Summerswitch Part 01
by Maeryn Lamonte

And there she was.

One minute I’m sitting at the back of the classroom with my head in a book, trying not to attract any attention, the next I’m transfixed as sheets of ice and fire course though my body. How can the mere sight of another human being be so intoxicating, such a wild rush?

My name is Jerry Newington, I’m fifteen and my family have just moved to the Midlands. It’s early June and I just started at my new school this week with just six weeks to go before the summer break.

I’ve never made friends that easily and this place is turning out to be just the same as everywhere else I’ve lived. Most of the guys here don’t seem too interested in making friends with me, and the once or twice that I’ve tried to join in when something interesting’s been going on resulted in me being told to get lost or them laughing at my accent, or maybe a bit of both. In the end as usual I just keep to myself and try to go places where the dickheads who want to beat me up won’t find me.

I mean if they did find me there’s no question I’d have the crap beaten out of me. I’m kind of weedy and have always hated physical violence. Similar things happened to me in other schools and it always goes down the same. First they catch up with me in some secluded part of the school, then all the strength goes out of my legs and I can’t run, then they shout at me till I start crying — I mean what the hell, I’m a guy! How come I can’t stop myself from crying? Next they start laughing at me and kicking the living shit out of me while I curl up into a ball on the ground, and finally they spread it around the school that I’m a poof and a cry-baby.

There aren’t too many uppers about moving here, but right now there are two things I can be thankful for. The first is that the all-muscle-and-no-brain brigade hasn’t caught up with me so far, so I have yet to earn my usual reputation as school wimp. The second is Alexandra Moore.

Alex, she prefers, is the most beautiful girl in the whole world. She has shoulder length blonde hair, deep brown eyes and the most exquisite face you can imagine. I don’t know what sets her apart from the other girls, but every time I see her, I go weak at the knees and all the breath goes out of my body. I mean I’ve never tried drugs or stuff like that, but I can’t imagine getting high to be anywhere near as good as this feeling.

She’s in the same form group as me and is the form monitor this term which means she collects the register and calls the names first thing in the morning and lunchtime. To hear her say my name is like a jolt of electricity, and it’s almost more than I can manage simply to reply.

So here am I sitting at the back of the class, staring at her over my forgotten book and listening to the music of her voice.

“Jerry Newington?” She looks up at where I’m sitting.

It feels like I have a golf ball in my throat and I struggle to swallow before I can answer.

“Yeah.”

It sounds like little more than a whisper, but the movement of her hand shows that she’s ticked me in as usual. The room recedes a little and I half listen to the other names being called, envious of the attention they’re now getting.

My heart’s still pounding when the bell rings and we all head off for first period. Alex has already gone with the register and it felt like my guts were torn out when she left the room. I might see her at break time, might even get close enough to say a quiet “Hi Alex”, but she’ll be with her friends and I doubt she’ll even notice me.

I pick up my bag and head out. First lesson is English and we’re writing poetry at the moment. At least I’ll be able to pour out some of my feeling into that.

-oOo-

OK, so we’re three weeks into the term now. I’ve still managed to avoid being beaten up by changing my habits at random. Today I’ll spend break walking around the tennis courts, yesterday was the library and tomorrow I’ll probably head down to the sports field. The weather’s too good to waste too much of it inside.

Things with Alex are still as bad. Worse in fact as I think some people are beginning to notice. I need to work up the courage to say something to her, but I can’t. It’s like a punch in the stomach every time I get anywhere near her, and even if I could get my breath enough to say something my mind goes completely blank. I want to tell her how I feel but I can’t. I mean what if she laughs? That would be worse than death.

Besides she’s always with her friends and the last thing I need is them spreading all over the school that I fancy Alex Moore.

I can only be thankful that I don’t have any classes with her. Well except for Religious Education that is, and nobody really cares how much time you put into that, not even the teachers it seems. I mean I don’t feel particularly thankful. I hate that I don’t get to spend any more time with her, but given that I’m so distracted in RE lessons that I barely get any work done, I guess I should be grateful that she isn’t there to get into my mind when I’m studying something that matters to me.

I have to say something to her though. Think, think, think. Where can I talk to her when she’s not in the company of half a dozen other girls? Before the summer break comes I need to at least try. I mean I can’t imagine six weeks without her in my life.

-oOo-

Well that’s it, the first term survived at this new school. The bullies seem to have just about given up trying to corner me and I’ve even found one or two other guys in my year who share some of my interests. We’ve arranged to meet up for a Dungeons and Dragons session or two during the summer and who knows, maybe we’ll start a D&D club next year, at least for the first term or so before we have to start swotting for exams.

The end of term assembly was kind of embarrassing as I actually won a prize. We spent some time looking at Shakespeare’s sonnets in English and as a kind of preparation we were given a homework on love poetry. I put all of the feelings I had for Alex into mine and it must have been quite good because it won me the prize for best literary effort. The worst was they made me read it out loud to the school when I went up to collect my prize. Still I got a shield with my name on it that I get to keep for a year and twenty quid in book tokens, so not a total bust.

