Time for Dancing

This is the story of Penny. A closet Transwoman thrust into the outside world 24-7 when she would rather go and hide away. Perhaps the title should be Welcome to Penny’s Paranoid World…

From part fourteen
I took my tea into the sitting room and saw mother sleeping with a happy smile on her face. In the morning she will tell me she had a lovely dream. She dreamt Carol was here. When I tell her she is, she will be excited all over again. Henry comes and jumps up into my lap and settles down, purring. There is something nice about sitting here drinking my tea with a cat in my lap in just the warm glow of the night light.

And now as they say, read on…
I woke up early, although I guess it is about the normal time. It just seems early today. For some reason I think about staying in bed longer this morning. The chance of a lie in does not happen often, and it is almost always when Carol is here. I went to bed at eleven (early for me) and seeing as I only ever get to sleep for around five hours at night at most, even with the usually disruptions. A glance at the clock showed it was already gone five, so I have already had an hours lay-in as it is. It just does not feel like it.

On the other hand my back is aching like crazy and I want a buprenorphine tablet and I forgot to leave a foil of them on my bedside table last night. So if I want, I have to get up. Mother is quiet. A press of the tv button on the monitor showed she was still fast asleep, Fred held close, his face sticking up from under her favourite sky blue blanket.

Over on the other side of my bed Henry was lent against me stretched out to his full length. Front paws ahead of him, back legs stretched out behind him. A pair of half opened eyes watched me. Sure that he had my attention, he rolled onto his back and tried to reach me with his paws stretched as he continued to watch me up-side down for a while. The white fur on his tummy and jaw making me think of an up-side down crocodile for some reason. Then he rolled onto his side and curled up into a loose ball with a purr with his head still up-side down looking at me, and then fell asleep trying to keep his eyes open with the tip of his tongue stuck out the way it did when he was a kitten.

Obviously his tummy had not said breakfast time yet. I gently touched his tongue and it withdraw back inside. There was a quick purr and a further making himself comfortable and he was back asleep.

If only I could go to sleep like that. My aim at night is to try and have at least four hours of sleep and then try to have another hour spent dozing in the chair with a cup of tea after I have taken care of mother’s needs in the morning. Then usually around five in the afternoon I try and sit down and listen to ‘PM’ (an hour long news program before the six o’clock news,) on Radio Four. Except I often fall asleep during it, but the sleep is light enough so that if mother wants to go to the loo or is hungry, I will hear her.

No other sounds so Carol must still be asleep.

I get up and find Carol is already in the kitchen and putting the kettle on as I come in. I must have fallen back asleep. A glance at the kitchen clock shows it is five-forty. Yep, must have done.

“I heard you stirring. Knew you would get up. How is the back this morning?”

I grin, ‘So-so’, making a motion with my hand.

“Carrying Emily last night can’t have helped.”

“Yeah, well. She wouldn’t let John take her from me. She’s got a grip like a vice when she wants to.”

That got a raised eyebrow, but nothing was said.

“Toast.”

“Yes, why not.”

We always have hot butter toast first thing in the morning when Carol is here. I never do when she is not here. I tend to have cold buttered toast as a night time snack. Same goes for cornflakes. Strictly a just before bed-time food for me.

“So,” said Carol when we both had half eaten toast in our hands. “How long have you been living full time as a girl really? Clearly not just from last week, how you said on the phone. Last night your make-up was perfect and that adorable little girl knows who her mommy is. I‘ve had three kids, I know children and I am really, really jealous of you. I get three boys for all my hard work in the baby making department. One week and you have three girls demanding you are their mom.” My sister looked at me with fake disgust. “Look at you. Even now with your hair all tousled from bed and no make-up on you still look all girl.”

She pulled a face of exasperation. “And how the hell do you get to suddenly look that good and like you’re only in your thirties. I mean, you’re only three years younger than me. Damn it.”

Then added with a wry smile after a moment. “You sure you haven’t an aging painting hidden in the loft somewhere.”

I shrugged my shoulders. “I don’t know. You can always go up and take a look if you want.”

