Chapter 4
The next day, we presented ourselves at the university for our short course. We were directed to an office where the lecturer sat us at a table with three laptops on it.
“Welcome to this short course. I’ll be taking you through it here in this office, and away from the general students. There are no other police students here, as the current crop are all working from various stations. I’ll give you a lecture every morning, for the next fifteen working days, and you’ll be using these laptops to do the project I give you in the afternoon. The last week will be a larger project as the final exam.”
Hortense smiled at him.
“This has been sprung on us, sir. It wasn’t in any of the papers we were given at the start.”
“That’s because what I’m teaching you usually comes in during the third year. It’s really an introduction to what a sergeant or a new inspector is taught. We do report writing, working out a roster, managing others, and learning about budgets.”
“Isn’t that a bit above our pay grade, sir?”
“It is, for the moment. Let’s get into it, shall we?”
Over the next few weeks, we discovered the inner workings of running a police office. It took us to places we had never realised existed. It was information that we never thought we would need as we were operational officers. During that month, though, we discussed my situation, and, on the third Friday, I went into the Academy and spoke to the CI and the doctor, setting up my minor operation in the first week after the uni had finished, and asking for a two-week break for the three of us. We did the final exams, and I left the girls in the flat on the Saturday morning, copies of my medical records and scans in a bag.
I had rung my parents on the Friday evening to tell them I would be visiting them. I took the bus into the city, and then a ferry to Birkenhead and a bus to Overton, followed by the short walk home. As I approached, I realised that it wasn’t home any longer, the flat with my two friends was really my home now.
During a lovely lunch with my parents, they tried to get me to tell them what I was doing. I stayed quiet about my real job but spoke about going to university, which they approved of. We sat at the kitchen table, and I pulled out the paperwork to tell them that this was the last time that they would be seeing their son, Abel.
I hadn’t thought it through. I had the idea that they would love me through thick and thin. The problem was that my father got the idea that this was a lifestyle decision on my part, as I had gone queer. Later that afternoon, I left the place that I had called home, the papers torn up by my father as he told me that if I was so sure that I was going to transition, then he wished me well and goodbye. My mother pressed a piece of paper in my hand as she hugged me, tears in her eyes.
I backtracked to the flat, stopping for a meal in Liverpool before catching the bus back to Mather Avenue. The girls hugged me when I got in, twenty-four hours before I said I would be back. It may have been a hard way for it to happen, but I was now clear to follow my calling.
On the Monday, I was in a clinic for the ‘alterations’. Two days later, with the new breast inserts in place and an interesting cover over where my penis was hiding, we were back in the flat. I had given the girls some money and they had been out to get me some basic underwear and outerwear. No skirts or dresses, just jeans and slacks. They had also got me a couple of shoulder bags and a make-up kit.
For the rest of the two weeks while the bruising faded, I started everyday showering and dressing in a soft bra and panties, with a loose top and slacks, nothing tight until everything was good. The most novel thing was the feeling of hosiery and shoes with low heels. At the end of the fortnight, I joined the girls to walk to the Academy. The CI welcomed us.
“Good morning, you three. We have a new course for you. It will take place at the Unit and will allow us to set up your new identities. This time they will be the ones that you will normally use in the future, leaving your real names behind. Leave your things in the flat, as there will be clothing for you at the Unit. You’ll be there until you complete the project, after that there will be a real-life test.”
We were sent back to the flat to get ready, with just an overnight bag to organise. Once upon a time, that would have meant a toothbrush in a pocket, but now was a lot more personal hygiene products. We were driven to the Unit in the Transit with blacked-out windows.
Magnus, Nora and Petra welcomed us, and we were settled into the building we had stayed in before. This time, the wardrobes were stocked with a lot of clothes and shoes. That afternoon, Petra took us one at a time to work her magic.
Today wasn’t to turn into street kids or gang members. Today, she turned each of us from teenagers into young women. Hortense was first in, didn’t take very long, and came back to us a vision of loveliness that made me gulp. Matilda was next, and the result was almost as good, seeing that Hortense did have an advantage before the session.
When I went in, Petra sat me at the vanity and looked me over.
“You’ve changed a bit since I last saw you.”
“Only a little cosmetic changes, Petra.”
