CHAPTER 13
What can I say about that year? It was truly a rebirth, as Sophie emerged into the world almost as the Venus of Botticelli. I simply wore more clothing than the goddess in the painting.

My breasts grew. Very slowly, and with some discomfort, they took a shape within my blouses that pleased me, but they were still of the size of a younger girl. Unfortunately, the rest of me grew a little too. I was taller, and to my disgust and the amusement of a small friend my feet enlarged a little. My first good shoes, the heeled ones, they became too small and I had to give them away.

Françoise helped with the first problem. I had been given the shapes by Rollo, but as I grew real breasts beneath them they slowly became uncomfortable, too big to share the space in my brassiere with my growing flesh. She came to the house one day, and asked to sit with me in my bedroom.

“Please, Sophie. I am but another woman, and a mother to a daughter. This is...this is what we do. Please, may I see?”

I disrobed, and she inspected my chest closely. “Aha, these are very young, very new, but we can work, yes? The girls, when I danced, they were not all…”

She paused for a moment, clearly trying to find a word. “They were not all revealed to the world, yes, some were for the background, but they too must look endowed with charms for the customers, for the audience, the men. And so…may I have your undergarment? Now…”

She discarded the imitation breasts that had filled my support, and from her bag produced two things that looked like nothing so much as two pieces of rabbit meat, or perhaps the breasts of a chicken.

“Put on your garment, little one. Now, let me help you”

It was remarkable. She manipulated my growing breasts and the odd pieces of white meat until the bottoms of my brassiere’s cups were filled with the artificial items, and the tops with myself. As the new things pushed up, my own flesh swelled above the material, and I realised that dressed that way I could now wear upper clothing that…I blushed, and she smiled.

“Now the boys will see that you are a girl, yes?”

That broke the mood. I thought of that moment, in the garden, when I had looked at Rollo and seen no longer just a brother, but a man, and a man who was handsome and charming. I realised once more that there could never be such a man for me. The medication was helping me, but I had simply moved too far into the masculinity of my birth and of my brother.

Still, I looked down at the swell that Françoise had conjured from my flesh, and smiled. I had a dress that would be brightened by her magic.

Christmas and St Sylvestre were other moments of joy, bright jewels to hang alongside the small tree that Rollo insisted we bring into the sitting room for the season. St Nicolas had had his feast day, and so we gradually applied other, material jewels to our little pine. Roland was full of smiles.

“This will be your first Christmas, my sweet. It must be perfect, no? And then we have the new year. What may that bring, hey? If we can equal this year that passes, then we shall be fortunate indeed”

School had finished, and it was quite emotional, even Fatima making sure each of us had received a card, and the last day had brought embraces and tears, and promises to visit. Margot touched my heart at that point, handing me two cards, one for “Sophie and her family”, the other, sealed, “To Roland”. I found it hard to speak at that point, just seeing my name on the paper, at that time. I had been before Mme Chinon once more just the day before, and I really felt the old dragon had thawed in my presence. She had talked to me about my life, my school, my friends.

“This Margot, you say she is fascinated with your brother?”

“I do believe she may be in love with him, Madame”

“He is a handsome boy?”

“He is fully a man, Madame, and yes, he is handsome”

She made a note at that point, nodding as she did so.

“Boys, young lady. What are they to you?”

Some devil took my tongue just then. “I prefer men, Madame”

That was when she laughed out loud, and I wondered what she had heard in my words.

“Ah, Sophie, I had already decided what it is that you are, months ago, but forgive an old woman her small pleasures in discovering that she can still be right. That was the response of a true adolescent, a girl arriving in her womanhood. The boy with the Gauloise, the motor scooter, he is no longer of interest as you put away the things of childhood, no?”

I thought for a little while. “That boy, Madame, that boy with the Gauloise and the motor scooter, I have known him and felt his fists and feet on my body. I could not, I would not see him as being in any way a thing to desire. A man, though, is different. A man who knows what being a man should be, who can offer grace and gentleness and yet remain…remain everything I was never born to be. That is my desire, Madame”

Truly, just then, she thawed, her ice broke apart and floated away.

“Child, there is no doubt in me as to who you are. What you were born, tough luck. That we cannot address. The person you are, yes, she can be assisted. I will ask you a question now, and it is one that you should think about, but I will understand if you answer immediately. If all goes as best as it may, would you wish for surgeons to rearrange those areas of your body?”

