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At last! I think I just didn't want to finish the story. What do you do when you know you've done a good job; drawn characters that you want to live; created a story that you don't want to end? And then, with it starting so well, can the finish ever live up to the expectation? I always knew it would end this way, the story was always drawn out this way, but so many times I wanted to change it. Still, finally, I got it down, and hopefully the way it needs to be. I hope you find it that way. Love, Callie. P.S. I took some liberties. I know. You understand... ***************************************************************** Thirty six thousand feet above Russia. The flight to Hong Kong from London passed above surprisingly unvaried geography. Water, Russia, China. Not Tiffany, not Georgina, but now Megan Jeffries sat in the window seat on row thirty one, deep into the economy section of the aircraft. I had time on my hands, and a thousand and one things running through my mind. I didn't wake, but roused, slowly, the morning after the Chinese Embassy party. Harry was there to help me up, and had breakfast in front of me before my patchy memory and functioning would even allow me to grasp where I was. "The events go like this," Harry explained, "you arrived home and he was already here, waiting for you. He knew where you'd been and when you'd arrive home. You didn't have a chance to activate the alarms, and he proceeded to work on you undisturbed for the next few hours. He left in the early hours of the morning. David noticed that you weren't up for work and came over to knock the door. When you didn't answer he called me." "So he got me." "Aye, lass, he got you." "And now he's out of the country?" "We tracked him to Heathrow, and he departed from there to Hong Kong." "Everything hurts!" "By all accounts you're probably feeling a bit of a human pincushion right now. He doped you with plenty of painkillers for it." "That explains why I don't really feel like I'm here at the moment. Did you mention a letter?" "Aye," Harry replied, reaching into his coat pocket and pulling out a folded sheet of paper. He unfolded it and showed me the Chinese lettering scribbled on in biro. "I faxed it over to a mate in SOAS before you woke. Roughly it says 'my orders were big but I am an artist. Voluptuous is its own beauty. Pain tablets are needed but it will be worth it.'" He folded the note back up. "So I've been sculpted." "Aye." I smiled at Harry. He smiled back. I only took two days off from work. The evening before returning I travelled down to Chalk Farm to surprise Hayley. "Oh my God! Georgie! I saw the note that you were ill. What's wrong? What are you doing here? What have you done to your hair?" "Can I come in?" "Shit, yeah! Sit your ass down on the sofa and I'll get you a drink. Did you bring a toothbrush?" "Toothbrush?" "Yeah, that and a change of panties for the morning?" She smiled and ran off to the kitchen. She returned with two glasses of something iced, fizzing and dark, with a slight hint of alcohol in the scent. But before she allowed me to take a sip she leaned into me and planted her lips on mine. She backed up slightly after a second, then planted her glass in my free hand so that I was holding both of them. Expecting her to get up I took it. But she didn't get up. She smiled and put her hands onto my sides just below my breasts, then started to kiss down the side of my face and onto my neck. I protested. "Hayley! I'm going to spill these!" She stopped for a moment. "You'd better not. This sofa is bloody expensive!" Then she carried on nuzzling into my neck and raised her hands slowly up around my breasts and began to fondle them. I stayed as still as I could, unable to move forward to put the glasses down anywhere. Finally she stopped and took her glass from me. She tapped it against mine with a clink and then sipped. After I'd had a sip she took both glasses and put them on the table behind her. "Hayley," I said, before she was able to take control of my lips again, "I need to tell you something." "Oh," she replied, stopping to give me a peck on the lips, "sounds serious!" "It might be. I hope not too serious, but please hear me out." She climbed up off my knees and sat down next to me. "Firstly, Hayley, I'm falling for you." I watched her face light up. "I say that because if I don't tell you everything now, it may be too late. You need to know things before you and I go any further." I watched her face turn serious. "My name isn't Georgina Somersby. It's Tiffany Michaels. I got my job under a pseudonym with the intention of getting information about the bank that I couldn't get hold of from the outside." "What? I don't understand. You're pretending to be someone else? Why?" "Hayley, you're a smart woman, driven too. If a company did you wrong, would you try to get your own back?" "I don't know. Did the bank do something to you?" "Not the bank, but the owner, so I had to get in to learn some things." "So you wanted to learn from me too?" I paused. Just slightly too long. "You did want to learn from me too." She slumped back into her seat. I let her have her moment. "I somehow think I should be really offended," she said, staring up at the ceiling, "but I'm just not getting that. So, you're trying to be open with me, and I should let you carry on before judging anything. Carry on. Does it get worse or better?" I took another sip of my drink. "It depends on you, I guess," I turned to face her, sitting more on the edge of the sofa. "This is all me, now, and I'm being completely honest so that you can make a decision on us based on all the facts. "First, I realised that I could use your help the moment I found out about you. Everything was lucky about us, and I allowed you to seduce me, helped you to in fact. But all the while I was thinking about how much I wanted you to do it, rather than how much I needed you to do it. I kept telling myself I was using you, but that was just covering over the fact that I was falling for you. "How did I help you along? I have another job, evenings and weekends. It pays very well and I've had training in how to 'interest' my clients. So that's the second thing you need to know. No sex, but I work as an escort." "How can you work as an escort and not have sex? Men pay you to date them. You're a prostitute." I winced slightly. I saw Hayley soften slightly and go to lift her hand towards me, but held it back. "An agency pays me to attend functions either as a hostess or, as you say, as a date for specific people. I don't accept money from men, and I don't sleep with clients. I have slept with men, and I had a boyfriend before I met you. "I do sell my body for money, but I don't sell sex for money. My body is used to decorate men, in public, not in private. The money is very good, and I use it to fund my family and my campaign against the bank's owner." Tiffany moved up to the edge of the sofa in order to face me. "You're an industrial spy, and you're an escort but not a prostitute. Very glamorous. You need the money and the information for some kind of revenge against the bank owner. You seduced me in order to use me." "Simply, yes." "But that isn't all, is it? I mean, you haven't told me why you want to get the information or why you need the money. What's it all for? What is the revenge for?" "Okay," I looked up at the ceiling, or maybe further beyond it. "That was the easy part, and now it gets harder," I looked back at Hayley. I didn't wait for her to be ready for it. "I'm a man." Wait. Then a longer wait. A gamut of expressions running through her eyes. Then, "No you're not. I've seen all of you. Everything. Touched you, felt you, experienced you. I've talked to you and slept with you. You're a woman. What would make you say that? Do you want to be a man?" I smiled softly