Eva's Valentine's Day Choices

"We can set the clock easily enough. What time would you like the heating to come on in the morning?"

"I'm up at five, for the six o'clock shift."

Aha, that's good, he works.

"Okay, so I'll fire it up for four-thirty, so it will be warm for you and shut it off when you leave, say, five-thirty?"

Mark nodded.

"What time do you come home from work?"

"I'm six until two. If I catch the bus, I'm home by two-thirty but I often walk, so I can pick stuff up at the shops, say, three-thirty at the latest."

"Okay, you have five-weekday settings, so we can put the heating on at two, at a low setting, say sixteen degrees, to take the chill off the house... Then at three-thirty boost it to eighteen?"

Mark nodded and gave a huge, wide grin.

"Ok, then what time do you normally go to bed?"

"Depends if I'm working the next day or not."

"Okay, what time do you go to bed when you are working the next day?"

"Sometimes eight, sometimes nine."

"And what days do you work?"

"Ah, well, that depends on the shift pattern. I've got a three-day weekend starting from today, but every fourth weekend I get four days. Sometimes I get invited to do overtime, so work the weekend."

"Ahhh, not helpful... What time do you go to bed when you aren't working?"

"Not much later. Ten at the latest."

Eva fiddled with the buttons, toggling through the times and settings.

"There you go. So the heating will go off at eight every night. If you want it warmer than eighteen degrees, just toggle the temperature button higher, but you'll need to toggle it down if you decide to go to bed. Like this."

Eva showed Mark the thermostat as she toggled the temperature up to twenty-two, then back down to eighteen.

"Wonderful, thanks. It's brilliant to have it back on. I was distraught yesterday when I couldn't even have a shower. I really owe you, you've been very kind to me, and people aren't normally that kind to me."

Mark stepped forward and gave Eve a hug. Not a strong manly one, but the sort an aunt would give you on your birthday. With Eva having her head on his shoulder, she caught a faint hint of perfume. This added to Eva's confusion, bolstered by Mark looking as if he was learning about his heating system for the first time, yet he must have lived here for years and should know this.

"I'll put it back in the hallway."

She passed him the thermostat and Mark took it to place on a key rack in the entrance hall. Eva felt guilty wearing her coat, with the heating now on, so she followed him, pulling her coat off to hang it on the empty hooks in the hallway. Wondering with the four bare hooks if Mark owned a coat.

"So... Where do you work?"

"Oh, at that big distribution warehouse up on the large industrial estate, just off the motorway junction. Would you like that cup of tea I owe you now?"

"Please."

When they returned to the kitchen, Mark continued talking as he gathered mugs and started making them both a pot of tea. Eva stood in the doorway.

"Initially they furloughed me, but with everyone at home over the first lockdown and buying online, they called us back in. So I've been working ever since."

As Mark continued to make tea, Eva noticed Mark moving around her and the small kitchen more like a woman, rather than a man, or camp cross-dresser. So either he was much practised or had expert tuition.

"Sorry I don't have sugar, just sweeteners if you want any?"

"Just the one, please."

Mark ducked across to reach high into the tea mug cupboard. Even being still in his baggy hoody, with it hanging off him, leaving Eva wondering how thin he was. As he turned to shake the sweeteners packet at Eve in confirmation, Eva was sure she saw the swish of hanging boobs underneath the loose hoody.

Mark went through the motions of pouring the hot water into the pot, dropping tea bags in and pouring milk into the mugs.

"Fancy some homemade carrot cake?"

"Please... You bake?"

"Not really. One of those cookery programs inspired me last week. I'm not brilliant, but hope it's passable."

Mark swooped around to the oven and pulled out a half-eaten carrot cake. He pulled a knife out, centred it, rotating the knife, looking at Eva for direction, to confirm the size of the slice she'd like.

"Say when."

"Oh, not that big... A little smaller, perfect. Thanks, that looks nice, moist, not dry."

"Thanks."

He cut two slices, then spirited two plates from a cupboard, paper napkins and coasters, placing them on a tray. He set out the mugs and poured the tea.

Eva convinced his movements were now more feminine and deliberate, even kicking his hips out as he stepped from side to side. More than once, she thought she'd witnessed boobs swinging inside Mark's baggy top.

