Chapter 29: Mark Is Dead, Long Live Mark

Femke

The tenth stage had changed everything. Most teams had changed their attitude towards us significantly. They were all willing to engage in petty politics, but when a fellow rider was attacked people banded together.

The only Spanish team in the race had collectively withdrawn from it, sending out a strongly worded press release that condemned the attack on Lydia and the role Spanish media had played in the last few weeks. There were some rumors behind the scenes that they had withdrawn out of fear that doping controls could be tightened due to the renewed media attention on Lydia’s interview, but we knew that was bollocks. It was a small continental team that was known for swimming against the trend in Spain, which was why their results were not exactly stellar by Spanish standards.

Apart from Lydia’s spectacular finish on the Pic de Nore, neither were ours though. We finished the last two stages anonymously in the pack and I ended up 64th in the standings. Lydia had worked her way up to 12th after her stage win, but we all knew how that had ended. We couldn’t even salvage something from the team standings. Since all but Lydia had come in with the autobus on stage ten, we had dropped to second to last, and then last when the Spanish team withdrew.

It ended up being a very bitter sweet victory, but Lydia’s finish had put our team name into many notebooks, and invitations for some very interesting races started to come in. One was for a two-rider time trial event in Germany, which sounded like an ideal event for Lydia and me, if she could get fit again in time.

Hamburg, June 20th 1993

Mark

The day had come and after nearly two weeks of looking like a mummy, the last few bandages had come off and I would now be officially someone else. Looking into the mirror for the first time had been surreal, considering I had to get used to having a different face.

Granted, someone who had been around me a lot would probably find some resemblance, but there was no way I could be identified by someone who had last seen me two years ago. The job they had done on my nose and cheekbones had made my face a lot less round, a bit more mature looking.

I had constructed most of my new identity myself. I was now Mark Jason Harris, son of British immigrants to America. I had kept the first name, because I didn’t want any of the few people who knew my old identity to slip up, and it was a common enough name to begin with. The bit about British immigrants was a necessity. Although, unlike mom, I didn’t speak English with a German accent, I had mostly learned from British teachers and never really acquired an American twang. That way I could easily explain why I spoke with a distinct British pronunciation, but mixed in American terms as well.

The next days were full of administrative work. I had to get photos made so I could get my various new papers – passport, visa, an American driving license. Of course most people involved in this process knew that I was in a witness protection program, but nobody knew why or who I had been before. Nobody asked any questions. I got handed all my documents either at the American consulate or the German authorities. Since I was no longer a German citizen, I had to get a long-term visa to be allowed to stay.

That was the bit I grappled most with. After two days I had gotten used to my new look and comfortable with speaking English only, but being treated like a foreigner in the country I was born in hit me harder than I had thought.

Meri

Regina had arrived the day before, not wanting to miss the great reveal of Lydia’s new boyfriend Mark. Of course she knew who he was, but she also knew that Lydia was apprehensive, because technically she had lost her son. Mark Karrass was now officially deceased after a car accident. John had worked overtime to keep anything of that from reaching the press to prevent Lydia being in the spotlight yet again.

The only ones who knew that bit of news were Mark’s best friend Jonjo and little Jenny. Jonjo was in the loop about Lydia and Mark, so he knew his best friend wasn’t really dead, but little Jenny had taken it surprisingly hard. Telling her that the ‘uncle Mark’ who had taken her karting was not coming back was necessary to explain why soon another man would appear in Lydia’s house. Apparently the two of them had hit off well during his visit at Regina’s place and we realized that the young one had actually convinced herself that he was her mom’s new boyfriend. Having never had a dad in her life, Jenny had gotten her hopes up she would finally have one.

It had hit us quite hard when we realized that the person we least expected to had been hurt quite badly by Mark’s identity change.

Regina

Lydia’s sister had taken Jenny to the karting track, the only thing that took her mind off her grief at the moment, but also to not have her around when Mark arrived. We were all rather nervous, most of all – Lydia. She paced the room like a caged tiger, but she froze when we heard the key in the lock of the front door. In fact all three of us stood in the living room doing a pretty good impression of Lot’s wife.

He walked into the room, let the duffle bag slide off his shoulder and we spent endless seconds just staring at each other, with no clue what to do now.

Lydia was the first to break out of her funk. She broke into tears and jumped into his arms. He hugged her tightly as she let go of all the pent up anxiety. Yep, he was definitely Mark. The same gentle soothing gestures, the soft look in his eyes. His features looked a bit more chiseled, manly even, but his entire demeanor made it clear that he was still the same man we all loved.

Lydia

I had to say, I had been very apprehensive about his new look, but I instantly liked it. His more manly features would be a big help in making the final transition from mother to lover – and ultimately – wife.

I had become a blubbering wreck for the first half hour after his arrival, but Meri and Regina did their best to break the weird mood. They upstaged each other with ever more hilariously over-the-top praise for what a manly man I had gotten myself for a boyfriend and if they could borrow him once in a while. In the end we were all laughing.

