Those last two weeks of August before we left for Thailand were a busy time for all of us. Both Julie and I continued to work part-time and Joe had a full-time Job. By an awkward co-incidence, he had arranged to go away with some friends for the fortnight which began on 4th September, the day we were due to return from Thailand. He and I would therefore have only one more week together after his return, during which we would both be preparing to go to our respective Universities. I think we both realised that the next fortnight would be our final time together, and that we should make the most of it. No doubt we would promise one another to stay in touch, and would also probably arrange to come back to visit our respective parents at the same time so we could meet up, but I think we also both aware that such a long distance relationship was never going to work, and before Christmas we’d both have forged new lives.

Joe didn’t forget his promise to Julie, however. We were both invited to have dinner with his parents and his sister. (I only agreed to go as he’d assured me that his parents knew perfectly well that I was not a potential daughter-in-law.) After the meal Julie disappeared with Clare up to her bedroom and that was the last we saw of them for the rest of the evening. The following evening Joe brought his sister over to Woodley with him when he came. After that Julie spent much of her free time in the company of Clare and her school friends, and seemed to be a lot happier to be experiencing life as an ordinary fifteen year old girl. She assured me that neither Clare nor any of her friends acted as if they suspected anything unusual about her, and she seemed to be losing those last lingering traces of boyishness that we’d pointed out to her.

Julie now had more free time when she was not helping at the salon as she’d finished all the paperwork relating to her mother’s probate before we left for Nottingham, so I signed and sent off the various forms as soon as we returned. It was now just a question of our waiting for a response from the authorities, which we expected to receive at roughly the same time that we were due back from holiday. I included a letter with our application stating our intention of moving to Nottinghamshire in late September and asking, if possible, to have a Probate interview before I left. There were a few other bureaucratic things to be done, however, notably a letter to her school from me, explaining that ‘Julian’ would not be returning next term but would be joining me in Nottingham where ‘he’ would resume his education.

Julie, Sue and I did have one opportunity to go shopping together in Reading though, to get ourselves some clothes for our holiday. Julie had inherited quite a few nice things from her mother including some rather stylish sun glasses, but she was increasingly beginning to get the feel of what clothes were right for her to wear and wanted to buy some new things of her own. She also used the opportunity to try on a number of different outfits and ask us what we thought. In the end we bought a couple of sun dresses each, and Julie and I jointly invested in some sun block and insect repellent.

‘You’ll soon have to decide what you’re going to wear for the journey as you’re going to have to travel dressed as a guy,’ I said as we were queuing to pay for them.

Julie sighed and looked as if I was reminding her of something she’d far rather forget, and it was a few seconds before she answered.

‘Mum had some jeans, a denim shirt and some trainers that will fit me. They all look fairly androgynous;’ I thought I might wear those.’

‘Couldn’t you wear some of Julian’s clothes that have been sitting untouched in your old wardrobe?’ I asked.

‘I could, but I don’t really want to if I can avoid it. I feel that Julian is now in the past and don’t really wish to be reminded of that time.’

‘You can’t really avoid doing so, remember that your ticket and passport show a young man named Julian, and so you will need to make some effort to look like him,’ I commented.

‘I know, and I suppose I’ll have to lose my extensions as well,’ she answered sadly. ‘But it will only be as I pass through the passport control. I intend to spend the rest of my time there as Julie, so I’ll have to take Mum’s wig with me as well.’

‘I’ve been thinking about that, and was also talking to one of my clients, who has recently come back from a holiday in Thailand,’ said Susie. ‘It would be a shame to lose your nice hair and finger nails and I think we ought to be able to get you there dressed as Julie, at least. It may be a little more complicated to get you back into the UK as her though.’

‘That would be something,’ said Julie, suddenly cheering up. ‘I really want to look my best when I go for my appointment at the clinic.’

‘You’d better explain what is on your mind,’ I said cautiously.

‘I think you should dress androgynously without jewelry or makeup, just in case anyone decides to looks carefully, and in any event it will be more practical. But I don’t see why we can’t just tie your hair back in a ponytail. The only times your passport will be examined on the way out is when you check in and when you pass through the Passport Control at Bangkok. These days we can all check in online and print off our boarding passes. Once we’ve done so you can disappear to ‘the Ladies’ whilst Susie and I drop off our luggage, taking Julian’s passport with us. The airline staff are only concerned that the name on the boarding card and that on the passport are the same, at that stage.’

‘But won’t we also have to go through Security at Heathrow as well?’ I asked.

