Totally Insane 10–Additions.
by Angharad

“Come on, Darling, get yourself showered and I’ll show you how to do your hair.”

How can my mother be so happy this early in the morning–bum, it’s a Saturday too! This hair business is a pain, why can’t I just keep it in a ponytail like I usually do?

“Come along, Sweetie-pie, hurry up,” Mummy urged me.

“What for? It’s like Saturday.”

“We’re off to see your Nan and Gramps.”

I had completely forgotten about that. “I can’t go like this!” I said pulling at my nightdress.

“Of course not…”

I sighed in relief.

“I thought you could wear your new red dress,” said my mother pulling the offending item out of my wardrobe.

“What? I can’t wear that!” I was nearly in tears.

“Why ever not?” My mother put the dress down and sat on the bed alongside me.

“Because I can’t.”

“But your Nan’s expecting to see her new granddaughter?”

“You, like, told her?” I gasped.

“I had to, Sweetie, especially as you seem to have made up your mind to stay as a girl.”

“But…but…why?”

“We knew they’d be concerned and want to know what was happening to you. They don’t seem at all worried, in fact they’re looking forward to meeting the real you.”

The ride to my grandparents was usually about an hour and a half, usually it was just boring, now it would be nerve-racking. I wish they had warned me. I had totally forgotten about the visit.

“Is Brian coming?” Sometimes he didn’t come with us.

“No, it’s just you and me.”

“Oh, Daddy, isn’t coming either?”

“No he’s taking Brian to a football match–a bit of boy-bonding,” she said and winked at me. “We’ll do some girl-bonding with Nan, instead.”

“Oh.” I didn’t know what I thought.

“Come on, sweetheart, we need to get you ready.”

I reluctantly went into the bathroom and under the shower, I stayed in there longer than usual conditioning my hair twice, while I tried to think of how I was going to handle this unforeseen situation.

I love my grandparents, they really are nice people, but they’re like fifty and so old. I mean did boys turn into girls in their day? Wouldn’t they have been burnt at the stake or locked up or something? I’ve heard about how they used to test for witches, when Gramps was a boy. They’d throw them in a pond all tied up, if they drowned they were innocent, gulp! If they floated, they got hanged or burnt! Surely, Gramps, wouldn’t do that to me, unless vicars still have to?

“Kylie, come out of there, you’ll be all wrinkly. I asked you to hurry and you’re dawdling.”

I crept out of the shower and wrapped in a towel, “Sorreee,” I said.

“I did ask you to hurry, what’s the problem?”

“I don’t want Gramps to burn me as a witch,” I said bursting into tears.

“What? What are you talking about you, silly goose?

“I heard they burn people who are different.”

“Where did you hear that?”

“In history,”

“They did some awful things hundreds of years ago, Sweetheart, not nowadays. If they did such things, do you think we have taken you to see Dr Schlessinger?”

“No, I suppose not. She was old, but Gramps is much older and it was vicars who burnt people at the stake or drowned them in the pond.”

“Kylie, my father is a very caring man, he wouldn’t hurt a fly let alone his granddaughter.”

“What if he doesn’t like me as a girl and calls me a queer or something?”

“He won’t, he loves you for you, it doesn’t matter if you’re a boy or a girl; he’ll still love you.”

“I hope so,” I dried my eyes on the towel.

“Trust me, please.” My mother threw her arms around me and hugged me. “Now come on, let’s dress to impress,” she said and patted me on the bum as I walked back to my bedroom.

She dried my hair as I sat with the towel still wrapped around my chest. “Right, now try not to destroy it when you put your dress on. Use some lip gloss and mascara, when you finish and have a squirt of this,” she handed me a bottle of Eau de toilette made by some frog called Givenchy or something.

I pulled on my knickers and bra, putting in the pads to give me some shape, then I carefully pulled the red dress over my head. My hair looked okay. I did my makeup and squirted some of the smelly stuff over myself. What with that and my roll on deodorant, I must smell like a florist’s shop.

