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I thought I was getting a new job, but it turned out to be a whole new life

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Chapter 27   Antonette's outing

On Monday evening I cooked dinner for the family. Because Emma had to go to the theatre, we had it early – a nice Welsh lamb roast with potatoes and pumpkin, peas and carrots, oh and mint sauce of course! Everyone was rather impressed with my new-found skills for which I credited Reggie.. I had only been away from London a week but I was missing him terribly. For all my attempts to be blasé about the chance of losing him, the truth was it would break my heart. We had been in touch by phone every day, but it wasn't the same.

I packed most of my clothes that evening, and on Tuesday morning, Emma drove me to the station for my return trip to London. Despite the fact I'd only been living there a few months, it seemed quite familiar to me now as I alighted from the train and took the tube to Finsbury Park. Louise welcomed me back, and so did Anthony, although rather shyly. I wondered if he had been dressing much while I'd been away, and if his make-up skills were improving.

I know it sounds silly but I felt almost guilty about returning to the theatre on Wednesday morning to resume my role. I was sure Elspeth couldn't be looking forward to my return and I wondered how she would greet me.

“Hello Harriet, welcome back,” she said when she saw me that evening.

“Hello Elspeth, how did it go?” I enquired.

“Great! I really enjoyed it, but I realise that you couldn't stay away for ever. How's your mum by the way?”

“She's fine. Aunt Peggy has come over from Australia to stay for a month and look after her.”

“That was kind of her,” said Elspeth. I wondered if she was thinking that without Aunt Peggy I might have had to stay away longer. Then I thought that was unkind. I felt I had been even more unkind when she followed up by saying “Actually, I'm quite glad you are back. I started my period the day after you left, and I found playing a matinee and an evening performance quite exhausting.”

“Do you think you might be a bit anaemic?” I asked. “You do look pale sometimes.”

“You might be right,” she replied. “Perhaps I should go and see my doctor and get a test done. You always seem to look good, no matter what time of the month it is.”

“I guess I”m lucky,” I replied. “It's never affected me much.”

I was really happy to be back in London although I missed seeing Mum, and I would like to have seen more of Aunt Peggy. I hoped that she and Mum would make it down to see me in the play.

Back at the Burton's house things were pretty much the same except that Antonette was now making regular appearances. One day she said to me “I wish I could go out of the house but I promised Mum I wouldn't. Would you be willing to take me?”

“Only if your Mum agrees,” I said. I wasn't totally sure that I could rely on getting a truthful answer from Antonette, so the next opportunity I had I asked Louise about it.

“Oh dear,” she said. “I had a feeling that would be the next request.”

“Well, if she's going to do it, it would be far safer if she goes out with someone like me since she's going to be extremely nervous the first time.”

Louise managed a smile. “I was hoping that by giving him, I mean her permission to dress at home that would be sufficient, but it seems it isn't.”

“If 'her' heart is set on it, there's little you can do other than to be supportive.”

Louise sighed. “Did this used to happen years ago?” she said.

“I think it probably did, but before the internet came along I think a lot of people like Antonette thought they were the only ones who felt that way, I know I did. Now they know that they are not alone, in fact there's thousands like them.”

“Is it only boys wanting to be girls?”

“Apparently not, although they are in the majority, but there are certainly girls wanting to be boys. Of course there have always been 'tomboys' who almost never wore a dress and always wanted to be 'one of the boys'. They were accepted in a way that a boy wanting to be a girl has never been.

“I suppose you're right,” said Louise. “We'll just have to wait and see what happens.”

The next day, Antonette told me that her mum had given her permission to go out so long as it was with me.

“It will have to be on a day when I don't have a matinee,” I replied. “How about Friday?”

Friday came and Anthony seemed to arrive home from school in record time to transform himself into Antonette. I had already stressed the importance of not standing out in a crowd, so it was agreed that she would wear a woollen skirt and black opaque tights since her heart was set on wearing a skirt. She also put on a warm woollen top, and boots with two inch heels that one of her sisters had left behind. I checked her makeup before we went out and praised her technique which was really quite good by now. I had decided to wear grey trousers and boots, along with a leather jacket over my warm woollen top.