With the prize giving over, the rest of the assembly dragged to an uneventful end and we were all dismissed for six weeks of nothing much to do. We were sitting in form groups and were let out two rows at a time. As luck would have it I found myself walking out next to…

“H-hey Alex,” I stammered, hardly able to believe that she was here next to me.

“Hi Jerry,” she was so much more composed and I envied her. “That was a lovely poem.”

“I wrote it for you.” The words were at the tip of my tongue and I so wanted to say them. Instead all I could manage was, “Th-thanks.”

We reached our bags and headed for the school gates. We were officially free for the rest of the summer.

Come on Jerry this is your chance, be a man.

The gates were looming where she would head to the left and me to the right. Come ON Jerry.

“I was…” I stammered out a couple of words before I dried up, but she looked at me expectantly and I found a moment’s courage. “I was wondering if you’d like to meet up sometime during the holidays. You know meet up in town one day and do stuff?”

It was said. My heart was pounding so much that I began to wonder if my ribs were strong enough to contain it.

She smiled at me, but there was something in her eyes I couldn’t quite read. She opened her mouth, but just as she was about to reply a cry went up behind me.

“Newington!”

It was Billy Cooper, the arsehole who’d been hunting for me all term. I think seeing me up on the stage accepting my prize had reminded him that he still wanted to beat me up.

“Oh shit!” I said under my breath, then to Alex, “Look sorry, but I really have to go.”

She gave me a sad and slightly apologetic smile and jerked her chin in the direction of the school gates.

I ran and Billy ran after me. Almost everyone in the school was laughing as I exited the grounds as fast as I could. I gave him a good chase as well. I must have stayed ahead of him for about two hundred yards before things went wrong.

Never look over your shoulder when someone’s chasing you; if it doesn’t do anything else it slows you down and Billy was one of the school athletes. Soccer team, rugby team, one and two hundred yard sprint champion, he had pretty much all of it and I had nothing to show for my half-hearted attempts in PE. When I looked over my shoulder he had made up all but five yards on me, surprising me so much that I missed my footing and sprawled onto the pavement.

Billy all but tripped over me, but then recovered enough to start hitting and kicking me. At least we’d turned a corner so the school didn’t get to witness my humiliation. I curled up into a ball and waited for the blows to stop. By the time they did, both my blazer and my shirt were ripped and my ribs ached like I’d been run over by a steam roller.

“You’re a pathetic piece of shit,” Billy told me when he’d finished. “You’re not worth the effort.” And with that he headed back the way he had come.

I wish I could say I didn’t cry out, but he had six weeks of frustration to get out of his system and some of his blows hit some pretty tender spots. I don’t know how long I lay on the ground sobbing after he left, but I missed my bus and had to wait thirty minutes for the next one.

“Oh, Jerry!” Mum wasn’t best pleased with my appearance when I finally got home. “I thought you were done with this fighting.”

I couldn’t believe it.

“You think I did this? You think I started this?”

“It takes two people to fight Jerry.” Disapproval dripped from every syllable.

“Unless one of them happens to be a punching bag,” I yelled back. “I didn’t say or do anything to start this. I didn’t fight back. Hell, I even tried to run away but he was faster.”

Dad walked in just in time to hear the last sentence.

“Don’t speak to your mother like that Jerry. Get up to your room and I’ll talk to you later.”

What’s the use? I dragged my bag upstairs and threw myself onto my bed. Things had been going so well then that shithead Billy had to come along and ruin it all. What did he have against me anyway?

-oOo-

I don’t know how much time passed with me lying on the bed nursing my misery, but eventually I felt more than heard the door open.

I lay still. If they thought I was asleep maybe they’d go away.

A weight settled on the corner of my bed. I waited a few seconds more, but there was no getting away from it. I turned and looked up at my Dad looking back down at me. He looked worried.

“Do you want to tell me about it?”

“Not much to tell. There’s this kid at school who’s had it in for me all term just ‘cos I’m new. He caught up with me as we were all leaving today and chased me. He caught me and kicked the crap out of me. End of story.”

“You must have done something to provoke him.”

“Why?” I sat up on my bed and spat the words at him. “Why must I? They don’t like me here. I talk funny and I keep to myself.

“I’ve been avoiding this kid since the beginning of term because he’s wanted to see if I might be fun to beat up. If that’s provocation then yeah I’m guilty, but I did NOTHING WRONG!”

I buried my head back into my pillow and waited. There was a deep sigh and the weight lifted from my bed.

“Clean yourself up and change out of those torn clothes. Tea’ll be ready in about ten minutes.”

The door closed quietly behind him.

-oOo-

I had my feet up on the sofa and was watching the first Fantastic Four film on TV. Tea had been toad in the hole which is one of my favourites and it felt good to be wearing jeans and a tee-shirt. I was imagining myself as Ben Grimm, yelling, ‘It’s cloberin’ time’ and throwing Billy Cooper across the playground when Mum opened the door.

