My most sincere apologies for troubling everyone who thought this tale was over. It needed a little bit more to take it to the proper place to rest for now.
Sadly the original authoress has burnt out her creative juices, so I have attempted a pastiche of her style and wordplay.
More sincere apologies for the utter lack of erotica in this section. While there was one final physical encounter to describe, I lack the inclination to describe it. Sorry.
The original authoress has also been kind enough to put up with me even using her email address (while she isn't writing replies to feedback. Replies that threaten to exceed the length of her original manuscript, bless her) Hopefully the online archive will place this new epilogue in the correct place.
Please continue to send her feedback. She loves it.
I suspect I am also duty bound to remind you about donation buttons. Consider yourselves reminded, lovely people!
The Sarah flavoured Epilogue
I awoke some impossible measure of time before Leela did. My mind was refusing to let me sleep any longer. There was simply too much to do this morning.
Down the farthest end of the caravan I could hear my parents speaking softly to one another. Their words were smushed together in that intimate way some couples manage after years of affectionate wordplay.
At that thought I couldn't help but look down at the sleeping form of my princess. She sprawled half inside a fleece blanket. One slim waif-like leg stretched out into the chilly dawn of the future. Her hair an impossible cascade of blonde curls around her sleeping face. She couldn't help being a Pre-Raphaelite goddess. Some insanely beautiful dream of Dante Gabriel Rossetti made flesh in a tiny family caravan. How she had ever thought God had intended her to be male confounded me. His accidentally inclusion of a penis was quite obviously for my pleasure, though she had used it deliriously frequently before we met that baking hot afternoon in the woods.
I wanted to lean down and kiss those perfect lips, now parted in the innocence of sleep. The devil part of me wanted to reach under the covers to her secret place. Take that other innocent part of her that had never known mortal woman and take it physically inside of me. My entire body shivered with the idea. I'd not been able to put into words that previous morning why I suddenly needed her actually in me, though bizarrely not in a lustful way. I longed for a symbolic sacrifice of her virginity. For her to be inside another person and step across that softly lit doorway from innocence to womanhood with me. My desires had obviously been sidetracked in cataclysmic fashion by our accidental discovery that the theoretical male g-spot was a reality. Who knew?
I groped under the covers and found a bottle of water. I write these words 15 years and 4 months after that morning, but I can still taste the thirst that previous night's Chinese Meal left behind it.
With the skill of a ninja, I wormed out of bed and out onto the brutally cold vinyl floor. My toes curled up reflexively and I almost cursed the Holy Mother of the Great Zeus that I'd not worn bed socks. Naturally I was low on socks, my entire holiday supply constantly being stuffed into service as breasts. Not that I objected to my lover having a cleavage of pure cotton and wool. I had followed with great delight the change in her body language over our four days together. From the shy shoulders unconsciously hunched forward to hide her new woman's figure, all the way through to the way she now pulled her shoulders back and reveled in her breasts.
I pulled my clothes quietly on and retrieved a little gift I'd asked my parents to buy for Leela the previous day. They had kindly gone back into St Austell and bought a silver Ankh from the shop that helped us transform the shy girl into a luscious vampire princess. I took some paper, envelopes and a pen, putting everything in my shoulder bag. I had a mission and I preferred to do it without Leela being awake.
My parents favoured me with an indulgent look. I smiled back and gestured to the door. My mum nodded and mouthed 'what if she wakes up while you are gone?' in almost unreadable lip movements. "Don't worry. I won't be out for very long!" I said in a low voice.
I almost chose to take the beach route to Leela's little tent. That path we had walked so often together. At the last instant I couldn't face it. I walked instead the route through the anonymous rows of caravans and tents. Feeling a jealousy for those new Friday arrivals who would be sharing Leela for a week more than I would.
I reached Leela's tent and up-zipped the entrance. Her neglected sleeping bag and pillow were the only visible things inside. I crawled in backwards and lay for a moment facing out into the view she had enjoyed for the first few days of her holiday. Pulling the writing stuff from my bag, I wrote seven little notes for each of the days we wouldn't wake up together. I then wrote a letter for today. It went something like this
...