Then more seriously I continued. “I don’t know. I really don’t know. I guess it is something to do with my weirdly not having started puberty for thirty odd years after I should have done. They gave me a couple of rather painful injections in the backside to kick-start it. That’s why they want to open me up and check me out, inside. I guess.”

Carol’s face changed. I watched it drop. “I spoke to my doctor about that, and he spoke to others, specialists, for me. They said your case was really rare. I mean, really, really rare. Especially given your age. They all said they would want you in hospital petty damn quick to check you out. If you had been over there. They had all got back to my doctor to make sure you wasn’t in the US. Too whip you straight in.” She paused. “What did your doctors say?”

“I know it’s daft,” I said stopping to think. “But, I don’t really remember to be honest what Ann told me. I remember more her wanting me to go up to see someone else and finding that it was Alec Williams. I was surprised as I thought he was a bit full of himself at the Trish’s dinner party. He didn’t say what he did. I thought that he was maybe lower down the scale of things, their. It was a surprise to find he was the head of Psychiatry there and had been putting on a show at Trish’s to see how I reacted to them. I found him nice and caring. And then Malcom came in and said they had some more results back and that he wanted me to stay in overnight, but I told them that was just not possible and I would ask you if you could come over and look after mother. And then I could come in.”

I did not say anything about Malcom’s fear about possibly finding something cancerous in the male or female bits, and that was what was worrying him. I just felt if it had happened, it had happened. Either it was treatable, or not.

Or that I did not care which it was so long as Mother and Henry were taken care of. I did not think the being a girl thing however much I wanted it to happen, was going to survive. I was sure it would blow up in my face at some point and I would then lose everything I had gained.

Carol came up and held me. “Why didn’t you say? I would have been over the next day.”

I shrugged. This was getting more than I could emotionally handle at the moment. I was keeping it down by just not thinking about it. “You’re here, now.” I said. Was all I could say.

Carol seemed to realise, and changed the subject.

“So. How long have you had that good-looking widower drooling all over you, and how long have you really been playing mom to his kids?” she said that smiling, teasingly.

I laughed. “I don’t think he’s drooling.”

“Are you kidding me. He only had eyes for you, last night………” She whistled.

I have never heard my sister whistle before. I laughed. That frustrated her.

“Like I said. You can’t get a little girl to act like you’re her mom in just a week, Pa… sis.”

She covered slipping up and nearly calling me Paul. “Well she and her sisters, did. That’s all I can say. And their father didn’t bat an eyelid, either.”

Do I want to say I just happen to look like their dead mother? It sounds rather creepy when I think about explaining it.

She looks at me quizzically. “Are you sure this is all ok. Are You, ok? You only found out you’re a girl after a living a lifetime as a guy. And already you seem to have a family ready and waiting for you. What about the guy, he’s taking you dancing to night. Isn’t he.”
Another thought hit her. “And did he hold your hand when you were sitting on the sofa last night. I thought he did.”

Did he? I don’t remember that. But Carol must have thought she had seen something to make her think that. I realised she was still talking.

“…and what do you know about him. Do you know where he’s taking you? Is it safe for you there? What if he tries something? You did look hot last night. At the airport it completely threw me. Most men might think at your age, looking the way you do, that sex was on the cards afterwards.”

It was tumbling out of her. Her worries, her fears for my safety. It was hard to believe what was happening myself. All I knew was I felt a connection with the girls and especially with Emily. And while I was not sure about my feelings towards men and sex. I did feel something for John. I had from the start, just as I had for the girls. Men wise I found Cary Grant handsome and was Grace Kelly in my head when watching To Catch A Thief. But apart from that, nothing. I did find beautiful women attractive. Sultry blondes would be my weak point. They were very kissable. And I guess they are how I want to emulate in my own way of dressing. Problem is I can’t afford to hire two men to carry a fine mesh screen around in front of me to get the soft focus look of the old movies!

Carol had stopped talking and was looking at my boobs. I still had the fake ones stuck on.

“Have you had a boob Job?”

I shook my head grinning. “No, their fake. Want to see.”

“Please.”

She moved in close as I slipped the straps off my shoulders, baring my fake bosom to her intense gaze.

“Can I touch them?”

“Sure,” I nod. And fascinated, Carol tenderly touches them. Even though I cannot feel them, I know her fingers touch is feather light as she explores them. She cups them gently in her palms. A small smile on her face.