at that last question. "Yes, I do want to be a man, I think, again. Less than a year ago I was a man. I'm not really a lesbian, or even bi, I simply fancy women as any straight man would. "What you see before you is the result of surgery that I didn't ask for, performed by the woman that owns the company that owns your bank." She looked into my eyes, holding my gaze, questioning. Then "I don't believe you. I've never liked a man, never slept with a man, never even kissed a man. I can't fall for a man. Men are manipulative and underhanded. They seduce women for fun and personal gain, and lie about who they are. Women care, and are honest and open, even in the most difficult of circumstances, with the most difficult of news." "Hayley, I don't understand. What are you saying?" She stood up, and strolled towards the kitchen with her glass. She leaned on the table, looked towards me. "A man would use people for personal gain, and I can see that there would be reasons for it. It's selfish, but sometimes it does have to be done. People accuse me of climbing the corporate ladder without care for the rungs I tread on, but it's not true. I'm in HR because I care, but I'm also good and do want to be respected for ability, who I am not what I am. "Georgie, or Tiffany, or whoever you are, you have to leave. I'm sure that a man has to finish what they start or they can't be content. So go, get your revenge, if you can. And then decide who you are, instead of what you are. If you think it's the answer I want, call me. Please." Who you are instead of what you are. But it's not that easy, is it? Is a man - sorry, a person - the sum of his actions? Is he or she defined by the impressions of others, or by the connections with others? Is a man an island, understanding all others only as reflections of his understanding of himself? Is a person defined by the body they inhabit? No, because there are people out there who are unhappy in the body they inhabit, some changing it in small ways, some determined that they were born into the wrong body, and they feel this strongly enough that they can battle with the impressions of others, knowing that those impressions, that treatment, is wrong. It is a long, hard battle, but inner convictions will win if they are strong enough. So gays will come out of the closet, and there are transgendered people who will change their sex through surgery to become the people they are sure they are. But surely there are people who don't go to those extremes. Perhaps those who don't have the strength and assuredness of their convictions. Bisexual people don't make the news because they don't upset anyone by coming out in favour of the 'wrong' sexuality. Perhaps there are people who are just a bit transgendered, and could be happy enough either way. Is it possible that I was one of these, able to cope with being a woman? Or was I completely convinced that I was a man, enough to make the change back? Was I just protesting that I was a man, yet I didn't have the courage of my convictions? Maybe I didn't have the courage to become that which Jan warned me about becoming long ago, half a man. My actions used to define me as a man, but now my actions, mostly, defined me as a woman. And those actions felt natural. Some were a direct result of my new body, a lack of male hormones and their replacement with female hormones surely causing a toning down in my competitiveness and aggression. Some were a result of training and practice, or drug fuelled instruction. Some were because other people expected certain actions of me, and I indulged them. Maybe the question was really much simpler. Why did anyone care whether I was a man inside, if I didn't look like one or act like one? Nobody did. So simply for my own sake was I going to become a physical man again? I read the paper. The business pages were what interested me. An opinion column held a reference to Lucy's company and the impact that a small number of contract issues were having. A real-estate mogul in the US had pushed up his price on a string of hospitals that the healthcare arm was interested in and rumour had it that he'd heard that the company was sitting on more cash than it was revealing. A Central European roadside vehicle recovery company had pulled out of negotiations with the insurance arm citing 'differences'. The UK branch of the banking arm was thankful that a disk containing the details of nearly 300,000 customers had been returned from wherever it was discovered, the anonymous source claiming finding it on a train. The result was a loss of confidence in the city, followed by the same on the Hang Seng. Yet the dip, though initially severe, was just a blip, as within a day or so a number of buyers had spotted what was obviously a run of misfortune in a company that was still solid in the fundamentals. The opinion reckoned that the shares were a hold, in spite of the recent issues. I watched a film. Exactly as I had done when taking the flight in the opposite direction I watched a Cantonese Chop Socky flick, and followed the language with barely a missed word. Not that it was difficult! Film dialogue doesn't get much simpler than 'you killed my brother's mother-in-law's favourite cow, now you die!' I laughed my way through most of it, and received understanding smiles from the older guy sitting at the other end of my row, an empty chair between us. I reflected on that last flight, compared what I could remember of it. The unease, the self-inspection, the disconcerting thoughts that everyone could see through me. The urge and my first satisfaction of it. Oh, there were some things that I was very comfortable with now, that were even enjoyable. There were the rude men, commenting on me in Chinese, and my ability to understand what they were saying, along with my surprise at my new ability. Mostly, the strongest emotion as that flight continued, there was my fear. Fear at what I would discover at the other end. Fears that eventually, though over a long time, had proven well founded. Jan had tried, but she couldn't cope, and that had led gradually to the end of us. Yet what would happen when I managed to remove the millstone that hung around my neck? What would happen when I didn't have to worry about Lucy anymore, when her threats and desires to control me were all in the past? Could I return to an acceptable job, living a nine-to-five life, with time for my children and my soon-to-be-ex wife? Regardless of what Jan and I had together in any future relationship, there had to be a relationship for the sake of our children. I was their father, and Richard's step-father, and the circumstances didn't change that. The circumstances simply changed our relationships. If I were given the quality time that I would have to spend, those relationships could be good again. I just had to get Lucy to stop. So there was fear again at the end of this flight. Could she know I was coming? Could I get to the people I needed to see? Could I face her down and get any semblance of revenge, because I knew there was little chance of putting myself in her hands to change back again. I hoped she didn't know I was coming. One person was waiting for me at the airport. Gloria. I'd asked her to join me in the city. She'd travelled out some days before me and looked like she was enjoying herself, her large brimmed hat and Jackie O sunglasses made her look every inch the wealthy social expat. She airkissed me in arrivals and ordered me into a taxi. On the way to the Mandarin Oriental she filled me in on what she'd found out. Lucy, her work, her home, her exact office location, her telephone numbers, addresses, and general daily routine. John, his home, which was Lucy's home, and general in and out time with a further little bit of detail on evening routine. John was obviously a lot more difficult to track, even for the locals