Chapter 6

The crowds were back, and the atmosphere had turned up a notch. This all made me feel alive. There were hundreds of fans here today to see us play. The other three doubles teams were specialists, while the other six singles players were all highly ranked. I knew that Tony was right, there would be no shame going down today, but we had worked hard enough to give it a good go.

The first people I saw as we arrived were my parents, waiting for me. I hugged them both and introduced Tony and June to them. Dad had already met Geraldine, but Mum hadn’t. As we were talking, Geraldines’ parents arrived and there were more introductions. We all walked into the complex together. Like Wimbledon, there were small sections set aside for the players’ team, so our folks would get courtside seats with Tony and June.

Our doubles match was the second one, so we left the others to wander and take in the vibes and watched to see the play for a while, until we had enough to give us pointers in how we should play whichever team won. We caught up with the parents having a chat with Miss Foster and a few other executives at the stand. As soon as we arrived, there were fans wanting us to desecrate their purchases with our sharpies.

When we heard the announcer say that the next doubles match will start soon, we all went to our places. Our enlarged team to their reserved seats, and us to the courtside entry, with our opponents, waiting to be announced, something new for us. The announcer called that this was the second semifinal to decide the other team for the final and we were walking out onto the court, following the umpire and linesmen, who, of course, were largely ceremonial now with the electronics.

There was a big roar as we went to our allotted ends and had a few minutes warming up with serves. The balls were all collected up, the umpire was in his chair and the crowd went quiet as asked, before the one word was said that made the adrenaline surge.

“Play”

They had won the toss to serve first and the first set went with serve until we were on five all. That’s when we broke their service game and went six-five up. I was serving for the set and used every ounce of energy I could, putting down three aces. They got one back, but we weren’t going to give away set points like that. On set point to win the set, they tried the short ball trick. Geraldine went to the net and returned, and I don’t think that they were even looking at us when the lob came our way. I was already under it and hit it back between them before it bounced.

We could see, in the second set, that they had been demoralised by the failure of their most successful play. We took the second game to love and broke their serve in the third. After that, it was just holding on and not making any mistakes. The crowd was right behind us and getting louder with every point. When Geraldine blocked a return and dropped the ball where it was irretrievable, the place erupted.

We went and shook hands and waved to the crowd, who seemed delirious. When we got to our team, there was a lot of hugging and kissing. June was in tears and told me why everyone was so excited. We were the first British pair to be in the doubles final at Eastbourne since it had started in seventy-four. Of course, the press were all over us and had to be reminded that we both had singles semis to play. Miss Foster and our sponsors were over the moon. No matter what we did tomorrow, we were in the record books. Tony said that this alone would guarantee our acceptance into the first draw for Wimbledon.

After testing, we were allowed to use one of the members-only rooms to relax and have a shower. Then we had the physio in to work on both of us, telling us that it was a privilege to be there. My match was first, with my nemesis from Tunbridge. Like then, we had a ding-dong battle that had more advantage plays than any game I had been in. The crowd was loud, but she did take me down again, with a long tiebreak in the second set. This time, she came to my side of the net as I stood there, panting, and hugged me.

“See you in Wimbledon, hopefully in the final.”

“Looking forward to it already. Next time I may beat you.”

“The way you’re playing, you just could.”

Geraldine also lost but took her opponent to three sets. Considering that the winner was several hundred places ahead of her in the rankings, the scoreline was respectable. Our parents joined us for dinner, where we were happy, in spite of our losses. Being in the doubles final was a good result, and Tony told us that it would add close to another thirty thousand dollars to our winnings, just for turning up, which made my parents look surprised. I don’t think they had realised what this could lead to.

We did everything we could to prepare for the final. We had the baths, we had the physio in the evening and in the morning before the match. We ate well, were up at dawn to go for a light run along the promenade, getting waves from dog walkers. Our sponsors had been busy since our win and had new tops with the Union Jack on the sleeve. We even had new racquets with red, white, and blue handles.

There were only the three matches on the main courts today. The mixed doubles in the morning, followed, in the afternoon, by our match, then the men. The womens’ singles and the mens’ singles were on Sunday. The two of us did our duty for our sponsors, signing and standing for selfies for an hour. We met up with our enlarged team before our match, the two sets of parents getting on well. June told us that she had received a text to say that we would be getting a bonus from the sponsors, the amount being dependant on todays’ result. Tony told us that we were definitely into the first round in the Wimbledon doubles but could also get wildcards for the singles.

