Chapter 12

Two very important things happened in that January. The first was the sale of the shopping centre being finalised, with Willows’ payment going into her personal account, and the shares issued in her name. The new owner was originally based in Australia, and this was one of their expansion projects into the UK. The share price was around seven pounds each. Most of the others put theirs on the market to add to their cash payment, but Willow held on to hers, as a million shares in a huge company wasn’t something she could pass up.

The second was her introduction to the crew at the party office in Beaconsfield, not far from her home in Marlow. She spent a whole day with them, talking about the electorate and the volunteers. At first, they had the idea that she may be just a figurehead candidate, without true substance, but her experience of being with her father as he was running, plus her obvious talent with business and numbers, was enough for them to see past the pop star and admire the strong woman beneath the glamour. That would allow her to fit in if she was announced as the candidate.

She had plenty of time before the election to go to all the volunteers and start working on a strategy. The electorate office would organise that for her, a little at a time. She had no real need for donors, but looked at the list and started contacting them, with a call to Hugh first to find out if he knew any. That led to a meeting at her house, with Hugh and Terry, to talk about why she was running and to gauge her seriousness. Hugh was frank.

“Why on earth do you want to be an MP, Willow. You have your music empire to look after, you could go back on the stage at any time if you needed adulation. All you get by being in the House is half the country who disagree with you, whatever you say.”

“It’s the same with the music, Hugh. Half the country like other things, I may have played to seventy thousand, but in cities with two million inhabitants, that’s a small group. I know that my empire, as you call it, can run without me being there every day. The thing is that I could do so much more if I had a say in running the country. I would be one of the youngest in the House, and that would let me push policies for the youth vote. There are established customs that need looking at. There are still girls who get illegally operated on at a young age. I know it’s banned, but it still happens. I may be able to lead a move to lower the drug taking, but that would need a move to improve the chances for the underprivileged to gain meaningful jobs that have been taken away by automation and AI.”

They talked about things, and she was able to share some of the passion for things that she had held to herself up until now. She had worked with enough of a range of people to have a wider view of the world than most. She had travelled the world and seen what other places were doing, the good and the bad. Terry excused himself to go to the toilet, and, after he had left them, Hugh looked Willow in the eyes.

“You know that when your candidacy is announced, there will be vultures at your door. Some who will have looked at certain birth and census records.”

“You know!”

“Of course. When you submitted that first project, I made it my business to know all about this new thinker in my world. There will be others that will never see past the fact that you were born a boy. Expect to have loads of women turn up wherever you are with placards and calling you names. You may have a revised birth certificate, but the civic and early school records remain unchanged.”

“I may have to discuss this with the PM, if this goes any further. I had thought that fighting the other candidates may be classed as a turf war, not thinking about being embroiled in a TERF war.”

When the others had left, she went upstairs to their office, where Garry was working on lyrics.

“I’ve just spoken to Hugh. He’s known about me since I did that course in fourth form. He just warned me that there may be vultures waiting to pick my bones.”

“That’s a worry, love. I suppose that you had better withdraw from the election.”

“I’ll see Dad first. He may have some ideas.”

She phoned home and spoke to her mother.

“Mum, I may have to decline the PM’s offer. I’ve been reminded that there’s something in my past that may cause problems.”

“Bring Garry around to dinner tonight. He can play with John while we speak.”

“It’s all right, Mum, he saw through my disguise that day we went to the school and met the Gee’s for the first time.”

“Ah! There has to be a story there, but I’ll leave it up to him to tell me. We’ll see you a bit after six. I’ve got a pork roast I can get into the oven. I’ll phone your father to make sure he leaves Whitehall on time.”

That afternoon, they drove up to Rising Lane, with overnight bags in the car, expecting a long discussion. Wendy greeted them with hugs and kisses. They put the bags in Willows’ old room, and she helped Wendy with the dinner while Garry kept John interested.

Ashley arrived and went up to change out of his suit. When he came down, the five of them had dinner, and then John was taken up to bed, to be read a story, which Garry made extra special by adlibbing. While he was upstairs, Willow told her parents some of how Garry could see through her, that first day, telling them about a ‘friend’ that Garry had known in primary school.

