At Aunt Greta’s–
Reactions
by Gabi
Chapter 20 of a Continuing Saga…

At the end of the previous chapter Bryony was in hospital explaining to her friends in the “Bryony Buddy Corps” about her true gender status, and that she had to see a specialist before she could return home.

Now Aunt Greta’s niece continues the story…

‘Does that mean you’re going to miss a lot of school, Bryony?’ Kristal asked.

‘I hope not,’ came the reply. ‘I think they only want me here for another day or so, then I can go home and, hopefully, back to school.’

‘But what about your drain-tube?’ I queried.

‘I wondered that too,’ Bryony admitted, ‘but when I asked they said it could drip into a normal sanitary pad inside my knickers.’

‘Eeeewww! Gross!’ said Juniper, pulling a face.

‘Come off it, Junip,’ Angela replied. ‘It’s not really any different or more disgusting than when we’re on our periods, is it?’

‘S’pose not,’ Juniper admitted grudgingly, ‘if you put it like that.’

‘Anyway, cuz,’ Penny asked Bryony, ‘how are the tummy cramps? They can be awful.’

‘Horrible, but better as soon as they gave me a pain-killer pill–and a hot water bottle on my tummy helped a lot, too.’

‘I found that, too,’ I said, ‘the hot water bottle thingy, I mean. So d’you know when you’re coming back to school?’

‘Well, not tomorrow, for sure,’ came the reply. ‘Maybe later in the week. I don’t really know as so much depends on what the doctor has to say tomorrow.’

‘Will you come as Bryan or Bryony?’ Lacey asked.

‘I’d prefer to come as Bryony, but Mummy says we’ll have to speak to the headmistress first ’coz we don’t want to cause the school too many problems.’

‘I’m sure she’ll be all right,’ Kristal surmised. ‘Miss Morgan’s a pussy-cat really.’

‘Is that why some people call her Moggy?’ Lacey asked innocently. ‘I always thought it was ’coz her name’s Miss Morgan.’

‘Doh!’ Juniper said, raising her eyes heavenwards. ‘Of course it’s because she’s called Miss Morgan, dumbo!’ Poor Lacey turned bright pink at this uncharacteristic outburst from her best friend.

‘There’s no need to be like that about it, Juniper, I have an uncle in Ceredigion who has a Morgan sports car that he calls his “Moggy”,’ Angela riposted. ‘Are you on?’

‘Not yet, but I know it’s overdue when I start being mean, even to my bessimates.’

‘So, Bryony, you know what to expect from now on,’ Kristal said with a grimace. ‘The curse is the one thing about being a girl that really sucks.’

‘Nora’s lucky,’ Farah added, ‘’Coz she was born a boy she won’t ever have a monthly visitor.’

‘But being born a boy would suck even more than having visits from Mrs Moon,’ Angela declared. ‘I still find it hard to understand why you pretended to be a boy for all that time, Gabs.’

‘I suppose I was just a wee bit of a tomboy,’ I admitted with a giggle, ‘but I’ve discovered that being a proper girl is like, sooooo much more fun.’

‘A WEE bit of a tomboy? I’ll say,’ exclaimed Angela. ‘You couldn’t have been more boyish if you tried–out of school you always looked scruffy–those jeans you used to wear were sooooo grungy that they could have walked from Lands End to John O’Groats all by themselves, and as for your old trainers–Eeeewww. I couldn’t have borne to put my feet anywhere near them, let alone wear them without socks like you did.’

I saw Penny looking horrified; ‘Don’t worry, Penny, they weren’t half as bad as Angie says. She’s my best friend and is always teasing me about them. You’ll all be pleased to hear that my late-lamented jeans and trainers are no more. They went into the dustbin last week.’

‘They should have been burnt,’ Juniper said, ‘especially if they were as disgusting as Angela said.’

‘Auntie G did suggest it,’ I replied, ‘but I told her I thought burning them would pollute the atmosphere too much–global warming or something.’

‘Eeeewww!’ squealed Lacey, to be joined by Kristal, Penny and Bryony, all holding their noses, just as Mrs Farthing came to see how we were getting on.