‘Yes, but they do not check passports at that stage. As long as we are sure that she is not carrying any forbidden or metallic items, Julie should be able to pass through the scanner without being stopped or searched individually.’

‘Alright, but what about when we get to Bangkok?’ asked Julie.

‘I’m told that the immigration officers there are only interested in two things: that you have a passport which is valid for the duration of your stay and that you have a return plane ticket. More often than not they do not even glance at the photograph. If they do look carefully then all they would see would be a rather effeminate young man, which is no big deal in Thailand. The authorities in there are much more used to dealing with young ‘katoey’ or ‘ladyboys’ than they are in this country.’

‘Well that would be far preferable to having to arrive at the hotel looking like a boy,’ she said with some distaste, but what is different about the return journey?’

‘The main difficulty on the return journey will be at the Immigration Control at Heathrow. The officers are required to compare the face in front of them with that on the passport and they are bound to notice. But you are not pretending to be someone else, or trying to gain illegal entry to the country. You’d just be a young boy who’d decided to let his hair and nails grow like a girl — so what? The worst they could do is to ask you a few more questions.’

‘What do you think Jen?’ asked Julie.

‘I suppose we could give it a try on the outward journey, and then decide what you do on the return on the basis of how you get on.’

Julie gave us both another of her lovely smiles, that any other time would have brightened up the day and warmed our hearts, but by this time we’d left the shop and were sweltering in the midday sunshine of a mini August heat wave.

---

Dad rang me at the weekend and offered to drive us to the airport the following week. That was really sweet of him as he normally worked on Saturdays, and so would have had to alter his work routine to do so. Any other time I’d have been happy to accept his offer, but I’d already agreed with Julie that she could travel en femme or at least en androgynie (if there is such a phrase), and so I preferred to avoid awkward explanations at this stage. There would be plenty of time for those later on, by which time Julie would at least be sixteen and could, theoretically at least, live as she wished.

‘Thanks Dad, but there’ll be three of us and all our luggage, so that will be a bit too much for your car.’

‘It’ll probably be ok, if you don’t mind squashing up together,’ he continued.

‘No, honestly, Julie only lives a quarter of a mile from Earley station and …’

‘Julie?’ he interrupted in a puzzled voice.

‘Sorry! It’s just my pet name for my little half-brother. ‘

‘I know he’s not very well developed for his age, but you shouldn’t take the Mickey out of him,’ said Dad.

‘I don’t as a rule — at least not to his face.’

‘Hmm’, said Dad with a note of disapproval.

‘From Earley we can get a train to Feltham, picking up Susie at Bracknell along the way,’ I replied, quickly reverting back to my previous subject. ‘There’s a frequent bus service from Feltham station to all the Heathrow Terminals. It’s one of the few recompenses for having to live where we do, that you can get to Heathrow relatively easily and cheaply’.

‘Alright then, if you’re sure you don’t need me.’

‘But thanks for the offer, and thanks also for sticking up for me in front of Mum last week.’

‘That’s what Dads are for,’ he replied. ‘But don’t be too hard on your Mum: she may be sharp-tongued and a little rigid in her views but she usually comes round in the end, and underneath she does care about you.’

‘I realise that,’ I replied.

I just hope that I don’t end up like her,’ I thought as I cancelled the call.

---

I was just beginning to think about what clothes I was going to take with me on holiday, when Julie and Clare came to my room, with an entreating look on their faces that immediately put me on my guard.

‘Our friend Rachel is going to a disco organised by her local youth club in Caversham on Friday, we would like to go as well if possible,’ said Julie.

(Caversham is another suburb to Reading, just to the north of the River Thames.)

‘It’ll be for Clare’s parents to decide whether she can go or not, but Julie you’ll have to pack as we leave for the airport early the next morning.’

‘I can do my packing tomorrow. Clare’s parents have given her permission to go, but are unable to give her a lift there so we were hoping that you and Joe might be able to give us a lift instead.’

The plan did have its attractions for me. I would welcome the opportunity to have a long goodbye with Joe on Friday evening.

‘How will you get home afterwards?’ I asked.

‘It’s ok, Rachel’s dad has promised to drive us all home afterwards.’

‘Will there be any boys there?’

‘Well it isn’t being organised by a Nunnery!’ she replied petulantly.

I was about to tell her off for being cheeky, when I remembered several similar conversations I’d had with my Mum a few years ago, and also what I’d thought after my conversation with Dad the previous weekend.’