When Garry joined them, Ashley poured some wine.

“Now, darling daughter, I believe you want to reverse your agreement to run for Parliament?”

“I was talking to Hugh, and he reminded me about the furore that would happen when my origins come out. He has known since I submitted that first project. He put his people on my trail to find out about me, seeing that he considers me as a ‘thinker’. He said that I’ve been in luck, but the written records will remain for ever, and, once my origins are known, there would be hell to pay.”

Ashley smiled.

“That isn’t going to happen, my daughter. We told Bruce the whole story so that he could short circuit any queries. We all know the truth, Hugh does, so does the clinic and the lawyer that did your name change. There have been stories about you that went back to the year we left Bristol, right?”

“That’s right,”

“Now, when I was put forward as the candidate, the Head Office did a background check on me and reported to the leader. We were in opposition then, but the vetting was no less thorough, and carried out by people who are no strangers to secrets. I can tell you that the PM has known about you since that time; what, about eight years.”

“And he didn’t boot you out?”

“Why would he. I had a good chance of winning, and you were, by then, quite famous. No, he is a pragmatist, so waited until we won the election and then had the power to do things that only a Prime Minister can do. He set the guys at Thames House a project. They have altered all the computer records at the hospital where you were born, at the doctor you were taken to, the primary school that you went to, and the high school in Clifton. Anyone looking for you there will find Willow Jean Rose.”

“That’s sneaky!”

“That’s not the end of it. They were told that it was a project to see if they could hide a real person from any investigations. They also replaced all the paper records with forgeries, wherever possible. Where they couldn’t, the paperwork was lifted and destroyed. Tell Hugh to set his dogs on you again and see where he gets to.”

Garry grinned.

“I found William on the microfiche records of the census, there would be no way those records could be lost, seeing that they’re in every library and town hall in the country.”

“That was well done on your part, Garry. The thing is that the government department that handles the census puts out periodic amendments. One was sent out, nationally, about six years ago, that there had been a misspell on a certain sheet, with a William John, son, that should have read Willow Jean, daughter, with the error being input by a junior typist. That isn’t as strange as you would think, as they put out those amendments regarding names, house numbers and other details at times. Any journalist, worth his salt, would check the amendment list before writing anything. If they do claim that you’re a boy, you can sue them as the amendment is there for all to see.”

Willow smiled.

“So, that’s our taxes at work! I take it that William never existed, except in the minds of anyone who ever met him.”

Wendy laughed.

“What! All those who thought that you were a sissy, or a tomboy. You kept telling me that you spent most of your time with a bunch of girls, that’s not something a blue-blooded male would do until he was ten years older. Enough time has passed that anyone who are now asked about you would picture you as Willow, a famous singer and keyboard player that had played with several great bands. Anyone who has read those articles about you would laugh at the concept that you aren’t what you seem. Do you think that the King would have presented you with that OBE if they thought that your identity was false?”

“I’ll tell Hugh to set his dogs on me again. I’ll also need to speak to Bruce about what he knows. He may be able to write something new that lays the groundwork. It could be an opinion piece about how perfect I could be as the Minister for culture.”

“That would be a good start to the run at the polls. I’m sure the PM would agree. I’ll give you a call in a few days to let you know if he wants you to go that way.”

They all went off to bed with Willow in a much better frame of mind. She had been given a present that very few transgender women could have, her entire past as a boy erased. Every piece of her identity was now as Willow.

The next day, before they left Rising Lane, she rang Bruce to see if he would meet them that day. He invited them to his house and gave her the address. She then rang Hughs’ office and left a message for him ‘to try and find WJ again’ telling his secretary that he would know what she meant.

As they approached Bruce’s house the door opened, and he came out to give them both a hug.

“Welcome to my humble abode! Let me tell you, there’s no place like home once you’ve retired. Come on in, the kettle’s on.”

They sat in his kitchen and his wife brought over the pot and some biscuits. They chatted about the world, in general, as the tea was poured and sipped. Bruce’s eyes twinkled.

“Now, you two aren’t here just to see how this old scribe is going, are you?”

“You’re right, as usual. Do you still write?”

