I woke up with a sense of power, if Brian upset or threatened to, all I had to do was whisper the word, bra and he would withdraw and leave me in peace, rather than pieces.

By the time I’d come downstairs and had him lurch past me on the landing, my new found talisman, didn’t feel quite so powerful. He was quite a bit bigger than me and could inflict a lot of damage if he so wished. I hope he never would. I was frightened of him–yet not frightened, if you see what I mean. He could knock the stuffing out of me, yet I trusted him not to, I mean, he was like, my brother. I still recalled seeing him in action against those thugs, he was really fast and effective, and I like to think he got involved because I was at risk. I hope it was family loyalty and things.

Mummy wished me a good morning and handed me a bowl for my cereal, I replied in a fairly upbeat manner. Brian who arrived a couple of minutes later, just grunted to her and looked at me as if I wasn’t there. That frightened me a bit.

Mummy went upstairs for something, and I took a risk–“Brian, can we be, like friends again?”

He looked at me in disbelief, “After what you did to me yesterday, go to hell.”

“I, like, didn’t do anything.”

“ ‘…cking fairy,” he spat and got up from the table, grabbed his coat and bag and left without even finishing his breakfast.

I felt my eyes fill with tears, I didn’t like not being friends with him, he was my brother. I didn’t know what to do next, although I knew crying wasn’t the answer.

“What’s the matter, Sweetheart?” asked my mother as she slipped her coat on.

“I upset Brian.”

“What did you do?”

“I asked him if we could be friends again.”

“Ah, just give him some time, he’ll be alright eventually.”

“I hope so, Mummy, I don’t like him being mad at me.” I burst into tears when she hugged me.

“Maybe I should send you to Nan and Gramps? Give the two of you some breathing space.”
For some reason, I didn’t want to do that even though I knew they spoil me rotten. It would be running away and I wasn’t going to do that. I might be fairy in some people’s eyes, but I wasn’t a cowardly one. “I’d rather stay here, Mummy.”

Just then the post came through the letter box and Mummy went to get it. “Oh oh, a letter from the police,” she said. Next moment she was on the phone to Daddy, who must have told her to open it, because she did. “It’s from the Chief Constable, he wants you to take Kylie and Brian to a meeting with him on Friday morning.” She paused, then replied to something he must have said, “Yes this Friday, at ten. I know it’s short notice. He apologises that he’s doing it quickly because he’s going to be away from the weekend.”

It was Wednesday. Goodness, what was I going to wear? A sudden chill ran through me–they weren’t expecting me to dress like a boy, were they? Before I could gather my wits, my mother gasped something about the time and dashed off.

I wiped my eyes and picked up the letter. It was very short and to the point.

Dear Stuart,

Peter Holiday BSc hons,
Chief Constable.

Gosh, Brian and I would have to get over our differences for that or we’d be in real trouble. I was quite concerned that I’d be in a room with people who knew I wasn’t a proper girl, but there was no way I was going as a boy.

I ran upstairs and took my blocker pill and then opened my jewellery box and popped out one of the birth control pills. I swallowed it quickly. I might still be a boy officially, but now I had female hormones in my body. Now I really felt like a girl, a real girl.

I tidied myself up and looked in the mirror, I looked the same as I had before I took the pills. So there was nothing my dad would pick up on. Inside, my tummy was churning, I think it was just nerves, least, I hoped that’s all it was. I went to see Auntie Em.

“Hello, Kylie. Are you all right?”

I don’t know how she knew I wasn’t, but she gave me a huge hug and said quietly, “We’ll talk about your little problem as soon as we’ve got Sarah sorted, are you going to give me a hand?”

I nodded and wiped my eyes, I hadn’t used any makeup, so it wasn’t smeared all over my face. I smiled at her, “Yes, I’d like that, I like helping with Sarah.”

“I know you do, that’s why I wait for you to get her ready. Come on, let’s go and get her.” She put her hand on my shoulder and eased me towards the nursery. Baby Sarah, gurgled and smiled at me and I soon forgot my worries. We spent a peaceful hour bathing and dressing her and giving her a little feed. I fed her, Auntie Em had obviously squeezed some milk into a bottle for me to do it, they call it expressing. I thought of ’Express Dairies’, that really gave it a new meaning. I chuckled to myself and Sarah gurgled back.

As I pushed the pram, its precious cargo asleep inside it, along the paths in our local park, Auntie Em asked me what had caused my upset?

“Brian and me had a fight last night and he’s still angry about it.”

“I’m sure he’ll get over it eventually, your natural sweetness will win him over.”

“Um, I think it might actually, be like, part of the problem.”

“Oh, why?”

“He calls me a sissy and so on.”

“He’s wrong there, you’re all girl, Kylie. A sissy isn’t as far as I’m aware, it’s a term of abuse for effeminate boys. You’re not a boy and you’re not effeminate, you’re a delightful young lady.”

“Thanks, Auntie Em. We also have to go and like, see the Chief Constable on Friday morning about the fight.”

“Does that worry you?”

“Yes, I know he will know I’m not a real girl.” I was trying not to cry.