“We must be back by six o'clock so that I'm not late for the theatre,” I said.

When we reached the front door, Antonette stopped. “I'm not sure if I'm ready for this after all,” she said.

“It's your choice,” I responded. “No-one is making you do this, but I think you'll find that the first time is the hardest – it stands to reason.”

I thought to myself ' Careful girl, this could be tricky. Take care you don't say anything that gives you away.'

Antonette took a deep breath. “You're right – it's now or never.” With that she opened the door and stepped out.

As we walked down the street she said “Can you hear my heart? It's beating so loudly!”

I smiled. “No Antonette, it's fine, and you look great. Try to relax and enjoy yourself.”

We reached the cafe which I had decided was our target for the day.

“Let's go in for a cup of coffee. You find a table and I'll buy them, alright?”

Antonette nodded and did as I asked. When I brought the coffees over she looked a little calmer. I noticed that she had selected the table furthest from all the other customers.

“You're looking great, really,” I reassured her. “The next time will be easier.”

“You sound like you know all about this,” she said.

“You remember my friend I told you about? The one who's transitioning? Well I took her out for her first time too, and she reacted just like you, including thinking her heart-beat was so loud people would hear it.”

“I wish I could talk to her,” said Antonette wistfully.

I smiled to myself, thinking 'You're closer to her than you'll ever know.'

As we walked back to the house I had a small scare. In a scenario eerily similar to what happened the first time I went out with my sister, three teenage girls were walking down the street towards us chatting animatedly with each other. I've been told that for some reason, girls, particularly teenagers have an uncanny knack of picking trans people. I suspect it might be because they always check out what other girls and women are wearing whereas most adults are totally oblivious to other people that they pass. I uttered a silent prayer that they wouldn't detect Antonette. As for myself I had long ago stopped worrying that anyone would pick me. I held my breath as they passed us, and there was no giggling or laughing. Antonette had passed another test without knowing it.

“Wait!” The voice came from behind us and my heart lurched. We both turned around. One of the girls was walking towards us.

“You dropped your purse,” she said, holding it out to me. I let out the breath I had been holding.

“Oh stupid me. Thank you so much,” I said as I took it. However, she was still looking at me closely.

“Aren't you the babe in the play our school made us go to see last week?”

I smiled “If you mean 'Dear Brutus', yes that's me.”

Her response surprised me. “Don't you get bored spouting the same lines day after day?”

“Well no actually. Each performance is different because we have to respond to the way the audience is reacting. If they laugh we have to wait until the noise dies down so we don't get drowned out, that sort of thing.”

“What about your friend, is she in it too?”

“No she isn't.”

“O.K.,” she didn't sound that interested. “See ya.” and she turned away to rejoin her friends.

I looked at Antonette. She appeared frozen to the spot, the blood drained out of her face.

“Come on Antonette, we'd better get you home.”

“That was awesome, you handled her so well,” she said. I smiled. I didn't want her to know how worried I was that she was going to be exposed, and all because of my stupidity.

When we arrived back at her house, she went upstairs and I walked into the kitchen where Louise was preparing tea.

“How did it go?” she asked.

“Quite well,” I replied. “She was nervous of course but she handled it very well and next time she'll be more relaxed.”

Louise raised an eyebrow at that.

“I think she's serious about this,” I said.

“I was afraid of that,” responded Louise, and then she blushed. “I'm sorry, that was a rather tactless thing to say.”

I smiled. “I'm not offended,” I said. “I'm sure it must be a difficult thing for a parent to get their head around, and it's really only in recent years that young people, below the age of taking responsibility for their own actions, have started to have their feelings regarding their gender taken seriously. Perhaps like me, you can take Anthony or Antonette, whichever way you wish to call your child, to a specialist, and if they feel there is a strong possibility of them expressing gender dysphoria, then Aldactone can be prescribed. The effects are reversible, so no harm is done if he or she decides that a life as Anthony is the final decision. I hope that didn't sound too convoluted?”