I pulled the tights on and then my red shoes, the ones with the slightly higher heels. I checked myself in the mirror. I looked okay, if a little apprehensive. On the way out of my bedroom I ran into the troll.

“I’ll pay for the matches,” he said.

“What matches?” I asked.

“When Gramps burns you at the stake, argh, a witch!” he held his two index fingers in the shape of a cross and pretended to be afraid.

I felt my stomach turn over and my fears about meeting my grandparents resurfaced. They grew as I descended the stairs.

“My, but don’t you look nice,” my mother held out her arms to me.“ Your Nan and Gramps are going to be so proud of you.”

“Brian said Gramps would burn me at the stake and that he’d pay for the matches,” I sniffed.

“Did he now, I don’t know what he’ll use for money, because the way he’s heading he won’t have any. I think I’ll phone your Daddy and tell him, and I expect that’ll be the end of his football match.”

“Please don’t.”

“Why not, he deserves it?”

“It’ll just make things worse.”

“Maybe, but he has to learn.”

“It’ll just make him all the more beastly towards me.”

“I’ll strangle that horrible child, so help me!” She stormed out of the kitchen and I heard her shouting at him a few moments later. Then a pause and she returned followed by a sheepish looking Brian. “Go on, or so help me, I’ll call your father.”

He stared at the floor, “I’m sorry I teased you.”

“So you should be, you disgusting object. If I hear one more episode of this, you’ll be in so much hot water, you’ll come out boiled! Do you understand, mister?”

“Yes, Mum.”

“Get out of my sight!” she said loudly and he shot back upstairs as if he’d been kicked.

“I hope you didn’t tell Daddy.”

“No I haven’t, yet, but unless you eat some breakfast and get yourself ready for the ride to Nan and Gramps, I will.”

“I’m not very hungry,” I actually felt more like throwing up than pushing food down me.

“Kylie, please just calm down. We are going to have a lovely day and I’ll bet they spoil you rotten.”

I wondered if I could hide any matches I saw in their house.

Half an hour later, and we were getting into the car. I felt quite sick and hoped nothing would come of it. I strapped on the seat belt and tried to think of nice things, like looking after baby Sarah.

Mummy backed the car out of the drive and we were off. She put a talking book on the CD player and we listened to Stephen Fry read a Bertie Wooster story.

I was so engrossed in the story, that I wasn’t paying too much attention to the drive. Suddenly, it stopped and we were turning into the gravel driveway of St Peter’s Vicarage, the home of my grandparents.

“Ooh!” I gasped. Standing in the driveway were my grandparents, Gramps didn’t have his dog collar on, and he had his arm around my Nan. There was no escape.

“Just take a deep breath, it will be all right, okay?” Mummy squeezed my hand and then she got out of the car. She hugged Nan and then Gramps and I heard her say something ending in, “very nervous.” Then she came back to my side of the car. “Come on, Poppet, there’s nothing to worry about, honest.” She took my hand and practically dragged me out of the car.

“Hello, Kylie,” said my Nan and held out her arms.

I felt the tears well up, and ran to her. They were running down my face before she enveloped me in her arms, “You, silly goose, fancy being afraid of your old Nan.”

“I’m sorry,” I sobbed against her breast.

“Hey, Missy, don’t I get a hug, too?” complained my Gramps.

I finally let go of my Nan and went to him, “You look just like your mother, only prettier,” he said and engulfed me in a monster hug.

“Hoy,” said Mummy, “You told me I was the prettiest kid you’d ever seen.”

“That was before I met my granddaughter,” he said and we all laughed.

We went into the house, a big old Victorian pile with enough rooms to house a family of ten. Instead, there were just my grandparents and a curate who lodged with them.

Inside, my Nan had baked some scones and we ate them with jam and cream. They were yummy and I had three; boy, did I feel full after that.

“Where’s Danny?” asked my mother.

“Oh, he’s on a course this week,” answered Gramps, “Something about women bishops.”

“Does he approve?” asked Mummy.

“I don’t think he does, we have endless arguments about it,” said Gramps.