“I’m not going to make you girly today. We do have to make you stand out, and you don’t have a chance with competing with the other two. I think that we’ll go semi-goth, a sort of Cruella DeVil. We’ll give you jet black hair, and you’ll look good in black, with bright red for the lips and nails. We’ll stay clear of piercings and tats, but I intend to pierce your ears.”
She took the longest time as she added extensions to my hair and turned my dark brown into jet black. The ear piercings didn’t hurt as much as I expected, getting two at the top and one in the standard place on the lobe. She shaped the brows and dyed them with the same mix that she had used on my hair. Bit by bit, Abel disappeared. She injected something around my lips and then painted them bright red. Before I got dressed, she did all my nails in the same colour, with fingernail extensions that were carefully shaped. She got me to change into a black bra and panty set, knee high stockings and then a pair of black tight leather jeans, black boots and a sheer satin blouse, which I wasn’t allowed to button up as far as I would have liked.
When I went back to the girls, they squealed and hugged me. Matilda looked me over and declared that I really rocked that style. Petra had told me that we had to go and see Magnus as soon as we could, so we walked over to the farmhouse, with me slowly getting used to the extra height on these boots.
Magnus sat us down and had the kettle on for a brew. He told us that we really looked good, and that the gang scene had become too dangerous for us now, following a series of very successful raids in Toxteth and surrounding areas.
“What we have for you is another teaching session here. We will be visited by a member of another security branch and the three of you will be taught how to pick forgeries by creating your own new identities. These will replace your original names and back story. This means that you will create a new history, school records, all the things needed to apply for a passport. We will arrange a day for you to retake your driving test in the new name. The trick is to get as much of the paperwork from genuine sources as you can. When you have that done, there will be a coach trip in Europe to shadow someone that we think isn’t as lily-white as he makes out to be.”
“What about our real identities?”
“I’m sorry, ladies. It’s time for you to leave the past in the past. You have reached a point in your training that is about two years early. When you have finished all that, we have some new things for you to do. Things are happening that will affect your future. Our Unit has attracted some attention from other branches, which is why we will be visited by one of them to teach you. Take it easy over the next weeks and all will be revealed.”
The next weeks were more than interesting. We were set up in one of the other buildings and our visitor taught us about getting the right paper, the right ink, and to learn how to copy all sorts of fonts and hands. We started in the first hour by taking passport pictures of each other and copying the words required to prove our existence. We had weeks of sitting at a desk with a strong light, looking at samples that Hedley North had brought with him, and creating our own that was better. After that, it was just waiting for government departments to do their job. It was during that time, the longest that we had spent in the Unit, that we had other operatives joining us for short stays.
When the visitor from spookland left us, we had full histories and the paperwork to back it up. I was now Alexandria Anne Arnold, Matilda was Mary Jane Smith, and Hortense was Hope Elizabeth Woods. We joined a coach tour of France, taking turns shadowing a man who spent much of the trip meeting odd people in dark places who we photographed with the special, low light, phones we had been supplied with. It was almost too easy, as the man was so sure of himself that he took no precautions at all.
Every day, we sent the photos to HQ to identify the other person. At the end of the trip, we were taken back to the Unit. We were never told why we did this operation, but there was quite a shake-up in the Home Office a few weeks later.
By that time, we were on our next task. We were to learn how to run the Unit. While the next intake of Degree Apprentices were in the Academy, we were being taught how to look after the paperwork, being told the people that we needed to contact for different things, and how to write the reports to the Upper Echelons of the Mersey Police. On top of that, I joined Nora working the fields and taking produce to a market every month, as well as her teaching me about the various types of communication and surveillance devices. Hope was shadowing Magnus in the day-to-day running, while Mary was with Petra, learning advanced cosmetics and dressmaking.
The day before we were due to receive the new trainees, the other three packed their bags and left us to sink or swim. There were four that came in the Transit van, with their luggage. We put them in our old building, since we had moved into the main house last night. We treated them as we had been treated and sent them off on their first task the next day, watching the dots on one computer and monitoring the social media on the other. They were lucky in that the day was misty and damp, and we giggled as they broke most of the rules that we had followed. I printed off the picture of them coming back along the Ox Lane and we pinned it to the wall of the kitchen, next to a blurry picture of a masked person standing next to the sign on the Expressway, with a caption that read ‘Funny sort of people they send out to clean the signs.’