‘Oh,’ she said, ‘has someone made a smell?’

‘Mum-meeeee!’ squealed Penny. ‘You know nice, polite girls like us don’t let off!’

‘Well, it was just the way you were all holding your noses that made me wonder.’

‘That was my fault, Mrs Farthing,’ Angela admitted. ‘It was something I said which caused them to do it.’

‘We were imagining the disgusting smell given off by a boy’s grungy jeans and trainers being burnt,’ I added.

‘So, has Bryony imparted her big secret?’ asked Mrs Farthing.

‘Yes,’ Penny replied. ‘Isn’t it great? Haven’t I always said that she was more girl than boy? Well, now I’m proved to be right we’ll be even more like twins.’

‘Do you know what is happening to Bryony next, Mrs Farthing?’ Lacey asked.

‘And when?’ Juniper added.

‘None of us will know anything until tomorrow at the earliest after Professor Cunnimacher–the surgeon–has examined her,’ Bryony’s aunt replied.

‘Are you excited, Bryony?’ asked Juniper.

‘I’m looking forward to being a proper girl,’ came the reply; ‘but I’m a bit scared of having an operation. Do you know what he is likely to do, Auntie Bren?’

‘I have no idea, but Sister Chambers might know something.’

‘Sister Chambers?’ queried Bryony looking puzzled.

‘Did you want something, poppet?’ my mum asked, coming into the room.

‘Oh, hi, Auntie Peggy.’ Bryony said. ‘I was wondering what sort of operation it would be when I was going to have it?’

‘The operation’s called a Labiaplasty and when it will be depends on Prof. Cunnimacher’s list,’ Mummy replied, ‘but it could be as early as the week after next.’

‘I wish there was some way of getting rid of my winkle without having an operation,’ Bryony remarked, longingly.

‘Maybe if you tried Anti-winkle cream?’ Mummy suggested, and the rest of us giggled.

‘Will she be staying in hospital till then?’ I asked.

‘Goodness, no,’ Mummy replied. ‘We can’t have young ladies clogging up valuable beds in my nice tidy Gynae ward.’

‘Oh, wow! Bryony,’ I exclaimed. ‘Would you like to come to my birthday sleepover, err–slumber party on Friday?’

‘What’s this?’ Mummy asked. ‘A sleepover?’

‘Auntie Greta says I can have a slumber party for my birthday; if Bryony can come it will be seven of us.’

‘Sorry, Gaby, but Lacey and I can’t make it,’ Juniper said. ‘We’re spending the weekend in London.’

‘Oh, it won’t be the same without you two. Are you sure you can’t make it?’

‘’Fraid so,’ Lacey replied. ‘It was arranged during the summer hols.’

‘Well, next time. Would you like to come, Penny?’ I asked.

She looked pleadingly at her mother; ‘May I, Mummy? Pleeeeee-ease?

‘I don’t see why not–if you are very, VERY good,’ came the reply. ‘And you can keep an eye on your cousin–if she’s allowed to go.’

‘I’m sure Auntie Hel will let her go,’ Penny surmised.

‘I think she might,’ replied Mrs Farthing, ‘but we don’t know if Bryony’ll be well enough. For all we know she might still be in hospital.’

‘I hope not,’ Bryony remarked. ‘Where is Mummy?’

‘She went to the loo,’ Mrs Farthing replied. ‘She’ll be back in a minute or two.’

Penny turned to Farah and asked; ‘So, how do you like being in England?’

‘Well, it’s great so far,’ Farah replied.

‘What about school–is it the same as in America?’ Penny asked.

‘Some things are. I find some of the lessons quite hard because you do things a bit different over here. It was sooo hard not to giggle when I discovered that our homeroom teacher is called Miss Tickell and that her given name is Tess.’

‘Homeroom?’ Penny queried.

‘Oh yeah, sorry,’ said Farah, ‘homeroom is what we have back home in the States. I guess I should’ve said “class” teacher.’

‘You’ll have to tell your friends back home about the mystical testicle,’ Kristal said, making us all giggle.

‘I don’t think they’ll ever believe it,’ Farah replied, grinning. ‘They’ll probably think it’s the name of the leader of some strange religious cult.’