Finally Mark helped himself to a beer – the first he had had in a month and delivered the ultimate proof that he was still the same as ever.

“How come you’re all overdressed?” he asked cheekily. “I had hoped to see shirts and bras flying all over the place. After all, I need to check that Lydia’s boob has healed properly.”

“Yep, he’s definitely Mark,” Meri quipped.

“There’s time for that in the evening, lover boy. First we need to work out a way to get you introduced to Jenny.”

Regina

I should have known that we didn’t really need a plan. One of the reasons why Jenny had gotten hopes of ‘old Mark’ being her daddy was because he had acted like one. That he could make grown women feel like they’re the center of the universe was something that Lydia, Meri and I knew all too well, but he had also a way with children.

When Jenny had come home from the karting track, she was still looking like death warmed over. Mark asked her in mangled German why she was so sad. That opened the dam again and in tears she told him about how her ‘uncle Mark’ had died in a car crash. Bless his heart, he was probably as shocked as we had been the day before about how bad she had taken the news, but he didn’t let it show.

He told her that his name was Mark too and asked her if she wanted to tell him a bit about her uncle.

That did the trick. Obviously amused because he ‘speaks funny’, Jenny started to tell him about the two weeks with ‘uncle Mark’, not knowing that she was telling him his own life. That was the moment I realized that he hadn’t spoken a word of German since he had arrived and that he was doing a fairly convincing American accent. Apparently he had put my Rik De Lisle tapes to good use.

Later that day I was still in awe how brilliantly Mark had handled the first meeting with Jenny. Not only had he patiently listened to stories about himself, he had also played a blinder when Jenny told him about how she had to teach uncle Mark everything about racing and how much fun that had been. He asked her if she could teach him too, as he also knew little about racing.

The little one said she couldn’t as she didn’t have her tapes with her, and I suppressed my instinctual complaints about having money spent on us when he told her he would take her and her mom to the town the next day to buy some.

Knackered from the day’s events and in much better spirits the little one said good night to everyone and trundled off when Lydia’s sister came to collect her and prepare her for bed.

We waited until the basement door was shut and shirts and bras went flying. I nearly wrapped myself around Mark, thanking him for how he had handled the situation.

“I agree,” Lydia said and gave him a kiss. “Would you take Regina to the guest room tonight?”

I gasped.

“Lydia, you haven’t seen him for a month and this is your first night as official lovers.”

“Oh, I would if I could,” she said with a giggle and poured wine for the girls. Mark had his beer.

“Self preservation,” Meri explained. “Lydia has a race in two days, and before the last one she had Mark do her up the rear-end for two days flat. You should have seen what knots she had to tie herself into. Try telling the team doctor that your ass is sore for three days without telling him why.”

We all laughed about that.

“Will you be even fit enough for a race?” I asked her. “From what I’ve seen in the papers you must have been out for at least two weeks. You looked all cut up.”

“You don’t know her stubbornness,” Meri answered for Lydia. “She had to go naked for a week because just wearing anything was painful. When I came home from the race, two days after Lydia, she was already back on the roll, training like a madwoman, stark naked and weeping in pain.”

I just shook my head in awe.

“I take it he will be exiled to your bed tomorrow to save Lydia from herself?” I asked with a giggle.

Meri nodded with a grin.

“But after the race he’s mine,” Lydia insisted, giggling herself.

“Oh, don’t worry,” I assured her. “Meri and I will be busy plundering the shops for stuff we need for the great holiday bash at Prerow. We’ll need hundreds of camping knickknacks for a two week stay.”

“Did I miss something?” Mark chipped in.

“Oops, we never got round to telling you, did we. How would you feel going to Prerow for two weeks with four girls?”

“You want to take Jenny with us?” he asked me.

I shook my head. “Jenny hates the sea now, for obvious reasons. She’ll be only too glad to stay here with her favorite auntie and embarrass the boys on the karting track.”

“So who’s coming?” he asked Lydia.

“Femke, if you’re not opposed to the idea.”

“So, let me get this right; you propose I get to spend a two-week holiday in the company of four naked women. That’s a tricky one.”

Lydia swatted him on the arm.

Meri

I had to admire Lydia’s strength of will. Finally she could live with Mark as lovers, and she gave him away to Regina and me for the first two nights. I hadn’t spoken with Regina about it, but we had obviously thought the same – his first time as Mark Jason Harris should happen with Lydia, not one of us.

And we were not the only ones who thought like that. Mark made no moves at all. He even kept his hands off my boobs all night, which for a certified tit fetishist like him was quite a feat. We did however let him have an unobstructed view of them in the evenings, all three of us.

Mark

I admit, I was awfully nervous. For the first time I would be accompanying my better half to a race. Since this was an event for duos of riders, the team’s posse was a bit smaller than usual, but meeting Femke for the first time since my identity change was a first test if it stood up to scrutiny from someone who had known the old me.