It was Hope that had the duty to ream them out, telling them that they had not signed up to play games. We took them through every yard of their task. Showed them sightlines where they could have been seen, the reason that they had been seen, and the huge mistake in thinking that the task had finished with the second picture. We told them the right way, and we sent them off to do it again.
It was close to dinner when they returned, having done everything right. Next day, we gave them breakfast and their wet fatigues and sent them out in the bright sunshine to do it again, emphasising that it was all about picking the right time to expose yourselves and to ensure that nobody saw you.
This time, they took their time and got back in time for lunch. They were picked up that afternoon. We sent the full report to the CI and prepared to continue life, looking after older operatives when they came to us for a break, and keeping the Unit clean and tidy.
We had a budget to work to, and we had the produce sales to supplement the income with the other two now sharing the work in the fields. All we needed to shop for was meat and other things we couldn’t produce at the farm, as we grew our own vegetables and baked our own bread. Hope looked after our chickens, and Mary was very good at preparing older ones for the table. There was an old Land Rover that we used to take the produce trailer to the market, and which was loaded with goods to bring back.
We were there for two years, taking our university lessons through Zoom meetings, much of the Business Studies covering things we were now doing for real. In the two summers we went, one at a time, to a special course in London, where we were trained in the things that you read about in spy novels. Drop boxes, secret signs, transforming our appearance at the drop of a hat. I was now happy in skirts and dresses, and nobody could now guess that I still had my dangly bit under the cover, which I had been trained to remove and reapply after cleaning.
We all graduated with our degrees, all three of us with honours, and were immediately given a pay rise to that of a sergeant. The paperwork was in our original names, so we looked at them, had a celebratory drink, and burned the scrolls. The end of the next summer as fully trained operatives, we were joined by Magnus, Nora, and Petra again, and given two months to catch up with our holidays. We talked it over and decided that we would like to go somewhere that we had never been, so spent the two months in New Zealand, in a wonderful spring full of trees in bloom and great food. We were three attractive girls on holiday, and soon attracted attention of single men. We went out on dates in almost every place we stopped, hardly ever having to buy a meal or a drink. Mary and Hope were able to get past their hatred of men and sometimes came back to the hotel in the early hours, while I would draw the line at anything other than passionate kissing sessions and a little handy pandy with my breasts, always saying that I was on the time of the month.
When we picked up our bags at Heathrow, there was a guy with a board with Hopes’ name on it. We went over to him, and he led us out to a people mover with darkened windows, taking us to Thames House. There, we were given passes and taken to an office where three people waited for us. One was our Chief Inspector.
“Alex, Mary and Hope. I think that it’s time you got back to work. You attracted the attention of the Service, and they have requested that we allow your transfer. We have come to an agreement, and I will leave you in the hands of these two people, who will take you through the induction process and settle you in your new home. It’s been a pleasure to work with you, and an even bigger pleasure to know you.”
He gave each of us a hug and a whispered ‘good luck’ and he left the room. Of the two that were left, the man was Hedley North, who had taught us about forging, and the other one was a woman, who he introduced as Clara West.
“Alex, Mary and Hope. Welcome to The Service. Since the years that we were given the job to look after domestic security, back in the days that we were called MI5, there have been some changes. We now can legally have our operatives involved in criminal activities without any chance of arrest. That does include using violence, up to and including committing murder if it is needed to integrate into a criminal gang. We have the task of monitoring criminal gangs, as you did in Liverpool, as well as now keeping tabs of far-right groups. You will be taken to a temporary accommodation and will undergo some more training. Miss West will be your controller and immediate superior. I’ll leave you in her capable hands.”
He also left the room. Miss West smiled at us.
“I know that this may be a bit of a shock, but you three have been watched since your days at the Academy. You have proved to be a very diligent team with a strong inclination to detail and also following orders as given. We have a new place where you will be living. It’s a bit like the Ox Lane farm, but without a stall at a produce market. It’s situated outside of Sheffield and has been equipped with up-to-date monitoring equipment. You will be able to listen to mobile phone calls, radio messages, and even email traffic. That’s what most of your training will be on.”
“That sounds serious.”
