replied with a yes.

‘Oh, okay! She is keen.’ He nodded, before asking for her number. She agreed to this, he saved it, and then they started talking on WhatsApp. Her profile photo was similar to on the app: a pixilated black and white image of her posing alone.

See you on Friday night at 7pm? - Jack

Yeah, that sounds great! xxx - Ciara

For a moment, he thought it best to leave it at that but decided to be courteous by wishing her good night. Instantly, the phone erupted. She replied with a single emoji — the face blowing a heart.

‘What do I do?’ He thought, cringing. ‘I don’t want to appear too casual or too desperate. But if I don’t respond it might make things awkward?’

Reluctantly, Jack then replied with the same emoji, before rolling his eyes in disbelief and throwing the phone aside.

A few nights later, Jack walked into the bar and saw Ciara standing there. She was wearing a big faux fur coat and heels that made her tower above the other people who stood nearby. Reminding himself to be casual, Jack approached her.

‘Hi, Ciara,’ he said joyfully. She turned around and looked at him.

‘Oh, hey!’ And without hesitation, she went straight in for a hug. Taken off guard, Jack received it, before swiftly averting his attention towards the selection of beers on draft.

‘This place is really nice,’ she said looking around the busy pub. It had a high ceiling, and the acoustics in the room were terrible, so her words were barely decipherable. Jack said something in return, which she could just about register.

He then offered to buy the first round. They took their drinks, walked around to find a seat, and soon found that the only spot available was two spaces on a low leather sofa.

‘This is a little close,’ he thought.

‘Looks like we’ll have to go there!’ She exclaimed, giggled, and then led them towards the seat, before removing her coat, placing it to one side and then sitting down. Jack followed. It seemed odd facing forward, so he placed one knee onto the sofa and faced her.

‘Well, this is very intimate for a first date!’ He chuckled, trying to quell any awkwardness.

Ciara took a sip of her gin and tonic through a straw, and then said, ‘Oh, well! I’m just hoping you’re not a serial killer!’

‘A bit dark, but it’s good she has a sense of humour,’ he thought, taking a considerably large sip of the IPA. ‘So, I saw on your profile that you have only been in London a few weeks?’

She nodded. ‘Yes, that’s right; I moved here to do a creative writing course.’

‘Interesting! And how is that going?’ He placed the glass onto a table in front of them.

‘Really well so far.’ He noticed the northern Irish twang in her accent. There was a smooth, jazzy quality to her voice. ‘The group is made up of people from different backgrounds and levels of skill. We meet in the city centre twice a week.’

‘And have you found it worthwhile so far?’

‘So, so.’ She then proceeded to curl up her long, brown hair and tossed it over one shoulder. ‘I am not going to lie — there are some people on the course who are absolute shite, and I have to sit through their readings.’

‘A bit tedious?’

‘Err, soul-destroying.’ She then took another sip.

‘What is your experience?’

‘I’ve written several pieces over the years, but thought it was time to do a course to work on my skills.’

‘Fair enough. What sort of style are you?’

Her eyes enlarged. ‘I am a huge fan of Sylvia Plath. Do you know her?’

‘Oh, yeah!’ Jack wiped his lip after taking another sip. ‘Isn’t her work meant to be quite dark and depressing?’

‘Yes, it is! It is so raw, emotional and uncompromising.’

‘And your work is the same?’

‘Probably not as bleak. I’m not suicidal!’ She touched his forearm and projected a high-pitched laugh.

‘I hope not.’ Jack laughed awkwardly.

‘So tell me about what you do?’

‘I’m a musician.’

‘Are you now?’ — Ciara shuffled closer — ‘what do you play?’

‘I’m a singer-songwriter. I’ve been doing it for several years now.’

‘I can say that I met you before your rise to stardom. You won’t forget me when you are headlining Glastonbury, will you?’

Jack laughed self-deprecatingly. ‘I’ll make sure to get you back-stage tickets.’

‘Amazing! So is it your full-time job?’

‘If only!’ Jack took another large sip of the beer. The glass was nearly empty, like his outlook. ‘I have an office job to pay the rent.’

‘Oh, right.’

‘What about you?’