She’d been in my room, changed the bed I’d so inconsiderately bled over and upended my bag in case there was a letter from the school I had neglected to pass on to her. She was holding the shield, now sporting a dent from one of Billy’s more wayward blows.

“You didn’t tell us about this.” From the expression in her voice I was all but forgiven for earlier.

I ran through a few facetious comebacks and decided that maybe it would be better if I dropped it, so instead I told her what it was for, and that I had some book tokens to spend.

Mum came into the room and put the shield on the mantelpiece.

“Your Dad was wondering if you’d like to go and spend a few weeks with your Aunt Carol. You know get away from this for a while?”

I shrugged. There was the D&D sessions I’d arranged, but they wouldn’t miss me if I didn’t turn up for the first few and I could always join in later.

“Yeah, could do I suppose.” Teenagers are genetically hardwired not to sound enthusiastic about anything their parents suggest, but I was quite keen on the idea. Aunt Carol had a small house near some remote village in Yorkshire or somewhere, and had been a good laugh on previous visits.

“I’ll give her a call shall I then?”

She was fishing for something more, something to say we’d made up. I looked up at her and smiled, “That would be great Mum, thanks.”

She smiled and left me to The Thing doing to the bad guys what I still wanted to do to Billy Cooper.

-oOo-

It took a day or so to organise things so it was on Sunday afternoon that my parents took me down to the station and waved me off. The journey was uneventful and after a change at Sheffield I found myself in one of the old style carriages with a corridor down the side and individual compartments. It seemed I had one to myself and was settling down for a good read when five minutes into the journey the door slid open and a girl about my age stuck her head into the compartment.

“Do you mind if I join you?” she asked with a smile.

I looked up. She had ash blond hair that hung down to her waist and a very slight overbite which just helped to make her that little bit more pretty. She wasn’t Alex, but it would be nice to have company, besides this was a public vehicle and I hardly had the right to say no. I smiled back at her and waved at the seat opposite.

Her smile brightened by a few watts and she stepped in. She was wearing tight black jeans and a knitted top in deference to the few heavy clouds that were threatening some good old English summer weather. She dropped a small suitcase and a larger one onto carriage floor and settled into the seat I had indicated.

After a moment or two I became aware of her looking at me. I closed my book on my finger and returned her gaze.

“Sorry, I’m being rude aren’t I?” Usually I found it difficult to talk to strangers, but there was an openness to her face that made this easy. “My name’s Jerry.”

“Shelley,” she said reaching a hand across the carriage. I changed fingers in my book and shook hands. There was something strangely electric to her touch. “How far are you going?”

“Huh?” Something about the touch had me fazed for a second.

“I said how far are you going? On the train I mean.”

“Oh, Harrogate. My Aunt’s picking me up there. I’m staying with her a few weeks. She has a house near Ferrensby.”

“Oh that’s amazing! I’ll be staying in Ferrensby too.” Her eyes sparkled with excitement. “Perhaps we can meet up, go for a walk or something.”

Suddenly she was blushing, as though she realised she’d been too forward.

“That’d be nice,” I said. “I mean it’s not as if there’s all that much to do around there.”

“Oh I don’t know,” she said turning an even deeper shade of red, “I can think of a few things that might keep us amused.”

I found a bookmark for my book and we spent the rest of the journey exchanging bios. It turned out that she lived in Orpington with parents who both commuted to London to do something important that required their presence most days. With the summer holidays here she was off for an extended visit with her grandparents, also Kentish folk, who had retired to a quiet village in Yorkshire back when the house prices up North had been low.

“It’ll be nice to have someone my own age to meet up with — that is if you don’t mind. I mean I do love my gran and grandpa, but we don’t have that much in common you know.”

I sensed something of the loneliness in her and decided that maybe we could help each other out.

I told her about my own troubles at home, about Billy and about Alex. That last bit was probably a mistake because her eyes fell when I mentioned her, but I figured it was best to be honest from the outset.

“I think I could do with something to take my mind of everything,” I said, then realising how that must have sounded tried to dig my way out of the hole. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I — I meant it would be nice to spend some time with someone new doing something totally different.”

She laughed her disarming laugh at my discomfort then smiled and put her hand on mine. “That’s OK Jerry, I know what you mean and I think we should be able to find one or two ways to keep ourselves amused.”

The sparkling electric feel was back where her hand touched mine. She withdrew before I became curious enough to ask about it and we spent the rest of the journey chatting about likes and dislikes, all the little nothings that give colour to a personality.

At Harrogate I carried the heavier of her suitcases along with mine off the platform and found both Aunt Carol and Shelley’s grandparents waiting for us. Introductions were made all round and Aunt Carol, being quite astute about such things, offered to have Shelley round to visit the next day or as soon as she felt settled.

Shelley’s grandmother smiled at her. “I don’t suppose we’ll be seeing much of you this summer then dear?”