The answer was there immediately, as she had known it would be.

“Yes, I would, and tomorrow if it were available!”

“Well, it is not. Listen well, child. I have made my diagnosis, hence your medication, but you must stay the course. There is no return from surgery, and if at some future time you decide that Serge must return, then it would be very difficult”

“But I am sure!”

Another smile, warm on her face. “Yes, child, we both know this, but the law does not, and so we must please the law before we please ourselves, no? Thank you, Sophie, for helping an old woman remember her youth”

I rose to go as she finished, and she took my hand. “And, child, please give my regards to your mother. I see clearly her love for you, and that is as it should be”

I left her rooms as happy as I could be. A wait, a birthday, and then release. Suddenly, my remark to Rollo about not-gay merguez came to mind, and I looked down to where my own little lamb sausage rested.

“Merguez, and two eggs. What a meal you shall make for me!”

The Eve of Christmas came, and for once we decided to attend the Mass, which led to a difference of opinions in our household. Maman wanted to spare our appetites for a true Christmas meal, for which she had gathered a number of rare delights including foie gras. Rollo wanted to do things as the tradition had it and gorge himself on food immediately after the Vigil.

“And who shall cook this feast, my boy? And who shall then clear it, and prepare the table once more, and cook all day after no sleep, and then serve, and clean yet again? Hmmm?”

That was the trump played to win the trick: if he wished to be a pig in the night, then he must prepare it himself, and Rollo and the kitchen had yet to be introduced in any way that was constructive.

And so, I placed my old, very special but too small heeled shoes before the fireplace, and in my neatest skirt and crispest blouse I joined my family in the car for our journey to the church. Rollo had dressed in his best uniform, cap in hand as we entered, and Maman was simple elegance in a grey dress that let me realise that the doctor did indeed have an eye for attractive ladies. I had a small beret for propriety, and Maman something a little wider and prettier.

Elle and her family were waiting outside, it seemed for us, and next to them were Margot and a tall man with red hair and a tired face. I went up to him and offered my hand.

“Monsieur Boucher, I am enchanted to meet you”

He smiled, and gave me the bisous. “On the contrary, my little one, I am pleased to meet Margot’s new friend who has made her smile, and...ah, would that be the brother? I see!”

He chuckled, but there was something behind it that spoke of pain. “My child, Margot has spoken of our loss, no?”

No, she had not. It had been Elle. “I know of the…horrible thing, M Boucher”

“Then you will know that I care for my daughter, yes? And, well, if she has to set her eyes towards a young man, then perhaps it is best that it be one who can care for her in more than the ways of the heart, no?”

Margot slapped her father’s arm. “Rollo will hear, Papa”

“Let him! If he brings smiles to my daughter’s face, along with his pretty sister, then he should know. Come, we must serve our penance before we serve our stomachs”

There was a short game of tactical positioning, but at last we ended up in our seats, and the order was Roland, Margot, her father, Maman, myself, Elle, Françoise and Emil. Prayers were spoken, hymns sung, words that may have been wise offered to us by the priest and we were finally enjoined to go in peace. There was quite a lot of conversation either side of me, spoken under the breath, and when we emerged I sensed some odd conspiracy evolving before my eyes but, and a way that paid no respect to my body, behind my back. Elle was bouncing, as was usual.

“Are you having the Wake-up? We are!”

“No, Maman has ruled with the iron rod she keeps in the kitchen. A family Christmas dinner tomorrow, and appetites must be left to prepare. See you in a couple of days? You must come, and see whatever the Father Christmas has brought for me”

“Two days, then! Bye!”

They were off, and Maman was still talking to Margot’s father while the girl stood very close to Rollo.

“The little dynamo has gone?”

“Yes, Maman. She will visit in two days, if that is all right”

She smiled. “How could such a thing not be? Now, we have a change in plans. As you are aware, there have been sad events in Margot’s family, and, well, I have been thinking, and talking with M Boucher, Guillaume, here. They have not the time or the skill for a true Christmas meal, of the sort that should be eaten on that day. I…”

She was blushing slightly. “I have more than enough for two extra places at table, and so I have asked for their kindness in sharing our little feast. Would that be acceptable, my sweet one?”

I hugged her tight, and whispered in her ear as I did so.

“Of course it would, dear Maman. And it would give Margot a chance to talk to our boy without Elle to make fun”

She kissed my cheek, and whispered back.

“Exactly!”