that Gloria had employed. Most simply this was due to the people constantly around him, but also because by nature he travelled ostentatiously at times, and covertly at others, and rarely maintained a routine. There was also the fact that Gloria's people were genuinely concerned about being discovered. What was quickly discovered about John was the interesting fact that no other women appeared in his life. Most nights he was at home with Lucy, though the times would vary, and when he wasn't it was usually verifiable. One night he spent with an old couple at their home, presumed to be his parents, and one other at a fight that carried on until the early hours of the morning, from which he returned to his business premises. Certainly he went to parties, both with and without Lucy, and certainly he entertained at some gentlemen's establishments, but he appeared to be a faithful husband. My jet-lag helped in one way. It meant I was wide awake in the late evening and into the night. In the late afternoon, not too long after waking, I took a taxi to a small square just off the Des Voeux Road. At the side of a fairly plush looking office building, with a fashionable shoe shop facing the square, a set of steps led down to a solid wooden door set back under an arched passageway. The passage allowed a small group to be unnoticeable from the top of the stairs whilst they waited for the door to open. Next to the door was an entryphone, the most prominent button labelled for the club whilst others were labelled with the names of what I recognised mostly as the club managers. I tried the club button first, and was quite surprised when I heard the crackle of the speaker a few moments later. "How may I help you?" Came the tinny voice in Cantonese. "I'm looking for Sue Wan. She told me to meet her here." "Sue Wan?" The crackle sounded a little confused. "She's not here for another hour or so. Are you here to try out?" "No, to meet Sue Wan. Do you have her number maybe?" "I'm sorry, I can't give you that. Would you like to come inside to wait?" I thought for a moment. At some stage I was going to have to go in, and at some stage I wanted to be recognised anyway, but I had to find all of the old gang. Why not? No-one would be expecting me. "Yes, please. Perhaps you could call Sue Wan for me inside?" There was a buzz and the door opened with a slight click. I pushed and went inside. The girl standing at the desk looked at me curiously, probably because she expected a Hongkee rather than a gwaipor from the language we conversed in. However she quietly set about dialling as I waited, and then handed me the phone as it started to ring through to the other end. As I took the handset I wondered at the lack of security, with this girl on her own at the desk opening the door. I could have come through with a gang. Of course, though, she had monitors behind the desk, and I remembered that the desk could see not only the door, but the stairs and most of the square too. If she was working at the desk she would have seen me coming almost from the moment I stepped out of the taxi. So the curiosity was something else. I didn't recognise her, which most likely meant she didn't recognise me, so maybe it was just plain curiosity. Finally the phone was answered by a machine, and Sue Wan's voice asking me to leave a message. I gave the receiver back. "She's not at home," I explained. I sat and waited under the watchful eye of the girl. Soon the working women began to trickle in. The first two I didn't recognise. The third was Tina Lee. I got up from my chair and walked up to her as she signed in at the desk. She looked up as she felt my approach. The recognition lit up her face instantly, to be momentarily later tempered by concern. "Tiffany! What are you doing here!" She wrapped her arms around me in a friendly hug. As she did so she whispered in my ear. "Did she send you back?" "No, she didn't," I whispered in return. Tina released me and leaned back with a big smile on her face. "Come on through to the dressing rooms! We've got to catch up!" She introduced me to Cloud, a very young looking duty manager, on the way through the club to the private rooms. "Do you want to work tonight?" She asked me just after we left Cloud. The thought hadn't really occurred to me. "The managers were distraught when you suddenly left. Nobody knew why but we figured it was something to do with 'her'," She almost spat the last word out. "She doesn't come here but John does. He doesn't do anything with us except watch, but his goons do. Anyway, he's not here tonight, so you could earn yourself some pocket money?" I mulled it over. If I was working I could spend all night with the girls, and potentially appear less out of place than if I was just visiting with them. But on the flip side I really wasn't sure about spending a night stripping after leaving it behind me so long ago. Yet I couldn't find it in me to really mind. Something seemed to come back to me about earning money being a good thing, so I found myself saying yes to the proposition. "Great!" Tina almost squealed. She steered me back to Cloud and told her that I was going to work the night, re-introducing me as an old employee. Cloud took us over to the office and checked through the list, and asked me what music I preferred, how many slots I could do and what level of work I was prepared to do in the private rooms. Tina pulled me some clothing off the rails in the dressing room. "Do you get the urge?" she asked me. I took a bikini set off her and a dark green shift dress. "I do get an urge," I told her. "If you mean an urge for sex with men, then it's the same urge." "Yes," she nodded. "We all get it. I think it might be the worst thing." She paused as I slipped the clothing on. "I used to have many girlfriends, and I loved to be with them. I maybe was with Lucy for three months, but I had other girlfriends too even then... So this need to be with a man?" She shrugged and looked distant. "It's destroying me," she said softly. She looked at me, penetratingly. "There are four of us still here, nobody left after you did. Having each other has been so helpful, but who have you had? Where have you been? Are there others?" I shook my head. "No others that I know of. It was just me and my family." "Family?" she interrupted with concern. "Yes, wife and three children. Lucy sent me back to the waiting arms of my wife, then she tried to do the same to me there as she's done to you here - keep me working in a strip joint where she can keep her eye on me." Tina smiled weakly. "I don't think she kept us here, really. We stayed. Maybe it's easiest for both parties. We earn good money and it feels easy to do this work. Then there's the urges. Here it's clean. Regular testing, and condoms only for the men, all provided. Susie had a boyfriend for a while, but though she took a few days off here and there, she didn't leave. He left her. She seemed to find it more satisfying here. Simpler, maybe. "You know it. We were trained to be dancers and strippers." I nodded. "When you asked me if I wanted to work here tonight it felt right somehow, and I have this almost competitive desire to earn money." "I know that too!" She laughed. "We all see who earns the most by the end of each night. May was so desperate to win that one night she took five different men up to the apartments above us. Five! She couldn't walk properly the next morning, but she was the first to take one the next night." I nodded in understanding. "The urge," I said. "The more you indulge it, the stronger it seems to get." She nodded too. At that moment Sue Wan walked through the door. She took one look at me then strode towards me with her arms wide. "Tiffany!" I hugged her back. When we parted I asked a question of them both. "Girls, the hugs?" "Oh," Sue Wan replied as she threw her bag down next to the