“I know they feel,” she glances up at me. “I mean the surface, I suppose their skin, feels like… I don’t know, soft plasticy?” She looks up again. “No, wrong word, but the weight, how they move, that all feels right.”

“Yeah, I know. But there not real. I can’t wear a top that shows cleavage. Unless I have a dark sheer top over them to hide the join. You can see they are fake, otherwise, if you can clearly see them.”

She nods, looking up at me again. Thinking. “What if they were real. I mean while you are at the hospital on Tuesday. Would they do a boob job at the same time?”

“A bit short notice. I don’t know.”

“Let’s ring that doctor you saw in the village and find out. I’ll pay. I can only stay two weeks. So we need to do it now so I can look after you. The first week is hell afterwards.”

“You’ve not had a boob job, have you?”

Carol laughs shaking her head. “No thanks. Although Carl wouldn’t complain.” Then. “What is it with American men and big boobs? It’s a national obsession.”

She shook her head again. “No, my friend Jill had hers done. She thought they were too big at first and had made a terrible mistake, but after the swelling went down. She wished she had gone for a size bigger.”

Carol bursts out giggling. “I don’t think she doesn’t have a dress that doesn’t show her cleavage off, now. But she claims her sex life has improved no end.”

Carol’s now laughing.

“Is anybody their?”

We both look and head for the sitting room saying the same thing. “Mother.”

I’m embarrassed. With my fake boobs peeled off I feel even more naked than I did at the hospital, though I am only topless. Malcom is examining my chest. Ann did the check-up last time at the hospital. I tell myself I am being stupid, but Malcom being a man makes it feel more embarrassing.

“Ok, you can put your top on, Penny.” He tells me in his soft Scottish burr. “Are you sure you don’t want to wait until you can see what effect the hormones have on your body? You could end up with bigger breasts than you want.”

We talk about it. Carol adds she has to go back to New Hampshire in a fortnight and that I am not going to change my mind on being a woman, and she can look after me and mother for that first painful week, at least. And doing it at the same time as the exploratory op, would make one less operation to have later on.

Malcom after talking to Ann and the hospital on the phone, agrees. But I have to go to the hospital a day early. Monday afternoon just after lunch so Ann can check me over and help me decide on the size of the implants. She will do the breast augmentation while Malcom is doing the exploratory.

I could tell Carol had more questions, but she held them back saying no more about it. She would come back to them later. When she is here she takes over looking after mother. Mind you letting her do that I find incredibly difficult to do. It is hard to just stop doing what you automatically do the rest of the time.

Carol has suggested in the past I take myself off for a few days to rest and relax. I did try doing that, but found just as I was starting to relax, it was time to head back home again. Three or five days do not really work. You need longer, and I do not have that amount of time if I want to see my sister as well. And when she use to ask me what I wanted to go and do, my mind was a blank, anyway.

I know Carol is watching me when she can with a little smile on her lips. Sort of funny really as when I did finally go away. I went up to Lancashire to see Suki, a make-up artist who did make overs for transsexuals and her friend Jasmine pierced my ears for me in her salon. When I got back Carol did her nut when she saw my pierced ears. She says she likes having a big brother. Even if I am really three years younger than her.

In the afternoon Evie calls to tell me Emily is fretting about her dress for tonight and will it match what I am wearing. She wants to bring it down so I wear a dress that matches hers. Evie asks if that is ok, as Em is just getting more and more worked up about it.

We spend the next hour and a half with Em buried deep in my wardrobe thoroughly enjoying herself. From first sight I know the dress I will be wearing. It is the one I planned to wear anyway. Evie must have made it for Em this week as it is a near perfect copy of my 1960s Yellow Biba mini-dress. The one I wore to the beach hut last week. So that is my dress for tonight. Luckily it is not one that ends an inch under my bum. I can wear stocking for that early sixties look with my four inch heel sling-backs. Ok, for early sixties they should be low heels. I do have some yellow two inch high sling-backs as well, but they hurt my ankles. I cannot wear low heels for some reason. They make my ankles ache.