Shelley was quick to protest, but her grandmother raised a hand to quiet her. “No dear it’s quite alright. Your grandfather and I have always felt that you were given rather short shrift in having to spend so many of your holidays away from your home and friends with to old dodderers like us, I’m glad you’ve made a friend and I will be most happy to see you two spending as much time together as you like, even if it means we only see you for breakfast and tea every day.”

Shelley took her suitcase with a promise to come see me the next day. Carol wanted to hear all about it on the drive to her small home and so I spent the next fifteen minutes going over how we’d met and what I thought of her, which was as a friend and nothing more.

Aunt Carol gave me her ‘we’ll see’ look at which I rolled my eyes; which set us both off laughing.

The evening was fairly typical for a first night at Aunt Carol’s. The smell of spag bol simmering away in a crock pot set my growling stomach to roaring, and after I dropped my bags in my room, I came back down ready to do justice to whatever mound of food was placed in front of me. Aunt Carol asked me to set the table and I followed her instructions pulling plates and cutlery from their various hiding places while she finished off cooking the pasta and pulled some garlic bread from the oven.

I just about managed a small third helping before surrendering in the face of the never ending onslaught of good food. I helped clear the table and wash the dishes, something I never volunteer to do at home, before retiring to the lounge. There we sat in companionable silence, both of us buried to the bridges of our noses in our books, as the late summer sun made its weary way towards the horizon.

“I hope you’re going to be a bit more sociable when your friend comes round,” Aunt Carol muttered as she got up to turn on the lights.

I looked up at her. “I thought you enjoyed sitting quietly with a book.”

“Oh I do, but I doubt everyone feels the same way. You may have to work on some conversational skills tomorrow.”

“I’ll burn that bridge when I come to it,” I said giving my Dad’ favourite misquote and dived back into my book.

-oOo-

Aunt Carol is an early riser. Being a teenager I, on the other hand, am not.

I woke to the sound of pots and pans banging and the smell of bacon and eggs frying. A short while later there were footsteps on the stairs and a gentle knock on the door.

“Breakfast awaits, come and enjoy it while it’s hot.”

I’d forgotten this part of the visits to my aunt, and with some ill grace I climbed out of bed and stomped down the stairs.

There was fresh coffee brewing as well but, not yet having the taste, I scrunched up my nose at the offensive odour. Aunt Carol smiled at me and poured me a glass of orange juice before carrying her vile brew away.

I tucked into the bacon and eggs with considerable relish. On my first visit to Aunt Carol’s, she’d served up breakfast with the words, “You’ll never taste an egg so good as when it’s cooked still warm from its mother’s bum.” I’d been just a tiny bit grossed out by the imagery, but found myself wholeheartedly agreeing as I cleaned the plate. I did this lot justice too and was busily mopping up the last of the yoke with a slice of fresh bread when Aunt Carol stuck her head back in to see how I was getting on.

“Shelley called. She said she’d come round about nine.”

“What!” I yelled jumping to my feet and heading for the door. “What time is it now?”

My Aunt’s quiet chuckling halted my panicky exit.

“Relax, it’s only half past seven, you’ve got plenty of time.”

I groaned. Half past seven? What kind of time was that to drag a poor unsuspecting fifteen year old out of his bed?

“Did she give any idea as to what we might do today?” I asked sitting back down and reaching for my OJ.

“Not really, but I did suggest you might want to take a picnic down to Farnham. It’s only a half hour walk and there are some lovely places to sit near the lake.”

“Are you meddling Auntie Carol?” The half-smile on my face took any sting there might have been out of the words.

Aunt Carol responded with a half-smile of her own. “Oh I wouldn’t say so, not as such. Although I do know that certain of the Newington males have needed a nudge in the right direction before now.”

I looked around for something unbreakable to throw but, finding nothing, I settled for sticking my tongue out at her.

“We’re not like that,” I said, “we’re just friends.”

“Well if you want it to stay that way make sure you tell her early on.”

I cleared the breakfast things into the sink and headed upstairs to get washed and dressed. I then made my bed before collapsing on it with a mind to recover some of the hours of sleep that had been stolen from me. My mind wouldn’t settle though and I’d given up and was reading my book again when there was a knock on the door and Aunt Carol called up to me.

-oOo-

Shelley’s smile brightened just a little bit when I opened the door. She was looking pretty stunning in a powder blue, sleeveless, cotton summer dress with a darker blue flower print that brought out the colour in her eyes. Her hair was swept back and held in place with a dark blue head band. How had I not noticed that her eyes were so blue? She held a wicker picnic basket in the crook of her arm

“Hi!” she bubbled as she walked past me into the cottage. “My gran lent me this basket for our picnic today and we baked a cake before I came. Your aunt said we could sort out the rest of the stuff we would need when I got here.

“Oh hi Mrs Newington.” she finished as Aunt Carol stuck her head out of the kitchen.

Aunt Carol is my Dad’s sister; never married and too old to want people to keep calling her miss.