dressing table, "we all hug our greetings all the time, all the girls. It's normal. And it seems like you just left, even though..." she took on a slightly faraway look, "...even though it seems like we never really met." Tina agreed. "We seemed to come around just after you left, and yet we all spoke of you as if we'd all known you well, and I still remember that we spent a lot of time here together before you left. We became, sort of, lucid, I guess. We all had great impressions of you, and no 'ghost woman' has worked here since, at least, not on the permanent staff. Only us Asians. Those that we have met have been, well, arrogant, basically. They come here expecting to take all the men, instead of expecting the men to take them. I think they're often disappointed when they find the men appreciating us at least as much as them. You, well, I simply remember you being one of us. Of all the memories I have since... well, you know, since then, at least that is a decent one to have, don't you think?" I smiled. "I remember waking up, in this dressing room, and realising that you were all my friends. I knew we were a group even then, which is why I've come back to you. And you confirmed it, Tina Lee, you girls, Susie, and May, all went through the same thing I did, done by the same, spiteful woman. So, what are we going to do about it?" Spending the evening at the club working was more than fulfilling even, it was enjoyable. Susie and May came in later, as it began to fill, and both were happy to see me, though May less than the others. Whilst there had always been less of a bond between us, there was definitely a bond of shared experience, and so whilst May was more reserved, there was nothing awkward between us. I learned that she had been Lucy's first boyfriend, a High School sweetheart, and assumed that she had taken her virginity. She and Lucy had simply grown apart, and May had only just been married to her second girlfriend for a few months when she was abducted from the street. She was too embarrassed to contact her wife or family and so following the abduction she was declared missing and presumed dead. For May, the club and the girls were all she had. Sue Wan had been single when taken from his apartment. Lucy's second boyfriend, there had been talk of getting engaged even as the relationship slowly fell apart. He had decided to end it before anything went further. As Sue he had returned to his family, but being unable to evade Lucy as easily as I had managed he remained working in the club, and his family's disapproval turned to dismissal. Sue and Tina shared Sue's old apartment. From the stolen looks between them there was more there than just sharing an apartment. In one way it made sense, with each still preferring what the other could offer, yet surely neither could enjoy being constantly reminded of what they had been subjected to? Tina herself was subjected because of being the third boyfriend, or fourth if you counted me in between Sue and Tina. Tina had been thrown out by Lucy after she caught him with another woman. In many ways Susie was the strangest of the exes. As a guy she had been reasonably close to Lucy and her family. This meant that she had been there for Lucy when she had returned from England, and when things went wrong with the guy who became Tina. Reassurance had turned into relationship, but on such a shaky foundation it was never going to last. Lucy lost a friend and a boyfriend at the same time, and Susie remembered clearly a line that Lucy gave her when they broke up. "If you'd been my girlfriend this could never have happened!" Susie's family? Well, they were wealthy, enough to receive the same invitations as Lucy's family, if not actually in the same league. They had bottling and packaging plants, and an arm in pharmaceuticals. Susie had resources, but these were quickly nullified by Lucy shortly after Susie was invited to her house and trapped. Susie had returned to her family, changed, only to find that the family company now belonged to Lucy, and release of the purchase price was contingent on a number of contractual criteria being met, somewhere among these being the non- association of the family with Susie, a woman whose name who held no relevance to the family when their lawyers agreed contracts. Susie had a boyfriend. Perhaps the nature that had made her a good friend for Lucy had allowed her to adapt more completely than others to her change. Wierdest of all though was that Lucy often visited with Susie, or invited her back to her home, or out shopping. To Susie, Lucy had almost apologised, and acted as if she wanted to regain the friendship that the two once had. I couldn't figure what Susie felt about the situation, and I don't think Susie could figure it out for herself, either. But neither could I get Lucy?s parting line out of my head, when assessing her motives ? ?if you?d been my girlfriend?? I took a deep breath. Then another. I looked into the mirror and could see the worry forming in lines around my eyes. I tried to focus on the lingerie selection, but for once when I needed to concentrate on my tits I was looking at my face. Tonight was going to be difficult, really difficult, but if it worked then everything would be easier. The Henna was completely gone. More than that, a visit to the 24th floor salon for most of the day had resulted in platinum blonde hair waving and cascading down to the small of my back. Eyebrow and eyelash tinting had lightened both, and I?d had lash inserts. All over body waxing, brow shaping, and a facial. Finalised by a full evening makeover. I?d spent thousands of dollars. If I had been able to appreciate it, I?m sure I would have said that I looked like I was worth more. The black and white sets that I?d picked out both had gold thread and trim that really went well with my new hair colouring. The light chocolate brown set looked better against my light skin and makeup, and the bra was a better fit. Figuring that it was going to benefit me more to be able to concentrate on what I was doing rather than what I was wearing I went for the chocolate. I slipped on the bra and gently adjusted my breasts to fit in the snug cups. The pull down that stretched the top of my chest became a nice, firm hold across my back and shoulders that seemed to spread the weight. I looked back at the mirror again. Chocolate? Was that really what I wanted? Surely the black would go better with the dress? Which was black, so I threw it back onto the bed and pulled a beige dress out of the wardrobe. It was longer than the black, and the skirt was less form-fitting though it was pencil like. The body covered the chest and back, but revealed the top of the hips at the sides, and there were no sleeves or collar. It was a pullover dress rather than a step in, and I knew I?d make the mistake of putting my arms through the side holes, but I got it right in the end and it dripped down over my hips to the floor. It was right, exactly right for what I wanted. The silver sandals would be mostly covered, and I decided on silver rather than gold jewellery. A watch, no bracelets, earrings, no necklace, and no rings. A final look at myself. Simple, and beautiful. Tits way too big but an otherwise trim body. The flowing hair and loose dress toned down the tits, and brought the eyes to the hips and butt, so there would be loads of sway in my walk tonight. I actually looked younger. I think I?d always looked a little younger than my years, even younger again after the change, but now I had the right look for a business accessory. I tried my new glasses on. Silver arms and frameless rectangular lenses. They did complete the image. I picked up a purse, and an A4 sized, black leather bound notebook, and set off to meet my businessman. Jean-Jacques was waiting in the lobby. His entourage included David, my invisible protector