Mark picked up the tray and led the way into the modest lounge. He placed the tray on the coffee table, set coasters down, then the mugs, plates, cakes and napkins, to place the tray down by the side of his chair. Eva thought it strange as she watched a man layout tea in mugs, with coasters, paper napkins and three-pronged cake forks, with meticulous care.

Now, at home with heating on, Mark was definitely less melancholy now, and seemed happy to chat.

"Please try the cake. I'm dying for someone to give me an honest verdict. I've taken some cupcakes into work before now, but they're just gannets and will say anything to get free cake at break time."

Eva picked up her generous piece and sampled it. She was right; it was perfectly moist, with the right tangy taste and the cream on top was perfect. This was not Mark's first bake.

"Mmm, no, it's gorgeous. It's as moist as it looks and the topping is perfect."

"Oh, thanks... Not bad for my second try."

"No, not bad at all... So you like your work?"

"Oh, it's boring work, keeping you on the go, so the time passes quickly but it keeps me fit and the gang I work with are a happy enough bunch. We still have to mask up in the office or restroom, but not in the enormous warehouse. We're not on top of each other, as we load parcel delivery vans, stacking the parcels in the vans."

"Not stressful then?"

"Oh, yeah... The van drivers are a nasty lot. They'd happily drive off with you still inside if it saved them time. They won't wait for you... You need eyes in the back of your head as you'd be surprised how many have reversed into the dock and damaged the conveyors or their vans."

"Do you get downtime in between vans?"

"There's almost a constant stream, whether loading deliveries or removing arrivals, but our team is full of banter much better than my last."

"They move you around?"

"Ah... Mmm... About March last year, I came out as trans, so they moved me to a more sympathetic group. My old group is still funny about it and not nice at all."

"Ah, so you were Mandy and are now Mark?"

Which seemed odd to Eva, as he said he didn't like Mark?

"No... I was Mark and now transitioning to be Mandy."

Mark-Mandy gave Eva an odd look, as if it was obvious.

Whilst it explained many things, there was still something that struck Eva as odd... She's come out, but is still using her old gender's name and still attempting to pass as male. Whilst it would hint at it being a recent change, she suggested that this in March, less than a year ago.

It also confirmed that Eva had seen boobs through the loose clothing, but was ten months enough time for such a size to be noticeable? But was that enough time for the facial feminisation? Eva didn't know, nor wanted to judge. But it still seemed strange that someone dedicated enough to their cause to come out to their employer was still using their birth name and dressing as such.

The big plus side was that Mark-Mandy was now a different person than the inert stranger she originally sat alongside earlier. Her voice was more relaxed and at ease, without a hint of anxiety of suicide that Eva feared earlier in the day.

"But, you introduce yourself as Mark earlier?"

"Ah... yeah... It's not been a good few days for me... What with the heating packing up, I just won't feel like Mandy until I've had a shower and changed... Sorry, I can get a bit confused myself..."

Maybe that was why he was up on the bridge earlier, trying to sort all that confusion.

"Less about me. What about you Eva?"

"Oh... I left school and got a purchasing apprenticeship. I passed my three-year apprenticeship and after a year on the job, they paid for me to go on a further college course, so I am a qualified purchaser for the NHS."

"Oh, wow, that must be interesting?"

"Yes, I purchase everything and anything, from paperclips, PPE, and surgical instruments to blankets, x-ray equipment and cleaning products."

"Oh, so you deal with re-order stock levels, just-in-time and expediting everything you brought?"

"Oh, you know all the terms..."

"Ah, er... Well, just things I overheard at work."

"Yeah and all the rest, it's very full-on, but as it's all online, allowing me to work from home, which is great."

Again, Eva's suspicions were raised.

For someone who works in a parcel warehouse, he knows a lot about my job...

What would a parcel distribution depot know about re-order levels?

Surely parcels come in regardless and go out... Maybe they have PPE supplies to worry about...

Eva and Mark continued to nibble and sip tea, both pleased to feel the house warming as the heating creaked and squeaked. Eva glanced around, still a little surprised at the cleanliness of the small lounge.

There was a large flat-screen TV in the original fireplace in the corner, obviously to share chimneys with the neighbour. The mantelpiece behind had a few obligatory photos and candles centred by an old carriage clock.

The one photo was of an elderly couple and on the other end of the mantelpiece was one of a large-sized Mark, filling his hoody out, cuddling a similarly sized girlfriend, both the epitome of two gaming geeks.