Shelley headed for the kitchen with me bringing up the rear. She and Aunt Carol kept up a constant chatter while they washed and chopped some salad from my aunt’s garden and I made some sandwiches from a loaf of homemade bread and a joint of ham. By the time we had everything together it was getting on for ten o’clock.

“The road’s rather busy in places, but most of the farmers hereabouts leave a small path down the inside of their fields for pedestrians. Be safe and have fun.” Aunt Carol shooed us out and we set off down the road together, carrying the rather full picnic basket between us.

Shelley kept up a constant chatter as we walked, punctuated by the odd grunt from me as we made our way down the road. I was thinking about what Aunt Carol had said the about making my intentions clear and I wasn’t looking forward to that part of our morning together.

Eventually Shelley ran out of words and we walked in silence for a while. She glanced over at me nervously once or twice. I figured she knew what was coming too but had decided to enjoy the day first. I decided that I was going to do the same and shrugged off my mood as best I could.

“So I suppose you know these parts pretty well then?” I asked.

There was that smile again and the day was suddenly just that little bit brighter as she launched into an excited description of all the hidden places we could explore together.

She knew just the right spot near the lake; far enough from the roads that we didn’t hear much traffic, and tucked away in the trees so that we were out of the wind. We talked about books and films we’d enjoyed or hated and tucked into some great home cooked country fare. It really could have been a perfect day if it hadn’t been for those words I needed to say nagging me from the back of my mind.

After lunch we packed up the remains of our meal and I picked up the basket. She caught hold of my other arm and led me down a road that led us further away from Aunt Carol’s cottage.

“I thought we’d take the scenic route back,” she said leaning into my shoulder.

And there was that thing between us again.

We walked in silence for a while. Every now and again Shelley would point out a squirrel or a rabbit, but the words were looming like a storm cloud and would need saying sooner or later. We’d walked through the villages of Occaney and Staveley and were following a bridle path away from the roads on what I thought must be our last leg when I couldn’t put things off any longer.

“Shelley,” I started hesitantly and stopped when she clung hard to my arm.

“Not yet,” she said. “Wait till we’re over there.” She pointed at a lone tree standing on a slight rise just off the path ahead. It seemed to matter to her so I slid back into my brooding silence.

We were there all too soon and it was suddenly harder to say. I took her hands in mine and lifted her chin till she was looking into my eyes. There was a tear running down her cheek and I felt wretched.

“I’ve been honest with you haven’t I Shelley? You know about my feelings for Alex, the girl I was telling you about on the train yesterday. I haven’t led you to believe that there could be anything between us have I?”

Another tear and my gut was twisting, punish me for being so cruel.

“I just thought that since she’s all those miles away and we’re here now, at least we could have the summer together.”

“That wouldn’t be right. I’d be looking at you and thinking of her. I’m sorry. If I hadn’t met her things might be different.”

“You don’t even know how she feels about you. You said yourself she hardly notices you.”

“But I do know how I feel about her though. If I could only believe she could have feelings for me.”

…!

“I’m sorry I’m being selfish. The last thing you want to hear right now is how I feel about someone else.”

“No it’s alright. I understand.” She turned away from me and hugged herself.

We stood like that for a long time and I found tears running down my own cheeks. I hated that I was doing this, but I couldn’t pretend about my feelings.

Eventually she turned back towards me. She seemed momentarily taken aback when she saw my tears and a ghost of a smile returned to her eyes.

“I’d like to give you a gift,” she started and held up her hands when I made to protest. “It’s a bit strange and I’m not sure how or even if it will work, but I’d like to at least try.”

I must have looked confused because she tried to explain.

“You’ve talked about Alex a couple of times now. No don’t apologise; it’s OK I’m fine with it.” Her eyes betrayed the lie but I let her continue. “It’s just that I’ve noticed a couple of things about you when you talk about her.

“The first is that it’s obvious how you feel about her, and that’s fine with me,” again a lie. “I mean even if you don’t feel anything like the same way about me, I do want you to find happiness… with her.

“The main thing is the second thing. Oh damn I’m messing this up!” She took a breath and started over. “As well as seeing how much you like her, I can also see how hard it is for you to believe she could like you back. So… what I really want is for you to be able to see yourself as I see you; to notice all the great things that I’ve already seen in you.”

I was confused. She wasn’t making any sense, but this seemed to matter to her and I couldn’t bear to be any more cruel to her than I had already been. I nodded.

“This may seem a bit odd but just go with it,” she said and reached out a finger to catch a tear that just then started its path down my cheek. She touched the finger to her lips, then guiding one of my fingers, caught a tear from her own eye and carried it to my lips.

She cupped my cheek in her hand and reached up to kiss me. I let the kiss happen wondering if this was what she meant by showing me how she felt. That same odd electricity that had been there every time she touched me was back, only this time it seemed to course though my whole body. It wasn’t unpleasant, just… different.”

She pulled away from me. “We should be getting back,” she said and started off down the path ahead of me. I picked up the picnic basket and followed on behind her.