We carried on chatting for a while, until my mum came and said we had to go because the doctors were about to start their rounds, so we all hugged Bryony goodbye and followed Penny’s mum out to the car park.

* * *

Mrs Farthing dropped off Farah and I at Auntie G’s and drove away with the others to drop them at their respective homes before heading back to Great Shaghorn because Penny had to go to school tomorrow, like we did.

I was searching in my handbag for my latch-key when Auntie G opened the door. ‘Hello, girls. When I saw Mrs Farthing dropping you off, I thought I’d come and let you in, knowing that you aren’t used to finding things in your handbag yet, Gabs. So how was Bryony?’

‘She’s soooo happy that she’s a real girl with all the proper girly bits inside,’ I replied. ‘She’s even quite pleased that she’s having her first period ’cause that’s what led to them discovering that she really is a girl.’

‘She said the surgeon’s going to see her tomorrow,’ Farah added.

‘Yes,’ Auntie replied, ‘her mummy told me Prof. Cunnimacher was going to examine her; so that’s tomorrow, is it? Hopefully he’ll be able to operate on her quite soon.’

‘Hey, Gabs, we’ve got our English homework for Miss Gnomer to finish tonight,’ Farah reminded me. ‘Have you decided what you’re going to write your essay on?’

‘Gosh, thanks for reminding me; I‘d completely forgotten about it. The Gnome would probably fall off her toadstool if we turned up to her English lesson tomorrow without our essays.’

‘Poor Miss Gnomer,” Auntie G remarked. ‘You girls seem to have no respect for your teachers.’

‘The Gnome’s nice and a really good teacher, it’s just that she has a weird name, has beady eyes and looks like she should be sitting on a toadstool. We all love her to bits. Have you decided what you’re going to write about, Farah?’

‘I thought I’d write about the differences of living here compared with the U.S.A.’ she replied. ‘Things like how you crazy Brits drive on the wrong side of the road and the weird names you call things.’

‘That sounds like a good idea,’ I said. ‘I think I’ll write about visiting a friend in hospital.’

‘Why don’t the two of you start your essays while I get some tea for us all,’ Auntie Greta told us. ‘While you were out I made a batch of fairy cakes, and there’s a fresh packet of crumpets I can toast.’

Ooh yummy,’ I said. ‘Your fairy cakes are the best. Would you like us to help you?’

‘I’d rather the two of you got your prep done. I’ll have tea ready in half-an-hour or so and will bring it in to you when it’s ready so you can keep working.’

‘Wow, thanks, Auntie,’ I replied, ‘You’re soooo kewl.’

‘Am I, indeed? Well, just don’t say I don’t spoil you.’

We had left our prep in the dining room before we set out for the hospital, so after a quick trip to the loo we settled down to write our masterpieces–or should that be MISTRESSpieces?

When Auntie brought tea to us, I was nearly half-way through my essay which was going well. “Here you are, girls,’ she said, ‘don’t let your crumpets get cold. There’s nothing worse than a cold crumpet. There’s a jar of my raspberry jam if you want it and I’ve given you two fairy cakes each. Will that be enough?

‘Sure,’ Farah replied, moving some books aside so Auntie could put down the tray.

‘If you want more, just come and ask,’ Auntie said. ‘By the way, as we had such a heavy lunch, we’re just having soup for supper tonight.’

‘Your home-made?’ I asked.

‘Of course,’ came the reply; ‘I had some good chicken stock from boiling up the remains of the chicken carcase and have added plenty of fresh veggies, so you’ll get more than your 5-a-day today.’

‘Sounds great,’ Farah said.

‘Good. I’ll leave you to get on with things,’ Auntie replied and left us.

* * *

The alarm clock wakened us at ten to seven. We had had an undisturbed night without any forays into the past, thank goodness. Farah went to use the loo and shower first as I was still on, but there was hardly any blood now and my tummy cramps had gone–something else to thank goodness for. We helped each other dry our hair, finished dressing in our school uniforms and went downstairs to breakfast. The smell of grilling bacon assailed our nostrils so we knew that Auntie was hard at it.