It was a good job that we had prepared for the match but weren’t prepared for the support from the packed crowd. Although our opponents were well above us in the rankings, they were Europeans, and the roars we got when we won a point, compared to the polite applause they got when they won one, may have been something that had never happened to them before. We thrived on it, and it gave us the extra energy we needed to beat them in three long sets. We were the champions!

The presentation was almost a wall of applause as we received our trophies. The money would be paid later. The men had to wait until we cleared the court, and we then had to go for testing first, before showers, hugs, and dressing in good outfits, in Benenden colours, supplied by our sponsors, with the logos on one side and our names on the other, under ‘Doubles Champions, Eastbourne’ and a Union Jack next to the school shield. It was ostentatious but we wore it with pride. If we did nothing else, we had put our names into the record book for posterity and fulfilled our duty for Benenden.

Walter took a picture of us and sent it to the head at the school. Mum was busy with her phone, taking lots of pictures. We had lunch at the clubhouse, in the members’ dining room with a lot of past players, both male and female in attendance. As far as they were concerned, the other finals were all foreigners, and our success was the highlight of the tournament.

In the afternoon, there was a press conference with it being filmed for the evening news. When asked about our plans, we both said that we would be playing Wimbledon, but other matches depended on what was easily available during summer and our school holidays, as we had another two years to complete our advanced courses.

Of course, the question was asked about dropping school and chasing the money. I just looked daggers at the questioner. Geraldine was the one to speak.

“For what? Work hard for a few years, give a lot of the money to the tax man, flirt with serious injury or mental problems for the rest of our lives? No amount of money can replace a real life that has a meaningful content. We have two years to pass our advanced courses, and then we could play for another ten. Then, when we have some money, we can do something worthwhile. We can use our brains and our education, rather than fitness and brawn.”

One reporter had been sitting with a smirk on his face. As the others ran out of steam, he looked straight at me.

“Miss McConnell. I wonder if you can tell us about your early days. All I can find out about you is only the last year. According to your birth records, you were born as Alec McConnell and lived in Sandwich. Will you hand your trophies back, now?”

That caused a stir. I sat, with no sign of dismay or guilt on my face. I held my hand up for quiet.

“You only have a fraction of the story, sir. It is true that I was designated as a male at birth. I did live in Sandwich and go to school there. In high school I played football in a trophy winning team. I had finished my fifth form exams when I collapsed in great pain. When I woke, I was as you see me now. I am not transgender, as you wrongly assume. I was born as a hermaphrodite, always having all the reproductive organs that you find on any woman. I had collapsed due to my first period not having all of the passage required to remove the blood. Once that had been rectified, I could carry on my life as it should have been. I have a womb, I’ve developed natural breasts, I suffer from periods, and I fancy boys, although I’ll make an exception with you.”

There was some laughter.

“If you had not jumped to conclusions and had looked further, you would have found another birth certificate, issued a while ago, with my new name and as a female. I can supply you with paperwork signed by my surgeon and also several affidavits signed by experts, that declare that I was girl with an oddly shaped urinary system.”

“What about your strong serve?”

“I’m glad that you brought that up. When I was younger, I trained for playing football. When I took up tennis, I’ve been using the excellent gym equipment at Benenden to build up my leg and upper body strength. Being there is almost like living at a training camp, but with academic subjects thrown in. Geraldine and I worked on the same equipment leading up to Tunbridge Wells and to this. A disgruntled opponent complained about my serve at Tunbridge, and I was tested after that match. I gave a urine sample, and they took blood. I was even bodily examined closely by a doctor, all over. You would think that any discrepancy with my hormones would have been picked up back then. I haven’t been asked about anything after several tests since. I’ve been open with you, and I now formally warn you, and any other member of the press, that if there are any suggestions that I’m transgender, there will be legal ramifications.”

Walter cleared his throat.

“I am Walter Fitzwilliam. I am a lawyer in criminal law, and I will pursue any case that Alice cares to launch. You can look me up. That will tell you how good I am at my job.”

In the silence that followed, I spoke again.

“My parents are in the room. I’m sure that they can give you details of my younger days, should you want them. We never hid my past, merely didn’t argue when others assumed that Alec had died of his medical problem, which many thought to be a burst appendix. For me, Alec had, indeed, died, and Alice was born. So, any more questions?”

The lights went off and the room cleared. I sat there, now worried how my best friend was going to take the news. We both stood and I turned to her, seeing the tears in her eyes and expecting the worst. She grinned and hugged me.

“Alice, that must have been a terrible time for you, having to run around with a load of smelly boys!”