“Would you serve under a woman bishop, then?” continued Mummy.

“If she knew what she was doing and was as pretty as Kylie, I’d have no problem. I’d accept it as God’s will. Sadly, Danny, seems to be unable to see it that way. As you know, this diocese is very progressive, we have a woman dean and I wouldn’t be surprised to see a lady bishop here one day.”

“I think it would be a good thing,” said Nan.

“So, Kylie, how do you fancy being the first lady bishop in this diocese?” asked Gramps.

“I don’t think I want to wear black dresses all the time,” I said nervously.

“That’s alright, the bishop wears purple.”

“Oh, that’s different then, could I have matching shoes and bag?” I said trying to be amusing.

“Spoken like a true female, no wonder we men are always broke!” Gramps said and winked at me. Mummy and Nan just laughed politely.

“So what are you three beauties going to do this afternoon?” asked Gramps, “I have that wedding to do at three.”

“Will you marry me,” I asked my grandfather.

“I think I might be too old for you, and you’re not supposed to marry a close relative.”

I looked confused.

“I’m joking, girl, it’s the best offer I’ve had for a long time, and it is a leap year, but I’m already married to an old dragon.”

“I heard that, you daft old goat,” retorted Nan.

“No, Gramps, I mean if I wanted to get married, would you do the service thing?”

“I’d be mightily offended if you asked anyone else to do it. Why have you got someone in mind?”

I blushed, and said, “’Course not.”

“She has and his name’s Philip,” said Mummy.

“What does your father think of Philip?”

“I think he likes him, as long as he doesn’t kiss me too much.”

“I think he might be quite right there, young lady, you’re a bit on the young side for too much kissing and cuddling. Does this Philip know your little secret?” Nan decided to join the discussion.

I blushed and nodded.

“And he still likes to kiss you?” Gramps looked at Mummy when he was asking me this and out of the corner of my eye I saw her shrug her shoulders. I wasn’t quite sure what that meant.

“You just be careful, my girl,” Gramps had quite a serious expression on his face.

“I will, Gramps.”

We left him to play with his choristers or whatever vicars do while they wait for the wedding party, while we went off in our car to the shops. Inside, I knew that the novelty of getting lots of things couldn’t last much longer, my parents didn’t have that much money. My grandparents did, Gramps had his own business before he became a vicar, which he sold for loadsa money, according to my dad. I know he actually owns the vicarage, it isn’t a grace and favour residence, or whatever they call them.

Mummy parked her car in a multi-storey car park near the centre of town. It was nearly mid day, and normally I’d be grumbling about being hungry, but thanks to Nan’s, stick-to-yer-ribs scones, I still felt quite full.

The town doesn’t have a shopping mall, so what we usually do is go down one side of the high street and then back up the other, leaving no shop unturned. Again, usually I’d be bored by half way, today, I didn’t think that would happen.

Okay, I didn’t mind helping Mummy shop for clothes for her, however, stuff for Brian, Daddy or me–I wasn’t too keen on. Boy clothes were boring, jeans and a tee shirt or sweatshirt, if it was cold. Girl’s clothes–now I was beginning to get the hang of it–was good fun.

“I’m really looking forward to shopping with my granddaughter,” Nan said, smiling at me like a cat who’d got the cream.

“She even had Stuart buy her some stuff the other week, so watch out, she’s becoming quite a minx.” My mother said, possibly spoiling my fun.

“Rosemary, you must remember I had you to deal with, so I’m well versed in all the ruses of clothes hungry young women. So unless, she’s found some you didn’t try, I will cope with her.”

The goldfish gape my mother showed made me giggle, which Nan took up as well. Mummy did not look best pleased, although that was a ploy, because she giggled too.

Several of the chain stores have branches here, Next, Monsoon, Top Shop, Dorothy Perkins and we have a Primark as well as Marks and Spencer. Nan thought I needed more shoes. So I got shoes, a pair of black Mary Janes, and pair of boots which were kewl, although in my skinny legs they did ruck down a bit. When I complained about it, the assistant shook her head and said, “They’re supposed to, you wear them with hotpants or a short skirt.”