‘Yeah, I am currently looking for work.’

‘How are you affording to live?’

‘My dad helps me out.’

‘Fair enough.’

‘But I need to find something soon because he won’t support me for much longer.’ She then looked off into the distance. ‘I’m actually stressed out at the moment because I also need to find somewhere new to live.’

‘Why is that?’

‘I live with a couple, but they are selling their place, so I need to find somewhere within the next few weeks.’

‘I’m sure you can find something decent. Have you looked on SpareRoom?’

‘Yeah.’ She then shook her empty glass. ‘ My round. Same again?’

‘Please.’ Jack necked the rest of his pint and then handed it to her. She then stood up and sauntered over to the bar. He noticed that she was wearing loosely fitted clothes, which concealed the curves of her physique.

As the night continued, conversation flowed, drinks were consumed, they got closer on the sofa and, inevitably, they started to kiss. By this stage, the bar was emptying, but in their drunken mindset, any inhibitions had gone.

‘Fancy going to another pub nearby?’ he asked.

‘Sure.’ She smiled.

Not too long afterwards, they were sat in Jack’s local, accommodating a whole sofa by the bar.

‘So are you going to play me some of your music, some time?’ She looked lustfully into his eyes.

‘You’d like it if I serenaded you?’ Jack drunkenly winked.

‘I can stand on a balcony, whilst you play to me from below.’

‘Like Romeo and Juliet?’

Once more, she giggled in that high-pitched manner. ‘Just like that!’

‘Well,…’ Jack then paused, hesitated, but then slurred: ‘You could always come back to my place tonight and I can give you a private performance?’

“Oh, you’re a smooth talker, aren’t you?’ She gave him a comical, condescending pat on the thigh.

‘Okay, too forward,’ he thought.

She then sat up straight. ‘D’you know what? Fuck it. Where do you live?’

‘Just down the road.’

‘Ah, I see. So is this what you do with all your groupies? Meet them in a local bar and then take them back to have your wicked way with them?’ She smirked.

‘It’s a tried and tested method. My victim count is pretty high now,’ he said sarcastically.

‘Oh, no! You are a serial killer!’ She giggled.

After they had finished this rambling conversation, and necked their drinks, they stumbled out of the pub and made their way to his flat. Trying not to disturb Ahmed, Jack gently closed the front door, gestured for her to be quiet, and then jokingly tip-toed towards his bedroom. She followed behind, covering her mouth to conceal her giggling.

When they entered the room, Jack closed the door and then they started to passionately kiss. Light from the street illuminated the room. Clothes were thrown onto the floor, the cupboard draw creaked as Jack pulled out a condom from a packet, and then they slumped onto the bed.

By this stage, his vision was blurred and was preoccupied with making sure he could perform. He barely paid attention to her athletic figure, apart from her small, pert breasts. They then started caressing each other.

Jack lay on his side over Ciara and started easing his hand between her legs. Feeling him edging closer, she flinched.

‘Are you okay?’ He whispered.

‘Yeah, yeah I’m fine.’ She said softly.

‘Shall I continue?’ He asked gently.

‘Yes.’ She then started kissing him.

Jack continued to put his hand under her panties and started to rub her. His awareness was tainted by being intoxicated, but as his fingers felt her something came to mind.

It was a brief thought, a passing observation; something peculiar.

He could sense that she was feeling tense.

‘Shall we carry on?’

‘Yes. Sorry, I just need to relax.’

He sat up. ’How about we leave it for tonight?’

‘No, no.’ She sat up and looked at him. ‘It’s fine….It’s just been a while.’

‘I understand.’

She then pulled him on top of her.

The next morning was predictably awkward, as can be the case for people who have had sex on the first date. Jack, barely able to string a sentence together because of the overwhelming headache he was contending with, woozily watched as she hurriedly put on her clothes over her pale, athletic physique. He then wished her on her way as she stealthily made her way out of the flat.

Over the next few days, they continued to text and it was apparent that there was potential for something more than just a casual fling. Having learnt from his previous experiences, Jack tried to play it cool but could tell they were both very keen and the conversation was more than just superficial.

