At Aunt Greta’s–
Encounters with Friends
by Gabi
Chapter 9 of a Continuing Saga…

I went into the last vacant cubicle, closed the door, but discovered that the bolt was missing. ‘Bum!’ I thought, ‘Oh well, we’re all girls here,’ and with my thumbs hooked in the waistband, eased my knickers down to my knees before sitting “on the throne”.

Suddenly, before I could sit down, the cubicle door burst open and there was Lucy Barker. She took one look at me and screamed.

I looked down at myself and discovered to my horror that, once again, I had a PENIS!

I screamed…

…and woke up in a cold sweat with my nightie clinging to my damp body, cramps in my tummy and urgently needing to go to the loo for a wee. Turning on my bedside light, my alarm clock told me it was twenty past three. I yawned, pushed back the duvet, swung my legs round and fumbled around with my feet for my bedroom slippers. I had found one when the door opened and an anxious-looking Auntie G came in.

‘Are you all right, Gabs?’ she asked. ‘I heard you scream twice.’

Twice? ‘I had a bad dream and I need a wee or I’ll wet my pants,’ I replied.

‘Off you go then,’ she said, ‘and don’t forget to change your pad if you need to.’

‘Okay, Auntie.’

Following my rather frightening dream, I was apprehensive about checking down below, but if I didn’t pull my knickers down–at least they weren’t the navy blue bloomers we had to wear to school in 1944–I would wet them. I hoisted up my nightie, eased them down and…my front bottom was intact and there was no sign of Percy the Penis! I breathed a sigh of relief, sat down and relieved the pressure in the boiler.

I pulled off some loo paper, cleaned myself, disposed of my soiled pad in the bin Auntie had put for me, put in a new pad, pulled up my panties again, and returned to my bedroom; Auntie was sitting on the edge of my bed.

‘Feeing better, honey?’ she asked.

‘A bit. My tummy hurts quite a lot.’

‘Would you like me to refill your hottie?’ she asked.

“It’s okay. I can manage.’

‘Fiddlesticks! A nice warm hottie will help you get back to sleep quickly. It’ll only take two shakes of a lamb’s tail. Would you like a bicky?’*

‘Mmmm, please. May I have a chocolate Hobnob?**

‘I’ll bring you two,’ she said, leaving my room with my, now cold, hot-water bottle.

‘Thanks, Auntie,’ I called after her. I got into bed again and pulled the duvet up over me again. I was still thinking about my awful dream and wondered why I had had it. Then I thought about my old best mate, Mike Heard; I was worried how he would take the change in me and even if he would accept me at all, especially as my cover story was that I had always been a girl but had been pretending to be a boy. I hoped he wouldn’t think I had set out to deceive him.

Auntie returned with a my hot-water bottle which she plonked on my tummy; the warmth was very comforting and it seemed as if the pain eased straight away. She put two chocky Hobnobs and a glass of milk on my bedside table.

‘Thanks, Auntie,’ I said. ‘Sorry I woke you up.’

‘That’s all right, sweetie,’ she said, sitting on the edge of my bed and squeezing my hand. ‘It’s what aunties are for. Would you like to tell me about your dream, or can’t you remember it?’

I gave her the short version rather than the blow-by-blow account, explaining about the loo cubicle without a bolt.

‘I remember that one,’ Auntie said. ‘We always tried to avoid it, unless we needed to go so badly we were crossing our legs.’

‘I was,’ I replied, nibbling at my Hobnob and sipping my milk. ‘You should be having a biscuit too,’ I told her, ‘then we could call it a midnight feast.’

‘Like in Enid Blyton’s school stories,’ she added. ‘I always loved reading about midnight feasts when I was your age, Gabs, they seemed so adventurous and just a bit naughty, and I was always scared the girls would get caught. Now finish up your bickies and milk and try to get to sleep again, or you will be tired in the morning.’

I finished my second Hobnob, drank the last of my milk and snuggled down. ‘Thanks for being so nice, Auntie. You’re so kind to me.’