“I do. I do the odd opinion piece, or a look back at past events in the light of new ones. I have a few of the papers that look at my stuff, even the Observer prints it, unless they’re inundated with breaking news. Do you have something for me?”

“Possibly. You remember that story I told you, a long time ago? I thank you for not printing it.”

“As I said at the time, I admired the way that your parents set aside the potential disaster to give you the opportunity to grow, which you have, spectacularly. I did have some other journalists call me to see if there was anything juicy in your story, but I told them all that you were just a normal girl before coming to Coventry.”

“Thank you for that. They did speak to the Headmaster in Clifton, and he told them that I had been a good student. Mind you, the only thing that he’d seen was the report he sent up to Blue Coat. He was the one who said that Billie-Jean would do well.”

“It’s a good job they never went back further than that.”

“That’s what I want to talk about. I’ve been asked to stand for Beaconsfield at the next election.”

“That would attract a lot more scrutiny of your past.”

“It doesn’t matter, now. When Dad was running, he, and my family were vetted. The PM, then leader of the opposition, was given the news about my first twelve years.”

“And still went with Ashley. That was him taking a chance.”

“I was told, yesterday, when I spoke to Dad about the problem, that the PM had put the spooks onto the problem as soon as he had the power. If anyone goes looking, all they’ll find in any of the records will be Willow Jean.”

“Now, that’s sneaky!”

“That’s what I said. I was wondering if you would write something that went back to my early days but written as if I’ve been a girl all along. The PM would have to give us a publication date, no doubt very close to the official announcement. I’ve seen the party office but haven’t started campaigning yet.”

“I would need some detail, things that happened to you where it could have happened as a girl.”

“I was in the Junior Orchestra and hung around with the girls. We would sing acapella outside the school. I never had much to do with the boys, except to be bullied. I think that I may have been just part of the background in primary.”

“All right. If you tell me about any highlights, perhaps special holidays, and pieces you played in the orchestra. From what you told me, last time, I would expect that many would have considered you a sissy, or, at best, a tom-boy. With that Vogue piece, I could write something about your time at the Blue Coat, with the earlier times as a couple of paragraphs. It could be my own musings about the girl I knew before she was truly famous. You included me in a lot of things that helped my later career, so I would be happy to help you now.”

He went and got his speech recorder, and they sat and talked for an hour. By the time they left, Bruce had enough to fill out her early days, and the bones of the article in his mind. Willow took his home email address and said that the PM may want to see the result first. Bruce knew that this could be another scoop.

In a much better frame of mind, the Randalls went home to Marlow, and waited for Hugh to get back to them. He rang Willow a week later.

“I got your message and set my investigator to confirm what he came up with before. He rang me from Bristol, and the first thing he told me was that your records have been ‘spooked’. It looks like you have contacts that I can only dream about.”

“I only heard about that after we spoke and went to see Dad about pulling out. He told me that the whitewashing of my records occurred just after he was elected. Does this change what you think about my run?”

“It certainly does. It shows me what the PM thinks about you. He must be keen to go that far out on a limb. That, alone, makes you someone to call a friend, even if we weren’t already. I’ll talk to my friends about your run, but with the electorate as part of London, they don’t have a big interest there. However, we’ll get you some donations. Do you have any idea what they have in mind for you?”

“The Secretary for culture, media and sport was mentioned. I’m not sure how much I can help anybody in that position.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, Willow. That office has the final say on all the theatres, stadiums, sports grounds and a heap of other things. You’ll be fighting toe to toe with the FA, the newspapers and the TV. That’s why the cleaning of your records was so good. The media barons will be keen to have something on you to get you to take orders from them.”

“That sounds like fun – not!”

“Just remember, you have more in your bank than ninety percent of the suits that run these things. It’s not as if the super-rich will bother coming to see you unless they were desperate, so would expect their underlings to be able to deal with you.”

“I’ll have that to look forward to in two years’ time, then. I’ve spoken to Bruce about writing a piece that can come out around the time I get named, which will fill out a little of the new reality. All we can hope for is that nobody writes to the papers to say that I was a boy. The hospital should stay quiet, the lawyer who handled the name change should stay quiet. Harvey Horton only took note of me because it was his son that bullied me, who is, rest his soul, now dead.”