‘Good morning, my dears,’ she said cheerfully. ‘Did you sleep well?’

‘Very well,’ Farah replied.

‘And no midnight excursions back to war-time, thank goodness,’ I added. ‘Don’t forget we’re walking to school today, ’cause Farah’s dad and mum are still away ’til lunchtime. We’ve arranged to meet Angela and Kristal on the way and walk together.’

‘Daddy’s gonna collect us after school as usual,’ Farah added. ‘Mmmm, that bacon smells real good.’

‘There’s corn flakes and coco-pops if you’d like them, so help yourselves,’ Auntie said, ‘and there’s milk in the fridge. I know I don’t have to ask Gabs, but would you like a fried egg with your bacon, Farah?’

‘Please. Sunny side up.’

‘You can’t catch me out with that one, young lady,’ Auntie replied. ‘Freya explained all that to me when I was your age, although I can’t remember if the other was easy over or over easy. And how many rashers of bacon would you like?’

‘Rashers? Farah queried, looking puzzled.

‘Oh, err–’ Auntie pondered for a few seconds, frowning, ‘You know, slices.’

‘May I have two, please?’ Farah replied, pouring coco-pops into her cereal bowl. ‘In the States, we call them strips. I wish I’d known that yesterday, I could have put it in my essay for Miss Gnomer.’

‘Couldn’t you add it before you hand it in?’ Auntie asked.

‘When’s our English lesson, Gabs?’

‘Second period,’ I replied.

‘There won’t be time then; I’d have to write the whole thing out again. Ah well, never mind. I can store it away for future reference.’

‘It would be easy if we were allowed to write our English essays on a computer,’ I said, ‘But Miss Gnomer insists they have to be in our “best handwriting”.’

‘We always had to hand-write everything, and we didn’t have Biros when I was your age, most of us had to use dip-pens–which one had to dip in a bottle off ink or an inkwell every few seconds–or a fountain pen if you were lucky.’

‘You had a fountain pen, didn’t you Auntie?’ I said. ‘Remember how I made a horrid smudge when I wrote that essay for you on my first trip back to 1944? 1 I got you into trouble with Miss De’Ath for that.’

‘Miss Who?’ Farah asked.

‘Miss De’Ath, dear,’ Auntie G replied. ‘Spelled D-E-apostrophe-A-T-H. She was our form mistress.

‘Oh, Miss Death!’ Farah giggled. ‘Oh my gosh, that’s even worse than Miss Tickell. I still can’t get over her being called Tess by the other teachers. I wrote and told Emma, my cousin over in the States about her, but I haven’t heard back from her yet. I bet she’ll giggle so much she’ll pee her panties; it wouldn’t be the first time.’

‘You used to call Miss De’Ath The Grim Reaper, didn’t you, Auntie? Did you tell Emma that there’s a girl in our class called Kristal Ball, Farah?’

‘Nah, she already thinks you Brits are the zaniest folks ever, so I thought I save it for another time–’ she giggled and added with a grin, ‘–for the sake of her panties.’

‘Now, girls,’ Auntie said, trying not to giggle, ‘back to matters in hand. Do either of you want anything else to eat? Another cup of coffee, Farah? More toast?’

‘No, thank you, Auntie G,’ Farah replied.

‘No, thank you, Auntie,’ I echoed. ‘We ought to leave in a couple of minutes ’cause we are walking today.’

‘Have you got everything you need in your backpacks?’ Auntie asked.

‘Yeah, we checked them last night after we’d finished our homework,’ I replied.

‘I brushed both your blazers for you,’ Auntie told us.

‘Thank you, Auntie G,’ Farah said.

‘Yes, thanks, Auntie.’

* * *

We discovered that Angela was waiting for us when we arrived at 69 Letsbeigh Avenue, so after greetings all round we were able to set off to Kristal’s house straight away. It was only a few minutes walk to Kristal’s, so Angela took her mobile from her blazer pocket and texted to say we were on our way. I hoped I was going to be given a mobile for my birthday on Friday.

Kristal was waiting by her front gate, so after another round of hugs and saying ‘Hi!’ we set off once again.

