Totally Insane 25–Aspirations.
by Angharad

My fingers were quite sore when I finished sewing Brian’s jeans. How does he split them, he wears these horrid loose things which pool around his knees and show his underpants at the top. If he coughed, I suspect they’d fall down, his jeans–not his boxers.

I don’t think I’d want to wear boy clothes again, not that my ‘rents would consider letting me, anyway. They are convinced I’m a girl, I think I am too, although maybe with less certainty than either Mummy or Daddy. It seems everyone wants me to be a girl or thinks I should be one, from Dr Shrink-thingie, to Philip. He seems to want me to be a big-breasted bimbo, who presumably is also sex crazed. In his dreams. In mine, I see all sorts of embarrassments as people find out about my previous life, especially when I start school. Is that another difference between boys and girls, what they dream about?

Talking of school, I’ve been doing some homework before I go to bed. I wish I didn’t have to, I’d rather redo my nails which I chipped when I had to help dad with the garage door lock. Funny isn’t it that my father has to come and get his daughter to undo a lock? Well I think so.

In bed and reading a history textbook–I shall be asleep in seconds, either that, or very knowledgeable about the ancient Egyptians. Did you know they used to mummify cats, which they had killed, so they became votive offerings to the gods and goddesses. In doing so the cats became deified themselves. Four thousand years later and the Victorians were using the mummified moggies as fertiliser. Ironic, innit?

I hope modern people don’t do such awful things, although the Chinese and Koreans eat dogs and cats–yuck, how could they? Sometimes I think I’ll go vegetarian, the thought of killing anything just for me to have a meal, is horrible. Then I smell bacon cooking, and all my resolve goes out the window.

I wonder if this could happen with my new found femininity? Suddenly, something happens which reminds me of what it is to be a boy and I want back in trousers. Except all the things I enjoyed doing, I can do just as easily as a girl. I’m a girl locksmith, I ride a girl’s bike, I play badminton in skirts–that reminds me, we’re playing tomorrow. I can kiss Philip, hmm, I didn’t want to do that before, so I must have changed or I was gay beforehand and didn’t know it. But, I don’t want to be a boy and kiss him, it has to be as a girl–which I’m happily stuck as, anyway.

My ‘rents aren’t too keen on the idea, and neither is Brian, although he did save both of us from beatings a few weeks ago. He likes a good scrap, I’d rather kiss people or run away. Perhaps I’m a coward, but Mummy says it takes lots of courage to do what I’m doing. That Chief copper, said something similar. I don’t see it like that, but then I’m crazy, Dr Shrinklewinkle said so, and so did the ‘Mericans, except most of them are crazier than I am. Don’t they realise how dangerous it is driving on the wrong side of the road? I know foreigners do it, but well, they’re foreigners, so what do you expect?

What was the name of that book, diagram and statistics annual? I’ll stick with Rupert Bear or Judy, now I can openly read Mummy’s collection, that’s great; before, I had to do so on the sly, in case Brian or Daddy saw me.

I woke up to a lovely morning, the sun was shining and the birds were twittering. I didn’t know they had computers–hee hee, my little joke. I like these jammies Mummy got me for the sleepover, they’re really comfortable; in fact I think most girls clothes are more comfortable, except possibly bras–they either slide up my chest and try to strangle me, or leave red lines around me. Maybe when I actually have something to hold in them, it’ll be different. I’m still going to keep saving for implants, just in case it’s too long before I get the magic pills. Even then it’s not guaranteed that I’ll grow anything worth having, still when I look at the supermodels, they have chests as flat as the super athletes. Paula Radcliff, is hardly busty is she? Neither are Vickie Pendleton the cyclist nor Darcy Bussel the dancer. So do I need to be a couch potato to grow boobs? I hope not. So I’ll keep saving my pennies.

I’ve decided that I won’t take any more of the pills Philip got me. I’ll tell him I’m taking them, but I won’t be. When he complains, I’ll tell him I’m just skinny, like my namesake–model Kate Moss.

I showered and dressed, Mummy was already downstairs and Daddy had gone to work early, he had a long way to drive apparently, to go to a meeting. I don’t think I’d like to do his job, but then I don’t fancy being a teacher either, although I quite like baby-sitting. I love sitting for baby Sarah, but she is so nice. I’m going to see her shortly, Auntie Em is looking after me today. I like her too, she’s much less strict than Mummy, although, I tend to behave for her anyway because I want to keep seeing her and Sarah.

