Free Sex and Other Changes by David Nobbs Page B

woman.’
    â€˜Excellent.’ Doctor Langridge’s voice, while still soft, became grave, ominously so, like a newsreader beginning a new and tragic subject after something amusing. ‘Now, the operation itself. You are going to have to be prepared to experience great pain and be laid up for a considerable period.’
    â€˜Talking of periods …’
    â€˜No. No womb. No ovaries. We can give you what we call a new vagina, or neo-vagina, but not childbirth.’
    â€˜A new vagina, but no new labour.’
    Doctor Langridge didn’t smile at that. He didn’t look remotely like smiling.
    â€˜I welcome humour if it helps relieve the tension,’ he said.
    He took Nick through the details of the operation. They weregruesome. Nick gripped the arms of his chair as fiercely as he did when having root canal work done at the dentist’s. He feared that he might pass out. There were droplets of sweat on his forehead, and his hair grew lank with perspiration.
    â€˜There are two things I must emphasise in conclusion,’ said Doctor Langridge. ‘There are those who will say that you can never truly be a woman, because you have male chromosomes and we cannot give you female chromosomes.’
    â€˜What do you think about that?’
    â€˜I think that one can use words to argue any point that one fancies. I think it all depends ultimately on you. I am only the conduit for your ambitions. You will have a vagina and, we hope, a mini-clitoris. You will pee sitting down. You won’t even need to think about your chromosomes if you don’t want to. It really is entirely up to you.’
    â€˜And the second thing?’
    â€˜One last reminder – which I cannot make too emphatic – that the whole process is going to involve a great deal of pain,’ said Doctor Langridge. ‘Are you truly prepared to undergo this pain?’
    Nick swallowed. He had to summon up all the Divot grit, that bottom line that stopped the Divots from giving in, however wimpish they might seem.
    â€˜I am prepared.’
    He asked if Nick had any other questions. Well, there was one he just had to ask.
    â€˜Will I … that is … how will my sexual feelings be? How much … er … sexual feeling will I … well … feel … sexually?’
    â€˜That one’s impossible to call,’ said Doctor Langridge. ‘Intercourse could – perhaps should – be possible, though there is no written guarantee! In a few cases pain and bleeding render it … er … less than pleasant. Some people do tell us that they have experienced orgasm. Others most certainly do not. Nervous systems vary enormously.’ He paused, and looked atNick very solemnly, even sternly. ‘Do you still wish to proceed at this stage?’
    Nick paused before replying, not out of doubt but from a desire to emphasise his certainty.
    â€˜Oh yes,’ he said.
    The die had been cast.

8 Her Indoors
    It was one of the longest days of Alison’s life, the day Nick went to the gender identity clinic.
    It should have been her. She tried not to be angry, but it was beyond her. She was simmering with rage. It should have been her.
    She made him a cooked breakfast, grimly. He didn’t even notice that she was grim, which made her feel even more grim. He was locked into his excitement. It should have been her excitement.
    She gave him a whacking great piece of black pudding, throbbing with calories, gristled with fat, gross, masculine. She hoped it would spoil his breakfast as he skirted around it.
    He was in such a state that she didn’t even let him drive to the station. She suspected that he thought she did it out of love, and in a way she did. She had become very fond of both their cars.
    She dreaded work. She dreaded the thought of Mr Beresford. As she turned into Sir Nigel Gresley Boulevard and saw the great, unlovely bulk of the carriage works ahead of her, she found herself