Louise smiled ruefully. “It does become rather difficult if you're not sure if you should be referring to your child as 'he' or 'she'.

“I think my mother knew even before I did that this is the path my life would eventually take,” I responded. I looked at my watch. “Goodness, look at the time, I really have to get to the theatre.” So we left it at that.

Life settled back into its routine. I kept in touch with Mum and Aunt Peggy of course and was pleased to get reports that after a week or so at home, Mum was already able to take short trips out, and after two weeks she expressed herself 'as right as rain'.

I spoke to Reggie frequently of course and the following Sunday we were once more able to spend a day together at his flat in Southgate. Those were my favourite times with him. We pretended to be a married couple and spend part of the time doing housework, and part doing cooking. Reggie said I was becoming a competent cook.

Of course, our favourite part of the day were the afternoons we spent in bed together. To have this wonderful man all to myself was a total delight. To be his woman and to submit to his desires as well as expressing my own by giving myself to him body and soul was something that I had never dreamed could happen in those early days when he first saw me as a girl. I knew in my heart that he was the only man for me and when our bodies blended into one in that ecstasy so intense that the French describe it as 'la petite mort', I could even ignore for a moment that small voice at the back of my mind which said 'this might not be forever'.

Afterwards, as we lay together, gasping for breath and our hearts pounding he would always say to me “I love you Harriet,” and I would reply “I love you too Reggie, so very very much.”

Back at the Burton's house, I taught Antonette how to do her eye makeup. She was a quick learner and soon became very good at it. The next thing she wanted to do was have her ears pierced.

“Do any of the boys at your school have pierced ears?” I asked.

“Yes, quite a few,” she replied. “They just wear plain gold studs in them of course, and I could too while at school but then wear earrings at home.”

She'd obviously got it all worked out. As usual, I said it would have to be done with permission from her parents and this was forthcoming, so one Saturday morning we went together down to a local beauty parlour where her ears were pierced and the studs inserted. They gave her an instruction sheet on taking care of the piercings which she promised to follow. We had had a discussion on whether she should go there as Anthony or Antonette and Antonette won out. I had to admit that she looked very convincing as a girl, and this time she was a lot more relaxed about going out. The whole event passed without incident, and if the staff at the beauty parlour noticed anything, they certainly gave no indication.

Back home, it seemed that both Louise and Bob were resigned to having three daughters, and Louise told me that she had made an appointment for Antonette to see their local G.P., with a view to seeing a specialist.

“One thing that bothers me is her schooling,” she said during one of our discussions. “I think the only option will be for her to attend a different school if she starts living full-time as a girl. It won't be a great problem as she has no real friends at her present school, and I don't want to run the risk of her being bullied.

The final week of the production arrived and speaking to Mum on the phone on the Monday afternoon, she told me she felt well enough to travel now and wondered if I could get tickets for her and Aunt Peggy if they came down to London to see the show on Saturday.

“I can't get you any for the final performance,” I said. “It's completely sold out, but I might be able to get you some for the matinee. How does that sound?”

“For me it would be better,” replied Mum. “I still get a bit tired in the evenings. That illness really took it out of me.”

It was arranged that she and Aunt Peggy would come down by train on Friday and stay in the hotel where she, Emma and I stayed. I immediately rang Nella in the theatre box office and asked about matinee tickets for them.

Nella laughed. “Well the angels are looking after you. Until five minutes ago I only had a few single tickets in the 'gods', but I've just had two tickets returned in Row J in the stalls due to illness. Shall I put them away for you?”

“Yes, please save them under the name of Mrs Elizabeth Stow. I'll call in later today and pay for them.”

I put the phone down and was making myself a cup of tea when the phone rang.

“Hello, is that Harriet? This is Phoebe Wells.”

“Phoebe! Congratulations on getting the part,” I said and I really meant it.