I have asked Carol if she wants to come over this evening, and l’ll pop back to sit with mother, but she is quite happy to let my feet do the dancing, not hers. And to be honest, I did not expect her to want too, but had to ask just in case. Mind you Carol will still hear the music with the Village Hall just about opposite us, as it is just a bit over to the left opposite Clair’s house.

With I guess maybe less than half an hour to go, I have a tummy full of butterflies fluttering around there, I am sitting trying to decide when I should go over. I do not want to go too early and be there before Evie and Em and the boys arrive. It would be awkward if someone asks me to dance. So maybe I should wait. Evie will ring to say they are there and where I am. My thoughts are stopped by the phone ringing.

“Hello.”

“Hello Mummy, we’ll be with you in a minute. We’re in the car now.”

“It’s ok, sweetie. The village hall is just across the lane from me. I’ll meet you there.”

“Nooo, mummy. It’s important. We must be together.”

It is clearly important to Emily that we go in together. So. “Ok, Emily. I’ll wait for you.”

“Were here!” is her triumphant reply.

“Ok, I’ll come on out. See you in a moment.” I say trying not to laugh.

“Nooo, mummy. It’s important. Daddy has to come and get you. You have to wait for him.”

“Well. There is a knock on the door. I wonder who that can be?”

“Yesss.”

Carol has heard all this and is grinning her head off. Trying not to laugh. I give her the phone. She takes it, nodding at the door “I believe that’s for you.”

I laugh, “Yes, I think so too. See you later, sis.” And go and open the door to see a bemused John standing there.

“I believe a young lady has given you your orders, kind sir.”

“Yes, indeed she has.” He says turning and offering me his arm.

Which I slip my arm in and am escorted down to his Tesla. He opens the back door driver’s side for me and I get in. Emily is in the middle with Evie over by the other door. Johnny’s in the front passenger seat and turns round to greet me. Em is fit to explode and giggles excitedly grabbing and hugging my arm as I put my seat belt on. John closes my door for me.

“Hi Evie, Johnny. Hello little miss. You look very nice tonight, young lady. That is a beautiful tiara you have on your hair.” I bend round studying her face closely. “And do I detect you have some make-up on too?”

This causes Em to break into a fit of more giggles while nodding her head.

Evie smiles at me. “Hello Penny, you look especially radiant tonight”.

“Thank-you, Evie. So do you.”

With John back behind the wheel, we pull away going further down the village, away from the village hall. Past the stone arch on the left that is The Hall’s side entrance with its eight foot high solid wooden gates that have not been closed in years. In fact I have never seen them closed. The arch has a stone lioness lying on top of it casually licking her paw with her tail curled round her body. It fascinates me. I have always wanted to go up on a ladder and get a closer look at her. She always makes me smile and want to stroke her. I am sure it was the lady of the house who had her put up there.

We turn left onto Back Lane. The Hall has an eight foot high stone wall around its grounds. It keeps us company on our left until a break of two tall stone pillars mark the main entrance to the Hall’s drive. Last summer when I pushed mother round Back lane the tall iron gates had a chain and padlock on them locking them closed. For as long as I can remember they have always been left open like the side entrance. A quick glance as we past showed they were still padlocked closed. The lane keeps curving round to the left. Past the entrance to Jill and Nigel Brown’s Back Beck Farm on the right. They were at Evie’s dinner party last week.

Even the Hall’s working entrance to its apple orchard had a stone arch, all be it a very plain since it is just for the workers in the past. It has one very battered wooden gate that is normally left closed.

We keep on going round to the left until we reached the village green where Back Lane splits into two to form two sides of the triangle that is the village green. The final side being Village Lane that goes from the junction with the Mid-Steeping/Great Steeping road. All the way down past the village hall and my place, past Back Lane turn-off until it veers hard left to pass the church and vicarage on its right and then it’s the ford across the river Beck to end just around the corner at the locked gate to the farm track in the field beyond.

In the middle of the village green is our medieval church cross, the top of which is long gone. It has a stepped base four worn steps high. We keep left passing it on the right to head back down to the village hall. With the stone cross being just a stone pillar now. Every time I see it. I think of Kim Basinger in Sean Connery’s last Bond film being auctioned off to the Bedouin in her underwear by her baddy husband for getting passionate with old man Bond. Except in my mind she is naked and has her hands chained up above her head, and is being ravished by another beautiful blonde. That being, Me – if I ever end up marrying John, those fantasy’s will have to stay firmly locked away never to happen!