My dearest kindred soul, I suspect that some people wait an entire lifetime to meet a person that makes them feel safe and happy. I am lucky I've only had to wait for you for seventeen years.
However lonely you feel over the next span of days, please remember this mad impossible meeting is only the beginning of sharing our lives. That this separation is temporary. That this heavy feeling in your heart is shared by me as well.
The gift you will find inside the envelope is a Crux Ansata, the Egyptian symbol of Life. It is also the key symbol worn by favourite character in the comic SANDMAN. The many issues of which I will joyfully share with you at some future date.
Though the Egyptian Gods and Goddess' carried the Ankh symbol in ancient hieroglyphic illustrations, denoting Eternal Life (so the current theory goes.) I've given it to you to remind you that life is brief, a fleeting whisper on the surface of eternity. Enjoy it and all it's joys, whether I am here beside you or not.
I promise I will be beside you again next Saturday. Waiting in Shrewsbury Train Station, drinking bad British Rail Tea and feasting on overpriced toast. You will taste both as we kiss without breathing for the following two hundred years.
Yours, until such time as you grow weary of me and blast me into space (paraphrased from where?)
Strawberry Fields Forever, my love.
Sarah xxx
I slipped the note into the envelope and added the Ankh on it's little chain. My mouth was dry again, probably nerves rather than last night's feast of MSG on this occasion. I struggled to generate some spit to seal the envelope. My frustration at this inability to produce saliva caused me to start to cry. A sudden hopelessly romantic notion of sealing the gum strip of the envelope with my tears occurred to me. I wiped my face with my fingers, collecting as much of the moisture as I could. I rubbed along the evil smelling gum and succeeded in sticking my fingers to it. This hopeless comic moment stopped me crying and I found myself laughing at the silliness of the 'sealed with tears' idea. Unpeeling my fingers, I tried to stubbornly close the envelope. It stuck for a moment and then sprang open again.
"Here is your conflict for the final chapter, my lovely dramatist!" I said out loud through gritted teeth. "Girl versus Envelope!" I surrendered to the concept of just tucking the lip of the damned thing inside itself. Twisting myself around I propped the letter and it's seven sisters on Leela's pillow. Crawling backwards I exited the tent.
Feeling braver now, I took the beach front route back to my family's caravan. I had a weird expectation I was going to meet Leela walking toward me. Some version of a woman's intuition told me she would be up and looking for me. Obviously my own transgender intuition wasn't anything to compare to genuine 'genetic female' intuition, for Leela was still fast asleep when I crept back inside the caravan.
I filled the kettle with water and clicked the lighter on the tiny hob. It flared into life with that unique smell anyone who has ever camped will remember. I heard a shuffling sound behind me and thought that Leela had finally woken up. It was Claire however, fresh from sleep, and a bleary eyed morning monster. She wordlessly wrapped her arms around me in a sisterly hug that squished my insides so hard it made me cry yet again. She didn't waste words at the sight of my tears, but squeezed me even tighter. She was, and is, freakishly strong for a human being and I puzzled why Leela had neglected to mention that third eye throughout her version of this story.
"I am honestly okay, deep down." I said. I was feeling rather embarrassed at my vulnerability.
"Deep down?" Claire asked, always one to do the therapist paraphrase when she couldn't think of a decent question.
"Where it really counts .. in the region of my eternal soul." I might have said in my best tortured teen voice. This made her laugh rather too loudly. We both glanced down at the twisted inflatable bed.
"She has been so many princess archetypes this week," Claire sagely said, "I think she is going for Sleeping Beauty today."
"Thank you, Professor Jung." I mumbled to conceal the laughter I didn't want to release. I began to have an excellent plan that involved not mentioning Leela oversleeping and just piling things on top of her. Maybe we could accidentally take her back to North Wales. Once over the Welsh border claim political asylum for her. I was forced to admit one of the many things Leela and I shared was a rich inner life that helps us avoid reality.