So much so that Ciara started to share her poetry. Something she hadn’t done other than with people on the course. Jack could tell that these new pieces were obviously relating to their experience; they were tainted with strong emotions and inner conflict.

Jack asked her out on another date, so they decided to meet at his local pub. It was a Friday evening and she joined him just after he had finished work. He bought them a round of drinks and they sat at the table.

‘So, how was your day?’ she asked cheerfully, taking a sip of her pint.

‘It wasn’t too strenuous. I can’t complain.’ He laughed sheepishly. ‘To be honest, because it is just a means-to-an-end job I am not going to say much about it other than it was bearable.’

‘Fair enough.’

‘How was the course today?’

Her eyes lit up. ’It was really interesting!’

‘Nice! What happened?’

‘So, we met up in a coffee shop inside of Waterstones. The tutor called Paul — an eccentric type, as you would imagine — gave us all a task.’

‘What was that?’

‘Basically, we had to go and find someone to stalk for the afternoon and then had to write a profile about them.’

‘Stalk?!’

She erupted with the high-pitched giggle. ‘Yes, I know — crazy!’

’So what did you have to do?’

‘I saw this woman walking around the book isles. So I followed her from a distance, eavesdropping on a conversation between her and this other person she was speaking to on her phone. Initially, I thought that it was some form of business meeting, but as I listened in more I realised they were discussing something about the legal rights of a child.’

‘How far away were you standing?’

‘A couple of metres.’

‘And how long for?’

‘About fifteen minutes…inside the shop.’

‘You followed her outside?’

‘Yeah, and stayed behind her for another ten minutes until she walked into a big office block.’

‘That must have been a bit nerve-wracking?’

‘It was so weird! She again giggled loudly. Jack was unfazed, whilst the sound caused other people nearby to jolt.

‘What happened then?’

‘Well, I went back and had to dramatise a profile about this woman, before sharing it with the rest of the class.’

‘What was the aim of the lesson?’

‘How we take strands of information from observing people to then construct an image of them in our own minds.’

‘Deep.’

‘I know, right?’

‘Sounds like they are really asking you to push yourself outside of your comfort zone.’

‘Definitely; it is really giving me some life skills.’ She smiled, before turning away. Her expression changed, as though wrestling something internally.

‘Is everything okay?’ he asked.

‘Yes, fine.’ She looked at him once more and managed to smile, but it looked strained.

‘How about we go next door for a pizza?’ Jack nervously mouthed the rest of his drink.

‘I haven’t eaten all day, so that sounds like a great idea!’

‘Great!’ He then stood up, took their two empty glasses to the bar, before returning and putting on his jacket.

A few minutes later, they were sat at a table looking at the menu. The conversation carried on in a light manner, and the time between ordering and the food arriving seemed to pass very quickly.

But Jack could sense that there was a shift. Ciara seemed preoccupied and her upbeat demeanour had subsided. She now seemed pensive. As they finished eating their meals, Jack put down the knife and fork and looked at her.

‘Was there something I said? I know I can be a bit forward.’ He laughed nervously.

‘No! No!’ She said in a thoughtful tone. ‘It is actually quite refreshing meeting someone who is so into me.’

‘Oh, right.’ Jack listlessly fondled the last piece of pizza before eating it with his hands and cleaning his fingers with a napkin.

‘It is just that…’ She then looked out of the window, as though trying to muster the strength to say something. Jack sat back and read the conflicted expression upon her face.

‘Is everything all right?’

There was an uncomfortable moment of silence.

‘I just feel like’ — she then looked upwards, as though unable to look him in the eyes — ‘it is quite a lot us doing this, and the thought of me opening up emotionally to you is quite a big deal.’

‘I have misjudged this,’ he thought. ‘We should have taken things a lot slower. Jack!’

‘I think we are both getting wrapped up quite intensely in the moment,’ he admitted.

‘True.’ She then looked at him. ‘There is something that I need to tell you.’

‘Fire away,’ he said confidently and then thought: ‘if she has had issues with guys in the past I can totally understand.’

Again, another protracted pause.

The air was cut with the sound of the other diners and the distant echoes of the kitchen.

‘Well, the thing is…’ she uttered and looked away. ‘I am transgender.’