“It is serious, Hope. The antenna array is hidden in an old silo, the farmhouse is large and had been used by a business, so giving us a big workshop that we could set up as a control room.”
“What do we do with the information?”
“You will sift it for words or phrases that signal the need to follow up. You will send us anything you think we need to know, and you can go into the field to investigate. You may be asked to join an organisation and then blend in to get more information. Your main aim for us is the far right, anything with gangs will be sent on to the police who will then act on it.”
“Why us?”
“Because you’re so good. You can work independently, and your accents won’t stand out in the area, being somewhat northern. Your area of interest is the triangle of Leeds, Sheffield and Manchester. It’s a long-term deployment, so consider it your home for years. Find your place in the locality, make friends, go out for dinners, do whatever three girls would do naturally. Hope, your name is on the deeds as an inheritance from a long-lost aunt. The three of you have been friends for a long while, so it’s no big thing that you all live together.”
We were inducted into the Service, given IDs to use in Thames House, given a quick medical and issued with our own guns after a session in the basement range. We were taken to the apartment where we were stay for a month while we were trained in running programs to filter all the information that the antenna array would be capturing. Our computer would be able to access all the Service records that we were allowed to see, as well as all of the Police systems, even searching traffic and CCTV camera storage.
When we were taken to our new home, it was in two estate cars. Clara driving one and Hope the other. I was with Clara and she waited until we were heading north before she shook me to my core.
“Alex, there is something I need you to know as we’re alone. It may come as a shock, but not as much as a shock if you discover it on your own. Your father is on a list of known right-wing activists. He’s mainly just a follower in a group that is based on the Wirral.”
“That’s not much of a shock, considering what he was like on the last occasion we spoke.”
“I doubt that he will ever come into your sphere of interest, but if he does, you know what you have to do.”
“I understand, Clara.”
“There are a couple of other things that you should know about your old family. One is that your oldest sister, Abigail, is now living in Australia with a family. Her husband was one of the staff of the Australian Embassy, who met her as he was travelling around studying British life. He now works in Canberra, and they have a good life.”
“I’m glad. She had left home before I went to high school. Amelia was the one who looked after me, and I followed her to the martial arts studio. She went to flat share with Abigail in Manchester.”
“That’s the other thing you should know. Amelia is also on a list. It popped up as we were vetting you for this job. She is now living with another girl and is suspected of being the heavy for an all-girl street gang in Manchester. Although she can look after herself, she isn’t a match for your skills.”
“That makes me sorry for my mother. I have no regrets about leaving home, just sad that I left her alone. Now you’re telling me that she’s totally alone.”
“I did look further. She is volunteering in a homeless centre. She has a large group of friends that she sees. There’s a note in your room to tell you where she meets with them.”
“Are you telling me to break cover?”
“I’m telling you that you can sit in a café and tell her that you love her if you want. There’s no way you can tell her what you’re now doing or where she can find you. We may be sticklers for the rules, but we’re not heartless.”
“Thank you for all of that. I’ll keep it all in mind. It’s not as if we’re dashing off in a couple of months.”
When we arrived at the farmhouse, just off Dale Road, about ten miles from the centre of Sheffield and twenty miles from Manchester, we were shown our rooms, already stocked with working and athletic outfits. We unloaded our bags and the boxes of food that we had put together and stored everything away. We were shown the control room, which had a coded door and was totally self-contained and air conditioned. We also had a secure cupboard containing an arsenal big enough to fend off the Eighth Army.
The silo, when we looked inside, was similar to a space centre, bristling with antennae and dishes. We flipped the switches to turn everything on and went back to the control room to listen to what they were collecting. It was a jumble of sound until Clara pressed the filter button. The computer screen showed a message to read, and we had our first bit of information.
Clara left us, leaving us one of the cars, and we were on our own again, with the latest in surveillance equipment at our fingertips. Not only that, but we were also free to search in all the databases. I was sure that our searches would be monitored, so I didn’t even think about doing my own research.
We settled into the new lifestyle, creating a roster for cooking, cleaning, laundry and time at the control desk. We gave one of us a full weekend off, rotating that with the other two working long shifts for the two days. We were warm, comfortable and had plenty to do. For the three of us, life was good.
Marianne Gregory © 2026