When we made it back to Aunt Carol’s house she noticed our mood and refrained from saying anything. I unpacked the basket and handed it back to Shelley. She thanked Aunt Carol and left without saying a word to me.

“I see you told her then?”

I nodded unable to meet her eyes.

“Pleased with the results?”

I dumbly shook my head.

“Well at least that’s something. Still I hope you don’t mind, but I don’t think I like you all that much right now.”

“That’s ok, I don’t like myself much right now either,” I replied and walked out into the garden.

-oOo-

The sun was going down when I heard Aunt Carol’s footstep behind me. A steaming mug was offered. I didn’t really feel much like I deserved her kindness but I accepted it with muttered thanks.

“I didn’t feel much like tea so I didn’t make any,” she told me. “I figured that you’d feel the same and it’s a shame to waste good food.”

I nodded and sipped at the steaming hot chocolate in my hands. The heat was welcome as the day’s warmth was rapidly disappearing with the sun.

“It felt like the right thing to do. I mean I have feelings for another girl back at home and it wouldn’t have been fair on any of us if I’d tried to pretend.”

“Uh huh!” It didn’t sound much like she agreed with me.

“So how come this feels so bad? It’s like I just stepped on something beautiful.”

She sipped on her own mug of chocolate and thought for a few seconds.

“Well maybe you did.”

The words were a cold shock and I directed a questioning look at my aunt.

“What do you think of Shelley?” she asked me leaning on the broken stone wall that was my current perch and gazing at the display of reds and golds on the horizon.

I thought for a moment trying to frame an answer. “She’s kind of pretty I suppose, and funny and she has an amazing smile that seems to brighten the day.”

“So what is it this girl back at home has that Shelley doesn’t?”

This time the silence lasted a lot longer.

“I don’t really know, except that when she’s around I feel so different; like ice and fire at the same time. It’s like I can’t breathe and all the rest of the world seems fade into the background.”

My Aunt snorted. “Sounds like the flu to me.”

“Well if it is, I want to stay sick for the rest of my life,” I said.

Aunt Carol lifted herself away from the wall. “Suit yourself,” she said just a bit huffily. “I think you’re an idiot and I’m saddened that someone else has to suffer for it, but in the end it’s your life.”

I didn’t have an answer for her. Everything was so confused and the ache in my heart was weighing me down so much.

“There are some sandwiches and cakes on the table if you feel hungry, otherwise lock up before you go to bed.”

She turned and walked back into the house. I sat and stared at the dregs of my hot chocolate for a few more minutes before following her. I didn’t feel much like eating so I put the food into some old biscuit tins to keep it fresh. I checked the doors were closed and locked then headed upstairs.

I lay awake for a long time that night. I’d like to say I spent the time thinking, but really I just stared at the ceiling with a blank mind and a lead weight in my chest. Eventually exhaustion took over and consciousness fled.

-oOo-

“Shelley dear, are you alright?”

“What?” I pulled the duvet cover off and looked around. There seemed to be a lot of blonde hair everywhere and things didn’t feel right.

“It’s just that you didn’t seem quite your cheerful self when you came home last night, and your grandfather and I were worried.”

I pushed the hair out of my eyes and stared up at Shelley’s gran’s worried face. What was going on here?

I tried to sit up and felt a weight on my chest. I looked down and a cascade of blonde wavy hair followed. Oh shit what was happening. I was wearing a white lacy night dress, oh-shit-oh-shit-oh-shit, what was happening to me?

“Shelley dear?”

A sudden urge took control and I pushed myself up out of bed. My balance didn’t feel quite right and I staggered more than walked out of the room. Fortunately the door to what I wanted was open and I caught a glint of porcelain. I made my way to the bathroom and closed the door behind me.

I pulled up the night dress and pulled down a pair of lacy white knickers. Oh SHIT!

The seat was already down. I scooped the nightdress out of the way and sat down just in time as a nature took its course. I folded some toilet paper and wiped the damp bits before exploring what was, and more to the point wasn’t, between my legs.

I pulled up the underwear and walked over to the sink. A very wide eyed Shelley looked back from the mirror cabinet. This could not be happening!

There was a gentle knock at the door. “Shelley, what’s the matter dear?”

Come on think quick. I doubted that ‘Actually my name is Jerry and I’ve been turned into your grand-daughter’ would go down too well.

“It’s ok Gran,” I called back in Shelley’s light soprano. “I think it must have been something I ate yesterday.”

“Do you want me to call the doctor dear?”

“No I’ll be alright.” The Last thing I wanted was a doctor poking and prodding me. “I think I’m feeling better already.”

My heartbeat wasn’t racing quite so fast now so at least that much was true. I flushed the toilet and washed my hands then looked back into the mirror. I took some deep breaths and forced myself to calm down. There had to be a rational explanation to this.

I waited until the face in the mirror looked less like a scared rabbit and more like Shelley before opening the door. Shelley’s grandparents were both standing in the corridor looking alarmed.