Suddenly, Jack was reminded of that evening, of the peculiar feeling. A thought that he had cast to the back of his mind.

When she said that word, he felt a cold shiver seep down his spine.

‘Sorry, what did you say?’

‘I am a transgender woman.’ She looked at him and bit her inner lip nervously. This time, Jack felt the words penetrate his ears and the acceptance caused him to sit back, dumbfounded.

‘Oh, wow,’ he expelled.

‘I thought that it would be appropriate to tell you now rather than further down the line.’

‘That is understandable.’ He took a sip of water to cleanse his dried throat. ’So, when did you have the surgery?’

‘When I took that trip to Thailand.’

‘And that was only a few years ago?’

‘That is right.’

‘Beforehand?’

‘I was called Ciaran. I tried to associate as a male for a very long time, especially because of my catholic background. Even when I went to university I was dating hot girls. But I decided that I needed to do this once and for all. I needed to be who I truly am. My mother never approved, but my dad — being a psychologist — was supportive. He was the one who suggested that I went on anti-depressants. ’

She looked vulnerable. He remained motionless.

‘I completely understand.’ Jack swallowed hard. She looked at him sceptically. Lightly, he pushed the chair backwards. ‘Please excuse me, I just need to go to the toilet.’

‘Okay,’ she said reluctantly.

Jack then stood up and made his way to the bathroom at the rear of the restaurant, feeling self-conscious as though her eyes were watching him. Once inside, he locked the door and went straight for the sink. Turning on the cold tap, he then leant over and started splashing the liquid across his face in an attempt to alleviate the disorientation he was feeling. After several moments of dowsing his face, he then turned off the tap and looked at himself in the mirror, trying to digest the realisation, before taking several large breaths.

‘Can I do this? I consider myself to be an open-minded person. So what if she is transgender? We get on well and I shouldn’t give a damn what other people think about that. It is what it is,’ he thought, and yet didn’t want to leave this bathroom.

He didn’t want to face the reality.

‘You have to deal with this properly.’ He looked at himself firmly in the mirror. ‘Fuck.’

Slapping himself lightly on the cheeks, he took a paper towel to dry off his skin, before straightening up, unlocking the door and walking back out. When he returned to the restaurant, he looked at her still sitting there. As he approached, he now saw how much effort she had put into transforming herself into who she truly was.

‘Nice meal,’ he said sitting down.

‘It was really good’ — she then read his expression — ‘thank you.’

‘My pleasure.’

The waiter came forward and asked if they wanted desserts. Both declined and were left to sit alone.

Finally, Jack broke the silence: ’You have to understand that this is unexpected for me.’

‘Yeah, I get that,’ she said dryly. He could tell that she was scrutinising every utterance and gesture.

He sighed, looked towards the waiter. ‘Shall we get the bill?’

‘Okay.’

‘Let’s go back to mine and watch a film?’

‘Oh, okay.’ She was taken aback.

Once the bill was paid, they then proceeded to collect their coats and left the restaurant.

When they got to the flat it was empty, so they casually walked into his room, threw their jackets to one side, collected his laptop, and then lay down on the bed.

There was still tension between them.

‘So, what do you fancy watching?’ He asked in an overly friendly manner.

‘Oh, how about A Star Is Born?’ she said enthusiastically.

‘Sounds great!’

He then leaned towards her, they looked into each other’s eyes, and there was an understanding between them that didn’t require words. He then kissed her delicately on the lips.

Minutes later, they were lying in a spoon position, facing the laptop. Jack turned on the film, adjusted the sound level, and then slumped back. For a while, he tried paying attention, but every so often looked down at Ciara’s body resting in front of him. He looked down at her face and could see that she looked conflicted.

Jack lay back and closed his eyes tightly. When he opened them again, he tried to lose himself in the melodrama of the film, instead of the one he was living.

The next morning, Jack woke up and lay there for a while staring at Ciara as she slept peacefully by his side. He looked at her bone structure and pale complexion. Her plump lips. The golden hints in her wavy long hair.

He couldn’t help but think about what she might have looked like in her former life.

When he returned from brushing his teeth, she was awake and sitting upright in bed.

