I shook my head, as if doing so could ward off the tears that were welling up. I was a grown man, I hadn’t cried in years. Many years.“When’s th... funeral?” she asked.I swallowed hard. “The day after tomorrow.”“Do you want the girls to go?”I nodded. “I think so. I think it’s ... important.”She nodded and laid her head against my chest again, seeking comfort in the certainty of my body. “I’ll miss her.”“Me too,” I said, my voice raspy with pent-up emotion.My chest was tight and I felt a growing. . she made small talk, wondering what the apartment would be like, how many people would be there, that kind of stuff. After her second (double) she was, I think getting quite excited. I don't know if it was the same for her, but for me it was like the feeling, a mixture of trepidation, fear and excitement you get as you queue up for one of those rides at Alton Towers, you know the nasty ones that defy gravity and turn you inside out.We found the apartment block and rang the mobile number, a. Domestic workers were considered the lowest form of slaves and one of them might sell for as little as four Kobestis or twenty pounds sterling if she was small, old or otherwise poorly suited to working.It was the pleasure workers which interested David the most. These were the harem slaves who were concubines trained to please men. The price of these, Old Saud explained, depended more on their pedigree and provenance than on anything else. As an example he cited Djamilla, who would fetch next. It was only when it was suggested as a cure for his lung cancerthat he accepted its potential and welcomed the news of a femalerecipient.So, I feel 100% female now. I know this foreign brain (I have to keeptaking anti-rejection pills) is all made with Y-chromosomes, but it hasbeen steeped in oestrogens for over three months now and I'm sure Ihaven't had a single male thought since the first week. I decidedimmediately to always refer to Roger in the third person and to myprevious brain.