I smiled at both of them and put a reassuring hand on Gran’s arm. “I’m really alright Gran. Give me a few minutes to get dressed and I’ll be down ok?”

“If you’re sure dear. It’s just that we wondered if something had gone badly with that young man yesterday. He seems like such a nice boy and you seemed to like him so much.”

“I’ll explain everything when I come down,” I promised wondering how on Earth I was going to make good on that and turned towards my room. They seemed to accept my assurances and headed downstairs.

I looked round the small cluttered bedroom and tried to think what to do next. I opened the wardrobe to find an array of tops, skirts, summer dresses and trousers. I recognised the jeans and top Shelley had worn when I met her on the train and thought they might be a safe bet. Then just as I was reaching for the clothes it suddenly seemed right to pick something else. After all I didn’t want to wear the same things again so soon did I?

A small dresser revealed a trove of lacy underwear and suitably armed, I headed back for the bathroom. I pulled off the nightdress and the knickers I’d worn under it. There was a laundry hamper which, after a brief check to see what was already in there, seemed a suitable place for the used underclothes.

I ran my hands through my hair. It was a bit greasy but would probably go another day before it needed washing — odd to have such a normal thought in the middle of all this weirdness, especially since it was kind of a girly one. I wanted to look my body over, but there wasn’t a mirror large enough to let me do so. Instead I pulled my hair back and out of the way and stepped into the shower.

Everything seemed so much more sensitive and the shower became as much an erotic experience as an exercise in personal hygiene. Part of me wanted to take this opportunity to do some exploring, but the better part of me won out. This wasn’t my body and I damn well wasn’t going to abuse it.

It took me a few minutes to work out the infernal workings of the bra, but eventually I had it on and everything secure in its embrace. The rest went on reasonably easily although I did have some doubts about whether I’d actually be able to squeeze into the jeans. In the end though, the beltline pulled up over my hips and the button and zip closed easily enough.

The top I’d chosen was a gypsy blouse with blue embroidery over the bust. It just about reached the beltline of the jeans and offered only the vaguest hint of bare midriff in between. I picked up my nightdress and headed back to my room. After pulling my bed straight I sat down in front of the mirror and spent fifteen frustrating minutes tugging knots free from my hair until it was presentable, then finishing off by pushing a blue plastic headband into place to keep the long hair behind my ears and falling down my back.

I wondered if I should have a go at some makeup, but decided against it. Time to face the music I thought. A glance at the bedside clock told me it was just gone half past seven. I wondered if Shelley would be such a morning person in my body, assuming of course that that’s where she was.

I checked myself one more time in the mirror, realising again that I was actually acting and thinking a lot like a girl, and headed downstairs. I wasn’t sure exactly how I was going to handle this, but my limited experience with lying told me that the closer I could keep it to the truth, the less the likelihood of being found out.

-oOo-

There was cereal and toast on the table, nothing quite so sumptuous as Aunt Carol usually supplied, but this wasn’t a growing boy I was feeding here. I poured out a meagre helping of something that I was sure would taste of cardboard and poured some milk over it. Gran offered me a bowl of raspberries and I gratefully spooned a few into the bowl.

I tucked in and was instantly surprised at how different the fruit tasted through someone else’s taste buds. I had never cared much for raspberries before as they were too tart for my pallet, but suddenly there was a whole world of flavour chasing around in my mouth. They were still bitter, but somehow that made them all the more enjoyable.

“I do wish you’d wear a dress dear,” Gran offered me a gentle frown. “You’re so beautiful, and I hate to see you parading about in…”

She waved at my jeans instead of finishing her sentence.

I wasn’t sure I was ready for skirts just yet, but I had to respond.

I finished my mouthful. “If you really don’t like it I could go and change.”

“No it’s alright dear. It’s just that I’m getting old and it’s just hard to adjust to some changes.”

“You don’t know the half of it!” I thought, then she put a glass of orange juice in front of me and I almost burst into tears as I realised this was the first familiar thing that had to me happened so far today.

I raised another small mouthful of cereal to my mouth and contemplated what I was going to say to these people. I also started trying to figure out exactly what had happened and from there what I could do to change it back.

There was a knock on the door and Grandpa went to open it.

“Hello Mr Hamilton.” I almost choked as I recognised the voice. “I was wondering if Shelley was in and if I might see her. I think I may have said something to upset her yesterday and I want to put it right.”

I had just about recovered from the shock of hearing my voice, Jerry’s voice, from the other side of the door. Grandpa had turned and was looking at me as if to ask the question. I dabbed my mouth with a napkin and nodded and beckoned for him to let me — I mean Jerry — or did I mean Shelley? — into the house.

Grandpa showed him/me into the kitchen and Gran offered him a glass of OJ which he gratefully accepted. Grandpa wanted to stay, but Gran ushered him out of the room.

Shelley came over to me as soon as the door was closed.