“Oh my giddy aunt!” exclaimed Nan, “Do you remember those hotpants you had, Rosemary?”

“Yes, Stuart, was rather fond of them.”

“I didn’t know Daddy wore hotpants?” I snorted.

“He didn’t, silly, he rather liked me to wear them.” Mummy gave me one of her looks, as if to say–one weirdo in the family is enough, thank you.

“Oh, I did think it was odd,” I said defensively.

“So is Kylie going to have hotpants or a miniskirt?” asked Nan.

“Yes please,” I said.

“I think you may be a little young for them,” my mother attempted to pour cold water on the idea.

“Gemma has some, and she’s my age,” I pleaded.

“Yes, why not?” said Nan.

“I think she’s too young, besides, she may have the wrong erm…body shape, for tight trousers,” countered my mother.

“Why don’t we go and try some and then we’ll know.” My grandmother was such a sensible woman. I now wanted the hotpants or miniskirt more than anything.

It was actually in New Look, that we found both items and I was sent off to try them on. I struggled into the hotpants and found that they made me very uncomfortable in the–I shouldn’t really have this bit! Whereas the mini was fine as long as I remembered to sit with my knees together. I decided, I’d probably be best wearing it with tights.

Mummy agreed that the hotpants were too tight, and gave me an--I told you so, look. She did reluctantly agree to the mini. Nan nodded approval and whisked it off to the cash desk before I could blink, while Mummy frowned, showing she didn’t really approve.

I was later to find out that Mummy only got her hotpants because her grandmother bought them for her, as her mother, my Nan, disapproved. It seems history goes full circle, or it does in my family.

Mummy bought me some lycra panties, three pairs, which should keep my outie as flat as an innie, making the miniskirt wearable. I popped on a pair as soon as I could, and with Nan’s connivance went back to try the hotpants again. This time they fit although they would never be comfortable enough to do too many bending exercises! This time we bought them.

We had skipped lunch so at the end of the first side of our shopping we stopped in a small café and had a sandwich and a cuppa. “Did you bring any money with you?” asked my mother.

“Erm, a few pounds, why?” I had deliberately left most of it behind even though I was relatively well off.

“Leave the girl alone, Rosemary; I’m sure we have enough between us,” interjected my Nan.

“Mum, she has quite a bit of money herself, I think if she wants these things, she should help to pay for them.”

“Erm, I’m saving it,” I said quietly.

“What for more computer games?" Said my mother quite aggressively.

“No, a boob job and the operation,” I said quite quietly again.

Unfortunately, Nan, was in mid swallow when I said this and she nearly choked herself. When she stopped coughing, she laughed so loudly, that everyone turned around to look at her.

“What’s so funny?” asked my mother, angrily.

“Kylie is, that’s what,” and she roared again.

“I don’t think it’s very funny, at all.” My mother was now in high dudgeon and I began to wish I’d kept my mouth shut.

“It’s what lots of girls my age are saving for, a boob job;” I said this in total innocence. My Nan roared again.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Kylie, eleven year olds do not want plastic surgery,” said my mother crossly.

“I’m afraid they do,” said a woman on an adjacent table, “my granddaughter is adamant she wants bigger breasts, she’s twelve now, but has been saying it for at least a year. Apparently, teen cosmetic surgery is big business in the States.”

“They carry guns there, and that’s wrong too. This celebrity cult stuff, with their silicone enhanced bodies is materialism gone stark staring mad.”

“I totally agree,” said the woman, “in our day, we had to make do with what nature gave us. Never did me any harm.”

“Nor me,” said Nan, “and Christopher was able to see my inner beauty.”

“Only because you used to wear a corset,” Mummy said and Nan blushed.

“Trust your children to betray your trade secrets,” Nan said, sighing.

~~~

Thanks to Gabi for express editing/improvements. Any mistakes left here are mine or Bonzi's. Yeah, probably Bonzi's, I'm perfect, so I suppose they couldn't really be mine!