“Not all of them were smelly. They were all a bit too rough around the edges for my taste. I only have one real sad thing about those days.”

“What’s that?”

“I was absolutely crap in competitions at peeing up a wall. Found out why when I woke up in the hospital. My willie had been designed to pee downwards, rather than up.”

She hugged me and we giggled together, still friends. We went and checked out of the hotel. Sandra and Walter would drive their car and the BMW back to Godalming. We would be leaving today to check into our hotel in London and wouldn’t need the car, so would be travelling with Tony and June in their cars. I hugged my parents and told them I loved them. They told me that they were glad that I had the bravery to tell the truth. They now had to go home and face their old contacts and say that they were just keeping quiet until I was settled in my new life.

Walter gave his daughter a hug and told her that he would see us in London. He turned to me.

“Alice. To us, you were never anything but a lovely girl who is a good friend. I can understand your reasons to keep your background quiet, and also commend you for laying it on the line today. There will be some who may say that you’re a boy in a dress, and that’s something you’ll have to face in the future. With all the legal ramifications around transgenderism, you sit on that fine line between being a girl from birth and one that was mis-assigned. I know a colleague who would work pro bono on any case you may launch. He would welcome the chance to rewrite the laws.”

“Thank you Walter, for that and for standing up for me. I’m sorry that I never told you about my past but, as far as I was concerned, the original me was dead. They even had a memorial service at my old school.”

He chuckled and hugged me, followed by Sandra. They followed us to the hotel, where we made sure there was nothing in the BMW that we needed. The trophies were locked in the boot for safe keeping at Godalming. We checked out and loaded our bags in the other cars. I would be going with June and Geraldine was with Tony.

The trip into London was good, with a stop for fish and chips at one of the roadside cafes. Our little convoy arrived at the hotel late that evening. We were given our door cards, and our bags were taken to our rooms. The girl at reception was all smiles and wanted autographs on her blouse, under her jacket. On the way up to our rooms, Tony told us that we had been given singles wildcards for round one.

I had a good shower when I had undressed. Then put my nightie on and got into bed. It took a while to get to sleep. The day had been one to totally turn my life over again. The fallout from the press conference would have to be faced. The win had thrust us into a spotlight that was much brighter than we expected. I did get sleep, eventually.

We had the Sunday to rest and recuperate. The size of the fields, being a Grand Slam with a hundred and twenty-eight entrants in each section, meant that this was a two-week event. The first matches on the outer courts started at eleven on Monday, but our first matches weren’t until Tuesday. Our first doubles match was on Wednesday.

We went for a run Sunday morning, working out the stress of last week. We were in the Rose and Crown Hotel, a three-star place that suited us, booked by June who had stayed here when she had played at Wimbledon. It was only a minute or two to a large park where there was enough room for a good run. We were within a thousand metres of the venue, which would help loosen us up by walking there.

In the afternoon, we were in our latest playing kit with our new racquets, on the practise court along with a lot of other players. We had a two-hour slot, with me playing June, Geraldine playing Tony, and them offering advice. We finished off playing them in a doubles session. There were photographers who took pictures, but we weren’t bothered by questions.

On Monday, we walked to the venue and joined the throng to have a good look at the place, going in through the players entrance. We went to see the organising office and got our official player and team lanyards, plus extras for our guests when we were to be on court. We were given our timetable for our first rounds, and the draw. We were on different sides of the draw, so there was a slight possibility that we could play each other in the final. With the draw paper, it was a mass of boxes with lines connecting them, so we could check the results and see who we would be playing next. Tony had an app on his phone to be able to follow the results in real time.

Our first matches were Geraldine in the morning and me in the afternoon, both on an outer court. Our first doubles match was Wednesday afternoon, on the Number One Court, which had been decided because of the numbers who would want to see us, the first British team to win at Eastbourne. We wandered around, finding our sponsor stall, where we spent some time being photographed by fans.

We were given bags with new outfits for our first matches, our new look for here. It was a great design, not stupid or ostentatious but almost classic in shape with pleated skirts. We were in all white, with white headbands and shoes. The only colour allowed was a one-centimetre trim, with ours being red, white, and blue, in five-centimetre strips. We also had new, white, sports bras and frilled panties.

I phoned Mum and told her my first game times, and that there would be ringside seats for them. She told me that someone from the school had seen the news on TV and had rung Dad, asking for my new phone number, which he had given them. We went back to the hotel for lunch and were on the practise court again in the afternoon.

