to and from Guy’s hospital took me through these contrasting areas of London’s rich and poor. Every day I saw the transformation of the city, beautiful villas to filthy bottom-of-the-pit hovels with garbage or battered hats replacing missing windowpanes.
And so did I transform, from the bacteriologist and epidemiologist Anton Kronberg to Anna, medical nurse. I knew that changing identities had its risks, but I gladly took them. In Boston I had lived as Anton only and after three years my own body had become a stranger to me. The lack of a penis was highly bothersome and my breasts were useless and ugly appendages which, at some point, I hid even at night. After many weeks of tightly bandaging my chest, I got a breast infection that threw me down with a dangerously high fever and excruciating pain. I spend a week in bed, naked. After that I could not hide my female identity for much longer than a day. I needed to be Anna, to not lose myself.
~~~
Once at home, I quickly ate a sandwich and drank two cups of tea. Then I washed the oil out of my hair and the dissection odour from my body and dressed in a black sateen corset, a camisole, a petticoat, and a dark blue silk dress. Looking at myself in the half blind glass at the wall, I saw a woman I barely recognised. My dress poured from a too slim waist down to my feet, both stuck in tightly laced black leather boots. I wore a black velvet hat with a single raven feather stuck in the hat band. Black curls peeked out from underneath, almost reaching my chin. This hairdo was definitely too progressive and onlookers may think I was off to some radical feminist meeting.
But it wasn’t only my hair. Everything about my face screamed oddity at me – the constantly bold sparkle in my green eyes, the too determined black eyebrows, the decisive chin, and the too long nose, all made me look like a bird of prey. As a woman I looked too masculine. As a man I looked too feminine.
I shook my head and snatched the package off the table, took a small handbag, and started south. I had just turned a corner when I heard the flap-flap-flap of naked feet on the ground, hushed voices and whispers of children. They started splitting up to get to me from two different sides. I had to grin.
‘ Oy! Is that you guys or a swarm of cockroaches?’ I shouted over my shoulder.
The splattering of feet came to a sudden stop.
‘ Anna? Tha’ ya?’ A boy's voice enquired.
‘ No! Drat! I'm undercover! I'm disguised as a lady, you idiot!’ I mocked him. Someone chuckled and I turned around to show my face.
‘ Y a can’t walk 'round like that!’ Barry sounded concerned and then nodded determined. ‘We give ya protection. Where’d ya wanna go?’ Then h e walked up to me and offered his dirty arm. ‘My lady?’ he said poignantly and I laughed out loud, thanked him, and took the offered aid. The kids walked me two blocks to the next cab; I bowed to them for their services to Ladyhood, and took the hansom to Baker Street.
~~~
Mrs Hudson led me up the stairs and opened the door to Holmes's room s. Two men were occupying both arm chairs. One was Holmes, who started coughing clouds of pipe smoke the moment I entered. The man next to him was moustached and stocky. He wore a wedding band that looked new. Both had their feet on the coffee table when I entered; they were comfortable together, good friends. This must be Watson. I took off my hat, stepped closer, and offered him my hand.
‘ Dr Watson?’
He nodded and squeezed it lightly without saying a word.
‘ I am Anna Kronberg. It is a pleasure to meet you, Dr Watson.’
Wordlessly he offered me his chair with a wave of his arm.
‘ Thank you, I was on my feet the whole day.’ I sat down. The coffee table would have done it, too, but my dress didn't permit that.
‘ My dear Watson, would you give us a few minutes of privacy, please?’ Holmes asked kindly. Watson nodded and retreated into the bedroom.
‘ I am truly sorry,’ said
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