I wore a skirt and top with lacy tights and my red shoes. They have a four centimetre heel, which makes me feel grown up. The skirt is red with blue squiggles on it, and I’m wearing a blue top which is nearly the same shade as the squiggles. Clever eh? I’m quite coordinated.

I had to rush, Brian was in the bathroom and I wanted to do my makeup. I know I’m only eleven, but I’m allowed to wear it, well some of it, my mascara and lip gloss. Oh hurry up, Brian.

I spent an hour doing his wretched jeans last night and all he said was, ‘grunt, grunt,’ like some two legged pig. I remember a geography teacher saying that some of the Polynesians were cannibals and called white explorers, ‘long pigs’ because we tasted like pig meat. Eeeewww, what a thought. “Come on Porkie,” I said quietly to the bathroom door.

I didn’t have my bracelet on, so I went back to my bedroom to get it, it’s one my grandmother gave me, a bangle sort. It has a safety chain, which Sarah, finds fascinating when I play with her. When I change her, I take it off, I don’t want poo on it–eeewwwch!

Finally, Brian finally emerged from the bathroom, “You took your time,” I said to him.

“Use the bog downstairs, then,” was his oh-so-genteel reply.

“I can’t; my make up is in here.”

“Well don’t leave it in there, then.”

“If you didn’t spend so much time squeezing zits…” I shouted back at him, and had to dash into the bathroom and lock the door as he chased me, making all sorts of threats. I sat on the loo and giggled, while he banged on the door–as if I was going to open it–stupid boy.

The mirror was all steamed up, and I had to open the window to let the humid air out, sometimes the extractor fan doesn’t do such a good job, but then Porkie was in here for ages using all the hot water. Daddy says it’s like a Turkish bath after Brian’s been in the shower. I wouldn’t know, I’ve never been to Turkey, although I’ve eaten a few.

I heard the back door slam and I knew it was safe to come out of hiding. I took my makeup and left it in my bedroom, maybe Brian was right, I shouldn’t keep it in the bathroom, but the light is better in there, and Mummy does hers in there too, but he can’t grumble to her.

Despite the fogged up mirror, I hadn’t made too bad a job of it. I grabbed my coat and bag, plus my school bag and trotted across to Auntie Em. I heard my shoes clopping along as I walked and it felt reassuring; only girls’ shoes clop like that.

I rang the door bell, while trying to stare down the thorn bush I’d recently examined a little too close for comfort. Auntie Em opened the door wearing rubber gloves. She was rinsing out Sarah’s nappies before they went into the washing machine. Eeeww, not the nicest job in the world, even if it was for the nicest baby.

“Put the kettle on, Kylie, will you? I need a coffee after this little lot.” I did as she asked and made her a coffee and myself some tea when it boiled. “Ahh, that is so good. I’ve been sorting the washing for the last half an hour, I meant to do it yesterday, but you know what it’s like?”

I nodded, “Yes, Brian caught me yesterday , I had to sew his jeans where he’d ripped them again. I don’t know how he does it, I mean they’re like down round his knees most of the time.” I rolled my eyes and Auntie Em laughed.

“That’s boys for you, mind you they come in useful at times.” She sipped more of her coffee, “Can I ask you a favour, Kylie?”

“Yes of course, Auntie Em.”

“It’s our wedding anniversary on Friday, and I wondered if you could sit for me.”

“Um, I’d love to, but am I actually old enough? I mean how late are you likely to be?”

“No, it’s not an evening thing, it’s a lunch, Kit wants to take me out for lunch, so a couple of hours during the middle day. I’d be everso grateful.”

“I’ll have to check with, Mummy, but yes, I’d love to look after Sarah.” I really did enjoy looking after her.

“Okay, when you finish your tea, can you fill her bath and then go and get her?” I finished my tea in record time and after putting on my pinny, did the bath and checked the temperature, then went for Sarah who was still in her cot.

