In ancient times, when the box owned by the beautiful Pandora, the first mortal woman, was opened all the troubles of the world flew out and could never be put back. So what will happen when a trunk with the name 'Pandora Wilkins' is discovered in a house in North London in 2009? Pandora’s Trunk Chapter 19 by Louise Anne Smithson Copyright © 2013 Louise Anne Smithson All Rights Reserved.

As soon as we arrived at Brome on Wednesday evening we had a quick cup of tea with Mum, who had just returned from work. She then offered to start cooking us some dinner, but Carol suggested that she might drive over to Diss to buy a takeaway meal. Mum accepted the offer and during the forty-five minutes or so that my sister was gone she suggested to me that I should take my cases up to my former bedroom, offering to carry one for me. She seemed to welcome the opportunity for a chat.

‘You’ll find that I’ve made a few changes to your bedroom over the last four weeks, Becky: nothing too drastic, but just enough to make you feel a little more comfortable.’

It was clear that she’d removed Nick’s few remaining clothes from my wardrobes and also some of the more obviously ‘male’ features and furnishings from the room, replacing them with more feminine touches. Most of these were items that she already owned but had not used. Thus there was now a large illuminated mirror for me to put on my makeup, a grooming set with both hair and clothes brushes and also a manicure set on the dressing table. She’d gone to the trouble of changing the colour scheme of the bedding to a pastel green and included a vase of flowers to brighten up the room. She’d even thought to provide me with, a large box of tissues and another of cotton buds.

‘Thanks Mum, that was very thoughtful of you,’ I said giving her a kiss, and putting down my case.

I wondered, but didn’t like to ask, whether the former contents of the room had been disposed of altogether, or merely put in to storage somewhere.

‘I’ve been doing a lot of background reading over the last few weeks to try and learn more about transgenderism and understand what you’ve been going through, and indeed what will happen if you transition.’

‘Not if, Mum, I’ve already begun, at least in my mind.’

‘Alright then — as you transition,’ she continued. ‘I’ve also discussed the matter with your aunt and several of my friends. It has not been an easy time for me, and has involved me re-visiting some painful memories, but I can now see that your childhood must also have been difficult for you.’

‘I’ve always known that you loved me, Mum.’

‘I know that, but love on its own isn’t enough. I should have made more of an effort to understand and empathize with you.’

‘And I should have made more effort to enable you to do so but I was always so afraid of being honest with you.’

‘You were just a child and I was the adult: I should never have let you feel frightened to be honest with me,’ she said sorrowfully. ‘But I promise that in future I’ll do my best to accept you in your new chosen identity.’

‘That is all I’d ask of you Mum.’

We hugged one another and stayed silent for a while, each with our own memories of the past and thoughts about the future. At last I changed the subject, raising another issue that was on my mind.

‘How would you feel if Carol and I took over responsibility for the Christmas meal?’

‘But your Aunt and her family will be coming. I know that you can cook, but I’m not sure that I’d trust your sister in my kitchen.’

‘One thing that I’ve discovered recently, Mum, is that perhaps Carol would have preferred to have been treated less like a child prodigy and more like an ordinary little girl.’

‘That is what her father used to say, but I suppose I was too anxious for her to make the most out of her intellectual abilities and to have the educational opportunities that I never had.’

‘Carol has undoubtedly succeeded in doing that, but she may also have lost out on some of life’s ordinary pleasures along the way.’

‘Do you think so?’

I nodded.

‘So why not leave all the Christmas cooking to your two daughters. I’ll make sure that there are no disasters.’

She sighed and looked sad.

‘Alright then.’

I discovered one other thing later that evening when I had cause to collect something from Mum’s bedroom. She always used to keep framed photographs of her children on her dressing table, but had replaced them with a framed photograph of both Carol and myself wearing our posh dresses, which we’d sent to her in November.

On Christmas Eve Carol and I had a lot of fun together making and decorating a chocolate sponge ‘Yule Log’, and then icing and decorating the Christmas cake that Mum had already made. In fact Carol discovered that she had quite a flair for cake decoration and promised herself to do some more at home in the New Year. We then trimmed the Christmas tree together whilst Mum went out to do some last minute shopping. As I’d expected to be working in the kitchen for much of the day, I’d chosen to dress myself quite plainly and with a minimum of makeup and jewelry. In fact, for the first time in nearly three months I actually chose to wear a pair of jeans, albeit ones designed for a woman. Carol, on the other hand, had put on a denim skirt. I looked both clean and tidy but Mum seemed a little disappointed that I’d not bothered to change when she came back.

‘I trust you two will smarten yourself up when our visitors arrive tomorrow. I’ve been telling your Aunt Jill how nicely you both dress.’

‘You can’t expect us to wear dresses all the time, Mum,’ said Carol, coming to my defence.