‘I wonder if Moggy will say anything about Bryony in assembly today?’ Angela asked when we had walked less than ten metres.

‘She might,’ I said.

‘But then again,’ Kristal added, ‘she might not.’

‘Will Ms Tickell know?’ Farah asked.

‘She’s certain to,’ I replied; ‘Miss Morgan’s bound to have told her.’ We went on to discuss our visit to Bryony in hospital and soon were joined by Lacey and Juniper. As we approached the school I noticed a couple of the boys who used to hang out with my báªte noir, Kenneth Quinn.

‘I wonder if Quinn and his mates will be back at school today?’ I said. ‘I hope not.’

‘Well, Kevin’s still grounded,’ Kristal replied, ‘and under pain of death if he so much as mention’s Quinn’s name. I’d be happy if I was never to see that great oaf again, particularly after what he did to you, Gabs.’ Farah took my hand and gave it a squeeze.

‘Me too,’ added Angela.

‘And me,’ offered Lacey and Juniper in unison.

‘I think they should exclude him permanently,’ Angela remarked as we walked in through the school gates.

‘Who’s that, Angie,’ asked Tanya Hyde, another of our classmates.

‘Quinn,’ I replied for Angela.

‘I agree, after what he did to you, Gaby,’ Tanya said.

We left our blazers in our changing room on the way to our classroom, where the usual chaos ruled until Miss Tickell arrived and we all hurried to our places for registration.

‘Good morning, everybody,’ Miss Tickell said cheerfully. ‘I hope you all had a restful weekend so you can work all the harder this week.’

‘Good morning, Miss Tickell,’ we chanted in unison–although I was certain I heard one of the boys mumble ‘Tess,’ instead of ‘Miss.’

‘Sit down, everyone and I’ll check if we’re all here. Ivan Arden?’

‘Here, Miss Tickell,’ Ivan replied.

‘Philip Atlee?’

‘Here, Miss Tickell.’

‘Kristal Ball?’

‘Present, Miss Tickell.’

She continued until after Walter Pratt had replied, ‘Here, Miss Tickell,’ and then she called. ‘Bryan Rose?’

I looked at Farah, and she looked at me and I was just about to put my hand up to speak when Lacey blurted out, ‘She’s in hospital, Miss Tickell.’ Any background hubbub ceased instantly.

‘Don’t you mean HE is in Hospital, Lacey?’

‘No, Miss Tickell,’ insisted Lacey. ‘We visited her in hospital yesterday and she’s definitely a girl.’

A collective gasp arose from the rest of the class.

‘I’ve never heard anything so ridiculous in my life, girl,’ Miss Tickell retorted, crossly. ‘How can Bryan Rose possibly be a girl?’

I put my hand up and caught our teacher’s eye.

‘Yes, Gaby?’

‘Bryony was taken ill on Saturday and her doctor thought it was a kidney problem so she was rushed straight into hospital. I think if you check with Miss Morgan she will confirm what Lacey said. Six of us were allowed to visit her yesterday–she’s in my mother’s Gynaecology ward–and Bryony told us the news herself.’

‘Mrs Moon was visiting her,’ Lacey blurted, and most of the girls gasped while the boys looked bewildered.

Miss Tickell, looking horrified, sat down behind her desk. ‘I’m afraid I was a little late arriving this morning and didn’t have time to go to the staff common room. I’ll just finish taking the register and go and check with Miss Morgan before assembly.’

She checked off the final nine names and put the register to one side. ‘Now, I’m putting you on your honour to be quiet and remain in your places while I go and see Miss Morgan. You may talk quietly amongst yourselves, but I want no raised voices. Understand?’ She looked hard at a number of the boys in the back row and bustled out of the classroom.

‘I always thought there was something weird about Rose,’ Willy Philpott, sitting in the back row, proclaimed.

To be continued…
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1 See Aunt Greta’s Homework–the first Aunt Greta story.

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Grateful meows are due once again to Doctor Bonzi and his Mum for their erudite proofing, advice on Miscellaneous Matters Medical and numerous useful suggestions.
Any mistakes remaining are the entire responsibility of the idiot author.

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