Mum begins to throw a hearty last breakfast together in the tiny kitchen area. The smell of warm pitta bread and spiced poached eggs with fresh black pepper wafts down to the inflatable bed. Leela begins to stir and I can't resist joining her in the twisted bouncy castle of a bed. My joyful weight's sudden addition to her inflatable universe causes her to awaken in a much ruder fashion than I intend. I make up for it with a bewildering volley of kisses that no sane person would resist. Leela fights back, but I will not be resisted.
"I love you!" she finally says, hoping this admission will slow my passion. Instead it inflames my desire to get at least one hand inside my spare nightdress. A nightdress that is currently hugging the desirable body of my girlfriend.
"I know!" I reply, this time deliberately quoting Han Solo's immortal line from Empire Strikes Back. "Lets get frozen in Carbonite together!" I sexily suggest.
Our frantic cuddling doesn't go unobserved. Claire begins to make retching noises and I am forced to admit that we might need to get up and join in breakfast. Leela pulls on a baggy jumper over the nightdress. With her hair tangled from sleep and not yet fully awake I find her vulnerability almost heartbreaking.
Dad clicks on the radio to a local pop station. The sound of the SPICE GIRLS singing "Goodbye" causes an immediate chorus of abuse from everyone. He twists the dial to search for something else and a weird French pop station seems to appear from out of the ether. Since Mum and Dad don't speak a lot of French the music just becomes background fluff. Claire and I are fluent enough to understand how rude and surreal much many of the song lyrics are. We find ourselves laughing at the cheesy europop. Sadly Leela doesn't speak a word of French and the joke is lost on her. While I need the distraction of something to keep me from thinking about our departure, I hate that I can't share this with her.
"Why don't we go for a walk?" I suggest. Leela nods while mopping up runny egg yolk with a piece of pitta. A bit of stray egg is stuck to her cheek. I want to kiss it off, but manage to restrain myself. Mum appears with a large laundry bag filled with clothes. While I think these are just the items I've picked out to leave behind, I notice new clothing in shop bags neatly layered on top.
"I couldn't resist when we visited St Austell yesterday." Mum says to Leela. "Just a few things to get you started. I've left receipts inside if anything doesn't suit you or you need to return it." This is the act of kindness I should have expected my mum to do, but it catches me off balance. Leela tries to say thank you, but she is suddenly crying and the words get mangled. Mum hugs her and begins crying herself. I'm about three seconds behind mum and even Claire doesn't remain stoic. Dad holds up his hands in surrender and quietly slips outside. The pride of Lionesses aren't afraid to hunt together, but they also aren't afraid to hurt together either.
Claire takes this time to tearfully bid farewell to Leela. I think she suspects she might have another tearful farewell from Ryan as we leave and doesn't want the two to mingle. She has her promise to take Ryan to the shop for his comics, and slides away into the morning sunshine.
We carry the laundry bag between us back to the Brown Caravan. Both holding a handle and supporting the weight. Leela is also carrying a bag of boots and shoes.
"So you have enough clothing to last you several weeks." I say, as a way of complaining about the weight of the bag indirectly.
"Your mum is so kind," Leela replied, missing out on the subtle subtext in my words. We were doing everything to avoid facing the evil that 11.30 on the clock represented. We'd left Mum and Dad packing and securing the caravan. Lucky for caravan owners packing up tends to be just throwing everything inside the van and locking the door. The awning is tricky to take down, but not being very tall or strong means I get to avoid wrestling with that hideous orange beast.
We arrived at Leela's family caravan. Her mum was outside and watched us stagger under the new wardrobe her daughter was bringing home.
"At least Ryan will stop complaining about your old hand-me-downs now!" she said. Ryan is nowhere to be seen and I fear for the Camp Shop and the additional weight in comics he is guilting Claire into buying. I worry that under the weight of new clothes and comics the Brown family car will explode and they will be trapped in Cornwall forever.
"I'm just going to put these in the tent, Mum." Leela says, lifting the bag to indicate what she was talking about. I nearly groan as the load lurches toward me. I have a sudden fear that she will find my note and gift early. "Wouldn't it be better to store them in the caravan?" I feverishly suggest. "You aren't going to have enough room to sleep if you store them in the tent, are you?"