‘Ssshhhh!’ she cooed. ‘Try to get to sleep now, poppet.’ She picked up my empty tumbler and put out my bedside light. ‘Sleep well.’ She went to the door turned out the ceiling light and pulled the door to behind her.

* * *

The next thing I remember is being wakened by Auntie in the morning. She had brought me a cup of tea which she set down on my bedside table.

‘It’s half past eight, Gabs. I thought you needed to lie in for a bit after last night’s shenanigans.’

I yawned, stretched like a cat and sat up. ‘Early morning tea; what luxuriousness,’ I said. ‘Thank you, Auntie.’

‘I thought I would spoil you while I could; after all school starts again the day after tomorrow, and you won’t be able to lie in then. How’s your tum this morning? I’ve brought you a paracetamol if you need one.’

‘Seems a bit better,’ I replied after taking a sip of tea. ‘I think a pill would help; it did yesterday, and please may I have a bath?’

‘Of course. D’you want me to come and wash your hair?’

‘Yes please. It’s so luxurious having someone else wash my hair.’

‘’Tis, isn’t it?’ She smiled at me. ‘Okay, I’ll go and run your bath for you, so drink up your tea and come through when you’ve finished.’

* * *

My bath was great, and I really enjoyed it. After Auntie had blow-dried my hair and given it a bit of what she called body, I finished dressing. I decided to wear one of my new skirts–I chose the lilac pleated one–and a tee-shirt, with ankle socks and a pair of my new sandals, then went downstairs to the kitchen where Auntie had set out my breakfast and was making another pot of tea. A glance at the kitchen clock told me it was nearly twenty past nine. I helped myself to Crunchy Nut cornflakes and poured on some milk. When I was about half-way through my cereal Auntie lowered a large brown egg into a pan of boiling water, looked at her watch–she wore a man’s sports watch–and put two slices of bread in the toaster. As I finished my cornflakes, Auntie was buttering a slice of toast, spreading Marmite on it and cutting it into soldiers. She checked her watch, lifted my egg out of the pan with a desert spoon, popped it into an egg-cup and put it in front of me. I was so glad that eggs weren’t rationed in my own time, as I loved eggs and often had one for breakfast.

Auntie sat down next to me and poured mugs of tea for each of us; then she buttered a piece of toast for herself and spread some Oxford Marmalade on it.

‘Don’t forget we have to go shopping for trainers and netball shoes,’ Auntie reminded me. ‘Would you like to do that this morning, then you could meet your new friends after lunch.’

‘All right,’ I replied. ‘When shall we go?’

‘As soon as we’ve cleared up brekky if you like. Look why don’t you ’phone Angela or Kristal and see if either or both of them would like to come round this afternoon, then we’ll know if we need to come back or if we can have lunch out.’

‘That would be kewl. Let’s do it.’

‘Go and give Angela a ring, and then we’ll go and get your shoes.’

I had looked up the Williamson’s number and was about to pick up the handset to tap out the number, when it rang. ‘Nine, four, nine, seven, six, three,’ I said, parrot fashion into the handset.

‘Is that you, Gaby?’ a voice said. ‘This is Angela.’

‘Hi, Angie. I was just going to ring you.’

‘Ah, great minds think alike. How’s your curse today?’

‘A bit better, I think. How are you?’

‘I’m good. Mummy wondered if you’d like to come round to tea this afternoon, I’m going to ask Kristal too.’

‘That would be brill,’ I replied. ‘Auntie’s taking me to get my new trainers this morning.’

‘Kewl. Wotcha gonna get?’

‘Dunno yet. I’ll have to see what they have at Sportive Emporium.’

‘They’ll probably have the new Nikes. They’re really really kewl.’

‘I don’t know if we can afford Nike, but it would be great to have some,’ I replied. ‘By the way. Where do you live?’

‘69 Letsbeigh Avenue. We’re on the left hand side a bit beyond the bend. Our gate is painted turquoise.’

‘Okay, see you this afters. What time?’