“Yes you are, Kylie. It’s more than just body parts, it’s about attitudes and self image and core identity. You look and act just like a girl, you care about people, even those who seem not to care about you and you enjoy doing it.”

“So do some boys, don’t they?”

“Yes, yes they do, but it’s a different sort of caring–I can’t really put it into words, but believe me I recognise it when I see it. Um, think of how your mother and father care for you, they both love you just as much and care for you as much as each other, but they do it differently. Sometimes it’s so subtle, it’s indescribable, but it’s there. You have the female type of it.”

“I do?” I felt so much better, maybe I really was a girl–I must be, I had girly ‘mones in my body now.

“Yes you do, the way you help me with Sarah, no boy would do it like you do; you do it like a big sister or even a very young mother.”

“I ‘spect you just showed me how to do it that way.”

“No I didn’t. Let’s sit here a moment.” She indicated a park bench that the local vandals hadn’t destroyed or stolen for its scrap metal value. “Ever since I first met you as Kylie, which was a bit of a surprise if you remember, I watched you to see how real your change was.”

“Oh,” I felt my mouth droop, I felt as if she didn’t trust me.

“Don’t take it to heart, young lady,” she patted me on the knee, “I was fascinated by the change which seemed to come over you. I expected to see you as a boy in skirts, gauche and awkward. Instead, you were a real revelation, natural and at ease in what should have been alien territory.”

I looked up at her, not sure if I was still some sort of experiment she was conducting. She seemed to sense my ambivalence.

“Don’t worry, I’m not taking notes and telling anyone,” she smiled a lovely smile. “No, I liked you before when I thought you were a boy, you were always polite and helpful and the people in the close are all fond of you, partly because you’ve helped several of them, but because you’re a nice kid.

So when you changed over, and I got over the initial surprise, and I saw the way you responded to Sarah, I began to see little things I wasn’t expecting. You handled her like a girl does, boys do it differently don’t ask me to explain, it’ll only confuse things–but believe me, if I asked Brian to hold her he’d do it differently to you.”

“But, I’ve had more practice with her, she knows me.”

“It wouldn’t matter, you’d do it like a girl and he’d do it like a boy.”

“You showed me what to do,” I was really confused by all this. Surely, anyone can be taught how to hold a baby? And comparing me with Brian, was like doing it with a yeti. I knew he was male, it was the human bit I doubted.

“A little, but you soon adopted your own way of holding her, which is so close to mine, she settles down and relaxes. Take it from me, it’s a girl thing and you have it. You walk and talk like one, you are one, full stop, so don’t worry about the Chief Constable, I’m sure he’ll be a clever chap and recognise you for what you are.”

“That’s what I’m worried about,” I said, rocking the pram when I thought I heard a little movement from inside.

“Maybe you should take Sarah with you?”

“What? I couldn’t do that.”

“I was joking, Missy, come on let’s go home and have a cuppa.”

I checked Sarah was okay, and tucked her in again, stroking her face gently and talking to her. Then began to push her back to the house.

“And you’re not a girl?” Auntie Em said as we walked.

“Eh?,” I was rapt in my own thoughts.

“You have just checked her like a mother would, like I would.”

“Yeah, well, I 'spect I copied you then.”

“Kylie, why do you find it so difficult to accept the truth, as far as I can remember, you have never seen me push a pram, you always do it when we take Sarah out. Can’t you just accept you do these things unconsciously, or innately because of what you are.”

“What’s that, a fairy?”

“No, you silly girl. I’m obviously wasting my breath. Come on, let’s get home.” She felt a little distant after that so I concentrated on just pushing the pram, a little self conscious of practically everything I did in case she was studying me.

By the time we got home, I felt very uncomfortable. I had upset her too, by arguing with her. That, I knew, was a boy thing, Mummy is always accusing Brian of it, whatever she says, he disagrees.

“I’m sorry, Auntie Em,” I said feeling this wave of sadness well up inside me and wash all over me. “If you don’t want me here anymore…” I couldn’t finish the sentence, it was too painful yet I deserved all of it.

“Kylie,” she said and engulfed me in a hug, “don’t be silly, of course I want you here and so does Sarah. She looks for you when you’re not here.”

I sobbed against her, repeating how sorry I was.

“Sorry for what, young lady?”

“For arguing, it’s something boys do.”

“So do girls, believe me, my sister and my mother used to fight like cat and dog until she grew up."

“Thank you for saying, I’m a girl, like.” I sniffed and she handed me a tissue.

“Now, this is the last time we discuss this, okay?”

I nodded, and blew my nose.

“In my humble opinion, you are a girl, female, however you want to say it. Whether you believe it or not is up to you, but as far as I am concerned, you are my special niece and I will treat you as such until you tell me different. End of discussion. Now give me a hug and see what Sarah’s doing while I make the tea.”

In the afternoon, I did some schoolwork for a short time and then she showed me some things to do with sewing, she’s making new curtains and she’s going to show me how to do some of it. I enjoyed it more than reading about the, South Sea Bubble and the British East India Company.