Both would look at home at a Goth or vampire convention, pale-skinned and dark hair. The photo reinforced Eva's suspicions. For Mark to have lost that much weight in roughly ten months was nothing short of miraculous, whilst also taking hormone pills to grow size `C' breasts and have facial surgery whilst amid a pandemic.

"The two elderly people are my parents. Dad died nearly five years ago and mum died of a broken heart soon afterwards."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to pry."

Eva wanted to ask about the other photo, but after that, she didn't want to add any more painful experiences to Mark-Mandy's day.

"The other one is of me with my last girlfriend, Sarah... We broke up before the first lockdown."

Okay, that lengthens the timeline, to lose that weight over eighteen to twenty months was more realistic. Maybe I'm clutching at straws.

"The carriage clock was mum and dad's."

Strange, nothing about his ex-girlfriend... Maybe they weren't close and yet he's a photo of her on the mantelpiece.

"That was lovely Carrot cake, you should bake more... But after a cup of tea and being out in the cold, I need the loo. Is it alright?"

"Yeah, of course. Top of the stairs, you can't miss it. Be careful on those stairs. You'll need to walk like a duck coming down, as they're thin, steep treads."

Eva got up and headed to the stairs, just like any old house, steep and narrow. She climbed up with the balls of her feet on the treads, but her heels off the narrow treads. The stair carpet, stair rods, handrail and posts were all clean and polished, as if Mark-Mandy were expecting visitors.

The bathroom door was open, waiting for her after the short hallway at the top of the stairs, but so was the bedroom on the left. Like all good visitors to any house, Eva tried to avoid looking in, but similarly, neither could she resist. Well the door was open.

So that's where all his coats are.

Eva saw the bed, tidily made, but covered in coats, giving testament to how cold the house must have been last night. The bedroom certainly didn't look like what you would expect from a single crossdresser or trans bedroom. No `Hello Kitty' posters or walls of pink fluffy pillows.

Stop being judgmental... Perhaps a Good Samaritan should keep her suspicions to herself.

And why should she have 'Hello Kitty' posters and pink pillows -- you don't!

Eva scolded herself, as she surveyed the extremely tidy bedroom... Odd in that women's clothing occupied any spare space, even dresses hanging off the door.

It must have taken months of shopping to buy this much... Despite lockdowns and the low wages Mark must be on. Rather than sexy, burlesque wear, that you would assume a crossdresser or trans to wear, these were all-day wear. Some fashions were a few years old, but all current and wearable down any high street.

Stop it... Why should she have lingerie spread over her bedroom?

How do you know what anyone likes to wear, stop judging her Eva.

Eva pulled her eyes away from the haberdashery and entered the spotless bathroom. As she pulled the light cord to turn on the lights, she could have sworn every surface twinkled with cleanliness. She shut the door and got on with her business...

Although, now I'm here, it wouldn't hurt to check in the medicine cabinet...

Nope, nothing there untoward.

Just the usual, toothbrush and paste, hair colour, eyelash curlers, hair scissors, and various nail varnish bottles. All spotless, even the shelves, not showing any witness as to the original location of any item. Thankfully, there weren't any medicines, of any kind. Beneath the sink was the same story, spotlessly clean, various cleaning products, spare loo rolls.

But then something that knocked Eva off balance. She had to double-take and check the packaging of an open packet of tampons with a spare full pack behind.

What does a transitioning woman need tampons for?

She closed the cabinet doors, deep in thought and guilt.

You're the good Samaritan, stop judging...

With the toilet alongside the bath and shower head, she couldn't resist checking, the level of cleanliness was impressive... The glass condiment shelf, with shower gels and shampoo, was immaculate. No bottle rings on the glass, even the bottles were clean. Mark was an expert cleaner.

Eva sat on the loo, looking around, thinking about her findings... She felt guilty for both looking and judging, but taking note to google the use of tampons by transitioning males. Her gaze fell upon the shower. The unit was wall mounted. A small low powered one, similar to the one in her spare bathroom.

Another suspicion clicked... looking back at the doorway. Yes, one cord pull for the light, but on the other side, a second cord pull. The shower was electric, separate from the gas heating of her boiler.

Mark could have had a shower...

Doesn't he realise? Surely he knows the workings of his own house?