‘Mummy suggests you come about a quarter to three.

Okay. See ya then.’

‘Sure. Have fun shopping, Gabs, you lucky girl.’

‘I will. ’Bye, Angie.’

‘’Bye, Gabs.’ There was a click as she rang off and I went to find Auntie.

‘Did you speak to Angela?’ she asked.

‘Yes. She rang me and she’s asked me for tea, this afternoon,’ I replied. ‘She’s going to ask Kristal as well.’

‘That’ll be nice; you three girls got on so well yesterday. Now, as parking so often is a pain, I suggest we leave the car at home and take the bus into town; we won’t have much to carry back and if we went on the bike we’d both have to change; my leathers can be awfully hot in weather like this and your hair would get spoiled by your skidlid.’

‘It’ll be fun to go on a bus for a change,’ I replied, ‘I haven’t been on one for yoinks. We can go upstairs and watch the world around us.’

‘That’s settled then. We’ll leave in about fifteen minutes.’

* * *

The bus ride into town took about half an hour, but of course the bus kept stopping to let people on and off; in the car we usually took about twenty minutes and on Auntie’s BMW it rarely took us more than twelve minutes. We got off at the Market Square and walked back to King Street and Sportive Emporium. It was a large, double-fronted shop with the windows displaying a wide range of equipment and clothing for anything from football, hockey and lacrosse to skating and skiing, it being the end of the summer there was less emphasis on cricket, tennis and other summer activities,

We headed straight for the footwear department where we found a ginormous selection of shoes and boots for every sport imaginable.

A young lady assistant smiled at us; ‘Good morning, Madam, good morning, Miss,’ she said cheerfully. ‘How may I help you?’

‘My niece, Gaby, is looking for some netball shoes.’

‘What size are you, Gaby?’ asked the assistant, whose name badge told us she was called Ms Pond.

‘I think I’m a four, Ms Pond,’ I replied, glancing down at my feet.

‘I’d better measure your feet to make sure, and please call me Lily–Ms Pond sounds too formal,’ said Ms Lily Pond.

She knelt in front of me with a gadget for me to fit my foot on. I placed my heel against the end bit and Lily slid the bar at the other end down till it touched my toes. ‘Four and a half,’ she said, ‘so I reckon that if you try a five, you’ll have a bit of room to grow into.’ She stood up and disappeared into the back shop, returning with three boxes.

‘Try one of these, Gaby,’ she said, opening a box and taking out a smart-looking trainer. ‘This is the Asics Netburner Junior, a very popular make because the England netball team wear Asics.’ I slipped my right foot into the shoe and she tightened up the laces and tied them. ‘How does that feel?’

‘Good,’ I replied. ‘may I try the other one on, please?’

‘Here you go,’ she said, holding out the left shoe. As soon as it was on I stood up and walked up and down the shoe department. ‘How do they feel?’

‘Very comfy, and quite springy,’ was my reply.

‘Do you like them, poppet?’ Auntie G asked. ‘I must say they are much smarter than we wore when I was your age. We only had our black plimsolls. Try the others before you decide.’

The next ones were called Adidas Netrunner. They were super comfy too, but cost more than the others, so I decided to buy the Asics. I tried them on again and had another walk round. I was looking at them in a mirror when I heard a voice; ‘Gab? Is that you?’

I looked up and saw Mrs Berry and her eldest daughter–she was in my class at school–Juniper, looking wide-eyed at me; ’Not another one!’ I thought and then said, ‘Oh hi, Juniper.’ She was wearing a blue miniskirt and a cerise tee.

‘Why are you wearing a skirt?’ she asked.

‘Why are you,’ I retorted.

‘’Coz I’m a girl,’ came the reply.

‘So’m I,’ I told her.

‘WHAT?’ she exclaimed. ‘You can’t be. You’re a boy–you’ve always been a boy as long as I’ve known you.’

