The rest of Sunday I just lounged around listening to classical music, wondering how to go about getting my stuff over here. But what was there to bring, really? Clothes? I didn’t think so. Furniture? Nothing that would fit my new flat share. My music. Yes, that was what I would miss, if I left my collection of classical music behind. My tools? Yes, very important. Other than that there wasn’t much apart from my computer. I had one of the first colour notebooks, a compaq contura 420C, my pride and joy. And it had the first astrology program for the Munich Rhythm Theory on it, that had been specially debugged with my help for my requirements. Astrology was what occupied my time, if I was not working on a disco installation, a design for a loudspeaker cabinet or reading Terry Pratchett.

There was a boat from Harwich to Hamburg, so I would just have to load my car and drive onto the boat to get back here. Did I even want the old MG here? What for? I had been offered a convertible for the job, but I could hardly take that to Hamburg and load it with my stuff. I decided to put my car for sale among my friends, there were enough MG enthusiasts there in the club to buy the car, the (new) spare engine, the hard top and all, if I did not ask a silly price. I had loved that car, but now I would not have the time to repair it all the time, and I would have a brand spanking new Peugeot 205 convertible for my use. Much more of a girly car than a 1963 MGB. That car carried too many memories anyway.

It seemed, that my best bet was to hire a cheap but spacious car and take advantage of a weekend offer for a short trip to Hamburg to get things sorted. That left the problem of the passport. I decided to go to the embassy right after I had seen Florence the next morning. I rang my friend Janet, whom I had been dating while I was still at school and her husband Ricardo, with whom I had been jamming sometimes for fun, he had used my drum kit while I played the bass and Constantin and Rolf played guitar. As I dialled her number I started to wonder how to explain the way I now looked.

“Hi this is Janet, I am not home at the moment, so please leave a message after the tone. - beep.”

“Hi Janet, this is Mo … Magna. I am in London and have signed a contract for three years for a show...”

There was a click and then Janet was on the phone.

“Magna! Ricardo had been wondering where you were, he wanted to jam.”

“Hi Janet. As I said, I have been offered this job here in London for three years and I just yesterday signed the contract.”

“Great, I hope it is well paid. You certainly have earned a break now after those bastards at Amptown screwed you over. My dad sends his best wishes.”

“Thanks, Janet, you can tell Ernst that I am all right now. I have a slight problem, though, that I do not really know how to tell you about. You see, there was a change ...”

“Have you finally come out?” Janet asked in a very much matter of fact way.

“Have I what?” I asked aghast.

“What name do you go by now? Monika?”

“Monique.” I almost whispered.

“Sweet!” Janet commented “Suits. I always though if ever you came out you should go by Monika.”

“You knew I wanted to be a girl? I didn’t even know myself!”

“Monique, for years you wore high heels when you went out with Birgit so that you had the same height as her and girls trousers to cover the boots with the three inch heel. All us girls saw it, but we never said anything to the boys. They never noticed anything anyway.” She said with a giggle “But Ricardo knows, too. You know we do not have any secrets between us.”

“So you do not think I am completely crazy?”

“Monique, you were such a sweet and tender lover with me, much more like a girl than a boy. Even if I was only fifteen then, I realised you were different. All that macho pretence never convinced me. I cringed when you got that tattoo.”

I started to cry again.

“See?” Janet said tenderly “you are just so feminine in your ways. That is what I love most about you. I am so happy you are expressing yourself more freely now.”

“Janet,” I sobbed “I don’t know what to say ...”

“Tell me your problem, Monique.”

So I told her how it all had happened and she listened patiently. At one point there was a click in the line and Janet said:

“Moni, Ricardo is listening now, too.”

“Hi Moni.” that was Ricardo’s voice “Are you OK? You know we are your friends no matter what I hope?”

“Oh Ricardo ...” I was sobbing again “I ...”

“Don’t say anything,” there was a short whisper between the two of them “Monique. You do not need to explain anything but your problem.”

I sighed deeply.

“You cannot imagine the emotional roller coaster I am riding.”

There was a giggle from Janet but Ricardo remained gently focused.

“Do you want us to come?”

“Oh Ricardo, you are so sweet.” I sobbed “Thanks, but I have the emotional support from my friend Sandra and her friend May. I do not look anything like my passport photo any more and so I wonder how to get some of my stuff over and the car sold.”

Ricardo laughed softly.

“I am sure Janet will want to get to know that Sandra, apart from seeing how you now look, of course. So what we’ll do is you send us your keys and a power of attorney in some form, I take care of your car and stuff and then we load what you want and come for a nice weekend in London. How does that sound?”

I could hear Janet’s excited whispering in the background.

“You two are wonderful. How will I ever be able to thank you?”

“By being a happy woman and a friend.” Ricardo said.

I could not help but to cry again.

“Monique?” that was Janet again “could I talk to Sandra do you think?”

“I’ll go and find her, Janet.”

I went to look in the lounge, but heard noise from Sandra’s bedroom, wondering whether it was a good idea to disturb her and May, but the bedroom door opened and Sandra, still in her pjs came out.

“Whom are you talking to and why are you crying again, Honey?”

I just handed her the phone and went to huddle on the sofa trying to digest what had just happened.

There seemed to be quite an animated conversation between Sandra and Janet, that went on for some time. After about quarter an hour Sandra came and sat down besides me with a smile.

“She is absolutely lovely as far as I can gather from chatting with her, Honey. Was she your first girl friend?”

“Second. But we kept being friends after she met Ricardo.”

“Well,” Sandra said with a smile “she certainly filled in some gaps for me.”

Just then May came into the lounge, too and lit the gas fire.

“I don’t know about you two, but I think it is a bit cold for lounging about in our sleep wear without some heating.”

Sandra giggled.

“Sorry May, I was so excited to talk to Monique’s ex girl friend that I completely forgot how easily you get cold, Darling.”

“Oh that was your girl friend on the phone, Monique?”

“Janet and I were dating while I was still at school.” I explained.

“Hmmm,” Sandra hummed “and she said you made love to her like a girl.”

I blushed deeply. May laughed.

“No need to be ashamed about that, Monique. It is quite natural, if you are a girl.”

“Jeez, I must have been such an idiot.”

“No, Honey, just afraid and confused.” May replied.

“Like now.” I retorted.

“What are you confused about, Honey?” Sandra asked.

“Why did you all notice what I did not?”

“Because we’re women and you could not allow yourself to be one, too. You are free now, Monique. We all understand and support you. I am looking forward to meet Janet in person and that Ricardo, too. He sounds a wonderful man.”

“He is,” I said with a deep sigh “he certainly is.”

And that had been the woman in me speaking. There was nothing sexually attractive about Ricardo for me, but he certainly was different from most men I knew. And right now I, Monique, liked him even more than before.

“That was the woman speaking.” Sandra confirmed “Seems like today is a day for revelations. Did Janet never try to put you in a dress? You must still have had that wonderful hair when you were dating.”

“She did, once. I had bought tickets for Jazz on Carnival and she made me look like a girl. That night we had the most amazing sex ever. How could I have forgotten that?”

“The same way you forgot everything else. It was just too embarrassing for you at the time. You must have been so pretty!”

“I was, the boys kept hitting on Janet and me all the time.”

“So at least you now have some memories of yourself as a teenage girl.” Sandra said with a smile.

“Why are you having so much fun with this, Sandra?”

“Because you are just so incredibly cute, Monique.”