“Thank you,” she replied. “To be honest, I was fairly confident until I saw you audition. You were truly amazing. As you know, I've mostly been in television soaps. I was in “Wensleydale” until recently, but they've written me out by sending my character off to Australia.”

“Why would they do that?” I asked.

“Search me – producers do things like that sometimes and the poor actors have no say in the matter. Anyway I've got this part for a three month season and that gives me time to look around for something else.”

“I'm sure you'll find something,” I replied.

“Anyway, the reason I'm ringing you is that my parents suggested that I rent a flat in Stratford rather than stay in a hotel all that time. However they don't want me to live on my own. I know I've only met you briefly, but I was so glad to hear that you are going to be my understudy, and I was wondering if you would like to share with me?”

It took me at least ten seconds to digest the implications of what she was suggesting, and she took my silence to mean that I wasn't interested.

“Of course we hardly know each other, so if you don't want to......” she said.

“Oh no, it's not that,” I replied. “It's just that there's something you don't know about me.”

She laughed. “Are you going to tell me you're a boy?”

I gasped and she heard me. “I was joking Harriet, you're the most feminine girl I know.”

I took a deep breath. I would have to tell her. “Phoebe, the thing is you are half-right. You see I'm transitioning from male to female.”

“You're joking! Really?”

“Really,” I assured her. “It's not something I'd joke about.”

“Well I would never have guessed. Does anyone else know?”

“Well some people do down here, but no-one in Stratford does. I didn't feel it was necessary to tell them if they thought I was good enough to perform the role. After all there's a certain irony since boys played all the girls' parts in Shakespeare's time. Now that you know, I can quite understand that you will want to withdraw your offer.”

Phoebe surprised me. “Why would I want to do that? It's not like you'd want to climb into bed with me,” and she laughed.

I laughed too. “Well, you're very attractive but I'm not into girls. I actually have a very nice boyfriend. He knows all about me and he's very supportive.”

“So is that a 'yes' then?” she asked.

“ 'Yes',” I replied. “And thank you. I think we will enjoy sharing a flat together.”

“Good. I'll see what I can find and be in touch as soon as I find something suitable. My parents are going to help and they'll be really pleased you're going to share with me, and no, there's no need for them to know either. Oh, there's just one more thing. I assume you have no objection to my boyfriend staying over?”

“No, provided you don't mind if mine stays over as well?”

With that we both laughed and finished the call, and it was then as I raised my eyes from the phone that they met those of Anthony. He was standing there with his mouth open, goggle-eyed.

“Hi Anthony,” I said, as coolly as I could.

“Was that right what you said? About transitioning I mean?”

“Yes Anthony, it is true and if you're wondering why I didn't tell you, it's because I didn't want to say anything which might influence you in what you decide to do.”

“I would never have guessed. You're not kidding me are you?”

“No I'm not, and I don't intend to do anything to prove it to you; you'll have to take my word for it.”

“So the girl you were talking about who was transitioning, that was really you wasn't it?”

“Yes it was,” I admitted. “I'm currently taking a medication to stop me developing male characteristics but I hope to start hormones soon and eventually have surgery. I know that this is the right thing for me, and maybe it is for you, but maybe it isn't. Meanwhile, I would be really grateful if you wouldn't tell anyone else. I'm trying to keep this as low-key as I can. I know some trans-women have gone public, but I'm not one of them.”

“You don't have to worry, I can keep a secret,” he said, and then he had a thought, “Does my mother know about you?”

“Yes she does and so do some other theatre people here but not everyone.”

“O.k., can we go out together again soon?”

“Sure we can, provided your mum is still alright about it,” I replied, hoping that he wasn't planning to blackmail me to get what he wanted. I wanted him to realise that there was no way I was going to give in to pressure. After all, it was in his interests that I kept quiet about him too. Nonetheless I wished I had been more aware of my surroundings while chatting to Phoebe or I would have been more careful in what I said to her.

To be continued

I would like to acknowledge the assistance of Louise Anne in proofreading the text and giving me a great deal of useful advice about modern-day Britain to incorporate in the story.