‘Morning,’ he said, closing the door gently behind.

‘Morning,’ she said softly, before yawning and stretching.

‘Fancy a coffee?’ He pointed with his thumb in the direction of the kitchen.

‘Sure,’ she said looking at him, before picking up her phone from the bedside table and then proceeding to scroll through her emails.

‘Okay, I’ll be right back.’

Half an hour later, after their fix of caffeine, Ciara went to the toilet, whilst Jack got back into bed and lay there looking up listlessly at the white, plastered ceiling.

Ciara reentered the room and started to put her clothes on.

‘Leaving already?’ he asked, sitting upright.

‘Yeah, I have things to do,’ she said.

‘Fair enough.’ Whether it was nausea brought on by the coffee, or something else, he felt uncomfortable.

For the following minute or so they remained silent. Jack, unsure what to say, grabbed his phone and started casually browsing social media. When Ciara had finished putting on her ankle boots, she stood up and looked at him.

‘Right, I am off.’

Jack put the phone aside and looked up at her. ‘Okay, speak later?’

‘Sure.’ She forced a smile and then left.

Once he heard the sound of the front door closing, Jack slumped down onto the bed and then sighed heavily through his nostrils.

‘Have you been to this place before?’ Jack asked, as they both looked around for an empty table, which wasn’t easy to find on a busy Saturday evening.

‘I haven’t, actually. It’s nice in here.’ Callum nodded enthusiastically.

Jack looked over his shoulder and could see their other friend Abby appear at the doorway. Once she clocked him, she waved and smiled, before meandering through the crowd until meeting her friends.

‘Hey, guys!’ she exclaimed.

‘Abby!’ They said in unison, before going in for a group hug.

‘What can I get you?’ Jack asked.

‘Whatever you guys are having.’

‘Great.’ Jack then leaned over and asked the barmaid to add another pint to the order, before turning to face them. ‘This round is on me. Thank you both for coming at such short notice. I really needed this.’

They both observed the disconcerted expression upon his face.

‘Of course!’ Abby replied.

A few minutes later, they found a table in the corner, which gave them some privacy. Once they had gone through the usual pleasantries and updated each other about work, Jack then took the opportunity to start explaining his current situation:

‘So, last night we met for a drink and a meal.’

‘Sounds like things are going really well so far, buddy.’ Abby took another sip of her drink.

‘Yeah, it was going all right.’ Jack let out a nervous laugh.

‘What happened?’ Callum suddenly asked, in a comically-patronising tone.

‘Yeah, well…’ Jack then averted his gaze.

‘Did something happen?’ Abby asked, exchanging confused looks with Callum.

‘I guess you could say that, yeah.’ Jack looked at them both, before taking a large gulp of the pint.

‘Go on!’ Callum teased.

‘Okay, so when we went for the meal, Ciara revealed something to me.’

‘Oh, right. What?’ Abby asked.

‘It is pretty fucking big.’

‘Come on, you’ll have to give us some clues,’ Callum said.

Jack shifted in his seat and cleared his throat. ‘What do you think could be such a huge thing about someone and their past?’

‘I dunno; maybe she was married?’ Abby asked. ‘Has kids?’

‘Has an STI?’ Callum added.

‘Okay, let’s say that it isn’t something…’ Jack looked down at the contours of the wooden table. ‘…That you hear about every day.’

‘Fucking hell, mate, talk about vague.’ Callum rolled his eyes.

‘Something that you don’t hear every day.’ Abby rubbed her chin, deep in thought. ‘Has she been assaulted in the past?’

‘No.’

Callum’s eyes suddenly enlarged, he grabbed Jack’s sleeve and looked at him. ‘No fucking way!’

‘What?’ Abby questioned.

‘She used to be a man?’ Callum exclaimed.

‘Yep.’ Jack nodded his head and averted his gaze once more to the table.

‘You’re kidding me?’ Callum continued.

Jack looked at him in the eyes. ‘No.’

‘And how did you react when she told you?’ Abby asked.

‘I was in a state of shock.’

Abby sat there for a moment, before asking: ‘Did you know this before you slept with each other?’