I was doing the vegetables when Brian came in, he didn’t speak to me at all. I had, however, put the letter on the fridge door with a magnet and he saw it and read it. “Oh shit!” he said amongst other things, “You seen this?”

It was stating the obvious, but I said I had. Maybe dealing with a common enemy would heal our rift? Muttering more imprecations, he took himself upstairs with a can of cola and some biscuits.

I carried on with my chores, putting the large potatoes in the pre-warmed oven to cook as ‘jackets’. I finished the salad and put it in its bowl back into the fridge.

Brian came rushing down the stairs and charged off somewhere. I felt like telling him not to be late, but he would have given me a surly reply or ‘the finger’. I didn’t want him to get into any more trouble, although he’d never believe me if I said it. I’m not sure I would have either. What was happening to me?

He got back just after Mummy came home. “Where have you been?” she enquired as he came in.

“Down to town, doing a recce.”

“A what?” she paused in showing me again how to make salad dressing.

“A recce, you know, look the place over.”

“A reconnaissance, you mean?”

“Yeah, a recce.”

She shook her head, “And what did you find in your recce? I presume you were looking for something.”

“Yeah, there’s CCTV cameras in several places and the police have taken it.”

“You mean you asked in the shops?”

“Yeah, I like, asked the security guy in BHS, he remembers them coming the next day.”

“So did he see the fight?”

“No, he was dealing with a shoplifter, but he heard about it.”

“I wonder how much was true and how much was gossip?” said my mother absently.

Daddy arrived and dinner became a discussion about the Friday meeting. He was trying to make sure we sang from the same hymn sheet. I thought we’d be talking, not singing–but what do I know? We didn’t know if the videotapes would show anything or not or who had them.

At one point, I was pleased Brian had thought about them, it showed that monkeys can be environmentally aware, then with all the unknowns, I began to feel less happy about it. I left Brian and Daddy still talking about it and spoke to Mummy.

“What should I wear on Friday?”

“What do you mean?” she looked at me and I knew what she was thinking–do I go boy or girl? I quickly settled that.

“Should I wear a dress or separates?”

“How about what you wore to the clinic the first time, you looked nice then, didn’t you, and you felt quite confident.”

“That’s what I was thinking,” actually, it was as well as the other things, but I’d thought about clothes earlier, even discussed it with Auntie Em. I suppose I missed a chance to get some more out of it, unless it goes to court, then I shall ask for a new outfit, I expect Brian will get one as well.

The next day, was one of getting stuff ready for Friday. Brian’s best shirt and school trousers were washed and ironed, Mummy did all this, it was too important to be delegated to me. I’d made sure my clothes were all okay, I also decided that I would wear my hair down. Mummy had organised a hairdresser’s appointment for us both on the Thursday evening, and I was to wander down there for five o’clock.

I was really glad I had Sarah to keep my mind off it, otherwise I’d have been a right worry-guts. I took another of the little white pills, Philip had given me, I was sure I was feeling more female after two days of the hormones in my body, but my boobs hadn’t seemed to grow at all. I wondered how long that would take–at least a couple of weeks, I expect.

I quite enjoyed the hairdressers, Judy, the lady who cut my hair was very nice to me. I tried to pretend that I was an old hand at it, but it was obvious I wasn’t. I tried to copy Mummy, except that she was behind me and I couldn’t always see what she was doing in the mirror–maybe I wasn’t a real girl after all?

Judy took ages washing and then cutting my hair, clipping some of it out of the way, brushing and combing and cutting. Her touching my hair sent like electric shocks down my spine and made my whole body seem extra sensitive to being touched, it was weird.

I was finished first and my hair did look nice, quite how we’d manage that tomorrow, I hated to think. I sat and waited reading, or pretending to be reading while Mummy was finished, she was telling them that they had to go to the police to see about this fight Brian had got involved in, after he spotted some boys teasing me. “He worries me to death, if only he was a quiet and helpful as his sister, he’d be no problem at all…” I felt my ears burn, along with the rest of me.

If Thursday had been busy, Friday was frantic. I washed and dressed, some of the worst scratches had recovered enough for me to wear some mascara and eyeliner. I combed my hair and it had held it’s cut rather well. I sprayed on some of the perfume daddy had given me. I was ready, Mummy was still rushing about like a chicken with no head.

Daddy and Brian were arguing over the bathroom, and Mummy was shrieking about something else. I sat quietly in the lounge trying to breathe slowly, my tummy was churning like a cement mixer. What was going to happen? Who else was going to be there?

“No lip gloss?” said my mother as she put something in her handbag. Aarrgh! How could I have forgotten that? I dashed into the cloakroom and was promptly sick. I cleaned it up and did my lips. My tummy felt easier now.

Twenty minutes later, we were waiting in the visitors’ area at the police HQ; Brian was tapping his foot and Daddy kept tapping him, telling him to stop. Mummy held my hand, which was wet with sweat.

At about one minute to ten, a young woman came and invited us to follow her. She led us through the building and eventually we came through an office with a secretary, beyond it was a large door with a brass nameplate inscribed, Peter Holiday, Chief Constable.