in England, flown over to act as Jean-Jacques? driver. Harry had also sent a guy called Ian, a little younger than David, who looked like he was still in the army, even fitter, squarer, and sharper angled than David. David gave me a wink as I crossed the foyer. Ian goggled. I smiled to myself at his reaction. Jean-Jacques jumped up from his seat. As he did so a man-mountain unfolded from the seat behind him. ?Miss Jeffries," Jean-Jacques greeted me as he took my hand and bent neatly to kiss it. It seemed he had read his background and was taking his part seriously. He gestured at the man-mountain. ?This is Bao, my manservant. Bao, this is Megan Jeffries, my personal assistant.? The mountain moved to take my hand in a surprisingly gentle grip, and manoeuvred it to brush against his lips as he too bowed. ?Enchante, mademoiselle Jeffries." His accent wasn?t French, but something else Asian that I didn?t recognise. ?Merci, monsieur," I responded. Turning to Jean-Jacques I continued in French. ?Are we ready to go, sir?? He smiled and nodded and we headed out to the cars. Mrs. Milner had been the one who took me to the airport. ?Take care, Dear,? she said as we paused in the back of the car, David already retrieving my bags from the boot. ?I know that you and Harry have worked on this together. If he is not unhappy it means it is a good plan. I know he has reservations, but I believe he doesn?t understand fully those areas about which he has reservations. What surprises me, I believe, even after all this time that I?ve been working with you, is that you do understand those areas.? She mulled over her words for a while, holding my hand to indicate that she didn?t want me to go just yet. ?Philip believes that you have reached a balance. He believes that you always were at that balance. I say this because I want you to believe it, that you can be happy as you are. I know he likes you and admires you." She smiled warmly. ?I like you and admire you, and you also entertain me in a good way. I mean, of course, that you are the most interesting of all my girls. I would wish for you to remain the most interesting of my girls. ?I know there are many reasons why that might not happen, so I have to urge you first to be careful. But always be confident in yourself, in what you?ve learned about yourself, in what you?ve become. Confidence more than care will get you through the hardest parts of your next few weeks.? I stepped out of the car quite happy, buoyed that somebody really did care. Dinner first. We could have stayed in the Mandarin Oriental but instead moved to the Island Shangri-La to dine at the Summer Palace. Bao joined us while David and Ian stayed with the cars. I couldn?t get over the size of the guy. He must have been about six foot three or four, as I knew Jean-Jacques was six one. But his shoulders wouldn?t have fitted through a normal door, and there was definitely no neck visible. His chest was rounder than a barrel, but he didn?t appear to have any belly, so not a pure weightlifter, more the bodybuilder type. And his hands were too big even for his hugeness. He had the slight appearance of a gigantic dwarf! Like he should have grown much taller, but was stunted. His Cantonese wasn?t good, but it sounded like he spoke good Mandarin, and the staff were all comfortable with that. He was also very skilled in his manservant role. He was swift to take our coats and barely visible even for his size as we sat at the table. He accompanied the waiters to the kitchen and returned without any fanfare, and inspected all of Jean-Jacques? food without disturbing its approach to our table. There was a tension about him as people stood to leave, or arrived at the door, and yet even though he was stood at Jean- Jacques? back nobody paid any attention to him. We talked briefly about business concerns, and Jean-Jacques filled me in some more on the pertinent areas of his various concerns. At the table I took notes, and wondered how many PAs really got treated to Michelin starred food in exotic locations by their bosses. Finally he caught me looking at Bao. ?He?s Vietnamese. From Lao Cai on the border with China. Hence some Chinese and French. It was his French that brought him to Quebec as a student, and I employed him after finding him taking part in an illegal boxing match in Montreal. I think he had dreams of funding his tuition that way, but I know that the younger boys in the game tend to be picked off once their odds have gone down somewhat.? I looked questioningly at Jean-Jacques. ?Oh,? he responded, catching my look, ?I didn?t attend. No, of course not. My last manservant, Roger, was really my father?s man and looking to retire. He scouted Bao and I sponsored his education, both at Universit? de Montreal and with Roger. Roger was permitted to retire and Bao works for me. When he is not visiting with Roger, whom he calls ?Uncle?, by the way, he puts his Major in Accountancy to good use getting under the hood of my various companies. Because of his time spent with Roger he is the perfect man to accompany me here. You did say I should be ready for anything, didn?t you?? I nodded. ?I did indeed.? ?Bao can handle anything.? ?If there is anything that he can?t, I?m assured that Ian can.? ?Ian, yes, an interesting man. I haven?t had much chance to speak with him but what little I do know of him makes me think that he has seen a lot, maybe too much. I know that such men need to be of a certain mindset, but I think that Ian might have crossed a line. That he continues to function shows a certain? determination? Yes, determination.? ?Harry trusts him.? ?I don?t know your Harry. But I trust you. When this is over, I want you to come to work for me.? ?You know I?ve had that offer from others, Monsieur Costin," I laughed. ?I may have to work for you all if I can?t choose!? Bao stepped back into the car Ian was driving, where I understood there were about six tubs of KFC chicken waiting for the Vietnamese giant. David and Ian had eaten whilst we were in the hotel. We drove back onto Des Voeux, and slid onto the square that I had visited so recently. There were a number of cars and limousines outside the nondescript passageway, and we pulled up to the same point. David came around to let us out. ?I don?t think she has any idea that you?re here, Tiffany," Said Susie as we sat in my room the day before. ?I didn?t press, just wondered aloud about other ?girls?. She said simply that everyone was where they should be. Then she asked if I was happy.? ?What did you say?? ?I told her that I was happy in some ways, but unhappy in others. She seemed interested to know more about where I was happy than unhappy.? ?I don?t think that?s odd, Susie. I genuinely think she does want you to be happy. A spoilt girl created her own best friend and she wants her to be happy.? ?I hate her, Tiffany.? ?I don?t blame you.? ?Yet we have some of the best times together, and Casey is a wonderful boyfriend. Was I meant to be this way? To be her girlfriend and Casey?s girlfriend?? ?I don?t know, Susie. Tina Lee wasn?t meant to be this way. Sue Wan maybe the same. May, well, I worry about May. But you and I? I think maybe you are happy with your situation now, but you are still angry that being like this wasn?t your choice.? She smiled weakly. ?I know it doesn?t sound it at the moment but I do think you?re right. I can be happy as who I am now, but not with Lucy still pulling the strings. So we?re all in, not that we would have that much choice anyway. At least this time there will be good reason. Tomorrow night.? She stood to leave, picked up her purse, and then changed direction to where I was sitting on the bed. Smiling, she sat behind me as I shifted to face her. Putting down her purse again she placed her hands on my waist and looked up at me. ?Tiffany, we were all made beautiful. For whatever of her own