‘Don’t worry, I may begin by wearing jeans tomorrow morning but I promise to put on a dress and some makeup before the guests arrive,’ I said, comparing her comments with what she’d said to me on the first occasion she saw me as Becky.

‘Good, but I was also wondering whether the three of us might go to the Carol Service at St Mary’s tonight.’

‘But Mum, you don’t usually go to church at Christmas,’ commented Carol.

‘I know, but I just thought that on this occasion it might be nice for the three of us to go out together.’

Carol was right, but it occurred to me that this might be Mum’s opportunity to ‘show off’ her new daughter to the village, as I was sure that by now most of her neighbours would have heard about my transition.

‘Alright, but I’m going to need an hour or so to sort out my hair and get myself ready,’ I said.

‘Off you go then, Becky, your sister and I can prepare the tea tonight. It will give me a chance to have a chat with her.’

The idea of my appearing in public dressed as a girl in front of so many people that had previously known me as Nick, had been the subject of both one of my regular daydreams and also of my nightmares as a little boy. I thought of this as I put on my dark red dress and shoes once again with some matching lipstick. The dress had a fairly low neck and so I created the appearance of a convincing cleavage by using duct tape to hold my breasts together and then padding them underneath. As I got myself ready I wished that I had ‘Pandora’s trunk’ to hand to give me the confidence that I needed, but realised that I was going to have to go through this evening without the benefit of any such props. I told myself that I would at least have my sister and my mother to accompany me this time.

As things turned out, the carol service itself proved to be nowhere near as stressful as I’d assumed it would be. There were undoubtedly a few quizzical glances and one or two knowing ones from nearby members of the congregation as we walked in and took our pews towards the rear of the church, but there was no discernible sign of hostility or derision. In no time we were happily singing along with everyone else. On the other hand, the period immediately after the service was a little more awkward for me. The congregation had been invited to eat mince pies and have mulled wine or fruit juice. In no time both my sister and my mother were busy chatting to people that they knew. I continued to be aware of subtle glances rowards me and also one or two awkward and slightly embarrassed nods from those who’d previously known me as a boy; they clearly didn’t know what to say to me. I was just beginning to feel uncomfortable when I was approached by Emily, the seventeen year old daughter of one of our neighbours and the sister of one of my school friends.

‘Hi, I understand we are to call you Becky from now on.’

‘That’s right. It’s nice to see you again, Emily,’ I replied, relieved that at last someone seemed willing to talk to me.

‘I must say you look really great in that dress’

‘Thank you very much. You’ve grown up a lot yourself since I last saw you.’

‘Thanks, I shall be telling my brother that he missed a real treat by not being here to meet you tonight.’

‘Does Will know all about me then?’

‘Becky, everybody knows about you; you’re quite the village celebrity at the moment. I suspect that half of the congregation is only here to catch a glimpse of you. But don’t worry, now that you’ve shown your face in public they’ll soon have other things to worry about.’

‘Why didn’t Will come tonight?’

‘He said that he wouldn’t know what to say to you. He caught a glimpse of you when you arrived with your sister last night and I suspect that he’s worried that he might end up fancying you. Guys have such a hang-up about their sexuality and gender identity, don’t they?’

‘I suppose they do,’ I replied, laughing.

‘Now Becky, I want you to tell me all about living in London and your job, its sounds really glamorous.’

So that was it, for the next ten minutes I had a new friend to talk to and so was unaware of the reactions of those around me until it was time to leave. We had exchanged email addresses and agreed to become friends on Facebook.

‘Why don’t you call round for a coffee on the afternoon of Boxing Day? Mum and Dad will be out visiting, but I’ll make sure that my brother is home. I suspect that he would really like to meet you again but is just a little nervous.’

‘Alright I might just do that.’

Mum, Carol and I returned home soon afterwards and I chatted to Lucy on the phone and told her about my recent meeting with Dad and also how I’d got on at the Carol Concert. She’d been back in East Anglia for nearly a week.

‘You won’t need to worry about the reaction of my Mum and Dad and brother when we come over tomorrow. I’ve had a long talk with them all and told them exactly how they are to behave towards you. Woe betide anyone who says a word out of line.’

‘How did you mother react the first time you told her about Becky?’ I asked.

‘Funnily enough, she wasn’t as surprised as I’d expected. Perhaps you have been unconsciously giving out signals about your gender identity for some time past. Of course Dad and my brother Jack were both astounded, but they’re only guys and so are unlikely to notice any such things.’

