Workman: Chapter Four - Part Eight

8

I was almost jogging by the time I reached the pub toilets.

I bashed it open far harder than I should have. I still didn’t comprehend the strength in these man’s limbs. I went to the sink and splashed some water on my face then glowered at my male reflection at it dripped away, furious at myself in an unquantifiable way: for turning into a man in the first place; for doing it again; for kissing Sangeeta; for not staying and kissing her again... I had no idea of why I was angry; I just was.

I made a fist of my hand and looked at the ring in it then back to my fiery eyes. This ring was the problem and it had been from the moment I slid it on. It had solved a few problems but had caused a hell of a lot more. It had to go. It had to go right now.

I grabbed it firmly and yanked. It wouldn’t come off. I twisted and pulled; twisted and pulled, determined to get it free. It started to move and simultaneously I got the first shimmer of the vein scratching and the crackle of the initial flash. I pulled harder, sliding it up to the first joint, and the sensation spread through my body. I looked into the mirror and saw the change starting to happen.

Then a knock came at the door.

I froze, the chilled sizzling working through my veins.

The knock came again.

I couldn’t be caught in the middle of this.

I had to put the ring back on.

But I couldn’t do that! This had gone far too far already. It had to end once and for all!

I ripped the ring off.

The door started to creak open.

The crushing numbness was all over my body now. Another flash came, dazzling me.

I ran into one of the cubicles, the change in mid-flow and slammed the door behind me, throwing the bolt with slim feminine fingers, gasping to draw in air, pain streaking up my back.

I bent double then threw my head back, clattering against the inner wall. I leaned against the back tiles , winced and then felt the final shudder.

I was myself again. I was a woman; dressed in the same faun trousers and a V-necked T-shirt I’d put on that morning as Alison, my hair tied back. I touched my stomach, my shoulders, my breasts, feeling odd and uncomfortable, curiously embarrassed to have these squashy orbs on my chest. I felt the drop in height, the loss of strength. It was horrible. I didn’t feel right at all. At least I wasn’t wearing a skirt. That would have been really weird.

I closed my eyes tightly, squeezing out the end of the transformation.

Then I heard a woman’s voice and I realised consciously what I’d known the second I heard the fist knock.

“Geoff?”

Sangeeta had come into the men’s room after me. She was standing right outside by the sinks where I had been six seconds earlier. She was right the other side of the flimsy wooden cubicle door.

“Geoff? Are you in there?”

I didn’t speak. My voice box was locked down tightly. How could I speak? What could I say? I was a woman! She’d know I wasn’t Geoff the moment I opened my mouth.

I said nothing but I was breathing heavily. Her footsteps came closer to the cubicle door but she didn’t speak again. I rested my forehead on the wood, hating myself all the more.

I thought she was going to leave, but instead she started to speak again and I could sense the emotion in her voice alongside the guilt it imparted to me.

“I know you’re in there Geoff,” she said, “and... I don’t know what’s wrong. I don’t know if I’ve done something or if... I don’t know... if you’re married or...”

My head gave an involuntary shake.

There was a long pause. She didn’t say anything out loud but there was a whisper of words hidden in her breath.

She was going to leave. I was being a bastard. Of course she was.

And I had to let her go. 

I opened my hand and looked down at the ring in my palm.

“Geoff...”

One footstep away. Then another. A long pause.

She was almost at the door.

I gritted my teeth and pushed the ring back on.

The pause continued as I staggered back, leaning against the inside of the cubicle in spikes of agony, then the footsteps withdrew, faster now, and the outer door opened.

“Sangeeta. Wait.”

I opened the cubicle door and stepped out, the last shimmering effects of the change chuntering away beneath my clothes. She was in the doorway, her face a mixture of hurt and anger, but when she saw me; saw the sorrow in my own expression; her fury melted away.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I don’t know... what the hell is wrong with me. It’s just that I think I—”

“It’s fine,” she said, cutting me off. “Really.” She looked away then back at me.

I took a step toward her. “Sangeeta...”

“Here’s an idea,” she said. “Cause I think people worry far too much about things nowadays, right? We’re always questioning what things are and what they mean and where they’re going, and then we get a load of hang-ups as a result. Everything gets complicated and we start freaking out and something that could have been... so simple... ends up being this big mess and—” She dropped her head back and smiled then lowered it back to face me, the smile turning into a grin. Then she gave a little sigh. “Let’s just have a bit of fun. What do you think? This isn’t the future. It isn’t tomorrow or next week. It isn’t a month from now or a year. It isn’t wedding bells, or children, or holding hands in an old folk’s home. It’s tonight. That’s all.”

The corner of my mouth tilted up into a point. “Tonight...”

She stepped into the room, letting the door drop closed. “I fancy you. You fancy me. We’re both phenomenal kissers.”

I chuckled and she giggled then we both laughed.

She looked so damn beautiful.

She came up to me. “How about we just enjoy ourselves for a bit and forget about all that other crap?”

I looked down at her. My right hand rose to her cheek. My left stroked her bare arm. We both smiled warmly and now my eyes were moist too.

“How about we--?”

I kissed her.

It was just brief and just purely sweet; or it was meant to be; but it went on and on until we’d both been swept up in it again, until we were almost pawing one another in passion and delight.

Eventually she pulled away and Sangeeta met my eyes with simple happiness. “Let’s get out of here,” she whispered.

I nodded.

 

“I normally don’t snog blokes in the loo until at least the third date.”