reasons Lucy took care to make us beautiful. But you are the luckiest of us all," She slid her arms around me and hugged me close. ?I know we can be happy, so please be happy, whatever happens," She slipped back, and then I noticed her struggle to hold her smile. ?Now get us all free, because I want my family back, whether they want me or not.? The door opened to let Jean-Jacques, Bao and me in, Bao first, Jean- Jacques next, and me following. David stopped outside the door and returned to the car. He, Ian and Bao were connected by earpieces and lapel mikes. Bao?s entry caused a small quietening in the club, the music continuing but conversation deadening for a moment. I stepped up to the desk and requested entry for three, paid for on the black card. I didn?t recognise the girl on the desk, nor the floor manager, but did recognise the girl on stage, Toni, who seemed to have put on a little weight since the last time I?d seen her. I hoped I was less recognisable. Jean-Jacques and Bao stepped forward to a table at the side of the stage. I moved to the bar. The barman was also new, even from the couple of times I?d visited recently, when it was more usual to have barmaids. I asked for a bottle of champagne to be sent to Jean-Jacques? table, along with a few glasses and a jug of water for Bao. Then I requested a glass of water for myself and sat with my back to the bar and a tablet on my lap loaded with a load of bogus documents to make me look as though I was otherwise occupied. Actually I don?t know if they were bogus, but they were dry if you tried to actually read them. The moment the champagne arrived at the table the girls began to flock around. The distracting activity allowed me to look around the rest of the club. John was there already, sitting at a large table with four other guys, at the other end of the bar from me, close to the entrance to the private rooms. If he had seen us arrive, he seemed to pay little attention now. I caught Jean-Jacques? eye to let him know that John was indeed present. Five minutes later he put his hand up to beckon me over. I put the tablet down on the seat, my purse already on the floor, and sashayed over to him. I walked right through John?s line of sight. I bent down to my ?boss? from behind his shoulder. ?He?s here, yes?? ?Yes," I replied. ?How do you want to play this?? ?Keep calling me over every few minutes. Get these girls to drink your champagne so that I can keep replacing it. Accept some hospitality and I?ll handle the bill. It?ll be a while before you can really offer drinks to everyone.? ?Alright,? he said, ?head back and bring me some cash, decent denominations, but not dangerous money. I don?t really know the etiquette here.? I smiled. ?I?ll bring you a load of hundreds. Every girl gets two for a dance, nice ones get four, your favourites get six. Expect to pay a thousand for a lap dance at this table. Those can go on the tab though, with the champagne.? ?Miss Jeffries, do you dance?? I couldn?t see his face exactly, but I figured from his tone he was smiling. ?Of course, Monsieur Costin, but you have only brought one pair of trousers." I turned away and swished towards the cashier. For some time I swept back and forth between my seat and Jean-Jacques? table. First one bottle, then two, then three bottles of champagne were drained. As I watched Bao tipped each dancer and the girls continued circulating. Surreptitiously I watched John?s table. Gradually, as the number of girls increased, they began to circulate around his table too, and to settle onto the seats with his men. My colleagues, however, held back. Finally I responded to my ?boss? calling me over and told him it was time I would circulate. I turned to three men at the table next to him and informed them that my boss was offering them drinks and asked them what they would like. Their response of ?Champagne? was almost immediate. I moved around the tables slowly and deliberately, taking orders in my notebook. There were very few beers or cocktails, as champagne was the girls? drink of choice. As I moved around there were certain comments made, but most of the tables were businessmen who knew what was what, and saved their comments for the working girls, who invited comment. Also as I moved around I surreptitiously communicated with my friends who began to work their ways towards John?s table. As they did so, they prompted other girls to head directly over there. John and his men were known spenders, so nobody would ask questions. As I swayed my hips over to his table, I knew that his men?s eyes were half on my friends nearby, awaiting what would soon be coming their way. Only John?s eyes were fully on me, awaiting my arrival. ?I hear you?re offering drinks," he stated in English, pre-empting my words. ?Monsieur Costin is offering drinks," I corrected him. ?And you work for Monsieur Costin?? He asked before I could get his order again. He had a little trouble with the French name, but not with the title. I bowed my head slightly to acknowledge the fact. ?I do work for Monsieur Costin, sir, now, can I offer you anything?? ?You seem familiar," he mused. ?No, maybe a trick of the darkness. I would certainly remember you if I had met you before.? ?Monsieur is too kind," I waited. Just enough similarity to jolt his memory; just enough difference to disguise. Once I?d been naked in front of him. Once I?d ignored him. Hopefully he wouldn?t be able to link either of the two with now, yet familiarity held its own attraction. ?Are you French?? ?Canadian, monsieur.? He nodded to himself. ?A bottle of champagne, and please extend my thanks to your employer.? I wrote the order into my notebook and nodded. ?I will, monsieur." I gave him a sweet smile. Just before getting to the next table, I looked back over my shoulder. As he looked at me I dropped my eyes back to the front. At the bar I handed over the list for production and billing, and then directed three waitresses where to take the orders ?with the compliments of Monsieur Costin?. The three were rapid enough that I didn?t have to take any myself, simply wait at my place at the bar to direct them. When it came to John?s order I gestured below the bar to where a couple of bottles were already sitting in ice buckets, still corked and sealed like the rest, just separated, and the barman pulled one up onto the bar in line. I directed the next returning waitress to take it to John?s table. Although the girls did get glasses, usually they didn?t drink too much. It was their job to get the guys to spend their money by dancing, which took a certain amount of coordination. I watched occasionally as John and his men drank. As the bottle emptied, my girlfriends began to take over from the girls at the table. May it was who called over to one of the waitresses and had the old bottle removed and replaced. Even before half of the new bottle had been drunk, May had taken her chosen man by the hand out to the private rooms, and it wasn?t long before Sue Wan, Tina Lee and Susie followed suit. I gave John another minute, but there were no girls interested in his table at the moment. Finally a girl moved to join him. I made my way over to Jean-Jacques as though summoned, and then returned from him to John?s table. The girl, Pumpkin Chee, I think, had her hands on his knees as she sat opposite him. He noticed me. ?Canadian, would you tell me your name?? ?Megan, monsieur.? ?Megan, would you join us?? I noted a very slight slurring to his words. Very slight. ?I am here to offer you further hospitality, should you require it. Would you like any further drinks for your table?? ?I would like further hospitality. Please, Megan, would you join us?? I smiled, and shrugged. ?Of course," I walked around to his side and sat, crossing my legs. It didn?t bother Pumpkin, or whatever her name was. She simply began to include me in her sales