‘Alright then, but take you mobile phone in case Rachel’s Dad doesn’t turn up and please take care. Remember you’re still only fifteen, and we will be leaving for holiday the following morning.’

I should have liked to add that it would be a disaster for her secret to be discovered at this late stage, but couldn’t do so as she was in company with Clare at the time.

‘Don’t worry, I’ll be careful,’ she said, turning to Clare and rolling her eyes significantly before they both disappeared back to her bedroom.

I did my best not to smile at how quickly she’d acquired the mannerisms of a ‘young madam’, as my mother used to describe it. Although she was very much enjoying her life as a teenage girl, I think that deep down Julie was still quite sensible and aware of the potential difficulties of her present situation and just how much she could risk things.

In the event there were no problems with the scheme. Both Julie and I did our packing on Thursday as arranged. Joe and I delivered Julie and Clare to her disco, and her friend’s father took them back to their respective homes at the agreed time. In the meanwhile Joe and I had a very good evening together - but that’s another story.

---

At eight o’clock on Saturday morning Julie and I were on the point of leaving the house with our luggage to walk to the local station. We were both dressed in jeans, t-shirts and trainers, completely devoid of any jewelry or makeup. Julie had also lost her boobs, which were now in her cabin bag awaiting the earliest possible opportunity for her to put them back in place. She had her hair pulled back into a simple pony tail, but she still looked much more like a girl than a boy.

‘I hate having to dress like this,’ she said with some feeling.

‘You wouldn’t want to be wearing tights and high heels after you’d been travelling on a plane for eleven and a half hours.’

‘I suppose not,’ she replied reluctantly, ‘but I still object to having to look like a guy. As soon as I get home I’m going to burn all Julian’s hateful clothes,’ she said.

‘But you’re not wearing any of Julian’s clothes.’

‘No but I still object to having to dress like this.’

‘Believe me Julie, nobody looking at you now would think that of you as anything other than a girl, I just hope that the authorities let you in the country looking as you do.’

‘So do I.’

‘Now have you got your passport, air ticket, money,’ I said echoing my mother as we used to leave for our holiday.’

My sister confirmed that she had each of these items, and I double checked that I did as well, and we set off. We each had one cabin bag, plus one shared suitcase on wheels which we took turns to push. Fortunately there were no neighbours around as we were leaving the house.

Susie and her mother were waiting for our train on the platform at Bracknell. She joined us in our compartment and her mother waved us off. Just over an hour and a half later we were in the Departures Hall of Terminal 3 at Heathrow in possession of our boarding cards. Susie was right, the Thai Airlines check-in clerk was only really concerned that the passports corresponded with the boarding cards, and that we had not exceeded the baggage allowance.

‘Does the young man travelling with you have any check-in luggage?’ she asked.

‘No, he’s sharing a case with me. He’ll only be taking this cabin-bag,’ I said, pointing to one that was well within the specified size.

That was it. She confirmed the boarding details, and we re-joined Julie who had been waiting for us out of sight. We were now free to proceed to Security. Before doing so, we double checked with one another that nobody was carrying anything forbidden or likely to set off a metal detector, and then passed through without a hitch. There was however one unforeseen problem immediately before boarding, when they did a second check of boarding cards and passports. The assistant concerned did a slight double-take when he saw Julie’s passport, but didn’t say anything and we were allowed to proceed without further ado.

I’m still a relative newcomer to air travel and so found the flight to be quite exciting, especially as I had the window seat. Susie and Julie on the other hand were far more seasoned travellers and so professed themselves to be bored and spent their time watching girly films or else reading the in-flight shopping magazine.

It was 6 o’clock in the morning when we landed at the Suvarnabhumi International Airport, about 16 miles from Bangkok, and within half an hour we were queuing at Immigration Control. Once again Susie was right, the Immigration Officer didn’t even look at our faces, merely checked our passports and entered our details on to a database. Soon afterwards we had retrieved our cases and passed through customs.

‘Well that was an anti-climax,’ commented Susie, as we were making our way through the Arrivals Hall to the new Airport Rail Link.

‘Thanks heavens it’s over,’ said Julie. ‘Now if you don’t mind I’d like go to the ladies to put my boobs back in and also do something with my hair.’

‘I think we could probably all do with a ‘freshen up’,’ said Susie.

---

Twenty minutes later Julie had fixed her boobs, changed into a dress which she retrieved from our suitcase, brushed her hair and put on some makeup and earrings and was beginning to look like her normal self. Susie and I drew the line at letting her put on some nail varnish however.

‘At last, I feel like a real person again,’ she announced.