‘Ah, um…’

‘You did know?’ Callum said impatiently.

‘No.’ Jack looked at them both and swallowed hard. His friends took a moment to process this.

‘Jack.’ Abby placed a hand reassuringly upon his wrist. He looked into her eyes. ‘You do realise that it was non-consensual.’

‘How do you mean?’ He frowned.

‘If you weren’t aware prior to having sex with her that she is transgender, then that was deceit, surely?’

Jack sat back, expelled a heavy sigh, and then brushed fingers through his hair.

‘Fuck, I never thought about it that way.’ He looked vacantly into the distance. ‘But, even though I wasn’t aware of her past, the same could be said about me? She doesn’t know everything about my sexual history.’

‘It is not the same, mate.’ Callum shook his head.

Jack began to speak, but then stopped himself.

‘Are you okay?’ Abby rubbed his forearm.

‘Yeah, yeah, I think so?’ Jack nodded but seemed dejected.

‘Didn’t you have any inclination?’ Callum asked.

‘Sort of, but it was just a passing thought.’

‘Isn’t it classed as rape?’ Callum questioned Abby.

‘Don’t be ridiculous!’ Jack exclaimed. He then went silent for a few moments. Suddenly, he sat upright and said assertively: ‘Look, as far as I see it — she was just a woman who met a guy and wanted to be accepted as that. She didn’t feel compelled to tell me. We all have things that happen in our lives that we don’t want to be defined as, so perhaps she didn’t want to keep on carrying this burden around with her any longer.’

‘Fair play.’ Callum sat back digesting Jack’s words. ‘You are right.’

‘That’s brave of you,’ Abby added.

‘It’s not brave, it is just the way things should be,’ Jack replied. But then looked down at the empty glass. ‘But, it is a lot for me to process.’

‘I can understand why,’ Callum said in a sympathetic tone.

‘Jack, don’t worry about it — you slept with a woman.’ Abby stood up and walked towards the bar. ‘Let me get us another beer.’

Jack watched her, and then closed his eyes.

Jack opened his eyes. He was sat in exactly the same spot, but it was the following day. The large crowd gathered were enjoying Sunday roasts.

‘There you go.’ Ciara placed down his pint and then sat back down at the table.

‘Thanks.’

She then took a large sip of her gin and tonic. The atmosphere between them was relaxed, but he could sense there was something she wanted to say. She played with the straw in her drink, looked him in the eye, and then announced: ‘Look, I actually came here to tell you something.’

‘Oh, right.’ Jack sat up attentively in his seat, somewhat nervous as to what she was going to say. ‘What might that be?’

‘I have decided to go home.’

He looked at her in surprise, with a foam moustache. ‘To Ireland? Why?’

‘I can’t find work or a new place to live. And this, between us, has been a lot to process and it showed me that I have a lot of personal things to work on.’

He read the pensive expression upon her face. ‘How do you mean?’

‘It has been an emotional whirlwind for me. I am not sure I am ready for this. I can’t keep on going through these same experiences, exposing myself and it impacting on my mental health. So I have decided to put the course on hold for a year.’

He nodded sympathetically. ’When are you leaving?’

‘My flight is tomorrow.’

‘Oh, right. Wow.’

‘I know it might seem a bit abrupt to you, but I just don’t feel like I am ready for a lot of things.’

‘I can understand.’ He leaned back and chewed the inside of his lip. ‘So shall we stay in contact, or?’

‘I think for the time being it would be best to have some space.’

‘Yeah, I understand.’

Ciara then looked at her watch and said: ‘I had best be getting off. I need to finish packing.’ Finishing her drink, she stood up and took her fur coat.

‘Um, s-s-shall I walk you to the bus stop?’ He stood to meet her at eye level.

She hesitated for a moment before saying: ‘Thanks. I would appreciate it.’

‘It is the least I could do.’

They stood there for a moment looking at each other. He could see inner conflict burning in her eyes.

‘You know, I still expect those back-stage tickets to Glastonbury.’ She smiled.

‘I’ll see what I can do.’ He chuckled.

Ciara then pulled on her coat, and Jack walked around to join her. Then without another word, they slowly walked out of the pub and out into the spring evening.