We pass Apple Tree Farm, Evie and Johnny’s farm. Then moments later we are over the hidden little bridge and around the corner and turning in and heading to the carpark behind the village hall. As we walk to the hall, a happy Em makes sure she has a firm grip on one of my hands, with her Father’s hand in her other hand. With Evie and Johnny behind us. This is the first time I have been here outside of coming to vote at general elections or local Parish Council elections. I have never been to a village dance before, or one of the pig roasts.

As we enter, Sonny and Cher’s classic is belting out of the sound system. I see everybody has made an effort to dress sixties style. Well, the girls anyway.

“…Well I don't know if all that's true
'Cause you got me, and baby, I got you

Baby, I got you babe, I got you, babe

They say our love won't pay the rent
Before it's earned our money's always spent…”

Before we are six feet in, one of John’s friends greets us. One hand holding a half full plastic pint glass and his other wrapped around a pretty girl’s waist, several months pregnant with her bump stating to show.

“Hey, John. See you’re treating the old lady, tonight, for once.” He grins at me. “Hi darling. He keep you chained to the kitchen sink, does he. We never see you in the ‘Waggon’. This here is Sherry. She’s got a bun in the oven, too.” Then realising he may have made a gaff. “Not that you have one in the oven at the moment. You’re a slim thing. But you’ve already been practising in that department.” Then adds cheerfully smiling at Emily and looking back up to me. “But you might get lucky with the old devil tonight and have another.”

“No thank-you.” I tell him grinning. “Three is enough.” Hell. Why did I say that.

Sherry shakes her head and mouths ‘Sorry’ to me. I shake my head to say, it’s ok. And she hauls him off slightly staggering to sit down at the back of the hall.

“Sorry, about that.” John tells me, then turns to Johnny. “Shall we get the girls a drink, dad.” And then back to me. “What would you like Penny?”

“Just a Coca-Cola, no alcohol, thanks.” I tell him.

“And what would you like, young lady.” He says bending down to Em.

“Fizzy orange, please, daddy. And can I have some crisps.” She adds hopefully.

With that off they go to the temporary bar set up by the Waggon & Horses Landlord near the kitchen door, where burgers, hot-dogs and sausage rolls will be sold later on. We find three empty chairs along the side and sit down.

Evie tells me, grinning. “Notice how you were asked what you wanted to drink. Johnny just assumes what I want.”

I laugh saying. “That’s marriage for you.”

“Ha, you wait, girl.” Evie says laughing. “Till John does the same to you.”

I just shrug, grinning. I can’t say anything with Emily here.

“…I got you to walk with me, I got you to talk with
I got you to kiss goodnight, I got you to hold me tight
I got you I won't let go, I got you to loves me so…”

The boys arrive back with the drinks on a tray as the DJ mixes seamlessly to the next song.

“…There she was just walkin' down the street
Singin', "Do wah diddy, diddy, dum diddy do"
Snappin' her fingers and shufflin' her feet
Singin', "Do wah diddy diddy, dum diddy do…”

“Come on, Em.”

I take Emily’s hand, and lead her to the edge of the dancing throng a couple of feet from Evie and the boys, and start to do my sixties version of dancing on the spot. Courtesy of watching the dvd of A Hard Days Night far too many times. Em enthusiastically joins in copying me. We even do a little bit of twisting when The Peppermint Twist started playing.

“…Well, you like it like this, the Peppermint Twist
It goes round and round, up and down
Round and round, up and down…”

Which mixes into Sugar Pie Honey Bunch.

"I can't help myself
No I can help myself
Sugar pie honey bunch…”

Then as it ends.

“…Ding-Ding (ships bell), Radio Caroline on 199 your all day music station, Ding-Ding, ”

Every now and again between the records the DJ is playing old Radio Caroline jingles from the Pirate radio station. I smile as I use to have a poster of the MV Mi Amigo, the ship that Radio Caroline use to transmit from off the Essex coast on my wardrobe.

