Man Wanted: Chapter Seven - Part Three

Steve’s house and the boiler that needed fixing were in Redbush, down the hill toward town. It wasn’t far away but it wasn’t quite round the corner either so I had a bit of time to think.

The encounter with Billy had thrown me for a loop. Seeing him alone had been jarring but it had opened a floodgate of memories in my head. As I drove, my mind jumped from one to another, the subject of one leading on to the next.

I could remember hanging out with friends as a teenage boy, walking the streets of Nockton trying to look tough with cigarettes in our mouths, then getting chased by a gang of kids from Barton down by the Banbury Way until we lost them in Fairgate.

I remembered trying to give up smoking (something I’d never touched as a girl) by using patches and gum; even trying hypnosis.

Remembered seeing a live hypnosis show while I was out with friends, pissed out of my skull and shouting heckles at the guy.

I remembered the girl I’d been with; a different one; and snogging her behind the theatre afterwards, pushing my hands up under her top and groping her breasts.

“Bloody hell,” I murmured.

It was like I could recall anything from a full life as a man.

But could I?

I tried that, giving myself a series of challenges. A trip to the beach? Yes. A clear picture came of me leaning against a groyne with a six pack of beer with my mate Tom, my top off. I could look down in the memory and see my tanned hairy chest; my long shorts and hairy legs. Though I was sure I’d never really had a friend called Tom.

A time at school? Yes. I caught a memory of sitting in detention, hating every minute of it, there for... skiving off with some mates.

It was surreal.

My first time having sex? Yes. That too. In a field with a blond fifteen year old, two years older than me; her clothes still on; just her skirt raised.

It was weird as anything.

I concentrated on driving for a while, trying not to bring up anymore. It was too intense; recalling all these things as though they’d really happened when I knew for a fact that they hadn’t.

My mind flicked back onto Billy and the mystery of his presence here. That was equally unpleasant and I tried to divert my mind again, forcing it onto the task ahead of me at Steve’s. He’d given me some details of the problem and I ran through various possible reasons for it in my mind, thinking about the model he’d said and its specifications. It was an old design that I’d worked on half a dozen times and had several design flaws. Fortunately, most of them were resolvable. It shouldn’t take me too long, though I’d probably have to go out for parts.

I frowned. Worked on it half a dozen times? That was impossible; but the memories were there from when I’d run my contracting business out of Coventry.

“This is wrong,” I whispered. “This is really wrong. I shouldn’t be remembering this stuff.”

Then a horrible thought occurred to me and I started wracking my brains, trying to remember my earlier years as girl and woman.

I thought of my school days as a girl and was relieved when I instantly recalled a picture of giggling in the corner of the playground with a little bunch of friends. Except... I frowned deeply, trying to remember what we’d been giggling about, but I couldn’t remember. And then I realised why.

In the memory image I could see myself – Alison. It wasn’t my memory of giggling with my friends; it was a Geoff memory of watching my sis— ... of watching my sister giggling with her friends.

“Jesus Christ.”

I tried to remember my wedding day to Billy and was momentarily relieved when the recollection came instantly. But again, it was an outside memory and the more I focused on it, the more it became clear. I remembered watching my sister cut her wedding cake in her meringue dress and glancing at the caterer, thinking how hot she looked. And that was followed by an encompassing recollection of shagging her senseless later that night while the evening party was still going on.

“Oh my God,” I said.

My memories had completely shifted.

I couldn’t remember my life as Alison at all anymore. All my memories were of a life as Geoff.

They couldn’t have all happened – Geoff hadn’t existed a week earlier – but as far as this reality shift had gone, the mental evidence was all there.

This had to end. It really did. It was going too far. I was going to lose myself. For the fiftieth time, I told myself I had to take the ring off and throw it away.

But I was so conflicted.

I had this job to do. I’d told Steve I’d be there. I couldn’t let him down. I was fairly desperate for the money too.

And I still needed to call Sangeeta back. I owed her that much. And I was desperate to see her.

But most of all, I was terrified of becoming Alison and having to face Billy again; because it didn’t matter how much time had gone by or what had happened between us; I still felt weak at the knee when I thought about him, even as a man, the connection was so powerful.

I pulled up outside the address Steve had given me, a two up, two down terrace. I cut the engine.

I had to go in and do the job at the very least. That was a definite. In all the years I’d been running my contracting business I’d never pulled out of as job; never even taken a sick day. I wasn’t about to start now.

I got out of my van, grabbed my tools, slammed the door and crossed the street to his front gate.