Stop judging... Maybe it was just too cold, even with a hot shower,

it would still be cold once out drying and changing.

After washing her hands, Eva felt guilty about leaving any witness of her being there on the spotless surfaces. Heading downstairs, she heeded Mark's advice; the stairs were steep, and she had to walk like a duck to fit her feet on the treads.

"Wow, Mark, your house is spotless. I wish I had the patience to clean mine as well as this... I hate dusting and cleaning tile grouting."

"Thanks, I hate to admit I enjoy it... It stops me from thinking about anything else, sort of occupational therapy."

"Oh, if you enjoy it, then maybe you should come and do mine?"

"I'd love to..."

Mark-Mandy perked up, sitting on the edge of his seat.

"No... I was only joking, sorry... I didn't mean it."

Mark-Mandy's face dropped.

"You sure? It's not as if I have anything else to do after work."

Eva felt a pang of guilt. She had only meant it as a joke, but Mark-Mandy was serious. Not that she didn't have enough time to keep her house tidy, she didn't have the time to clean this deep... To dust every nook and cranny or clean every tile's grout...

Eva had previously thought of getting a cleaner, but not with Covid and now Omicron... Her house wasn't that big, but like Mark-Mandy, she was lonely. Working from home did distance you from people and imprison you in your own home.

At weekends, she liked to get out, work in her garden or walk some of the local woods and hills. The last thing she wanted to do was to clean and dust her workplace.

Maybe having Mark-Mandy clean would be therapy for them both...

He seemed good company and harmless enough.

"Okay... But only if I pay you... Although, I don't know what cleaners charge."

"You don't have to pay me much... As it will be cash in hand, I'm only just above minimum wage as it is... I don't mind as I'll enjoy doing it."

Eva couldn't resist Mark-Mandy's pretty face and deep blue puppy dog eyes blinking at her. She couldn't turn him down now and maybe it will do them both good. For her to have some human contact and Mark-Mandy said he liked the idea of some therapy.

"Okay, but before we agree, you'd better come to my house and see what you're in for. Then you'd get an idea of how long you think it will take."

"Oh, when?"

Eva looked at the carriage clock, showing nearly two o'clock.

"Well, why not now? I'm working tomorrow and now your heating is on, you'll have a warm house to come home to."

Mark-Mandy's face pondered then lit up...

"Is that okay?"

"Why not?"

"...Would you mind if I showered first?... And... Changed, to come as Mandy?"

Shit... I'd not thought of that... Now, now, don't judge, you're the good Samaritan.

"Okay, you get showered and changed whilst I wash up these things."

"Thanks."

Mark leapt up and made as if to collect the tea mugs. His hands stopped in midair to look apologetically at Eva, then smiled and dashed upstairs. Again, his actions were feminine, as he took each step, one at a time not leaping up several, light-footed not stomping.

Eva collected everything back up onto the plate and took them back into the kitchen. She ran some hot water into the washing-up bowl and emptied the teapot. As the bowl filled, she went to drop the old tea bags in the waste bin but found it full.

Once the washing-up bowl was reasonably full, to cover plates and mugs, Eva peered out the kitchen window to the garden to see a wheelie waste bin. She pulled the bin liner out of the kitchen bin and drew the bin liner's drawstring tight before going outside.

Whilst it was cold outside, knowing there was a warm house waiting for her inside, once she'd dropped it into the wheelie bin she looked around. The garden was only as wide as the narrow house, flanked by standard six-foot-high panelled fencing.

At the end of the garden was a small shed and more panels. A path from the small paving slab patio Eva was standing on lead up to the shed and a small concreted area, with a table and garden chair. Some very poor, thin, patchy grass flanked the path.

With the gardens on either side having greenhouses at the ends where the shed was, Eva assumed that the sun only caught the bottom of the long gardens, hence the table and chair. She wandered down to look inside the shed.

A simple padlock latch held the door, held closed by a loose four-inch nail dropped in the loop, rather than a padlock. Eva pulled the nail free and peered inside. Inside, Eva was disappointed to find what she expected, an electric lawnmower and some garden tools.

"I suppose you're some fancy social worker, at long last."

Came an old voice behind her.

Eva closed the door and slotted the nail back into place. She turned around to see that the last panel was half solid, half trestle and standing behind the trestle was an elderly man in a thick brown coat.