spiel, as though I was any other customer. ?Would you like a dance?? John asked me. ?Are you having one?? ?I?m offering you one, as repayment for your earlier hospitality.? I considered it. It might be the ideal opportunity to quickly draw him on. ?Then I should not refuse, monsieur.? ?Please, call me John.? ?Certainly, John.? He indicated that Pumpkin should dance for me. She gently uncrossed my legs, laying them flat, then began her gyrations. At one point as she pushed her breasts up just inches from my nose. John leaned across to me. ?Do you find her sexy?? He asked, voice more slurred now. I kept my eyes on her. ?I think, John, that if I were capable of it, I would have an erection right now. What about you?? ?I have." He seemed to sigh then. Maybe it was time. ?Would you like me to help you with your issue? Perhaps we should go somewhere more private?? I said the last less as a question than as a statement. Pumpkin took the hint and stopped her dance. ?I don?t think so," he said. ?But then, you are very beautiful. Not beautiful like my wife, but you do remind me of her as well. Very beautiful.? I took his hand firmly, stood and pulled him with me. ?Where are we going?? he asked. ?We?re going somewhere good. Follow me," I gripped his hand and he came with my pull. GammaHydroxybutyrate is a mouthful, more easily swallowed when mixed into a drink, though its addition to alcohol can be more risky than taking it on its own. It is a colourless, odourless liquid that acts on the nervous system, producing feelings of euphoria and a lessening of inhibitions. Much like alcohol, but far more powerful. Of course, you can?t simply dollop the required teaspoonful into a champagne glass and expect to get away with it. Neither, contrary to B-movie expectations can you inject it into a bottle. A champagne cork is squeezed down to almost half its diameter to be inserted into the bottle, and remains at that diameter until released. This makes trying to put a needle through the cork about as simple as trying to inject through a block of pine. The solution is to open the bottle, pour in the GHB, then reseal the bottle using a corking machine, replace the metal foil, and rewire the whole lot. For Susie, getting hold of the GHB and the corking equipment was a simple request. She prepped everything, and the waitresses served it to the table. The bottle was opened, the contents drunk, and within an hour John was as malleable as a teenaged boy with a bottle of whisky. In less than forty minutes I was back down with Jean-Jacques. About thirty minutes later Susie and May brought John back to his table. Tina Lee and Sue Wan had arrived minutes before with two of his men, and Susie and May returned upstairs to retrieve the other two. All of them would have great, if indistinct, memories of their night. GHB was unlike the otherwise very similar drug, Rohypnol, in that a victim retained their memories fairly complete, though those memories would definitely be odd, much like drunken memories. It had been easy to get John into a bedroom, and easy to persuade him to take off his clothes. The right amount of stimulation in the right places made it difficult for him to resist any advances, so by the time Susie arrived with the camera I was simply able to drop to my knees before him and make the blow job obvious from any angle. She set up a tripod so that the results would look like a fixed position camera, hidden somewhere, rather than some seedy home porn, and I angled my face away at all times. John?s face, however, was in plain view. Susie moved the camera to the side of the bed, near the foot of it, for the lying down shots. I climbed on top of John and slid down deep on him, slowly letting him out as much as possible before taking him back in, to make it obvious that the fuck wasn?t being faked. He responded well, being so horny by now that he grabbed my hips and simply thrust me up and down on himself like some kind of sex toy, before ramming me down on his hips and cumming somewhere up high inside me. I crawled off and Susie took over, kissing and licking him all over his body to revive him. I switched the memory card in the camera with a spare, and put it in my purse. As I did that Tina came in to help Susie out and I left them to it. By the time they brought John back downstairs he would be on film fucking five women. When you set someone up in the way I had done there is bound to be an attempt at retribution; a lashing out, if you like. John had names and faces. I?d tried to limit his focus to me, but the other girls were concerned that he might remember them too. I believed that, due to not knowing how John would react, acting first was vital. The same night in the hotel I edited and burned my film onto a number of DVDs, and they went out with the courier services in the early morning. It was really a combination of what everyone had been telling me, my Dad, Mrs Milner, Harry and Philip. Lucy was a human who wanted love, and lashed out when she was frustrated. Unfortunately her lashing out was backed up by a vast amount of power, which was not constrained by bounds of responsibility, probably undermined through grief at the loss of her father, stress, and ultimately depression. Her loves, friends and partners, were her only source of support. Was it wise to try to engage someone who didn?t appear to be rooted in the real world? And in that engagement, was it wise to hit her where it would hurt most? I would find out at a meeting in Lausanne, Switzerland, in one week?s time. Until then I had to survive. David and Ian met me in the lobby to escort me to the airport. In London I went straight to Hayley?s apartment. I wanted to see her. When I discovered she wasn?t there I panicked initially, but managed to control myself as I realised that there was no way that Lucy could know anything about us, that if she did there was no way she could move so quickly, and that it was the middle of a working day. That last realised, I decided that it was time to go back to my place and go to sleep for a day or two. Ian and David still accompanied me, Ian right up to the front door. Again my tiredness betrayed me as I finally realised that he was going to go in before me, to check out the house. As he stood there holding his hand out I shook my head, smiled and gave him the key. After letting him in first with my bag I stepped in behind him and closed the door. It took him a few minutes before he came back to the hallway where I was still waiting. He had a strange look in his eyes. ?All clear," he reported back. ?Would you like me to come up to the bedroom with you?? I was too tired to play along, too nervous not to recognise the danger. Ian needed to be kept on a leash. I approached him closely, slightly taller than him in my heels. ?Ian, do your job. If anything happens to me, you will have nowhere to hide, understand?? He sneered slightly. I spat it out again. ?Do you understand, soldier?? ?Yes. Ma?am," he bit back. Then he smiled, the strange glint leaving his eyes completely. ?Score one for you, Ma?am. I?ll be outside with David if you need me," With that he left, the door latching behind him, and I felt my knees nearly give way. Lausanne. We moved into the Beau Rivage. The views across Lac Leman were stunning, and I loved my room, but I couldn?t spend time appreciating it because Lucy was somewhere in the same hotel, waiting for me, though she didn?t know it yet. Just getting here alive hopefully meant that the worst was over. My other guests checked in, and called me to let me know they were available. Why were people that I knew assembling here, and why was I here? Lucy?s board had called an emergency general meeting, prompted by a number of the major shareholders, and to which a number of those shareholders would be attending. This would be the ideal opportunity to pull Lucy?s world apart. I