“…Hey! Mr. tambourine man, play a song for me
I'm not sleepy and there ain't no place I'm going to
Hey! Mr. tambourine man, play a song for me
In the jingle jangle morning, I'll come followin' you…”

Three or four songs later I am pooped, and we go back to the others. Except of course we have only three chairs and we are four adults and one junior miss. The drinks are on the middle chair with Evie sitting on Johnny’s lap. Evie grins mischievously at me and calls to Em to come sit beside her on the middle chair as she takes the tray off it. I look daggers at Evie, while she smiles sweetly back at me as Em sits down. I could have sat there and Em sat on my lap.

Now I am left standing like an idiot next to the man the boys are deep in conversation with. He has to be a farmer, because despite not being in his work wear of ancient flat cap, battered jacket with torn top pocket over tatty overalls. Farmers just have a way of looking like farmers somehow, however they are dressed.

There are three farms in the village. Evie and Johnny’s Apple Tree Farm being the biggest with the best boy toys on it, then there is Jill and Nigel Brown’s Back Beck Farm on Back Lane. And at the top of the village is Field Farm. Don’t know who lives there now. The last lot, a pair of former hippies, got hauled off by the fuzz for growing cannabis in its big barn. They are currently guests of Her Majesty’s Prisons. So I guess this is the new guy.

I look frustrated back at Evie who continues to look sweetly back at me as I stand there looking like an idiot. John suddenly realises I am left standing and puts his pint down and smiling at me, closes his legs together and motions me to sit on his lap.

Heart thumping, I smile nervously and sit down as if his pants are on fire. He puts a protective arm around my waist while retrieving his pint from the floor, and carries on talking to the mystery man..

After Em has had a drink from her fizzy orange. I hold onto it while she has her packet of smoky bacon crisps John brought back for her. Only to get a little dig in the ribs from John, I look up to see the man is speaking to me. He is smiling and I just catch just the end of what he is saying.

“…well, I’ll let you enjoy the dance, Mrs Farmer.”

I smile back and nod my head and that seems the right thing to do as he smiles back and leaves us. My mind is still thinking, what is, John thinking about all this. Emily has clearly called me Mum while phoning me from the car. He must have heard her. And now this man thinks I am John’s wife. And I am sitting on his lap as if I was his wife. And he has not said a thing about it. Maybe he is going to wait until Em is in bed and then ask me ‘What the Hell, do I think I am playing at!’

Later on, we are dancing. I mean proper dancing, close-up together holding hands dancing. My right one in his left one, my left hand on his shoulder. His right hand burning a hole through my dress in my back. Doris Day is providing the reason for getting up close together and hanging on to each other.

"…I yearn to be kissed
(Move over darling)
How can I resist
(Move over darling)
You captured my heart and now that I’m no longer free
Make love to me…"

You keep quite Doris. I’m in enough trouble as it is, without giving him ideas. I wish Carol had not said to me what she said earlier. I do hope he is not listening to the words, or my beating heart hammering away.

Evie and I are talking with Zoey MacTavish. Like me, Zoey has a tired child on her lap. In her case her six year old daughter, April. Me, Em. Both are desperately trying to stay awake and failing. Evie signals to Johnny and John over at the bar, the time, and they come over. It is nine-thirty and way past both little girl’s bed-time. We say good-night to Zoey and April and head out of the Village Hall for the Tesla. When we get there. As John un-locks the doors, Johnny takes Em, telling me.

“You get in front, love. I’ll take her.” He takes Em’s arms from around my neck and she sleepily swaps body’s holding her as he quietly says, “Come here, sausage.”

He eases himself into the back seat holding her to sit beside Evie. I close the door and get in the front forgetting I only live across the road. At Apple Tree Farm, Evie leans forward putting a hand on my arm, stopping me from opening my door to get out.

“It’s ok, Penny. We’ll pop her to bed. You two go off and have something to eat. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Before I can do or say anything. They are both out and John has the Tesla turned in a tight circle and back out onto Village Lane and heading up to the main road.

“You hungry?”

“Um, yes.” I say, unsure of what is happening.

“That’s good, I’ve got a table booked for us at the Station Arms.”

To be continued…