‘What do you think these are, then?’ I asked, thrusting my mini-boobs forward so they showed through my top. Her jaw dropped as she goldfished for a few moments, so I added, ‘I decided I couldn’t hide these any longer and I’d been a tomboy long enough. So you’re now seeing me as I was meant to be.’

‘But why did you pretend to be a boy?’

‘’Coz I wanted to be like my big brother,’ I explained, ‘and I liked playing with boys’ toys.’

‘Not toy boys?’ she returned and dissolved into a giggle fit. I wasn’t sure what she meant and I was about to say something when I noticed Mrs Berry turning rather pink.

‘So I suppose your name has been Gabrielle all along?’ Mrs Berry asked, emphasising the “elle”.

‘Yes, Mrs Berry, but most people call me Gaby or Gabs.’

‘So, Gabs,’ said Juniper. ‘How many of the others at school know about the new you?’

‘Miss Morgan,’ I replied, ‘and Nurse Parry; and then there’s Angela Williamson and her mum, and Kristal and Mrs Ball–oh, and Kristal’s awful brother.’

‘The Kevin Monster?’ queried Juniper. ‘I bet he was horrible to you, more than he usually is.’

‘Yeah. We were in Polly’s and he shouted out that I was a boy in a skirt and that Quinn would laugh his oafish head off. I wanted to hide under the table.’

‘I bet you did,’ said Juniper. ‘What happened then?’

‘Mrs Ball tore a strip off him and took him home–poking him in the back with her umbrella. Kristal stayed and had tea and ice creams with Angela, her mum and my mum. She–Angela, I mean–Kristal and I have become good friends. I’m starting to realise what I’ve missed out on by trying to be a boy. It’s much nicer being a girl.’

‘Girls always stick together and support each other,’ Mrs Berry said. ‘Boys can be so stupid and uncivilised.’

‘My brother, Tim, isn’t stupid or uncivilised,’ I retorted defensively.

‘No, he’s a nice boy,’ agreed Mrs Berry. ‘What does he think about your being a girl now?’

‘He thinks it’s great,’ I replied, ‘but he hasn’t seen the new me yet as he has bubonic plague and I’m staying with Auntie Greta till he’s bug-free.’

‘Bubonic plague!’ exclaimed Mrs Berry, looking extremely alarmed.

‘No, Mrs Berry,’ Auntie chimed in. ‘That’s what Gaby calls it, the naughty girl, because she likes to spread alarm and despondency. Poor Tim caught scarlet fever at Scout camp, but antibiotics are doing the trick and he’s much better. Gaby’s staying with me until he’s well clear of all infection.’

‘I spoke to him on the ’phone yesterday,’ I said, ‘and he told me his tongue looked like a pink strawberry.’

‘Eeewwww! That sounds sooooo yukky,’ Juniper squealed, pulling a face.

‘Gabs, don’t you think we should buy those shoes so Ms Pond can serve someone else,’ Auntie said.

Juniper looked at my feet. ‘Are those Netburners?’

‘Yep.’ I grinned. ‘They’re sooooo comfortable.’

‘They look it. Please may I have a pair, Mummy?’

‘I thought you wanted some pink Nike trainers, darling,’ Mrs Berry said. ‘You can have one or the other, but not both; we’re not made of money, whatever you might think.’

‘I do, but could I just try a pair of the Asics,’ Juniper pleaded making big eyes at her mother. ‘They’re the ones worn by the England Netball Team. Pleeease, Mummy.’

‘Very well, but I’m only buying you ONE pair of trainers. We still have to get other things for school.’

‘Yes, Mummy,’ replied Juniper. ‘Things like BORING navy PE knickers. My old ones are perfectly all right.’

‘They are not perfectly all right,’ Mrs Berry informed her daughter. ‘They’re too small, too tight and they are so immodest that they show everything you’ve got! I’d be ashamed to have you or any daughter of mine flaunting herself during PE wearing such knickers.’

‘But, Mum-meee, it’s not as if any boys see us–they do PE in a different building–and anyway it’s kewl to wear tight panties for PE these days, and we do wear skirts over them,’ whinged Juniper.

