“There’s Ricky.”
“Okay, you have to deal with Ricky.”
“What about Peter?”
“What about him?”
“Dad, I think I love him, I can’t lie to him.”
“You must do what you think is right. By doing this, we are getting you to be Swedish, as well as English, so we can formally adopt you as our daughter.”
“Dad, I am your daughter, how can you adopt me?”
“We’re not adopting you, we’re adopting Kayla Olsen.”
“Huh?”
“Look, what is the main problem, is it the gender issue, or the identity issue?”
Kayla shrugged.
“I’m not sure. If everyone knew that I was Kyle Manning, the gender issue, I suppose. I can see how they’d make life really difficult. It’s not something you can do and expect life to go on as usual, is it? But with Pete it’s the identity issue. I don’t want to live a lie any more.”
“Sweetie, you started this, so you have to see it through. You tell him what you like. If it’s the truth, you have to be prepared for his reaction, and the fact that everyone else may get to know. What we hope to do is find a permanent middle way. And once done, it leaves you open to tell the truth to those you trust, in the fullness of time!”
“Which is?”
“Let’s wait until after the interview,” he said, looking at his watch. “We should get going soon, do you want to change?”
“In other words, you don’t like what I’m wearing.”
“No, you look fine, but I’m not sure the Consul will be impressed with grass on your arse!”
She brushed the offending anatomy with her hands, blushing delightfully.
“Why don’t you put on what you were going to wear to the party?”
“I wasn’t going, Daddy, I really don’t feel like it!”
“Trust me; you just might in a couple of hours.”
They arrived at the consulate at exactly six pm. Kayla was wearing a sleeveless black dress, the hem of which came down to her knees. With high heels and a white jacket, she looked stunning.
Lens Petersen wasn’t sure what he expected, but it certainly wasn’t this tall and exceptionally attractive young woman. As her mother and grandmother entered his office, he instantly saw the family resemblance. Ingrid he’d met before, but as mother and daughter stood side by side, they looked remarkably similar.
Both had fair hair and high cheekbones, with slim, athletic figures and in Kayla’s case, chillingly blue eyes. Kayla was slightly taller, yet along side her very large father, she seemed willowy by comparison. He tried very hard to see any trace of masculinity, yet failed miserably.
He half expected an androgynous creature, whose strange genetic condition caused a sort of neither-nor person. Once he established that this was not a gender issue, but an identity crisis, he was able to focus on the task at hand. Understanding completely the types of problem that this young woman would have to face in the town in which she had grown up as a boy, he began to appreciate fully the reasons they now gathered in his office.
However, as he settled down and began to question her about her situation, she surprised him further by replying in fluent Swedish, despite his questions being in English. Lens had lived in the United Kingdom for nearly ten years, yet he could hardly discern a trace of English accent in Kayla’s speech. Only some of the words she used gave away the fact she was not a native-born Swede.
He switched to Swedish, asking her about her past, her current studies and her ambitions for the future. Jake was the only one unable to follow the conversation, but his wife and mother-in-law could only marvel at the fluency with which Kayla replied and the whole manner in which she conducted herself.
In the course of the interview, Lens went from trying to decide how to turn these people down, to seeking to assist them in any way he could.
Finally, ending the interview, he asked the family to wait in the antechamber so he could consult with an aide. The consultation took only fifteen minutes, yet the family were on edge by the time he called them back into the office.
“Mr Manning. I have consulted with the Ambassador and his chief adviser on immigration affairs. I am pleased to inform you that your request has been granted, so your daughter has been granted Swedish nationality. Owing to the unusual circumstances, I believe that it is in the interests of both your daughter and our respective countries that we give Kayla a chance at starting over afresh. I am satisfied that she is a bright and intelligent young woman, who will be an asset to whichever country she eventually decides to call her home.
“Many such decisions are made for humanitarian, political, religious or economic reasons. This one is personal, yet for all the best reasons. Congratulations, Miss Olsen. I understand you wish to adopt your grandmother’s maiden name in the short term?”
Kayla stood stunned, as the truth of the situation dawned on her.
“Y-y-yes please.”
“Excellent, then if you would just pop next door, my associate will complete some papers while I talk to your parents.”
The family returned home, arriving at twenty past seven. Kayla had possession of her naturalization papers, stating she was Kayla Olsen, a Swedish National. Her passport was to be delivered in ten to fourteen days, but she was still stunned at the events. She was surprised to see Richard Stephenson, the family solicitor waiting in his Mercedes outside their address.
She walked into the house in which she had grown up. She felt very strange. A new beginning was being handed to her, one in which she could literally forget her past.
However, she did not actually want to.
Some may have felt bitter and twisted about never being allowed to be the person they should have been. Some may have felt anger at being denied their real self for so long. Kayla felt none of these emotions. She felt an overwhelming sense of love for the people who had done nothing but love her for who she was, regardless of outward signs or inward turmoil. They had never stopped loving her throughout all the problems.
Kayla knew from her research that some families had used violence against their transgendered children; others had hounded them out of their homes into a brutal and unforgiving world.
Jake took out a large and legal looking piece of paper.
“Miss Olsen, as your natural parents died in tragic circumstances, would you agree to become a member of this family here in England?” he asked in a mock-formal voice.
“I’d be honoured, sir,” she replied, her Swedish accent very obvious.
“Sign here, please.”
She signed, as did all the family. The document was counter-signed by Richard, who was shaking his head and grinning like an idiot.
“Legally this document is relatively superfluous, but as a family document this is sufficient for your needs. Congratulations Jacob, you’ve just adopted your daughter!”
Richard left, still grinning at the lengths some people would go to get what they wanted. He was just driving off when Peter pulled up in his mother’s car.
He rang the doorbell.
Kayla answered.
“I went to your grandmother’s place, as you weren’t in, I thought you might be here. What’s happening?” he asked.
Kayla was smiling from ear to ear. She looked a completely different person compared to the girl he’d seen earlier in the day. She was dressed in a stunning outfit, so he smiled, hopefully.
“Come in. Meet my parents.”
“Your parents are here?” he asked surprised. “I thought they were, you know, dead!”
She pulled him in and introduced him to Jake and Rebecca.
“I live here now, for good. I have English and Swedish nationality, so these are now my parents!”
“I don’t understand,” Pete said.
“You don’t need to. I have now the dual nationality, as I am adopted here.”