I brought her back, stripped her, cleaned up the poo she’d done, it was yel–nah, too much detail. Then I dipped her in the bath and she giggled and splashed all the time. She doesn’t like having her hair washed very much, so I try to make a game of it. There weren’t too many tears this time and she was soon back to splashing and laughing. I’d have been soaked without my apron.

I lifted her out on to my lap, upon which I had a towel. Then I quickly wrapped her up and took her over to the changing mat and dried her properly, talking and playing with her the whole time. She giggled, cooed, squealed and shrieked with laughter. She also weed, so I had to clean that up quickly. Then it was creams on her bum and so on, and lift her gently on to the nappy complete with liner, pin it together, rubber pants on. I paused, Auntie Em handed me a vest, then a little white dress which was more of a challenge than a babygro, I had to do some poppers up on it’s back. After that came tights, they were a real test but between us, Sarah and I managed them.

Auntie Em had watched me the whole time, but I’d done everything myself, and the reward, apart from some smiles from Sarah, was to give her her bottle. I wrapped an old nappy around her instead of a bib, which Auntie Em gave me, and then after sitting down and getting her comfortable, I gave her the bottle.

“You’re becoming quite the little mother, aren’t you?” said Auntie Em. I suppose it was a compliment, at least I took it that way. “Any babies you have will be well looked after.”

“I can’t have babies, can I? I’m a boy remember?” I felt a tear dribble down my face. I continued to put Sarah into her pram as Auntie Em had asked me.

“Oh, Kylie, I really did forget. That was cruel of me, but I genuinely forgot, it feels as if you’ve always been a girl.” She hugged me and apologised. My tears didn’t last long.

“You look very smart today, how about we take Sarah out for a bit of an airing? I need a few things too.”

I checked my face in the mirror, my mascara hadn’t run, so I was lucky and my eyes weren’t too red either. I redid my lip gloss and watched while Auntie Em, combed her hair and put some lipstick on, almost without looking. I suppose she’s been doing it longer than me.

A couple of minutes later we were walking down the road our shoes clopping along together. I felt quite smart in my outfit, although I hadn’t walked very far in the shoes before and hoped they’d be comfortable if we went any distance.

Auntie Em, had me pause outside the little shop. “I need some carrots and onions,” she said and disappeared inside. One or two people walked past and glanced in the pram, on to which I held tightly, and it’s precious cargo.

I heard voices and out came Auntie Em, with Mr Papogopolis who wanted to see the baby. “Ah, two pretty ladies and a beautiful baby. A lovely day for a walk?”

I nodded and smiled.

“Ah, yes, the newest young lady in the road. You look well.”

I blushed and thanked him. “This is my assistant, Kylie, who will make a wonderful mother one day. She bathed and dressed Sarah, and gave her her bottle–all very competently.”

“Ah, so sweet, a bit more ladylike than fixing locks, no?”

I blushed, “I still like playing with locks, Mr Papogopolis.”

“You do? Okay, you come back later, I got one stuck at the back of the shop. You wanna try and free it?”

“Yes please.”

“I thinka you better change outta your pretty dress, it coulda be dirty job.”

“Okay, Mr Papogopolis, I’ll see you later.”

We walked on, the onions and carrots stored in the rack under the pram. “You are in demand, young lady.”

“Looks like,” I said and blushed.

We walked for about half an hour, well really it was a stroll and then went back to Auntie Em’s where she was making a beef casserole for dinner. I helped her and she showed me how to prepare the meat and the vegetables to seal in the flavour. It wasn’t school work, I know, this was enjoyable–and I was learning some useful skills.

After a lunch of beans on toast, which I cooked–okay, cordon blue it wasn’t, but I am only eleven and a half, well nearly three quarters–and I did it all myself, without supervision, I went home to change.

I slipped on a pair of jeans and a tee shirt and my pink anorak thing. I took my bag with me and of course my lock kit, which I carried in a larger bag. It got heavy by the time I got to the shop.

“Ah, Kylie, you come-a to do the lock?”

“Yes, Mr P.”

“It’s througha here,” he showed me. It was on his back door, a deadlock with mortise. This would take some time. I grabbed an old wooden chair and sat down to examine the problem. It was jammed okay, mainly because someone had broken a key or something else in it. Oh boy.