grabbed my tablet, fully charged. I checked my suit once more, black with a white blouse, all tailored by Paul Smith. My stockings were straight under my trousers, and my heels gleamed courtesy of the hotel. A few of the attendees would recognise the various pieces of subdued, yet exquisite, jewellery that I was wearing. Nervousness made my peculiar urge return, but I knew why now. I couldn?t afford to be distracted, so for the second time in an hour I stepped into the bathroom and sorted myself out, not enjoying it fully, but you take what pleasure you can. No more, I thought, spritzing myself once more with Amarige. Time to first make the music and then face it. I walked out of my room, and David and Ian stepped into the lift with me. Hayley had been at home in the week. I did catch her there. But her first question was simple. ?Is it over?? We sat and talked for a while, but got no closer. I knew that she wouldn?t allow herself closer until I had an answer for her. Jake confirmed that. We met up in Warwick again for the simple reason that Jake wouldn?t allow me to meet him in Eton. ?Once the guys know who?s coming to visit they all want to be my best friend at the moment you arrive! You have a fan club.? I laughed. ?What do they think of you spending time with me?? ?They know you?re my sister-mother, and that nothing will happen.? ?I like the way you think, but really can we stop this ?mother? business!? I squealed. It was lovely to talk with a friend, even if it was hard to talk about a girlfriend in the situation we were in. ?If I had a guy tell me he was in to me, but he was straight, I?d be really confused," Jake admitted. ?I?d back off and wait until he decided, otherwise the whole relationship could just be a joke.? ?But what if you had a guy who claimed he used to be a woman?? He thought about that for a moment. ?I have a friend who claims she used to be a guy.? ?Hey!? I started to interrupt him, but he cut me off gently. ?If she was a guy,? he continued, taking my hands in his, ?I would probably be into that guy. So you see, that minor physical change could lead to a huge change in perception," He laughed at his understatement. ?You see though, don?t you, that you have to be a woman for her to love you, but there?s a second thing, you have to be happy for her to love you, otherwise she thinks her love isn?t strong enough. So you have to be happy being a woman, not unhappy about it." I nodded, understanding. ?She does love you, but can?t afford to love you because she wants you to be happy.? ?Oh," I sighed. ?Shit.? ?Why can?t you be happy being a woman?? He asked gently. I frowned at him. ?Why can?t you be happy with a woman?? ?Yeah, alright, touch?.? Dad smiled at the end of the phoneline. I could feel it. I didn?t tell him what I was planning, but I think he had some ideas. ?Jen has been round," he offered. ?She brought Katy and Kim, but we haven?t seen Richard. Jen says he?s been having a hard time in school recently.? ?What? Why?? I asked. ?Sorry, kid, that?s not for me to know. It may be he?s growing up, it may be he misses his father. Maybe it?s a result of what happened to you. Maybe it?s what you do now. Kids know, and it affects them much more than it affects your parents. Don?t look at me as an example. I lived a long life of seeing strange and harsh stuff, so what happened to you I can deal with, maybe even help you once in a while. Richard can?t deal with it, and will definitely need your help once in a while. You?ve got to get back into his life, not me.? I sighed as I so often did. Dealing with your own troubles you could forget about your responsibilities. ?Thank you, Dad. You?re right as usual.? He laughed. ?Never as right as your mother.? ?Yes. Give her my love.? ?I will, son. Ach! Daughter. Whatever.? ?I love you too, Dad.? ?See you soon, kid.? I entered the theatre to general ignorance. It wasn?t until I was halfway to the front dais that anyone started to pay any attention. The large room was mostly empty, only containing the company board on the dais and those shareholders that could afford to attend at such short notice along with their entourages, PAs, lawyers, and the like. I strode down the centre aisle smartly, my escorts? eyes searching the room, my own directed straight at the woman at the head of the table. Finally the small talk quieted to nothing, and I stepped up onto the dais in front of Lucy. I turned my tablet around to face her, and clicked on the movie file before sliding it across the table to her. It wasn?t obvious that it was me in the first scene. However Lucy had never seen me as blonde as I was now, platinum, hair matching exactly the way I?d had it done when I was in Hong Kong. The face was obscured, usually by hair or limbs, or simply facing away, but the hair and body made the culprit clear to someone who knew me well. The following four scenes were not so obvious at all. A group of women who all resembled Lucy, but she would know wasn?t her, all wearing the same long black hair, and riding joyously on her husband, whose face was never hidden at all. As she watched, her face slowly fell. Finally she tore her eyes away from the screen, her aides politely looked away. ?You have proved you are a whore," she said carefully in Cantonese. ?What is the meaning of this?? ?Perhaps you should ask your husband?? I replied in the same language. ?A weak man," she dismissed him, but I could hear the shaking in her voice. Sadness? Fear? Or anger? ?Does this make you feel better? This is your belittling of me? The great Michael come for me?? She stood up and leaned across the table to me. ?Does the great Michael still need cock twice a day?? She whispered to me. I laughed. ?Your condom trick? Nicotine and opiate in the lubricant? Very nice, but just drugs, not desires.? Her lip twitched. ?Are you enjoying your breasts growing again? How is the diet coming along?? ?Your artist?? I raised an eyebrow in question. ?His powders were replaced by inert silicoids before he visited me. Another half cup is a pain, but no real problem. Quite attractive, don?t you think? The love of your life did," I smiled at her. She leaned back, and looked me up and down. ?So? So you?re free to be a woman of your choosing, conditioned to dance and strip. Do you still enjoy that?? ?I do. For the right person. Have you forgotten your last piece of conditioning, about my desire to make money, especially helpful in desiring cash from punters?? ?No, why don?t you go and enjoy it. Now get out of here, Tiffany.? ?No. There?s one more thing I need to do here." I turned my back to Lucy and faced the small group in the front rows. I switched to English. ?The reason this EGM was called was to ratify a proposal by a group of investors for a change in board membership and potentially for a relisting of ownership in the company. The papers were lodged 90 days ago,? I looked across at Amanda Maitland for confirmation and she nodded to me, ?and the required quorum of votes is in attendance.? ?One moment!? A tall Chinese man interrupted from behind me. The Chief Financial Officer I believed. ?There are not the number of shareholders here to vote on any large proposals that would involve alteration to the company or board, and I saw the lodging which had only one single share backing. Are you Sarafina Tiffany Michaels?? ?Yes,? I responded, ?I am.? ?Then your proposal needs another two thirds of the company shareholding to even be raised.? I leaned back and took my tablet back from in front of Lucy. I read from a list. ?Tariq Ibn Saud, 13%. Jean-Jacques Costin, 11%. Sir Frederick Bolton, 10%. Gentlemen, are you present?? The three men raised their hands. All smiled at me, inviting me to go on. ?Hassan Ibn Saud, 8%, and Mahmoud Ibn Saud, 8%. Gentlemen?? Tariq raised his hand. ?I hold their proxies here,? he reported clearly, ?and they are listed in the meeting