“Are you alright?” She looked into my eyes with genuine concern. My face was only a few inches from me and oddly I felt my breath catch in my throat.

I shook myself out of the momentary spell. “Apart from being turned into you you mean? Yes I’m just great! How are you getting on?”

“Well it was a bit of a shock I must say, I really didn’t expect this. Do you always eat all that for breakfast?”

“When I’m staying with Aunt Carol, yes. She says it’s the most important meal of the day. What do you mean you didn’t expect THIS. What did you expect and just what did happen?”

“Well... I’m not really supposed to talk about it…” Suddenly she was staring at my/her/his — oh hell this is confusing — fingernails.

“Kinda shoulda thoughta that before all this happened. It’s a bit late now.”

“It’s the spell,” she said sheepishly. “I didn’t really have any idea how I was going to get you to see yourself through my eyes, so I guess it made up its own mind.”

“A spell?” Such things didn’t exist in my world, especially not… “A spell that made up its own mind?”

Shelley sat upright and raised her — my? — chin in a rather girly pose. “OK, you explain what happened!”

I flustered about a bit.

“Magic is real Jerry. There isn’t so much about these days, but a few hundred years ago it was a pretty powerful force.”

“And you know all this because?”

“Because one of my ancestors was one of the most powerful witches in Kent in her day.”

I could not find the words to respond and just stared at her with my mouth hanging open.

She sighed and pushed my jaw back up with a finger. “No I didn’t believe it either when my mum first told me. OK here’s the short version; you deserve that much at least.

“My several times great grandmother was a witch at the head of one of the most powerful covens in Kent a few centuries back. You don’t get to hold a position like that for very long without making enemies and one day another witch put a curse on her and all her issue — that means her kids…”

“I know what it means go on.”

“The details of the curse are kind of vague, but suffice to say that my ancestor was able to come up with a way to counter it in the form of a charm. This charm has been passed from mother to daughter ever since on the daughter’s fifteenth birthday.

“My Mum gave it to me a couple of months ago. When she did she told me that it was mainly for my protection but that it could also perform other magic sometimes. You don’t even need to be a witch or anything, just that sometimes when you really want to do something for the right reason, the charm kind of calls to you to let you know that it can help.”

“So this charm is like a pendant or a broach or something? Do I have it now?”

“No it’s not like that, it kind of stays with me.” She held out her/my right hand and opened it. After a moment’s concentration a pattern glowed briefly on the palm.

“Huh, cool.” I couldn’t help admiring it despite all the weirdness of the morning. “Does that mean that your gran…?” I nodded my head towards the front room.”

“Oh no, that’s my Dad’s mother. She doesn’t know anything about all this, and I’d like to keep things that way if it’s all the same.”

“Don’t worry; I’m not in a hurry to have a room with padded wallpaper.”

Shelley gave me an odd look so I mimed wearing a straitjacket and inadvertently squashed my breasts together in an uncomfortable way. It must have looked quite interesting from her point of view as well because her eyes jumped out on stalks and she went bright red as something uncontrollable started happening under the table.

“Wow, that’s different,” she said smiling despite herself, and my heart skipped a beat as I found myself noticing just how attractive I looked when I did that.

I looked away quickly and an uncomfortable moment passed before I asked, “So how do we undo this?”

“I don’t think it’s that simple.” I looked over at her and she wouldn’t meet my eyes. “I think that the spell has to run its course — achieve its end — before we revert.”

“So you mean I’m stuck like this?” Oh no, this would not do!

“We both are I’m afraid, until you can look at me in this body and feel the things that I’ve been feeling these past couple of days.”

“And how long is that going to take?” I could feel the anger rising inside me.

“I don’t know.” She looked up into my eyes and quickly turned away. “It kind of depends on how you feel about me. It could be a couple of days, a couple of weeks… I don’t know.”

“Well right now when I look at that body, all I see is the person who hijacked it, and I don’t feel particularly good about it.”

She looked down obviously upset, and I was shocked at how much like Shelley she looked at that moment.

“I’m sorry I wanted this to be something good for you. I wanted you to know how wonderful a girl can feel when you’re in her life, so that maybe you could believe that Alex might feel the same way. I never meant for something as weird as this to happen, or for you to be upset and angry.”

The thing is I was upset and angry. I had been changed into girl against my will and there was no easy or immediate way out of it.

“What did you tell Aunt Carol?”

“I said I was going to try and mend some fences. I guess they’re a bit more broken than I expected.”

We sat in silence for a while longer, me fuming and her (or was it him) trying not to cry.

“You’d better go,” I said at last. “I need some time to think.”

He nodded and stood up. I did the same and walked him to the door.

“We can’t leave things like this Shelley,” he said aware of two pairs of ears in the lounge nearby.

“Well I’m afraid we’ll have to for now. I’ll call you when I’m ready to talk.”

I closed the door on him and turned to face two anxious grandparents.

An easy out presented itself. I burst into tears and ran upstairs. At least it would give me some time to think.

-oOo-