I went back to him and reported my findings. He nodded, it was a key, he’d broken it, trying to force it before he realised he had the wrong key. Wonderful.

It took me nearly an hour to get at the bit of broken key and remove it from the lock. I tried it with the correct key and with some WD40, it worked. I sighed with relief. My hands were sore and I’d chipped my nails some more. I put the lock back together.

“It’s working now, Mr P.”

“You clever girl,” he smiled at me. “Whatta I owe you?”

I didn’t have a clue. I mean I’d never even costed what my time would be. I didn’t pay tax as such, because it was always cash in hand and besides I didn’t earn enough to worry about tax.

“It’s taken you a nearly two hours.”

“A proper locksmith might have done it more quickly,” I replied.

“Nah, last time I ‘ad one for a similar problem, he tooka over two hours and charged me a hundred quid.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t expect anything like that, Mr P. I’m not qualified, so pay me what it’s worth.”

“Ha, you a-relying on my guilt, are you?” I shook my head at his statement, or was it a question? “Okay then, you save-a me a ‘undred quid. I give you ‘aff, that seem okay.”

“What?” I was flabbergasted, I don’t know if my parents earn twenty five pounds an hour.

“Alrighta then, seventy five.”

“No, I don’t want even fifty, Mr P. It’s a challenge to me, I enjoy it and I don’t guarantee I can do it.”

“You take-a the money and shutta up, okay?” He place a small bundle of notes into my hand. “Buya you-self a new dress, uh?”

“Goodness, thank you Mr P. I’ll put it in my savings account, if you don’t mind?”

“Whatta you savin’ for?”

I blushed, yet being brought up to be honest when someone asked a sensible question, I felt I had to like, tell him. “A boob job,” I said in a tiny voice.

“A what?” he asked, cupping his hand over his ear, he obviously didn’t hear my reply.

“To get some breast implants, when I’m a bit older.”

“You taking d’hormones?”

“Not yet no, maybe in a year’s time.”

“You promise a-me, that you no getta you body cut about until you see whatta you can grow you-self, okay?”

How dare he, he’s a shop keeper not my parent. “Why?” I asked holding all the indignation inside.

“If you-a wait until you are a eighteen, I give you something towards it, myself. How is that?”

I blushed redder than any of the tomatoes I could see on the fruit and veg stand. My mother would kill me if I agreed to this arrangement, plus I didn’t know how much he was on about, it could have been a tenner, it might have been hundreds. If the hormones have no effect, then I might want to help my chest along in four or five years. He was talking over six.

“I need to discuss this with Mummy and Daddy, if you don’t mind.”

“Okay, but don’ta forget. I won’t.”

I strolled back towards home musing over the proposition he had made. Part of me was still ruffled, it was none of his business what I did with my money or my body. Was it just a ploy to try and stop me becoming a proper woman or irreversibly so? Possibly, he was old enough to be my granddad.

As I couldn’t guess what he was thinking and I didn’t have the nerve to ask him, I decided to let it drop, the chances were he’d forget by the next time I saw him, old people do, don’t they?” Convinced that was the case, I walked home with a lighter step. I glanced at my watch, it was nearly five, and Philip would be here for me at half six. I walked more quickly and started the veg for dinner.

I made myself a cheese and salad sandwich, and was eating it when Brian came in. He looked at me eating. “You not having dinner, then?”

I shook my head, squeaking, “Badminton,” in between chews.

“Oh right, with lover-boy Gonnersall?”

I nodded, blushed and swallowed at the same time, the last bit wasn’t that clever and I began to choke. Brian laughed and went up to his room.

I was still red faced and watery eyed when Mummy came in. “What’s the matter with you?” she said looking at me.

“I choked on a cheese sandwich.”

“When?”

“Just now.”

“What are you eating that for now? it’ll spoil your dinner.”

“I’ve got to go out in half an hour.”

“What for?”

“Badminton, I did tell you earlier, Mummy.”

“Well you’d best go and change then. If you’re going to be playing this regularly, then we’ll have to think about getting you some proper kit for it.”

“Thank you, Mummy,” I said and kissed her on the cheek.

“You’ll probably need it for your new school anyway,” she called up the stairs to my disappearing backside.

~~~~~
Thanks to Gabi for making this readable and to T for making threats until I wrote another episode.