“Look, Willow. Everything that can be done, has been done. All you need to do now is to canvass the electorate and win the seat back. The sitting member isn’t a patch on his father. You should be able to win, as long as you remain your wonderful self.”

“Thanks, Hugh, I’ll remember that. Be ‘Wonderful Willow’. You have no idea how often that has come up, and how much I dislike it.”

After that, she carried on with keeping in touch with the Red Wolf empire, dropping in on the two recording studios, and spending more time with Garry at her old home on Rising Lane. Ashley was a perfect teacher in the ways of Whitehall, with his own experience of his early days still in his memory.

She spent a few weeks in Parliament while it was sitting, listening and learning about the procedures, the rituals, the debates, the child-like stupidity at times, and the ways that things moved forward, slowly. Of course, nothing was said about why she was there, but many guessed that she was being groomed to join them, if her place hadn’t been settled yet. Nobody was game to speak up, as that would be tantamount to being noted.

Her presence was noted, however, and she was invited to lunch with members of other parties, to try and entice her into running for them It was all wishful thinking, but every meeting gave her an insight into more of the fundamental workings of the House.

She gave the PM the email address for Bruce. The day after her birthday dinner with her parents, there was an amazing coincidence. There was a large piece in the national papers, with Bruce writing about the girl he met some years ago, and who impressed him with her talent, with some of the details of ‘her’ early days. It went on to discuss all her musical involvement at the Blue Coat, something the Vogue item had glossed over. The story ended with the statement that whatever was in Willows’ future, it would be good for her, and for others. In the same papers, there was a stop-press announcement from the PMs’ office, issued the previous evening, that Willow Randall would be running for the seat of Beaconsfield at the next election.

She and Garry spent the next few days answering texts and emails and speaking to reporters who came to their house. They finished the main commissions they had for new songs, They sat with the main girls in the office to look at the plans for summer tours. ‘Cauldon’ were going to tour the US, with a pair of session players standing in for the two who would never be able to return home until all the various laws had been reversed. They would be spending their summer having sexual re-assignment, with several weeks allowed for them to recover from all the operations. They now had the money to do it properly.

That tour would be a copy of the European one, with ‘Third Rating’ opening for them, now with almost equal time. Both bands had new albums on the market there and selling well. It made Willow think. It looked as if the band members became more settled as they got older. Roy, Victor, and Brent had seen, first-hand, the highs and lows. Now, they were happy to be playing good music and making money that they were determined to use to improve their lives, rather than fritter it away on material show.

That summer, Willow threw herself into talking to as many people in the Beaconsfield electorate as she could. The party office made sure that she had regular get-togethers with the volunteers and other helpers, visiting all the major areas and most of the minor ones. Garry spent half his time with her, and the other half of his time in touch with Red Wolf and the studios. When they were together, they slept in Marlow, Rising Lane, and the London apartment. They had meetings with the Party head office, and Willow shadowed her father in the House, continuing to pick up the way things were done. If she did win, she would be able to hit the ground running.

There was one thing she didn’t do. She stayed away from the other Ministerial offices, as she didn’t want to give them any idea that she was after any particular jobs, just happy to serve on the back benches.

Hugh had come good with donors. It gave her enough to operate without spending too much of her own money. She knew that it would mean favours may be asked, in the future, but that also meant that she would be on speaking terms with a lot of important people.

At the end of the summer, the Randalls were invited to attend the Red-Carpet launch of the new Bond movie, seeing that they had provided the opening song , with Vivienne singing it. It was the first time they had heard it in the finished form along with the fantastic CGI visuals. The film, itself, was as good as the previous later ones, with less tongue in cheek and more high-octane action.

Vivienne wasn’t at the side of the leading man at the red carpet, that was the place of the leading lady, but Willow noticed that she was very close to him at the after-party. Zara told her that the two had been seen smooching in the breaks between takes. Zara had flown in for the show and would be heading back to America to join up with Geoff on the tour, as well as talking to a couple of producers who wanted to see about getting her signed on for their films.

Marianne Gregory © 2025