"Good point." She said. I breathed a sigh of relief that might have been audible from nearby Somerset.
"You okay?" Leela asked me.
"Just tired of holding this massive bag and feeling a little sad that I won't see you wearing any of the new things until next Saturday!" I pouted, hopefully endearingly.
"New things?!" Leela's mum took an interest, with a proper Lioness lust for the fresh kill. She helped us carry the bag inside the Caravan.
We've only an hour left before I am expected to present myself for Volvo backseat duty. The mighty Swedish motor will roar our goodbye and I am going to see this beautiful face crumble. I can't bear it and I tell her so.
"I almost don't want you to see us off!" I say. Leela looks at me like I've shot her. I don't know how I can explain the turbulence going on in my head.
"Why?" she asks. "It is going to kill me." I say.
We have walked up to the place she calls Secret View. I have a vision of her sat here all week feeling sad. I want something joyful between us before I leave.
"Do you want to make love?" I ask.
"Yes, no .. I don't really know." she answers with a catch in her voice.
We hold each other like we are clinging to a life raft. Without wanting the image to surface in my mind I can't help having Jack and Rose from Titanic appear. My memory for quotes pushes Jack's line "Listen, Rose. You're gonna get out of here, you're gonna go on and you're gonna make lots of babies, and you're gonna watch them grow. You're gonna die an old... an old lady warm in her bed, not here, not this night. Not like this, do you understand me?" and I nearly tell Leela the quote. Remind her that she is going to get out here before I slip into the icy blackness of the A 40 road. I find the entire scene playing out in my brain. The curse of being a movie geek and having a memory that won't quit. I hold her and I let Jack's other line run through me. "Winning that ticket, Rose, was the best thing that ever happened to me... it brought me to you. And I'm thankful for that, Rose. I'm thankful. You must do me this honor. Promise me you'll survive. That you won't give up, no matter what happens, no matter how hopeless. Promise me now, Rose, and never let go of that promise." God, I don't even like that blasted movie that much. I kiss Leela.
"Never let go." I say.
"I'll never let go, Sarah, I'll never let go!" she replies and we both collapse into helpless and hopeless giggles.
The Sun has the bloody decency to go behind a cloud as my Dad finishes hitching the Knight Caravan to the back of the car.
Claire and Ryan say goodbye. She promises him they will have a day out in Liverpool very soon. Ryan has the beach towel pinned around his waist again. For this goodbye he needs to be the Princess of Darkness. The Princess has special powers and can't be killed, even by her fellow War Puppy's departure. Claire has pinned a collection of plastic spiders and other creatures over the towel. I would love to be a fly on the wall of the Brown caravan when Ryan and Leela return.
Leela and I share one final hug before I climb into the car. We hold each other and I feel her trembling. Or is that me?
"I've reached a decision about my name." She says.
"What about it?" I ask, not expecting this conversation right now.
"Much as I have loved being Leela, the Fawn Princess, the Russian Countess and Vampire Princess, I want an identity that is mine and speaks back to the original little girl I've tried hard not to listen to for years."
"And?" I can see my parents and Claire waiting in the car. Bless them for not rushing this moment and being lovely enough to give a couple of teenagers the space they need.
"And, when I arrived in secondary school our new English teacher asked us what books we had read over the summer. As we left our old life in the juniors behind and waiting for the exciting new world to begin. Lots of the kids hadn't read a thing. They just weren't interested in reading. A few people shared books they obviously thought sounded cool or hip. When it reached my turn I made the hideous social faux pas of telling this class of horrible snotty kids that I had read Alice In Wonderland and Heidi over the summer."
"Merciful Osiris, how did they react?" I whispered.
"They laughed themselves stupid and the teacher joined in." She said. "I didn't know what to say. I'd loved both those books desperately and I know now they spoke to the little girl inside me."
"They are beautiful, innocent, magical books." I said.
"So I had two choices for my name, the name I want to carry into my new life." she said. "Alice or Heidi ... and this morning I picked."
"Heidi," I guessed.