‘I should think they are Cool as you call it,’ retorted her mum, ‘so cool you’re likely to catch your death of cold.’

‘Mum-mee,’ said Juniper. ‘Not cool, KEWL, meaning like, fashionable. It’s not like it was in your day when you wore those hideous baggy bloomers with a vest and no skirt for PE. Don’t you remember, you showed me pictures of you and Auntie Vi at your school sports day. If we had to dress like that for sports day I’d be sooooo embarrassed I'd die!’

‘I really don’t know what’s become of you lately, Juniper. You have become so argumentative of late. I wish you wouldn’t argue with me in public.’

The banter of their conversation made me think about yesterday morning when I had to do gym in 1944 dressed in my vest and knickers and had ended up in the sick bay having fainted.

I took off my new Netburners so they could be put back in their box for us to take home. Juniper was trying on a pair that Lily had brought out for her.

Juniper decided to go for the Netburners too. ‘See you back at school then, Gabs,’ she called, as Mrs Berry paid for the shoes.

‘Okay, Juniper. See you there,’ I called back as they left the shop.

‘Gabs, you need some other trainers, don’t you?’ Auntie reminded me, ‘for when you’re not at school.’

So we looked at more trainers, and I decided on a very girlie-looking pair of Nikes and we left the Sportive Emporium with two additions to my female wardrobe. I decided that as soon as we got home I should ’phone my best mate and warn him about my changed circumstances, so he wouldn’t get so much of a shock when we met at school.

We walked to the end of King Street and as we turned into the Market Square I bumped into a boy whom I had not noticed.

I was about to say ‘Sorry’ when he exclaimed, ‘Why can’t girls look where they’re going?’

I recognised the voice and said, ‘I’m sorry, Mike, I didn’t see you.’

As my best mate looked me up and down his jaw dropped; if it had hit the ground it would have made a resounding clang. He shut his eyes, shook his head and opened them again and looked me up and down again, his eyes lingering momentarily on my budding booblets. ‘Omygod, Gab man, is that you? Why the hell are you dressed like that? Have you had a sex change or something?’

‘Or something would be the closest,’ I replied with a giggle. ‘This is the real me–Miss Gabrielle Chambers, at your service.’

He goldfished again. ‘But you’re a boy–aren’t you? We’re best mates. I’m sure I’d have twigged long ago if you were a girl.’

‘She is, Michael,’ Auntie Greta told him, ‘I can guarantee that she is one hundred percent girl. Are you on your own or is your mum with you?’

‘On my own. I’ve been buying a book.’ He showed us a W H Smith carrier bag.

‘Why don’t you join us for a coffee, and Gaby can explain. Will you come to Starbucks with us? My treat.’

‘Yes, do come, Mike,’ I urged.

‘Yes, I’d love to but I can’t be very long as I have to get home for lunch.’

‘So so we, young man,’ said Auntie Greta. ‘So what do you think of your best mate?’

‘I’m a bit surprised to be honest, but I can’t deny you look like a girl, Gab. A pretty one, too.’

‘Thank you, kind sir,’ I replied, bobbing a curtsy and giving him a hug. ‘I hope you don’t mind,’ I added when I noticed him blushing.

‘No, It’s just that I wasn’t expecting it,’ was his reply. ‘So you were just pretending to be a boy? Why, for goodness sake?’

‘Because I wanted to be like Tim and I loved playing with boy toys. But now my body’s started to change in a way that I can’t hide it any longer.’

‘So what does Tim think of his little sister?’

‘He was kind of expecting it,’ I answered, ‘We’ve only spoken about it on the phone coz he picked up a bug at Scout Camp, so I’m staying with Auntie G until he’s free of infection.’

‘Oh, was he one of the ones that caught scarlet fever?’ Michael asked. ‘I heard that three of them got it, but apart from Tommy Davies I didn’t know who else was plague-ridden. The rest of those at camp are in quarantine so they won’t be back at school either.’