On Tuesday, we went in early, in normal outfits, with our big players bags making us stand out, so getting pictures taken on the way. Geraldine went off to prepare for her first round on Number Four court, the same one that I would play on in the afternoon. The three of us were on the sideline to watch. She, like me, was up against a qualifier in the first round.

She won in straight sets. We met up with her after she had showered and changed and had lunch at one of our bigger sponsors’ suites. In the afternoon, I was facing another qualifier and beat her in three sets. On the way out, we stopped at the stall to show ourselves, walking back to the hotel with fresh kit in our bags for our doubles match tomorrow.

That evening my phone buzzed and I answered.

“Good evening, Alice here.”

“Good evening Alice. This is Mister Brown from your old high school. I’m calling to apologise for someone here making assumptions without getting the facts. It was quite a moving memorial service, though.”

“That’s all right, sir. As far as I was concerned, Alec was dead and never really had lived. I was living a part that I had been told I should be playing while always wondering why it felt wrong. After I left hospital, I was taken to my Aunts’ hotel in Brighton, to learn a new role that felt natural. I know that my parents never meant to deceive anyone, they were just giving me time to adjust.”

“And adjust was what you’ve done brilliantly. We’ll be adding you to our old scholars achievement list. By the time the school term starts, there will only be those who were in third year while you were here, and to them, your old name will only be a vague memory. If you’re ever our way in future, please drop in.”

“Thank you, sir. I’ll do that.”

On Wednesday, we were playing our doubles match in the evening, so spent the day stretching and doing a light run in the park. I had to hand it to June, the hotel may not have the glitz that the bigger players would be staying in, but it did allow you to relax and exercise.

That evening was a revelation. We were playing on the second most famous court in the country, in front of a packed house, many wearing outfits that could have graced the Last Night of the Proms. We were cheered as we were announced, and we had been joined by both sets of parents in our courtside seats. We had prepared for this and were ready for whatever happened.

Our opponents were seasoned players, not qualifiers, and gave us a hard time. In the first set, they had broken Geraldines’ service game, and had got to two-one up. I had been loosening up my service arm during the day, with my first serve for the set hitting a hundred and twenty, and the receiver in the stomach. That slowed her down a bit, and we went from one down to winning the set six-four.

The second set was a battle of wits, with all four of us running all over our sides of the court. They got us in the final tiebreak point, but the damage had been done. They were tired and we weren’t. The crowd could sense blood in the water, and the noise for each of our point wins was deafening. We took the third set six-four and shook hands with the losers, then waved to the crowd after we shook hands with the umpire.

When we left the court, we were approached by one of the organising committee.

“I’m sorry to do this, girls, but we have orders to take you straight to the testing rooms. There will be urine and blood taken for a full examination. Alice, there will be someone there to give you both an ultrasound examination. The LTA has asked for this so that they can issue an independent report. I know it’s an imposition, but you can understand that they want to cover every base.”

“That’s all right, sir. I’m glad that they’re thinking right. That press conference has caused some to question my gender. I saw a few in the stands with rainbow scarves. I don’t want to become a poster girl for the transgender, as it would be a problem for my playing, as well as for the school.”

It took an hour for us to be tested and then shower and change. When we got out, the crowd had gone home and there were six people waiting for us with worried looks. Geraldine grinned.

“Daddy, guess what. They took an ultrasound on Alice, then did one on me. You’ll be happy to know that neither of us are pregnant, but have perfectly good means to be so, one day.”

That made them all smile, and we left the venue, our parents going to their cars and the four of us walking back to the hotel. Tony was the first to ask.

“You were a long time. That’s unusual for a first-round match.”

“The LTA wanted enough done to prove conclusively that we weren’t something we’re not for an independent report. They took enough blood for us to get a badge.”

“That will be for the A and B samples, the full WADA route. They weren’t taking any chances. The first results will be out by the end of next week, if they prioritise them, so that you can play in the finals if you get there.”

“Any idea what our schedule is, now?”

“Tomorrow, you both play the round two singles games. They’ve set them both in the afternoon, one after the other, on Court Three, which has spectator seating. It appears that you two are drawing crowds now. You’re both up against wildcards. Alice, your opponent is making a comeback after having a child. Geraldine, you’ll be taking on one who had a knee reconstruction last year. They won’t be easy matches.”

He was right. My match went three sets, all hard fought, but I prevailed six-four in the last to continue. Geraldine had really learned a lot and made her opponent run around and work her damaged leg, winning in straight sets. In both matches, we had a strong support from a noisy crowd and our beaming parents in courtside seats.

Marianne Gregory © 2026