Carol and I got up really early on Christmas Day so that we could start the turkey cooking slowly and prepare all the vegetables that would be needed. The Christmas puddings had been made by Mum some time before, and the brandy butter by Carol the previous day. Mum joined us for a light breakfast during which we exchanged our Christmas gifts. Both my sister and Mum realised that I didn’t have a lot of disposable income, and most of what I did have was going to be required to fund my transition, and so were happy to receive gifts from among the items I’d acquired from the house in Cricklewood. In my sister’s case it was the long black dress from Pandora’s trunk, and in the mother’s case it was a Victorian jet necklace that I knew she would like. I was the last to open my two parcels which couldn’t have been more unlike one another in size and weight. I began with the one from my mother which was both large and heavy.

‘A sewing machine!’ I said with genuine surprise and delight. ‘That’s great, Mum! Thank you very much.’

‘Carol suggested the idea to me. I understand that you’ve been taking an interest in fabrics and soft furnishings recently.’

‘Yes, and I’m hoping to teach myself how to sew, and maybe in time to design and make my own clothes,’ I replied.

‘If you like I’ll give you an introductory lesson tomorrow,’ answered my mother who was an accomplished dressmaker.

‘I should like that,’ I replied.

Carol’s gift to me proved to be a neat, but not particularly expensive locket on a chain. But inside the box there was a note:

Dear Becky,
This locket is merely a token present; something to hand to you on Christmas Day. My main gift will be to pay for your psychological assessment and hormone regime over the next twelve months, as a private patient. That way there need be no unnecessary delays in achieving your objective. You will be able to begin as soon as you and your therapist consider you are ready. Good luck on your journey! With much love,
Carol.

‘Oh Carol, what can I say? You’ve been so good to me over the last three months,’ I said beginning to cry.

‘It has been a pleasure to discover that I have such a lovely younger sister,’ she replied smiling.

Mum now intervened.

‘You two have done all the important work regarding the food preparation, and everything else is ready, so why don’t you both now go and get changed whilst I keep an eye on things?’

‘I can be ready in a few minutes, but remember, Becky, that you promised to leave yourself enough time to look your best before Aunt Jill and her family arrived,’ said Carol.

‘Alright,’ I agreed as I needed to look good to give me the confidence to face my relations for the first time.

I’d brought with me a rather sleek and stylish coral pink ‘occasion dress’ to wear on Christmas Day. It had short cap sleeves and a round neckline embellished with black embroidery. It was made of a stretch fabric which tended to show off my body shape, and although the colour suited me I’d previously been a little hesitant about wearing it in case it divulged too much information about what was between my legs. However, having now been taking the hormone blockers for three weeks I no longer had any concerns in that respect. I planned to wear it with black patent heels and a matching clutch bag. As usual I also ensured that both my lipstick and nail varnish matched the colour of the dress and that my eye makeup, earrings and a mock coral necklace complemented it.

Mum seemed to approve of my chosen outfit when I returned to the kitchen, but insisted that I put on one of her aprons to protect my clothes. It was a novelty apron with the words ‘Queen of tarts’ and a picture of a cupcake on the front. My sister was already wearing one with the words ‘Don’t mess with the cook!’

Carol and I were basting the turkey when the guests arrived. We briefly emerged from the kitchen to say hello to everybody.

‘Hi Carol, hi Becky, Merry Christmas!’ said Lucy in an attempt to break the ice.

I could see that Aunt Jill seemed to be quite impressed by my appearance but that Uncle Derek was unsure what to say to me. Cousin Jack seemed to be in a state of shock with his mouth wide open.

‘Please would you excuse Becky and me as we’re just sorting out the meal,’ said Carol.

‘I’ll come with you to see if I can do anything to help,’ said Lucy, leaving the other members of her family to be entertained by Mum.

‘How have things been going?’ asked Lucy, as she busied herself taking things from the kitchen through to the dining room and directing her younger brother to help lay the table.

‘So far so good,’ I replied.

‘Becky has been showing me how to cook and carve a turkey,’ added Carol, sounding quite pleased with herself.

Ten minutes later everything was ready and Carol and I at last removed our aprons.

‘You two look so nice, I now wish that I’d decided to dress up a little more,’ said Lucy.

‘You look fine just as you are,’ I replied.

We all sat down to an excellent family Christmas dinner and everyone seemed to be going out of their way to be friendly and talkative. Inevitably there were some topics which were best avoided, at least on this one occasion. Jack did make a brief fleeting reference to ‘Nick’ at one point but I suspect it was a genuine slip of the tongue rather than an attempt to make me feel uncomfortable. Lucy gave him a look that would have set off the smoke alarm if we’d been in the hall, and he went bright red, but the incident was quickly smoothed over and the conversation continued as before.

‘I must say that you do look nice in that colour, Becky, it really suits you,’ said my Aunt.

‘Thank you very much,’ I replied, smiling.

‘Becky is one of those fortunate people where several colours schemes seem to suit her. You should have seen her in the lilac evening dress, when we had dinner together back in November,’ commented Lucy.

‘Yes, I’ve been shown the photographs; in fact all three of you looked nice on that occasion.’