We sat at a table and Auntie asked what we wanted and went to get them.

‘Are those you?’ Mike asked, glancing at my chest.

‘My boobs? Yes, all mine! They are the main reason I couldn’t go on pretending to be a boy.’

‘So are you happy being a girl? I mean if you wanted to be a boy all that time, isn’t it a bit of a disappointment?’

‘No, I knew I’d have to change eventually. I hope you don’t think I’ve been deceiving you all this time?’ I asked.

‘No, not now I’ve got over the shock.’ He grinned at me, the same old friendly Mike. I gave a sigh of relief. ‘Don’t you feel peculiar wearing skirts and stuff?’

‘Not really. Actually, girls’ clothes fit much better and are much more comfortable than boys’. You really ought to try them sometime,’ I added with a giggle.

‘I DON’T think so,’ he said very firmly as Auntie returned with our lattes.

‘I didn’t bring anything to eat as you won’t want to spoil your appetites for lunch,’ she said.

‘That’s fine, Auntie, isn’t it Mike?’

‘Yeah, fine, thank you Miss Chambers. And what about the model railway you and Tim built, Gab?’ Mike said.

‘Well that was mainly Tim,’ I replied. ‘I only really did the scenery and things.’

We chatted on for about half an hour telling Mike about the confrontation with the Kevin the Dreadful the day before, and how Angela, Kristal and Juniper had accepted me. Needless to say, nothing was said by either Auntie or I about my time-slip adventures or the real story of my transformation. That would be too much for anyone to accept.

We finished out lattes, Mike thanked Auntie G, and said goodbye and Auntie and I went to catch our bus. ‘Would you fancy a Chinese take-away for lunch?’ Auntie asked on the bus when we were nearly home.

‘That would be kewl,’ I replied. So when we got off the bus we called in at the Foo Kin Chinese Restaurant on the corner of our road and ordered our take-away lunch.

* * *

We got a selection of dishes so we could “mix and match” as Auntie called it then dashed home, put the foil containers the oven to keep everything warm and then laid the kitchen table–we usually ate our take-aways in the kitchen. I went upstairs for a wee and changed my pad. My tummy was feeling a bit easier, so I hoped that my period might be over soon.

At about half past two I was ready to go round to Angela’s. Letsbeigh Avenue is only about seven minutes walk from Auntie’s, so it was no great distance. I had decided to wear my new pink and white Nikes and as the weather was set fair I didn’t need a coat; so I just slung my bag over my shoulder and set off, enjoying the free and easy way I could move wearing a skirt; I was really relishing the feeling the warm late summer air on my bare legs.

As I turned left into Letsbeigh Avenue, was thinking about how nice it was going to be having a girlie afternoon with Angela and Kristal. I followed the road round the bend in the road that Angie had told me about; after a short distance I passed an alleyway on my left and checked the number of the nearest house. It was number 39, so I still had a bit to go before 69. Suddenly I sensed I was not alone and speeded up my steps. I didn’t want to turn round so I pressed on a little quicker. The road was empty ahead and I was still some way from the Williamson’s house.

Then I was grabbed from behind, a hand being clapped over my mouth before I could even scream. I struggled to get free but it was no use.

‘Well, Chambers, I see it’s true that you’ve gone all potty. My mate, Kev Ball, ’phoned and told me you were pretending to be a girl and had got him grounded for a month, and he also told me you were going to meet his stupid sister at Angela Williamson’s house this afternoon.’ I recognised the voice instantly as belonging to the bullying oaf, Quinn, and I was suddenly very aware that somebody else had put their hand up my skirt––!

* Bicky: Contraction of biscuit–a cookie in the U.S.
** Hobnob: A popular crunchy biscuit manufactured in U.K. by McVities made mainly from oats and available either plain or with one side chocolate-coated. (Very more-ish!)

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To be continued…

Thanks are due to Bonzi and his Mum once again for their splendid proofing.
Any mistakes remaining are the entire responsibility of the author.

Comments gratefully received